I had a Breakthrough
Yes, I had a breakthrough! And depending on how you define the word breakthrough, I suppose you probably have had a few yourself.
I would define a breakthrough as a move forward, an AHA! moment in one’s life. This particular breakthrough has a lot to do with mental health. I want to preface that I am not a mental health expert, and this is my story and I am by no means claiming this is the therapy for you, but it worked for me.
So let’s get in our time machine. Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. We go back in time to the year 1974, I am 9 years old living in a small town in Michigan. Pinckney, Michigan to be exact. I live with my mom, dad and my older sister Tammy who is 11 years old. We have one dog Daffy (a scottish terrier) and honestly life is good. No worries, just normal everyday life. I am starting 3rd Grade. My new (very old in age) teacher is Mrs. Henry. In 2nd Grade I had Mrs. Gibson. She was a kooky type character and, as 2nd graders, we had carte blanche of anything and everything her room had to offer. In other words, we could do pretty much whatever the hell we wanted to do! We all loved Mrs. Gibson. Mrs. Henry, on the other hand, was very strict - children were to stay glued in their chairs, and they were to remain quiet, unless she called on us. To a 9 year old, it felt like prison.
Those years of 1974-75 remain cloudy for me. I remember small doses of what Mrs. Henry’s classroom was like. Those small doses, are what, in all honesty, have haunted me for years.
I know to some, this may sound overly dramatic, for me it is not. I have spent every single Sunday- except for those Sundays in the last couple months feeling super depressed. No matter what I had planned for a Sunday I could not shake a feeling of dread, depression and an immense heaviness for the coming week. YES! Since 3rd grade. Why? Let me tell you…
I have memories of Mrs. Henry tying kids to their chairs and taping their mouths. I seem to remember it mostly being boys, and I am sure that these were most likely boys with ADHD, or other sorts of learning differences, that would cause a kid to be unable to sit still. Yes, we know more now, and schools aren’t like that anymore, there aren’t kids getting paddled like there were back in the “olden” days.
Still, seeing this happen directly in front of me and the threat of this very thing happening scared the SHIT out of me. I was scared to learn, scared to ask questions or ask for any kind of help if I needed it. I missed A LOT of school that academic year. Every Sunday I was physically ill with a fever or I would be throwing up. If I wasn’t sick, I would purposely miss the bus by hiding behind a tree (we had lots of trees in our yard). I found ways to avoid attending Mrs. Henry’s 3rd grade class.
I must have shared something about what was happening in that classroom with my family. Because at some point my mother went to the principal, Mrs. Edgar. My mom told her about all the happenings in Mrs. Henry’s class. Mrs. Edgar’s response was ‘Mrs. Henry is one of our best teachers and she would never do that’. My mother wasn’t believed, nor was I. I don’t think my parents made the connection between my illnesses and my avoidance of Mrs. Henry.
Now let’s get into that time machine once more and travel back to the present. I have found myself a therapist (with the help of my husband) that does EMDR therapy. This acronym stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing Therapy. It has been around since 1987 and is designed to heal emotional distress resulting from traumatic memories. I am not going to go into the details as to how this treatment is administered, because there are a few different ways for this to happen, but this method I really believe has changed my life. You can find more information on this particular therapy here (EMDR).
After a couple sessions of EMDR, I decide to look for my class picture from 3rd grade. I looked at all the kids in that class, and thought… hmmm… maybe this awful thing that happened didn’t really happen at all. What if my little 9 year old self just didn’t like going to school, maybe I made the whole thing up and decided to make Mrs. Henry the villan in my life story? As I scanned the tiny faces of my classmates I saw many that I was still in contact with through facebook.
SO… I decided to reach out.
Student #1 was a male still living in Michigan- and Geez I have known him for over (ahem) 50 years. We were in the same kindergarten class too. When reaching out I asked if he remembered Mrs. Henry, and if so, what were his feelings around that 3rd grade academic year. Student #1 responded by saying he remembered her as being very strict, and he stayed out of trouble by making himself invisible back then. (I know how sad that he had to be unseen). I asked him if he remember anything else. “No”. He responded. Then I went ahead and explained in full detail my memory and how it has played out in my life. Still, he had no memory of it. WOW, I thought to myself, I am really going to be hating on myself if this memory really didn’t happen!
I decided to reach out to a second student.
Student #2 was a female living in California. It seems as though from our conversation she moved a couple times from Michigan and then returned. Finally ending up in California as an adult. I remember her well. So well. Thinking about her really took me back to 3rd grade. Anyhow, I asked her the same question, nothing leading or divulging what I was looking for. #2 said she remembered not liking Mrs. Henry very much. “Okay” I said. I am sure none of us liked her. Then she went on to say “I do remember her tying me to a chair and taping my mouth”. OMG!!! My heart broke for her, for reals! This poor innocent child abused that way by an old cranky bitty. “Are you okay now?” I asked. She responded by saying “Yes” “I am fine, it never bothered me”. OMG! Again, I was surprised by this response since as far as I can remember I wasn’t ever tied up to a chair or had my mouth taped yet I have trauma from it. How can this be? #2 and I chatted a while longer and will stay in touch. I am really grateful she is ok.
I am so thankful that the EMDR therapy that my new therapist has introduced to our sessions has essentially eliminated those icky feelings that would come over me on Sundays throughout my life. I have pretty much settled on, both my mom and I did the best we could under the circumstances. When undergoing EMDR therapy you end up with how you are feeling now, you address it with a statement. It’s really helpful that they supply you with many statements to choose from, and this felt right to me - “My mom and I did the best we could.”
Once again, this is my journey and I am sharing this therapy that has worked for me. I am not saying you should go out and find an EMDR specialist and do this therapy, I am just telling my story.
Long story short, Sundays are looking a lot better for me.
Until next time,
Tracey
By the way, I have been receiving help for my mental health for decades now. I talk about my mental health in this blog post from many years ago. I am always open to chatting about mental health and have been transparent about it before it became socially acceptable.