Untitled Abstract Paintings : Arts Therapy
Self-portraits Paintings : Arts Therapy
Come back home.
It has been a while since I posted last. Have kept me busy with seeing a psychologist as well as a psychiatrist and going to a 12 week-group counseling group for survivors from sexual violence once a week. It has taken a lot from me leading to passing out when I got home. Used to be a Facebook and Instagram junkie. I am feeling too tired to spend hours on the internet. I have slept for over 8 hours each day during work week days and over 12 hours on weekends, lately. My body probably need some rest. As time passes by, I feel less stressed and worn out presumably as I slowly and gradually get used to dealing with uncomfortable feelings that my conscience had chosen not to deal with. It really never gets easier but I have taken less time to recover from it. It’s a personal achievement that many people praise within these small groups. I am taking once step at a time trying not to push myself. It’s still work for me trying to take it easy, relax and face emotional and psychological challenge, though.
I was introduced to arts therapy by my psychologist. It was a lot of fun for me to draw and paint with crayons. When I had no clue of explaining how felt I was being asked by her, this arts therapy helped me understood my feelings that I was unable to pinpoint and verbalize them. It’s less stressful than talking about my dark feelings of anger, shame, sadness, fear, the feeling of loss and etc. I will post my paintings after this post.
May peace be with all of you.
Eeppeo
Dealing with my wounded child
It’s been 9 weeks since I started joining the group counseling session for sexual violence survivors. My 9 week-session was held two days ago. Our psychologist leads this session. There were total 5 survivors included me. We use our nicknames, not real names for privacy. We always start reading a poem and talking about our feelings. Yanus seemed to be hostile and angry for some reasons. Stream, the psychologist told Yanus that she felt hostility from her comment towards her. And this turned out to be a little over 90 minute-work between two. Yanus told us that her mother was away and ignorant so that she had to grow quickly running house chores for her father and brother. She also said to us that her mother did not change her diapers. Really? How is it possible for her to remember what happened 50 years ago? Is she making it up? Or is she really remembering it?
She started crying out loud. That made me feel uncomfortable sitting quietly watching her cry. She reminded me of my mother who was also ignorant, abusive and irresponsible due to her own psychological and emotional baggages. She cried out endlessly, took a quick pause and then cried again. It made me feel uncomfortable. I tried to listen to what she said and to watch her moves with a baby stuffed animal and a mother stuffed animal for a little while and then eventually became exhausted losing my focus. I needed the break and wanted to leave there but did not do it because everybody seemed to be so focused and into it. I wasn’t. Looking back, I would have make a time out and excuse myself for a little while. This is clear that I am still dealing with boundary issues. I was more concerned about what other people would feel rather than what I was feeling to take care of myself. 5 minute-break was made at 8 p.m. We started the session at 6 p.m. I wanted to just go home and rest, but went back to the session. They were still talking about Yanus. I was no longer emotionally available for the talk about her issue with her mother. Perhaps I should have just left early. I quietly stood up to go to the bathroom. And the psychologist told me that the session was about to end so I told her that I would come back quickly. And I did. But the session would not end at 9 p.m. on time and she would let Autumn to talk about her issues. Around 9:15 p.m. I told them that I was angry and wanted to go home. They rushed it off to finish quickly then. Well, I was still upset without expressing why I was angry and I wanted to go home but just couldn’t stand being there any seconds. I will talk bout this next week and will not feel pressured to give away much more time to one specific participant during 3 hour-session because my time is precious and I deserve to be listened to with respect and to work on my issues for my own healing. My inner wounded child was upset because she felt ignored. I would like to visit her more often to fulfill her incomplete desires and needs as her mother. I want to let her know that she is not alone and I am here for her anytime. She’s safe with me. I love her.
I am back.
Hello, world!
Hope you find this well. I cannot believe that it has been over 6 months since I posted my last blog in April. Time flies away. Winter is just around the corner in Seoul, South Korea. It has been pretty exciting and inspiring during my absence on the internet. I made conscious efforts to keep me from spending hours on the internet in order to focus on my psychological and emotional projects through private and group counseling sessions. I finished two 12 week-workshops at church and joined another. It wasn’t an easy road but I managed not to give it up. Cheers to me.
