It Wasn’t My Fault

It wasn’t my fault! Four words that I have a really difficult time saying. I want to believe it, but everything I know says different.

When I map the course of events, it always seems to come back to my actions, what I could have done differently. I started to make a list of all the ways that I participated in the events that led up to this trauma, and I torture myself with thoughts like, “If I had only made this decision or that decision…” but the truth is, I made the decisions I made based on the information I had at the time. There is no way a 17 year old had the knowledge or the where-with-all to make alternative decisions resulting in a different outcome. My attempt to frame every decision in that way only serves to devalue my humanity.

At 17 we are doing good to just get out of bed and go to school every day. At 17 we are doing good to keep up with our academics as well as all of our extra-curricular activities. At 17 we are doing good to form any kind of meaningful relationships. At 17 we are doing good to not get ensnared in everyone else’s drama. At 17 we think we are grown, but we are really still children making typical child-like decisions. At 17, we are still testing the limits of our relationships with our parents, pushing curfews, pushing driving privileges, questioning authority, and trying to do more and more on our own. But, we are not grown, or at least I wasn’t grown.

I think about all of the things that I place in the category of “It was my fault,” and the list is vast. But this, this trauma, is NOT MY FAULT!

So what is it that makes me think of this as my fault? I have discovered that for some reason it is easier to blame myself than to put blame where it actually belongs. Blame is such a strong word. It implies that those who hurt me also had a choice. I don’t know why, but I want to let them off the hook…I want to give them a pass. If I could figure out why they did what they did, then perhaps I could also forgive them, which in my mind means they are no longer to blame. This circular thinking is prevalent in trauma survivors, so I am not unique in this. However, I know better. Cognitively, I know that what they did, regardless of why they did it, was not right. They made decisions and acted out of their own free will. My interactions with them was limited up until this point. Giving them a pass only increases my own negative feelings about myself, about my own self-worth.

In Alcoholics Anonymous, folks in recovery are taught the act of acceptance. There is a great story in the back of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous that speaks directly to the notion of acceptance stating, “Acceptance is the answer to ALL of my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation- some fact of my life- unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God’s world by mistake.” If I believe this quote (and I would like to) then I recognize I have to move into a place of acceptance over a place of feeling like it was my fault. What I understand about acceptance is that it doesn’t let someone off the hook, it simply acknowledges the situation for what it is, no more, no less. The part of this quote, however, that I have trouble with is the last sentence, “Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God’s world by mistake.”

This quote speaks directly to God’s providence, something I have been wrestling with since I arrived at seminary. I want to place all world events into two categories, those ordained by God and those not ordained by God. The good stuff – ordained by God; the bad stuff – not ordained by God. But this quote isn’t really talking about good and bad, it is really addressing whether the good and the bad are mistakes. This is different. When bad things happen, and they do, are they mistakes? Should they not have happened in the first place? Where is God when bad things are happening? What determines God’s involvement in the daily activities of this world? These are all valid questions, but from a human perspective, shortsighted.

The grand scheme in which God operates moves beyond the good or bad that people grace or inflict others with. I know internally that part of what drives me is the care that we provide others. Our inability to see human suffering, to reach out and help meet the needs of those most vulnerable in our society is a symptom of a greater problem. We are so disconnected from our creator and the created order that we see others as expendable fodder for our own consumption. This is the driving force behind those decisions that seek to destroy others rather than build them up. Whether it is swindling someone out of oodles of money, killing for cash, raping for power, or simply taking what does not belong to you…the end result is the same. Some seemingly win, and some seemingly loose.

Scripture tells me that God’s world operates entirely different from this world. Those that understand God’s world and attempt to operate within its boundaries are those who are the most humble in their service to others. Blessed are the poor in spirit; Blessed are those who mourn; Blessed are the meek; Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; Blessed are the merciful; Blessed are the pure in heart; Blessed are the peacemakers; Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake…the reward, however, doesn’t come in this world, but in heaven. This is the part that I forget. When I am thinking about what happened to me, and I am wanting to let my perpetrators off the hook, I understand where that comes from – I get it – but it cannot be.

IT WASN’T MY FAULT!

I am so reminded that God’s macro-view is not my micro-view. It just isn’t. I can’t see the whole picture. If I can bring myself to believe that nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God’s world by mistake, then I have to believe that God is with us in both the good and the bad. While I may not understand it, there is an ultimate purpose for everything. Just because I can’t see that purpose or don’t understand the purpose, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. So then the question becomes, “What am I going to do with this horror?”

First and foremost, I am going to learn to trust that it really wasn’t my fault. If I learn nothing else, this is enough. I will not live the rest of my life assuming the blame for someone else’s actions. I didn’t cause this. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t deserve this.

IT WASN’T MY FAULT!!!!

