How can you live your life when at a moment’s notice you channel in random abuse from a forgotten past?
It was a definitely a challenge. Oy!
After Yanni, I was frustrated because our little TRAUMA HEALING ADVENTURE did nothing but bring more stuff up for me. The mystery of my Grandfather.... How could I see my Grandfather when he was in his thirties? I was far from being born. Was that a memory I experienced with trauma healer therapist Yanni or a hallucination? And what could it mean? Why did I SEE that? Was it my unconscious mind telling me something or what? Jeez, this is like Twilight Zone material.
I decided to bag the therapists and work with Douglass and create my own program of discovery.
No one knew what was going on with me, and the more I worked with people the more confusing it was. My answer lie in following my intuition, following my gut, for the answer to my dilemma was a dilemma, unknown, a big f-ing question mark.
So I worked with Douglass as much as possible. The answer lie in my body. We would explore with Yoga. We would find a solution.
Now I know this sounds crazy. Technically, you could say I had PTSD, and sort of a psychotic break (the talking to Baby Ken part) but what if it wasn’t PTSD, what if it wasn’t a psychotic break, what if it were something else? It began in my body with Yoga, and I was sure the answer lie with my body with Yoga, or at least with bodywork.
So Douglass and I continued our work. I would cry a lot and bounce about. Douglass would watch in quiet amazement. We explored new ways to stretch my hips, using ropes, blocks and various props. One time, we hung ropes from the ceiling and hung my different limbs off the ropes and stretched in crazy and fun ways. I shook, and cried, and moaned and sometimes laughed hysterically but I was determined to cure myself of this wacky condition. So determined. I wanted my life back. I wanted to be in a relationship again without fear of my child self Baby Ken suddenly appearing and mucking things up.
So I worked with Douglass at least once a week, and each night when I came home to my little cabin in the boonies of Northern Westchester I would light a fire in the fireplace, roll out my yoga mat, blocks and strap, and do my crazy bouncing practice. Sometimes it would be uneventful. Other times the shaking and bouncing would be so intense that I would pull out my SONY PD150 video camera and film my bizarre yoga dance.
But every night, I would do my Yoga, hoping to clean out the "samscara", the old stuff, the scars, the lost trauma in my body. Every night like religion. Ultimately motivated by fear, fear that I might never heal.
After my bouncing practice, I would sit in a hot tub often with a glass of wine, trying to relax, trying to not think about it all, hoping it would all go away.
That FEAR, that CRAZY unknown MONSTER deep lost somewhere in my unconscious wasn't going anywhere.
As a matter of fact, it he she them not me please whatever the hell it is, .......was growing.
I could not let it take me down again.