I’ll never forget the day Donald-you-know-who got elected president of the United States. I was living in Nicaragua and was already fed up with how things were going in my home country and personal environment. I had jumped ship. I was working remotely, and once I heard the news, I called in sick, and I was sick. I went to the beach and walked up and down the stretch of white sand, tormented by shock and disgust. I could not believe it.
This has nothing to do with conservative versus liberal. I have met devils and angels of equal proportion on both sides of political lines. This is about him abusing women. My life forever changed that day because what came into my consciousness was not what I was expecting. Up until then, I had been expecting everything to work out. Expecting the worst couldn’t and wouldn’t happen. The message I received that day was unrelated to what I expected. What came to my attention in the aftershock was this: everything happening in the outside world is a reflection of something happening within me. I don’t know what it was about this moment in US history that triggered this understanding, this visceral knowing, this soul-quaking inside me, but it was undeniable. I knew, without fully understanding the implications, that the wretched feeling in my gut, the vile disgust, the powerlessness, the terror …. the hate… was living in me. It would be a few more years of escalating political, personal, and spiritual crises before I would get to the root of it—the trauma that, for me, was rooted in childhood.
It is a hard pill to swallow, but it is ultimately freeing. The power to heal lies within us, not outside of us. Getting to the root of my suffering cost me everything that society has historically valued (family, friends, financial stability, status, face), which felt like death, but what it has left me with is a deep sense of sanity, faith, and peace.
I wouldn’t necessarily wish a rude awakening, which mine turned out to be, on anyone, but I also wouldn’t trade it for anything. It left me with what is essentially me. Only me. Not me, plus a bunch of cultural, societal, and generational garbage inside me that doesn’t belong to me (or at least less and less of it with every passing day). I am no longer a dumping ground. I’m becoming free. I’m free of chronic pain, free of insomnia, free of almost all chronic anxiety. Free of disgust and that vile feeling from being abused that many of us know too well.
I won’t utter the name of people who abuse women, but it’s not because I hold hate within me. It is because I have successfully said, “See you later, man.” Your garbage is not a part of me anymore. I will not self-destruct or lose energy because of you. I will not be tormented or conflicted because of you. No part of you lives in me.
If the task is to turn within instead of or at least before taking outward action, isn’t that apathy or bypassing what needs to be done to change things? There are stages to healing, and this has nothing to do with apathy, giving up, or denying reality. In fact, since embodying this orientation to life, I am much more engaged and productive than I have ever been. I am responding in a much healthier and more humble way to life. We are always a work in progress, but tangible progress and a significant reduction in suffering are absolutely possible. It was about three years of treading in the timeless basement of hell to physically process most of the repressed trauma energy stored in my body, but I survived, and it is a privilege to be able to tell about it.
I am still dealing with normal life stuff, broken-down cars, puzzling relationships, fluctuating desires and aversions, moments of dysregulation, ignorance, and awkwardness. The main difference now is that there is no constant underlying anguish. There is no confusion about what is causing my suffering.
In this way, Tr&#p was an awakener.
So, what about Taco Bell?
Some people say you never fully heal. I agree on one level: enlightenment is not necessarily a realistic goal in this lifetime. I still have stuff to heal. I could come down with any manner of disease or ailment at any moment. Disaster could strike. The difference is I don’t live with an underlying sense of terror and reactivity anymore. So, in my experience, you can come a long freaking way.
My healing journey has been very physical, and so it has been easy for me to “track” progress, you might say. The ovarian pain and the severity of adrenal fatigue and anxiety have steadily lessened. Month after month, my energy increases, and the severity of dysregulation I experience is relatively minimal.
Prior to getting to the root of childhood trauma, I was drinking quite heavily to numb and to “not know,” “not feel,” and “not remember.” When I stopped numbing, my adrenals and my nervous system almost couldn’t handle the amount of energy (aka trauma) coming up to be processed. I was in a constant state of crippling dysregulation, extreme fatigue, and physical pain. I was barely able to work and could not tolerate social interaction or relationships.
I still become dysregulated; for example, I’m almost always slightly dysregulated at the end of a workday. That is to say, work is helping bring up the remainder of the heavy-duty physical trauma left to process. It’s nothing unmanageable or debilitating anymore. This is where Taco Bell comes in. I enjoy eating pretty healthy these days, which has been a natural consequence of my body finding a state of equilibrium. I am obsessed with fresh, locally grown veggies and hot tea and don’t have any real hang-ups about food. I eat as much as I want and whatever sounds good. When I am dysregulated (aka sensory overload, aka processing dense energies, aka processing trauma), I crave dense ultra-salty food. I have learned to give myself what my body is asking for, which may be a scary thought if you believe you will lose control or others will judge you for your 'unhealthy' choices, but I am not scared of any of that. Set that aside. About once a month, I’ll get a black Bean Crunch Wrap supreme and a Coke from Taco Bell, which is just the ticket. If I could guess, I would say it has something to do with my adrenals being depleted and needing the salt and sugar to replenish, but the reasons are not important to me. I trust myself and my body. In these cases, Taco Bell is a healing food.
Healing isn’t all rainbows, love, and light. It is about many things, including getting real.
Love,
Megan
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