Take What You Need and Leave the Rest
The costs and benefits of escaping generational trauma
As I came to after surgery yesterday, I tried hard to catch hold of the dream I’d been having while under anesthesia. It was good. I lost it. The nurse asked me a question and, in answering her, I let go of the message from my unconscious. Sitting on the gurney looking down at my sock-covered feet and hospital-gown-covered legs, an epiphany overcame me.
I don’t have to do everything my parents did.
I can take what I need and leave the rest.
I have been more anxious than I’ve allowed myself to acknowledge about the multiple medical tests I scheduled for myself back to back over the past week. I haven’t had health insurance for the past few years in the midst of divorce and unemployment (and a global pandemic), leaving me neglecting preventive healthcare despite believing in its many benefits.
Not taking care of myself with regular doctors’ check-ups has felt like the opposite of self care, making me highly critical of myself, feeling like I’m doing something wrong, taking reckless risks — especially with my family health history. I feel this way even though external forces outside my control led me to this state of inadequate healthcare/self care.
Emotional trauma makes our bodies sick, too
I divorced my husband, which invited him to be even more punishing. Society and the legal system actively enabled him in multiple ways. In the course of escaping my ex, I dove deep into trauma recovery.
I read hundreds of books, completed a year-long trauma studies certificate program with the Trauma Research Foundation, attended four trauma conferences, took part in several workshops, completed courses in everything from attachment disorders and polyvagal theory to working with kids and teens and those in complete denial.
I exited narcissistic abuse by studying narcissistic abuse intensively. I went at it with more fervor than I’ve done anything else before in my life. I did it while living in temporary housing across seven states in the midst of a global pandemic; I did all this to keep myself and my children healthy.
I divorced my husband, which invited him to be even more punishing. Society and the legal system actively enabled him in multiple ways.
Everything I do is about keeping myself and my children healthy. In this way, I depart radically from my parents. I hope this means my children will have better health than I have had. I take our health very seriously. Because it has been in jeopardy for years. Because we were living in a toxic system. This has led me to work even harder to have a healthy environment in my home now.
At the same time, I have had very little income in the past five years as I made my escape and bounced through all the parts of my past to heal my own trauma. This has made prioritizing our health more difficult. If I learned anything from the trauma studies deep dive I’ve done for the past five years, it is this: Denial does not heal trauma.
It makes it worse. Denial is re-traumatizing to those who experienced trauma. To heal, we have to face the past and feel. We are — every single one of us — carrying the trauma in our bodies that we weren’t able to release at the time we experienced it.
I exited narcissistic abuse by studying narcissistic abuse intensively. I went at it with more fervor than I’ve done anything else before in my life. I did it while living in temporary housing across seven states
This trapped trauma contributes to any and every health challenge anyone faces. I know that’s a bold statement. I believe it to be absolutely true. Until we treat the trauma, we will — all of us — be beseiged with healthcare challenges in a healthcare system that frankly SUCKS. (At least for readers in the United States.)
I say this despite having multiple attentive and efficient interactions with the healthcare system this week. I love efficiency more than most. And yet efficiency in healthcare can come at a cost. Healthcare is deeply personal. It is not one size fits all. Docs on tight schedules are going to miss things. This is just a reality.
Efficiency works well for most, while endangering those of us who do not fit the norms. But I am not trying to critique the U.S. healthcare system in this essay.
What am I trying to do in this essay?
I’m trying to capture the post-colonoscopy anesthesia epiphany I had yesterday: that I don’t have to do EVERYTHING my parents did.
I don’t have to have problems with my heart or colon just because they did. I can exit the narcissistic abuse that goes back at least five generations on both sides of my family tree. I have made hard, scary, stressful choices in hopes of keeping my body healthy.
I LEFT my marriage.
I got divorced. I took an enormous financial hit, gave up my home, and parted with many of my belongings. I went through a grueling, expensive, punishing legal process. I learned that many friends and family aren’t willing or able to be there for me when I need them. I felt more alone than I have ever felt before in my life.
To heal, we have to face the past and feel. We are — every single one of us — carrying the trauma in our bodies that we weren’t able to release at the time we experienced it.
My mom didn’t leave. Surely because she understood how little support she would receive. Instead she died. I didn’t want to die. So I left. Leaving helped me learn exactly why my mother didn’t.
It is terrifying. And dangerous. And will be punished by many around you. It takes enormous strength and even greater resilience. It takes resources. It takes courage. It takes much longer and is much harder than anyone tells you.
My mom didn’t leave. Surely because she understood how little support she would receive. Instead she died. I didn’t want to die. So I left. Leaving helped me learn exactly why my mother didn’t.
The consequences of not leaving can include cancer, neurological disorders, autoimmune disorders, brain damage, chronic pain, chronic fatigue, dangerously low self-esteem, cognitive decline, memory loss, dementia, suicide, and murder.
Remaining in an abusive relationship is in no way better for the kids. It slowly kills the one parent they count on for love. Ask the kid of a mother who stayed. AS the kid of a mother who stayed, I left. In order to live.
My clean colonoscopy yesterday was such a relief. A true gift. I was braced for potentially catastrophic news yesterday. I have a higher-than-average chance of getting colon cancer because my mother had it. Not only that, I was in a marriage that didn’t allow me to express fear or anger. Just like my mother. Leading it to collect in my body.
Remaining in an abusive relationship is in no way better for the kids. It slowly kills the one parent they count on for love. Ask the kid of a mother who stayed.
Fortunately, I did what my mom couldn’t and left, which let me feel and express my fear and anger and release it from my body instead of tamping it down to collect in a tumor in my colon. My colonoscopy results yesterday were not only immensely relieving, they were a gratifying indicator I made the right choice in choosing divorce.
I am grateful.
Thank you for reading. I write about memoir writing on Mondays and self-compassion on Tuesdays. Please clap, share, and follow if this was helpful. I also gratefully accept tips here.
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