I enjoy my silent walk to Namsan for a couple of hours in the sun and eat plenty of fresh fruit afterwards. Taking photographs on Instagram app has become my favorite activity each day. I have nearly 90 followers and receive “Like” from all over the place which is nice. Discovered artistic, courageous and curious nature of mine. Started drawing and coloring for arts therapy and singing for my own entertainment when I walk on the street. I feel pretty grounded and safe. I am getting better at taking good care of myself by looking after my wounded little girl in me. No longer ignore her or pretend that she does not exist. It’s a huge change that changes myself to find authentic being.
A week ago, I spent two days to participate in the weekend camp for sexual violence survivors fully sponsored by government. There were 14 women included myself. My weekly ground counseling session members were there except for Sponge Bob. We go by our nick names. It was such a beautiful weekend right below the national Bukhansan park. I got to try a dance therapy, arts therapy and play therapy. A dance therapy was the fun way to break the ice among strangers.I felt quite uncomfortable and awkward but eventually got over it. Didn’t become friends with anybody but I got along with everybody over all. I was there for my healing and recovery from the rape incident occurred 19 years ago so focused on working on my emotions and emotional baggages caused by sexual violence which invaded my private areas physically, psychologically, emotionally and spiritually. Surprisingly, I was ready to talk about my rape experience in nearly 20 years to a group of strangers who were sexual violence survivors. Some were more ready than others to talk about their experiences. It was quite interesting and therapeutic to meet those who were empathetic sharing similar emotional suffering with one another.
Will write more later. Peace be with you.
Eeppeo
Battle with PTSD
It’s been a few crazy weeks. I would be up for over 40 hours and sleep for over 12 hours next day. Started taking a sleeping pill last Friday. Yes, it’s a prescribed one. My psychiatrist finally got convinced how awfully exhausting and upsetting it has been for me with sleep deprivation. She was concerned about me shutting down my memory of traumatic events and feelings associated with them. I told her that good night sleep, if not some sleep at least was critical for my mental health and well-being.
Was somewhat hesitant to take that little tiny blue pill. I am not a fan of drugs. Doctors usually have to convince me that I need to take some. It’s the first time I’ve ever asked a doctor to prescribe me any drugs. It worked Friday and Saturday night but did not work Sunday night when the ignorant and inconsiderate neighbor started running the washing machine around midnight. I took the second pill but the anxiety grew bigger and bigger as the washer was running continuously by second. I rang the door bell and confronted her about causing the noise. She and her son in his twenties were yelling at me with a hostile attitude. I did not walk away from them and continued to make a complaint asking them not to do a laundry after midnight. They did not give a shit.
My plantar fasciitis on my right foot has been troubling me with ugly pain. The pain level reached 9 out of 0 to 10 scale. That’s pretty bad to a point that I cannot put my right foot on the ground because of pain. My sports medicine/rehabilitation specialist does not take reservations and doesn’t have all the time in the world waiting for me. I am usually not getting up in the morning because I fall asleep around 5 or 6 a.m. to go see him for treatment. I often feel bad about not going to see a doctor for shock wave therapy. It’s an excruciatingly painful therapy but does a job to relieve the pain for at least 3-4 days. With the scattered appointments for job interviews and a few one-hour teaching classes all over in the city of Seoul, I find it difficult to make more than 4 travels a day. I am just dead tired physically and mentally and just want to rest. Sometimes, I feel like fainting in the middle of street yet try hard not to. It’s tough beyond words.
Have not been good at writing. All my therapists tell me to write. Keeping a journal. Writing a dream journal. Writing letters to my parents. I agree with them that it would help me heal. It could be one of many healing techniques used these days. Writing can be therapeutic. There were times when I couldn’t help but writing because I felt like dying without writing as if it were like breathing. It has taken a lot of strength, energy and courage to sit down here and write this. I was battling PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) during my absence of writing. I bring a notebook with pens in my backpack but hardly ever write. I also bring my laptop in my backpack but hardly ever use it, either. Glad that I am finally writing and using the laptop.
I feel pretty overwhelmed and confused nowadays. The process of healing has been very difficult and painful as the old repressed traumatic events with negative feelings are being remembered and I re-experience them as before. When I start having a flashback of traumatic events, traumatic feelings occur and I experience both physical and emotional panic attack. I struggle from breathing with chest pain, headache, heart-burn and muscle ache all over my body. It’s as if I am thrown away by a storm or typhoon helplessly and I am scared to death. When it hits me, there is no room for me to think with consciousness. It just takes over me. It makes me feel helpless and powerless. I was alone getting attacked, beaten up, not rescued, abandoned and forgotten when I was beaten up by my father. My family was in the next room but nobody came rescue mr or fight for me. They did not call the police. They did not break into my room where my father was beating me up until I fainted and fell on the floor. They did not take me to the hospital. They did not come talk to me asking me if I were okay. They never talked about it. I was scared to death. I wished I had been dead. I was terribly sorry and sad when I became conscious and woke up. I was terrified with blooded and bruised face and head. I was horrified that something must have gone terribly wrong beyond my knowledge. Nobody was there for me. I despised God for having not taken my life away but having let me alive with terror.
