Searching for Safety

Before I went to the emergency room, I remember trying to do everything I could possibly think of to make myself feel safe and secure. My whole body felt like it was fighting to the death to find homeostasis again. I just wanted to be in balance. During my recovery time, I’m seeing that my search for finding safety stems from feeling unsafe as a child and through my adult years.

I was trying everything to seek comfort as an adult. I tried massages, magnesium, melatonin, tea, weighted blankets, exercise, unhealthy relationships, walking 3 miles, float therapy, changing careers, going out with friends, sleep routines, and acupressure mats. It worked per se, but it was impossible to maintain with a full schedule of being a teacher and mom. At the end of it, all I wanted to do was hide under my blanket with my dog and cry like a child. So I did.

We hear it all the time in sitcoms, jokes, or this great new generation of adults going to therapy—heal your inner child. My second therapist told me to imagine myself as a child covered in wounds and blood, and as an adult I needed to heal it and slowly wipe it off. The visualization really helped me move forward and progress as an individual. However, as I expressed in my first essay, I cut everyone out, specifically my parents and my then boyfriend.

What do you do when the people you feel safest with also make you feel bad? Cutting them out felt like I moved two steps forward, one and a half steps back. I didn’t want them out of my life, I just wanted them to know how I felt, but what I communicated was “hey this is your fault, so the only way to fix it is to get rid of you.” I pushed them away then got mad when they left. It was a lose-lose for everyone. I had to face the reality that I was no longer a wounded child; I was a wounded adult. And that part is for me to fix, so stay tuned.

Currently:

• Reading: Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends on It by Kamal Ravikant

• Listening to: Sun and Moon by Anees