Do Something Different

I am a trauma survivor!

Not many people know that. It isn’t something I advertise or share much because in many ways, it has continued to be traumatizing.

This trauma occurred when I was 17; that was 30 years ago, and I never told anyone at the time of the event. In fact, I did everything I could to keep it hidden. I was threatened with my life if I ever told, and it doesn’t take much for me to take the hint, “if I can be hurt once, I can be hurt twice, keep your mouth shut.”

A number of years later, I found myself faced with some critical decisions. It became apparent to me that not telling was killing me on the inside. So, I opened the release value, slightly, and told one person. At the time, this was enough. It gave me just enough hope so that I did not completely lose my mind. I learned quickly, though, how to intellectualize my feelings around this event, without actually feeling them or processing them in any real, tangible way.

Lesson: what you don’t take care of today will bite you in the ass tomorrow.

Recently I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything on my plate. Course work, chaplaincy internship, field education, home responsibilities; it was all hard to juggle. I decided to start seeing a therapist as a way to learn some new coping skills – or perhaps be reminded of coping skills I have shared in the past with others – so that I didn’t feel so inundated with stuff. As with most best laid plans, being overwhelmed was only the tip of the iceberg. It didn’t take long for the lack of emotional connection to my body to surface, which directly correlated to this traumatic event at age 17. I had to make a choice…do I start working on this stuff now, or do I continue to put it off until a more appropriate time?

Appropriate time? When would that be?

I was having physical symptoms that were a direct manifestation of this trauma. I was at the point emotionally that I could no longer postpone the work that had needed to happen for years. I heard from my therapist that perhaps I am dealing with this now because of all of the coping skills I do have at my disposal, and the fact that I have an amazing support network. I took her at her word and decided to ease into these tumultuous waters.

Now it is several months after the initial plunge and I am a train wreck. I feel like I am 17 again and that this trauma just happened a few hours ago. I am having nightmares, anxiety attacks, and the like, only this time I am not self-medicating with alcohol. I do find myself eating shitty food as a way of coping, but it is so temporary and usually provides little relief. As another alternative, I was asked to increase my support network by sharing this event with at least two other people…I started with one.

The last 24 to 36 hours have just about pushed me over the edge. I am writing this post in the middle of the night because I was awakened, once again, by those horrible reminders that I am weak and vulnerable and at the mercy of others who are strong and dominating. I am finding it difficult to type because I am shaking and feel like I want to come out of my skin. My mind is having trouble concentrating on what my next thought will be.

I love my partner with every fiber of my being, but it is difficult for her to understand what I am going through. My friends are so amazing, but I have felt that telling them is unfair to them, that it places a burden on them that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. The few people that I have told, I cannot begin to express my gratitude to you for the support that you have provided, but I have to admit that I feel horrible every time I send a text message or call. I feel like a defective type-writer. I hear my own voice in the back of my head telling former clients, “So, what are you going to do different.” All of this is so real and so surreal.

What I am seeing tonight is that I am broken. To even admit that is overwhelming. What happened to me was horrific. I do need to cry. I do need to get angry. I do need to TELL. For me the doing it differently is breaking the silence that I have lived under for so long. As a therapist, I have encouraged countless individuals to just share their sacred story, to not be afraid to give it a voice. I am clearly a hypocrite. I have not wanted to follow my own advice. Instead, I want to run and hide and pretend like nothing happened…until the next time I’m having a panic attack and feel like I’m being violated all over again. This is not living. This is not healthy.

Today I reached out in a way that I NEVER have before. In the moment of crisis, I picked up the phone and called for help. And I got it. In a powerful way. But, here I am, up at 4 in the morning writing. Maybe I’ll post this, maybe I won’t, but I am writing instead of crawling in the closet or laying on the sofa inconsolable. And, I know that by writing at 4 in the morning, I am doing something different. That is really the key. At every moment, I have to be willing to rewrite the script, to do something different. If I do enough things different, eventually what happened to me will no longer look the same.

I was told today that I had a lot of anger under the surface, and that perhaps my anxiety was anger trying to make its way out. I was told to stomp my feet, to have a temper tantrum. I have NEVER done these things before…I’ll be damned if they don’t work. I have to do things differently. I have to. I cannot keep going down the same path expecting different results – I know that is the definition of insanity, and for once in my life, I KNOW I am not insane, just wounded.

God, I know you have been up with me tonight. I know that you have been with me in the terror, the shaking, the unsettled moments of uncontrollable shaking, and I have witnessed you helping me do something different. I will keep writing, I will keep stomping, I will keep calling for help, and one day I will wake up and realize that this trauma that is so huge right now is nothing more than a blip on the screen; just one more event in a string of thousands of events in my life. This trauma can inform me, but it cannot rule me.

Today I am choosing to do one thing different.