Because I slept over 13 hours after staying awake for over 40 hours, I was late for hypnosis therapy by 25 minutes. My psychiatrist told me that the government notified her not to practice any therapy that cots over 100 dollars each time. I am grateful for being the beneficiary of the government funding to see this psychiatrist so choose not to complain much.
On my way to the subway station after getting a little snack, I had the urge to call my sister. She’s the only family member whom I talk to from time to time. I told her that I have been seeing a psychiatrist to treat PTSD. She said to me that it was all up to me. WTF. What does that mean? I am learning that it was not my fault. I confronted her about not having done anything when I was beaten up and after I was knocked out with broken body and mind. “Why didn’t you do anything? “Why?” I cried out on the phone standing in the middle of street. Her response made me speechless. “I don’t remember a thing.” ???!!! WTF. “How could you not remember a thing?” “You really don’t remember any?” Then she said to me “No matter what I tell you, you would not understand or accept it.” She avoided my confrontation in denial. I started crying out loud and couldn’t stop crying. My heart ached. It hurt helplessly. Chest pain. Heart-burn. Trouble with breathing. Red sirens were buzzing off all over my body. I was chocked up. I felt like fainting. Terrible headache. I was that 17 year-old girl beaten up physically and emotionally with blood and bruises outside and even more bruised and broken heart inside. I remembered what it was like being in that room abandoned and experienced it again. It was a war for me without any weapons or shields. I got defeated. Excruciatingly painful. Despair. Tears. Heartache. Fear.
I am determined to continue this battle.
Let’s hope the progress.
Reaching out to the “Wounded child”
Hello, my little girl.
You are just 5 years old. You are innocent. You have never done anything wrong. All you wanted was to be accepted, loved and held. But nothing was given to you. You felt left out, abandoned, ignored, criticized, abused verbally, psychologically and physically by your parents and teachers those who you trusted. You never felt safe, cared for and comfortable. You suffered from anxiety, anger, disappointment, sorrow, worries, unworthiness, and loss. You were miserable. You felt so stuck, trapped, and hurt. There was no way out for you. You were too scared to get hurt again by any other human-beings. I see you naked and frozen with countless scars all over your body in the dark alone. You have been in that state for 35 years inside my body deep inside my subconsciousness. You are scared to death beyond words. You have been hurt, scarred and hurt again, again, again, and again before your scars got healed. Countless wounds with bleeding. You had no voice. You had no power. You were completely helpless and hopeless. You just wanted your life to be ended but too scared to end your own life. You were too young to kill yourself. I see you now. I know that you exist in me. I am so sorry that I have not paid attention to all the signs that you have sent me for the past 35 years by having me paralyzed, frozen, sick with all kinds of physical pain and symptoms. How could I not recognize that you were there despite all the signs that you were sending off so hard and consistently?
I still see you alone in the dark. Shall I come by and give you my hand? You are too scared to look at me. You wouldn’t turn your head over me. Do you want me to hold you? Would you like to be held? I know you have never been held by anybody. But I am here now. May I come slowly and carefully giving you a hug? You can always say no to me and ask me to leave you alone. When you ask me to go away, I will. Is that okay that I come back sometime and see how you are doing, my baby girl? I am at a loss of words about the pain that you have gone through that you have been carrying all by yourself. Let me be there for you. I know you cannot trust me. I understand that you are too scared. I dare to tell you that I may start understanding the depth of pain that you have gone through. I am mourning for the loss of your childhood, adolescence and more for the past 35 years. I want to help you feel better. I want to help your pain heal, beautiful. Do you know how precious and beautiful you are? How talented and smart you are? What a golden heart that you have for others? It is so very difficult for you to see who you are. You do not know how to acknowledge your own feelings. Your enemies and predators did nothing but calling you horrible things and treated you badly making you scared, horrified, controlled and trapped. You had nobody to listen to you and see how troubled and horrified you were with your shattered heart. You were too terrified to smile or laugh or cry. You shut your heart with feelings down to protect yourself from those who attacked you and absurd you. You felt that you had no presence. You felt that you were tortured consistently and you had no peace. You felt so unsafe, anxious and lonely. You were in unbearable despair. You chose to try so hard to do well in school to get attention to feel loved because you felt shame of your wounded heart with no self. Parents and teachers recognized you when you did extremely well in school works and won awards. You were obsessed with winning competitions and getting perfect scores in all the tests for love. But nothing changed.
