Not Quite Healed

A note from Cec: 

Lee Willis emailed and gave me permission to reprint this. He also wrote, "In any future emails, please use my name.” It’s part of saying, “Look at me. I’m a real person and this really happened.” He said, “Thanks for helping me finally find a safe place. I’ve tried other internet sites and felt uncomfortable and abandoned them. This is safe. I’ll be back often.”

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I found the book Not Quite Healed. I haven’t finished reading it, but it has already helped a lot. I did therapy over the years, which helped, but I became burned out and stopped. I don’t regret stopping because I believe it was beginning to do more harm than good.

I started therapy after my mother died and I had some strong anger issues with her and my father who died years ago. My first therapist, whom I completely trusted, was cautious not to sway my way of thinking.

After several visits, he diagnosed me with severe PTSD, since I had most of the usual symptoms. I journaled privately and then read my journal in our sessions and talked about the entries.

One day I was reading my journal to him, and he stopped me. He told me to go back because he felt I skipped over something. I read the part about being a young boy at the day care and two men abusing me.

I threw my journal to the floor, buried my head in my hands and sobbed uncontrollably, wishing I would die. Throughout the next two years, I talked to my therapist about sexual and physical abuse in our home as well as the day care.

In an effort to help my sister, I tried to bring this up to her; however, she adamantly denied it, and turned the rest of my extended family against me.

My memories are vague. My therapist told me that I had traumatic amnesia. My therapist told me that I would not be making up stories about such abuse and he didn’t plant any ideas in my mind that would cause me to come up with specifics.

I have told my family and been shunned as a result, I feel considerable shame, wondering if my so-called recovered traumatic memories were nothing more than an overactive and exaggerated imagination.

I have continued to struggle with intimacy issues and addictions. I came to the conclusion recently that those things must be true and began to accept them.

I still feel anger, but it seems to lessen when I own up to the abuse. In the back of my mind I wonder, “Suppose it wasn’t true. Then I have slandered people.”

I have found relief in your book and your blog. I feel at peace there.

We all have stories. It’s all about pain and shame and owning it, I think. I try not to dwell on it and push it out of my mind, but then the anger comes and the addictions worsen. I realize I can’t do this on my own.