• Ebony Williams

Back in Therapy

Starting my first therapy session today in what seems like forever... well, 5 years to be exact. I was hesitant at first because, I didn't know what to expect, which is strange, seeing how I've done therapy for eight years prior to my little "vacation" from reality. So, I get into my session and I'm asked a simple question:


"Tell me about your childhood. You don't have to dive in right away, but it's up to you." Innocent enough right? I took a deep breath and then started with what it was like growing up in Alaska, my childhood, and then the tears started to come. We reached the death of my best friend, the only person who I mattered to, and the words stopped coming. I was stuck between a piercing pain in the middle of my chest, seeping through my bones, slowly escaping through the waterfall that's violently spewing out of my eye sockets. I was saying so many words...in my mind. Nothing escaped my lips. "Who are you to your family, what's your role?"

I dove deep again, sharing things that to me, didn't seem like a big deal but in reality, it was a major deal. Soon I felt like Luisa from Encanto with "Surface Pressure" playing as my soundtrack. I revealed to her that when I watched that movie and Surface Pressure came on, I cried. I've never connected more to a song in my life. I received texts from people saying that I'm Luisa! They tried to make it a compliment, that's when I realized, the message went over their heads. They didn't understand the movie, it was just entertainment to them. Am I just entertainment to them too? How I feel... it also....always goes over their heads.


Alone.


That's how I felt growing up. That's how I felt in my jobs. That's how I felt in my relationships. That's how I felt in my friendships. Alone. No matter who was around I was alone. During my time of suicidal thoughts and attempts, I was alone. Hosting concerts with over 100k people, I was still on that stage, introducing the biggest names in music and I was alone. During sex with partners that I loved, I adored and so desperately wanted them to love me back, but I was still alone. Just a human sock for them to masturbate with. Even now, more than ever I am alone. Mainly because I look in the mirror and have no idea who that person is staring back at me. How did I get here? How did I allow this to happen to me? How did I, change my life, sacrifice so much just to feel so... alone?


When asked: "Who are you to yourself?" I couldn't answer. I said, "I am lost."


Optimistic.


That's how I felt after the talk. Maybe something will change one day, maybe I will look in the mirror and fall in love with the Ebony I've tried so hard to become. Maybe one day, I'll get back to myself. Loving myself. Trusting myself. Being free. Being me. Being... just fucking being. I shared my desire to get her back, heal her, and move to that next level of love and light that I know I can possess. I shared that I lost myself and hate the Ebony that I've become while stuck in this staggered prison that's supposed to be filled with love and instead it's filled with shame, hate, pain, hurt, lies, deceit, and negativity. I want to be free without causing pain to those around me. It's clear that pain sometimes comes with growth, and it's not my responsibility to handle or heal other people's pain and problems.


Reality.


It will take a lot of work. At 32, I had homework, actual homework. I want to say I hated it but I enjoyed it. I learned a lot about myself and I felt a little spark back in my heart. It was revealed that I'm reverting back to my childhood way of dealing with trauma because my current situation is bringing it back into my life. I was stuck when my therapist shed light on the patterns, mind you, this was our first meeting and she already nailed it on the head. It hurt because I knew that my therapist was right. I guess it's true, sometimes we do chase our past hurts in the form of relationships just to try and fix something... someone... an "unsub" as Criminal Minds fans would say.


Is she my unsub?


Probably, in a sick twisted way, she is the pain that I've been running from all my life. She is the turmoil that slowly drains my happiness, the bad thoughts lingering in my mind reminding me of all my flaws and what I'll never be. She is the hole-filled blanket that offers no warmth, and the unlocked doors that provide no security. She is the rejection I'm used to, the mind fuck I'm subscribed to. She's the demented heart shredding pain that pulls me out at their leisure. She is the train I want to avoid but can't help but walk in front of.


Therapy..... This will be a great adult discovery.