Réflexions Personnelles Personal Reflections خواطر شخصية. ( Juin )





Personal Reflections


Writen by : Yassmine Hassan Adam







Today, I choose to write about myself and my therapeutic journey. My therapeutic journey is the contemporary interpretation of my 25 years old. So I can never discuss it without revealing who I am. And here we go!


I had a very joyful and peaceful childhood, a really good one; nice school, a big family, lots of children/ friends, well spent vacations, etc. Except that I experienced a trauma by the age of four or five years old. I was sexually abused! As a child, I never understood what really happened to me but a child’s gut is always right when something goes wrong. I chose to keep it for myself yet spent the rest of my childhood questioning that day and feeling guilty over something I can’t really decipher.


And as we all know it, life goes on. Mine went on with my same old life routine. Yes! The joyful and peaceful one I mentioned above. Life went on with everything around me except for my relationship with my own body. Things seemed to be a bit smooth until I experienced the 2nd main trauma in my life which is the sudden loss of my beloved father due to a medical error in a complicated cardiac surgery. Life stopped!

 

Every tear as well as every laugh. Everything had stopped! I tried to make things work but unfortunately they wouldn’t. So I decided a year later (when I was 17 years old) to have some life coaching sessions. The young me couldn’t still differentiate between therapy and coaching. Although it wasn’t the best choice in my case, it introduced me to the subconscious world.To the connection with the inner self. To the fact that every little detail in one’s childhood actually matters.

 

The sessions were fine but they were never enough to help me with my grief. Nothing actually seemed to help me mourn my father. Nothing could take a bit of what I had in my chest. Not a word. Not a gesture. Nothing at all. Tears lost their meaning so I stopped crying. Happiness turned virtual so I stopped laughing. And security seemed unreachable so I stopped feeling. Then, I quit my coaching sessions with a knowledge that always kept haunting me back. Years later, I found many of my loved ones including almost all my father figures passing away too.

  

I was always a very faithful kid but at this point I questioned nothing but God’s mercy! Why would he do all of this to me? I was still so young but I had a huge burden that was eating me out. I was lonely, I was in pain, I wanted to commit suicide! Oh God! How I hated being alive! Oh God! Is that what they call DEPRESSION?

  

It is! I kept suffering for a while. The suffering process included all shades of anger, pain and disgrace. I had long conversations with God asking him why? But he never seemed to answer. I kept suffering until I started therapy with my current psychoanalyst.

  

Oh. No! Things didn’t go smoothly from the very beginning. I spent a very long while to get over my depression. I can’t remember the period exactly as it was full of ups and downs. It was full of darkness. Until one day, I found out I could cry again! I actually started to feel again! It was a marvelous feeling! I felt alive again! Oh God! What a luxury! I can cry! Afterwards, the only thing that seemed to matter was the only thing that barely brought me back to life; my therapeutic journey. I devoted my life to understanding how I function. To connecting with my inner child and as easy as it might seem. It’s too difficult to reach.

  

Remember the child abuse I mentioned above? The massive consequences it had over my life? The loss of my father? The loss of my loved ones? And many more events and pains. I had to reopen all the wounds. I had to disclose every detail (and I am still doing it). I had to confront yet accept the hatred, the pain, the jealousy, the anger and the scars I have within myself. I never had the luxury of stopping my mind. I learnt that handling the fear of the abandoned kid, will never be easy for me. A depressive episode can still beat the shit out of me even though I know I can get over it. At any point, my mental health can be either my paradise or my living hell. I sometimes lose faith in the whole game. I sometimes hate how sensitive I am. How vulnerable and authentic I am.

  

Some people will find what I am writing brave and others will wonder why I post such thing. But I know that I am posting this because I want to disclose. I am writing this because I want to free myself.

  

I am also writing this to all the parents out there; fathers and mothers. I am asking you to protect your children with everything you have and to trust nobody



Literally nobody except the both of you. I am writing this to all the girls/boys out there who went through similar experiences


I know how hard it was. I know how many times you were asked to stay silent as if it was your fault or as if it was a dark secret. So I am telling you today IT’S NOT



I am here to tell you that disclosure heals. I am not asking you to write an article like this one but to find a suitable way to break the si 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 



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