Dialogue with my body
Sunday, May 23, 2010 at 9:24PM 
Me: What happened? My right hip. Why did you decide to hurt again? I remembered that father raped me, I have felt your pain through many panic attacks. I've released your pain in cranio-sacral therapy. It diminished. I have seen the chiropractor, he found one leg shorter than the other, for 1 inch. I did knee surgery, I'm wearing a 1 inch foot insert, you stopped hurting. I's been almost a month. What is it that I am doing wrong? Why do you hurt again?
Body: Maybe I haven’t told you everything yet about my pain, maybe I just gave you a break, to grow thicker skin, to be ready for more, for worse. Listen to the images I send you in dreams, the images of a chicken, it’s right leg being cracked out of it’s cavity, with an audible pop. Remember how you attempted to have sex with your husband just this week, and how you freaked out when he was on top of you, how you suddenly felt a much bigger heavier body on top of your right hip, pinning you down? Twisting your leg out of its socket? Smelling of sweat and alcohol?
Me: I’m scared – what else could there be? I don’t want to remember anymore – please! I can’t bear any more, I thought I was done, I thought I healed, I thought now I can backpack and hike and run and walk like all the other people do. I want to!
Body: You know what by running away from it you will still carry it – please listen to me, there is something I am telling you that you don’t want to hear.
Me: Yes, I am. Tell me. This is the second week now that my throat hurts – what does this mean? I can’t eat or drink anything acidic, but I am not sick, yet my whole throat feels stuffed and on fire. Is this another story you are trying to tell? What is this one about? And how can I get rid of the pain? I’ve tried everything, nothing works…
Body: Remember when you told your family the first time, the truth? Remember you got so sick that you lost your voice? They didn’t want it, and I tried showing you how painful it was for me to hold the truth for so many years – it hurt me that you didn’t listen, that you pushed my need to speak up, to scream, deep down. It hurt me that you learned to be silent – even when abused, the only thing you would allow me to do I shed tears, quietly. I can’t hold all this truth, you know – it needs to get out. That’s why I hurt – so that you would hear me finally.
Me: But I am talking about it – look, I am writing, people are reading, it is all public!
Body: Yes, but you’re not talking to your family, and all my anger is now sitting in the throat, lodged there, waiting to be released. I hurt, can’t you hear me! I still hurt! After so many years, you think I can just get perfect for you in a snap? In couple months? Do you think it is easy carrying your pains inside, do you think I like it? Do you even know what effort it cost me to protect you from this pain, so that you could function? Well, I am done carrying it around, it’s time to release it. You don’t love me! You pay no attention to my needs! I need you to hear me!
Me: I’m sorry. I am trying, I don’t know how to. I will learn, I promise. I won’t be sad about not being able to walk for one mile without pain – I will sit down, into the tall grass, I will massage you and nurture you, I will cuddle with you, and we will sit there together until you think we can walk again. And if we can’t, I will call someone to help. I won’t be sad about not being able to talk for too long – I will give you rest, I will gargle with olive oil, and if I need to stay silent for a whole week, I will. I am sorry. I love you. I promise. Please, don’t think I don’t hear you. I do. Please, speak up, please, show me where it hurts – I will kiss every little spot to make it feel better.
Body: I cry. Thank you.
Reader Comments (2)
Very powerful work you are doing. You have the courage there inside of you to do what needs to be done. Sometimes it is hard to know what you are supposed to be doing.
I remember back when I was 38 years old and I got into several 12-Step programs. When I first started talking about my incest issues, I got bronchitis. I had not had bronchitis since I was a teenager before I left home. I knew that my body was telling me that I was doing the right thing by speaking out even though I was very afraid of breaking the silence of incest.
Patricia, thank you - this means a lot to me... And now I know I am not alone, and I am not going crazy.