The Hardest Pages

So...

Today was another Written Exposure Therapy (WET) writing day. I explained what WET is and how it works in an earlier post, so I won't go into the details again here. When I wrote that post, however, I hadn't actually experienced a writing session.

Now I have completed three.

The first two sessions were incredibly difficult. In fact, the emotional aftermath was so overwhelming that I ended up in the hospital after them.

Today, I feel emotionally drained. I also feel guilty and ashamed.

Writing about something so painful is incredibly difficult. Even though the trauma happened many years ago, the memories still feel as vivid as if they happened yesterday. The emotions come rushing back with remarkable intensity.

The hardest part is that a part of me still believes it was my fault. Somewhere deep inside, I still hear the voice telling me that I asked for it. That belief has stayed with me for decades, and it is one of the most painful burdens I carry.

For thirty years, I told no one. I kept the trauma locked away because I was overwhelmed by shame and guilt. I couldn't imagine anyone knowing. What would people think? How would my friends react? Would they believe me? Even now, part of me wants to hide it again, bury it, and pretend it never happened.

Written Exposure Therapy doesn't allow that.

Instead, it gently but persistently brings those memories to the surface. At times, it feels as though I am reliving the experience. It is exhausting work, and it asks more of me than I ever imagined.

The difference today is that I am not facing it alone.

I am surrounded by a safe treatment team and a wonderful support network. They remind me that I don't have to carry this burden by myself. The sadness is still there, but this time I have people beside me as I work through it.

Recovery isn't about making the pain disappear overnight. Sometimes it means having the courage to face what you've spent years trying to avoid. As difficult as these writing days are, I hope they are leading me toward healing, one painful page at a time.