I have 2 answers to your question. One may come off as smart-ass, and a bit flip. The other is probably too deep to get into in a single post... but that never stopped me before, did it? Heh heh heh!
So "How did I do it?" I repressed all the memories of the abuse, until I had found myself at a point in my life where I enjoyed my career, had made peace with my God, and understood the mechanics of grief. Then, once I had that grounding in place, I surrounded myself with my most trusted friends, and unlocked the dark parts of my brain by smoking pot.
Since none of that will fit into a "how to" on abuse recovery, I'm at a loss on how to answer your question. I've got some ideas, but they're kind of vague. I guess we'll find out together...
Understanding the grieving process seems to be at the root of it. It was after I started dealing with the loss of my grandfather, the summer before I became a sophmore in high school (August 1990), that I began my interest in studying psychology, so that I could "help people." I had really low self esteem at that point in my life, so that's really when my Self started working itself out. I was active in Boy Scouts, my church youth group, and was on the swim team. My family (while not perfect) provided a good atmosphere of love and support for my self worth to flourish in the years between my 9th and 12th grade years.
I enjoyed the backpacking and teachings of Scouts; found out that my "non-athletic" self was actually GOOD (gasp!) at a sport (swimming); and discovered my faith, which helped me through the worst part of the loss of my grandfather.
Now, once those foundations were laid, I went off to college in 1992, and started becoming independent from my parents, working to pay (most of) my own way, and living (mostly) on my own. I made a best friend who questioned everything, and we would discuss all things political, social, and philosophical (we still do). And I studied the inner workings of the human brain and examined mankind's search for deeper meaning, through my coursework in Psychology and Philosophy at UCSD. Coincidentally, I also stopped going to church (I would go to the occassional Christmas or Easter service, but we all know those don't really count).
OK, graduation day, 1996! I moved from conservative San Diego County to conservative Orange County, in with one of my best friends from high school. I had trouble finding a job utilizing my major and had to work 2 1/2 jobs while taking the bus, but all was good for awhile.
Then my cousin committed suicide, and all the hard work of building my self worth and meaning in life were all but destroyed. I managed to pull it together long enough to convince a group home that they should hire me in April 97. It was a home for emotionally disturbed teenagers (and I'm not being redundant). What followed was a long line of "growing experiences" (ie shitty times in my life), wherein I discovered that tenacity (or is that "stubborness"?) that Tauruses are known to have. My friends and family begged me to find a new job, and I put it off, because I was doing "important work." I eventually sought therapy, because my cousin's death had shaken me up more than seemed to make any sense (considering that we hadn't been terribly close). And since the therapy was obtained through my HMO, it was shortlived (though extremely helpful).
Life continued on, and I remained at a job that was eating my soul from the inside out. Somewhere in the course of this, I slept with a married woman, who tried to manipulate me into becoming her fulltime lover. When I spurned her, she ratted me out to her hubbie, who in righteous anger, heaved a 10 lb rock through my living room window. The next 6 months were spent with fear, shame, and guilt. As the shitstorm gathered, I was getting pulled further and further from my close friends due to my odd work schedule, and then we parted ways, looking for new housing. Eventually, I realized that if I didn't escape my job soon, I would be burnt out on the field completely, and I think my boss could read that on my face. Because I felt so utterly defeated when I talked to him (after several discussions before that), and then I was transferred before the week was up! That will be a year ago, in about 2 weeks.
In the crucible of those hard times, I refused to let myself be swallowed up completely by the self-doubt and fear. That isn't to say that I was Mr. Happy Sunshine. As a matter of fact, after I started working with the little kids, it was my mom (well, anyone that met me, really) that commented how much happier I looked than the last time they had seen me.
You can read my story in the archives from about July of this year to see the signs that led me to the discovery of my abuse (that's a whole book unto itself). It actually took the tragedies of 9/11 for my faith to take hold once more. I had been poking around Christianity again half-heartedly for the past year and a half. I still have major issues, but the biggest ones stopping me have been answered.
So where the hell did all this strength come from, Manchild? It seems to be in the face of intense trials that my true nature has revealed itself. But I can't say how anyone can develop it for themselves. I have never felt "tough" or "normal" in all my life. And putting on a show of toughness working with probation teenage boys contributed to my feelings of worthlessness during the first 3 1/2 years of my employ. "Manliness" is a concept that I will probably disagree with everyone on. Well, maybe not here...
Wow... all that started to make sense! I honestly didn't know where that was going to go, when I started it.
We're in this together.
Jeremy
[ October 09, 2001: Message edited by: Just Call me J ]
