When the box popped open a month or so ago and I decided I didn't want that dusty, old, painful memory in my head any more, yet I didn't know what to do with the box. I have long used imagery when dealing with painful experiences. I box them up, put them on a shelf and stick them someplace in my brain and try to ignore that they are there. So, when this one opened up (and I still don't know what triggered it) I decided that I didn't want it any longer. If I put it down, it's down...but still there. WTF was I going to do with it? A friend of mine told me about his mediation journey, and how he was having difficulty with keeping a clear mind while mediating. He told me that he read that time is on a conveyor belt and that it continues to move. I decided to put my dusty old box on that conveyor belt and let it go. Let 200 lbs of memory go. I immediately felt this huge relief wash over me. It was time, that box was 23 years old.
As a massage therapist I know that muscles have memory. I've experienced it myself when a LMT worked on my ankle that had been sprained when I was a child. Two days ago I asked TD to help me with my rehab of my hips, since I'm spending a couple of months rehabbing my shoulder (volleyball overuse injury) I might as well do my hips as well. I need to work on pelvic stability because of the injury that I sustained 23 years ago. The first adjustment was uncomfortable and I broke out into a huge immediate sweat which is a good thing. It's the parasympathic nerve system firing off. Alright, lets wake that part of my body back up.
Today, I got another adjustment and this one made me shake, quaking in my core. Intense. Significant is the word I used. It wasn't physically painful, just jarring. My legs shook for a good 30 minutes, trying to do a massage just after my adjustment was hard. I could barely concentrate, and the client wanted to chat. I could barely put two words together. Thankfully, I've been doing massage for so long, that my hands used their muscle memory to do the massage. Then I did another massage, and that one was better however I started to feel nauseous. Even hours later, I continue to feel nauseous. Like I just want to puke. I sat down at the kitchen table and looked out the window. At nothing. At everything. And then it was 2 hours later. I sat there for 2 hours. Still wanting to puke.
Muscle memory goes thru a process...and I have to reconnect my brain to that part of my body. To love the hip flexors on the left side of my body and the ASIS on the right side of my body. I acknowledge the injury, the pain involved. I love those muscles and I invite them back into the whole.
For years I've deflected with "others have it worse than me." or "it's not that bad, I'm still standing." As I look at it from this side, not done with it yet, I see some PTSD symptoms. The panic attacks that I'd try to hide, feeling worthless and never good enough, being numb, easily startled, fight or flight when triggered.
As the walls around me come down I'm finding myself. Sometimes I feel like I'm 16 yrs old, with the emotional maturity of a teenager. There are definitely places in my personality that I have been avoiding, or completely blocking off for years. Rock bottom is the best place to build a strong foundation. And I'm feeling hopeful, worthy and like I still want to puke.
As I sat down to write tonight this song was playing. Coincidence?
End of the Rainbow. Born to Sing. No Plan B. - Van Morrison
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