I am getting too tired. You know that I’ve been trying hard to stay awake to talk to you. Please know that I am here for you. You are not alone. I am here with you. I will always be with you. No, this is not a lie. You can trust me. I understand that trust should be earned, not just given. Now I know that you are there in me with silent cry for help. I will not ignore you. I will do everything I can to help you and save you at best. You are me. I am you. We should get along and live together in harmony. I want you to get better. I want you to get healed from the wounds. I want your blood to stop. I want your scars to be healed and removed, if possible. I want you to feel joy and blessing. I want to help you. I am committed to listen to you and do everything I can in my power to help you. I want you to smile. I want you to laugh. I want you to get better enough to be able to get out of the dark and start walking, running and dancing with me. You have no idea how wonderful you are. You are too scarred and hurt to see that now. It will take some time. It may take years and years. I just want you to know that I am here with you now and always will. You are my self. You have a huge hole that makes you feel empty and lonely craving for love and attention. I need to help you fill that hole with loving and positive experiences with other people. Relationships causes problems as well as solutions. I want you to trust me and help me understand who you are, what you have that troubles you and what you want. I am here. I will be here as always.
Will come back see you again with a big hug. My arms are always open for you. Remember that you have someone to turn to. I am everything you have but your scars. You are all I have, dear. Let me mourn for you. I see your grief for loss. You had nobody who you felt connected to. You were extremely lonely. You craved for love. I am here to love you. Please help me how I can love you.
I love you so very much. You are special and worthy of my love. Good night, princess.
Love,
Me
PTSD : Ongoing and recurring battle with dissociative amnesia
I had my first art therapy with my psychologist which I had a lot of fun with earlier today. I drew one image without any ending once I put my pencil on the sketchbook. So it’s like a complicated loop with a bunch of shapes in various sizes in one large image. Couldn’t figure out what it meant when I was asked to explain and did not know how to express my feelings about it. Once I started coloring, it started making more senses to me with clearer images and feelings and helped me realize what it was about. I was even able to name the paining as two selves in one, separated but connected. This doesn’t feel like a coincidence for me to run into this awesome drawing diary of the artist, Bobby Baker. She just motivated me to start keeping a drawing diary. I have struggled from keeping a diary in words. Thank you for Brain Pickings, artist Bobby Baker, and the Guardian, UK!
http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/01/04/bobby-baker-diary-drawings-mental-illness-and-me/
Having somewhat pretty annoying and cloudy headache on upper forehead and head area. Going to sleep soon tonight. Will try to find time and self-discipline to write tomorrow. I’ve got so much to write and draw, yet have failed to do so. Experienced paralysis with dissociative amnesia several times for the past few weeks, just more than 3 times in the past 7 days. That 6 year-old wounded girl with anger, helplessness, terror, horror, grief, loss and devastation completely took my body and mind over and froze me for hours each time. Just started trying to communicate with her. She hasn’t responded, yet. Will keep trying and figure out how to reach out to her. Since therapy and group therapy with psychologists and hypnosis therapy with a psychiatrist, I’ve become exhausted both physically and mentally fast and easily. This takes a toll on me in the process of healing. Long, yet rewarding journey. Don’t push. Step by step. One step at a time. One day at a time. Baby step.
You are alright, baby.
It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.
I will take care of you and be with you.
I love you. I am here for you, baby.
