1468C INSIGHT LADEN, INTUITIVE THOUGHT INSPIRES HEALING FROM THE INSIDE OUT

(Written last summer, recovered from drafts, today)
If you've been following my blog then you know that over most of my life, I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a set of interrelated subconscious fears, each of which haunted my peace of mind with sensations of, one day, being left to fend for myself,  feeling as alone as I had misconceived at the impressionable age of three during a span of utterly confounding, grief-stricken months in the aftermath of my grandfather's and baby sister's unexpected deaths, and here's how that set of inter-related, unidentified fears would be titled upon full disclosure to my conscious awareness, today:

FULLY-EMERGED SUBCONSCIOUSLY INTER-RELATED FEARS NUMBERING ONE THROUGH TEN

Curious for more?
Okay, here they come—one by one:

Fully emerged fear number ONE born of a childhood experience:
I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a subconscious fear of holding myself reprehensibly accountable for my baby sister's death ... (after hearing my God-fearing grandma charge my grief-stricken mother with being responsible for her baby's death ...)

Fully emerged inter-related fear number TWO born of a childhood experience:
I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a subconscious fear of explosive anger (casting blame upon the innocent heads of grief-stricken survivors of family tragedy), which proved far too complex for the undeveloped think tank of a three year old to fathom when every spirit, upon whom she'd depended, was seen drowning in the turbulence of emotional rapids that swirled darkly into depression based in the fact that unresolved anger, swallowed, turns inward, lying in wait to resurface some time in the future, releasing the dark side that had swallowed the spirit of a traumatized child (now grown to be an adult) whole.

Fully emerged inter-related fear number THREE born of a childhood experience:
I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a subconscious fear, charging my conscious awareness with hyper-vigilance in order to not be responsible for the future death of one of my children (though you'd have thought that my need to purchase an extra grave, several decades back, would have offered my conscious awareness a clue as to why my intuitive powers felt need to seek out a variety of therapists until one counselor had the insight to recommend another, who, having been well-trained in EMDR therapy, has astutely associated my episodic bouts of spiking anxiety with undiagnosed PTSD.  (Common sense suggests that a deep-seated fear, which remains unidentified over a person's lifetime, is close to impossible to resolve.)

Fully emerged inter-related fear number FOUR born of a childhood experience:
I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a subconscious fear of being seen as so fat as to be surrounded and painfully belittled by male derision, forever, as had been true of Miss Piggy when what was left of my subconscious self worth had been devoured alive by the lord of the flies on the school bus to Hell.

Fully emerged inter-related fear number FIVE born of a childhood experience:

I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a subconscious fear of making do with a lifetime of unremitting emotional and physically searing pain.

Fully emerged inter-related fear number SIX, born of a childhood experience:
I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a subconscious fear of feeling like prey, fated to endure rape, repeatedly, to feed raw animal lust lurking behind the attentiveness of a man who'd betrayed an innocent child (whose subconscious fear of angering authority figures had curtailed the on-going development of the self assertive portion of her voice, which having been too traumatized to clearly express her personal needs ever since the age of three, had led to her quiet submission, participating in acts that deepened her self esteem's sense of trauma ...)

Fully emerged inter-related fear number SEVEN born of a childhood experience:
I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a subconscious fear of personal worthlessness that ran so deep as to spontaneously depress my spirit if smiles did not answer every heartfelt vigil that my mind's eye focused upon my extended family's sense of safe keeping.

Fully emerged inter-related fear number EIGHT born of a childhood experience:
I'd had no conscious clue of harboring a subconscious fear of worrying over death separating loved ones before each felt free to reveal the depth of their bottled up love for each other, until, finally, my strength of spirit plum wore itself out, and devoid of energy necessary to safeguard anyone's safe-keeping, my survival instinct drew my body into my bedroom (as my mother before me had done after her mother had condemned her innocent daughter guilty of offending God by shopping on the Sabbath), whereby upon crawling under the covers, 63 year old me curled into the fetal position, feeling mentally, physically and emotionally spent with no conscious clue that this emergent, undiagnosed, full blown episode of PTSD had alerted my adult sons to pick up the proverbial baton of familial guardianship that I'd unknowingly picked up to safeguard my mother, first upon the death of my sister and then, again, upon the death of my father, when at the age of 87, her severely depressed spirit, which, yet again, could not rise from her bed, remained utterly resistant to admitting to her advanced age, and as such, her willful struggle to remain connected to her vanished youth refused to pass that baton to me ... and what else is new in the world at large when the older generation knows nothing about freely choosing to check into one's own subconscious fears, which give rise to stubborn attitudes that undermine loving relationships to the point of confounding and shattering everyone's peace of mind ... so sad, so true, too often ...