After silence
I have not realized how many days passed me by since my last blog post. I did not honor my commitment to blogging every day. But I do not feel apologetic for it. I will start over my blogging again. There is always the second chance. Self-blame and punishment is never a good answer. It’s been quite challenging since I moved to a new studio in a new neighborhood. Besides that, I started seeing a new psychologist at Catholic sex crime counseling center and had my first clinical hypnosis with a psychiatrist who I recently met. Perhaps seeing three psychologists and one psychiatrist a week and going to a small group therapy meet-up has taken a toll on me. On top of that, one of a small group therapy meet-up member has used me as her therapist for 8-9 hours at a time the past few Sundays. Here it goes, my issue with rejection. I don’t know how to say “No” to those who ask me of help. Is it my rejection issue that I don’t want to be the one rejecting others as much as it has hurt me to be rejected? Looking back, I have not taken good care of myself both physically and emotionally. I won’t stop tiring myself until my body cannot bear it any longer. Yesterday was a good example. After my second counseling session in a day, I was on my way to the gym despite exhaustion telling myself that I should not make any excuses to skip the gym and I will start feeling less tired once I hit the gym. Then I fell asleep on the subway and convinced myself to go home to sleep early. I picked up three pumpkins and one red cabbage for the next few day-meals at the grocery store which were quite heavy for me to carry. I did not buy a plastic bag because I did not want to pay 10 cents for it. By the time I arrived at home, I literally passed out possibly before 5 p.m. and woke up at 9:30 a.m. this morning without waking up. Feeling much rested. I remember having bad migraine before sleep. It’s gone. There are 6 Kakaotalk messages from 6 people on my phone. Kakaotalk is the most popular SNS mobile app in Korea. Everybody was worried about me for not responding to their messages promptly which was unusual. If I do not respond to them within half an hour or so, some get worried and others get offended with feelings of rejection. I had turned off my mobile phone as well as my laptop because I did not want any distractions. I just wanted complete rest and get-away. It was more than just physical exhaustion to my realization. It’s all good now.
It’s important to be self-conscious and self-aware of my emotional and physical needs before I care for other’s because nobody else would care for me and I would be in a better place to take care of others’ needs in a healthier way. I need to be in good health with wellness to have better judgment and senses to make sound decisions and proper actions. It takes conscious efforts for me to carefully listen to my mind and heart because it gets easily ignored and forgotten even before I know it. Because my subconsciousness is used to doing it for nearly 40 years throughout my life. My emotional and physical needs were immediately and harshly ignored, unheard, taken care of and often punished for expressing them to my parents, major care-givers who abandoned and abused me with their mental illnesses. At a young age, I must have chosen to repress my physical and emotional needs and not to express them. Over time, I got used to it so long to a point that I was unable to acknowledge my needs after having them ignored and not taken care of. I have become used not acknowledging my physical and emotional troubles and needs until my body breaks down. My subconsciousness had developed psychosomatic disorder with a variety of symptoms from headache to stomachache with bloated belly that looked like a 3-4 month-pregnant body which got me worried seriously at some point in my 30ies. I had spent significant amount of money, time and energy on going to large medical centers and seeing specialists with symptoms that doctors were unable to diagnose, yet had refused to go see a psychiatrist because I didn’t want to have myself labeled as a mentally ill patient. Yes, I felt ashamed of seeing a psychiatrist who might diagnose me as a patient with mental sickness. I did not want my worries to become my reality because I was too afraid to deal with the reality. I was really hoping that I would be diagnosed with something that has nothing to do with mental illness so that I would not have to face the past traumatic experiences through counseling and treatments. My consciousness avoided such experiences yet it could not stop them from happening throughout my body which is called psychosomatic disorder to my understanding. I want this to stop and no longer want to suffer from the horror and terror caused by the past events in my life. I choose to be happy and to have power to take care of me both physically and emotionally. I want to find help to relieve unresolved psychological and emotional issues that have made negative impacts on myself and my life so that I can finally truly move forward. I was wrong that I was free from the abuse and harm from my parents and the rapist. Partially true that I have been physically away from them, but mostly untrue that I have been psychologically and emotionally seized, frozen, and overwhelmed by the experiences in shock. There have been all kinds of symptoms at all different forms and colors in the past 20 years or so which made it very difficult and challenging for me to pursue my study, career, and relationships with human-beings included friendship and romantic relationships. I have often failed in all areas of my life and have fallen very badly hitting the rock bottom leading to despair and depression. I have re-experienced the horror, helplessness, terror, and isolation over and over and have lived in shock. This has to end. I recently started working with psychologists and a psychiatrist as the first step. It has been difficult going through therapy and treatments as it is often making me feel terrified, however I keep telling myself not to give up. I crave intimacy, yet find it extremely difficult with intimacy when it is about to happen and somehow find a way to remove myself from it by running away. Let’s take the baby step and take one day at a time. As an example, let me go outside and feel the warm of sunshine with gratitude.
As of right now, I am glad and thankful for having not ended my life after I was nearly killed by domestic violence and rape. I choose to be happy with positive affirmations and to surround myself with those who support me, understand me and love me in order to build positive experiences in my life and to start making a huge hole in my heart smaller slowly and gradually. Patience.
Thank you for being alive at this moment.
Thank you for you.
You Are Not Alone 