Fully emerged fear number NINE born of a childhood experience:
When told that everyone harbors a dark side, I'd no conscious clue of mine as having proved to be as dark as a black cat hiding under a ladder at midnight ...

Fully emerged suppressed (though not repressed) fear number TEN:
Fear that I'd never fully recover from episodic eruptions of PTSD, which would not have had reason to grow so severe had the vein-popping, furious finger of blame for the death of her child not been cast at my mother by her mother (a fact that my mother chose never to divulge to my father) during an impassioned argument, which I'd witnessed (several weeks after my grandfather's and then Janet's alarming 'disappearances') causing me, trembling with traumatized anxiety, to hide in a closet at the highly impressionable, terrified age of three—at which time, Mother Nature saw fit to save the highly impressionable mind of a small child's hold onto sanity by waving her magic wand, which erected a wall of denial behind which fears ONE through TEN layered up, taking permanent residence inside my brain until I sat down for my first session of EMDR therapy ... and ever since that day, I've thanked my therapist for guiding me patiently toward excavating my subconscious until one courageous, intiutive reveal tapped into a string of insights that led to the next—for example—

In summation of today's train of intuitive thought, memory has just released a moment in time about four decades back when I listened to a wearied, dispirited friend ask Will—Doesn't Annie ever get angry or sad or just plain tired?  I see her, every day when we pick up the kids from school, and she's always as cheerful, smiling and eager to be of help as if she'd never had a worry about anything—So strongly stacked had been my wall of denial as to have kept everyone's conscious awareness as clueless as mine, regarding my having harbored as many secrets from myself, fearfully locked within a dark side that proved darker than I or anyone who'd thought to know me well could have consciously imagined to be true behind my sunny smile.

And thus hath today's train of intuitive awareness offered my current sense of clarity the agility with which to identify this matched set of ten inner conflicts, which had from time to time felt stimulated by life experiences to release undiagnosed episodes of PTSD that, intermittently over my lifetime, had seeped out of (or blown straight through) my defense system's many layered wall of denial, leaving my peace of mind anxiously torn to shreds until the gentle approach of a therapist, trained in EMDR therapy, encouraged my intuitive intelligence to muster the patience, courage and humility necessary to determinedly and conscientiously tolerate the mental tension associated with proactively peeling back one layer of denial after another, resulting in my reliving multiple strikes of yesteryear’s unsealed high anxiety until this intersecting set of deeply repressed, subconscious fears emerged, all at once, and as knowledge is power, so serene has my attitude of self worth become as to note that penning today’s post hath not initiated so much as even a hint of spiking subconscious anxiety to interfere one iota with the strength of my thought processor's connection to clarity as each of these identified fears, bolstered by inner strengths, marched out of my intuitive memory, today ...

See why I couldn't expand upon yesterday's budding insights, which, though threatening to burst into full bloom, were overwhelming my think tank with anxious confusion until today's intuitive string of insights blossomed, offering me the readiness to name and absorb this matched set of fully emerged fears, which had need to ripen on the vine at a leisurely pace so as to flow ever so naturally out of my consciously aware think tank, today, as would a finely aged wine, today.  Whew!

Happy wedding shower to my mom, seen with her mom on her right and dad's mom on her left

Circa 1941

My father had no clue of the impassioned power struggles that ensued between my grandmother and mother when he was at work, while I, hiding in the hall closet (dodging arrows that pierced my mother's grief-stricken heart), scratched anxiously hoping against hope that my hero—who'd assumed that his wife was still taking to her bed, because she could not yet absorb her infant daughter's untimely demise—would walk in our apartment at the end of each day, miraculously creating a ceasefire that would see a small child leap to safety into her father's welcoming, stout-hearted arms ...

Today in our world of self help, a three year old little girl who'd smiled and pleased by day and scratched by night till both bandaged arms had need of medical attention would, no doubt, find her traumatized self whisked into therapy before she'd turned four ... 

 If you asked whom this little girl (see bandaged arms) would have grown up to be had she not had my good fortune to have felt the depth of my extended family's adoration (as Ravi is adored) before turning three, I'd reply: 

 I don't know whom a little girl who had not felt adored until the age of three would have grown up to be; however, she most certainly would not have grown up to be me ...

No wonder why my mantra—Never Give Up On Knowing Yourself in Depth— continues to ring true no matter how complex life and our love relationships tend to be, because scary secrets, concerning deeper truths that we keep from ourselves, once revealed, liberate our crestfallen spirits from anger turned inward, which awaits excavation from subconscious storage throughout every stage of each person's life!