Voids.

Voids. We all have them in various sizes and significance, some of which are so powerful they follow us throughout our whole lives. It's normal to have a shadow but how dark do we need to let that shadow become? Voids can start from birth causing some kids in trauma to have this tremendous feeling of uselessness tracking their every move. How are kids supposed to define their void, if voiding is all they know?

My voids are everywhere and from every part of my life. It's crazy to think that time in 7th grade, when all the popular girls on the volleyball team dismissed me from their team, like legit had a team meeting with the coach, right in front of me, to say they didn't want me on their team and wanted other [popular girl] because I wasn’t a good teammate. I remember that day so clearly; the moment, getting home and my mom sensing something was wrong but I wouldn't tell her what, going to bed and crying myself to sleep. I was humiliated, shamed, felt ugly, fat and every other negative thought that my mind could gather. And I believed all of those things with unfailing certainty. As an adult, who is trained in trauma, I can see the ways memories like this have followed me all the way here to my late 30's. Even the little things like sports team drama can have an enormous impact on a kids life. Imagine those snotty teens being your abusive parents.

My whole life I've struggled with belonging, or the feeling of. Now, are the 7th grade girls responsible for all of that? Of course not, but it is instances like this that build upon one another. After time they seep into our being, block our internal self-worth and fighting brain power. You may remember from my post about Family where my youngest talked about longing for a dad. Growing up my mom was a single mom until I was 10 (my youngest's current age). My DNA dad was here and there and was always struggling with some kind of addiction; alcohol, smoking or gambling. I've never known my DNA dad without one or all of these vices in his life. I remember in elementary school being in a 'kids with divorced parents' group, there were only 4 of us; that’s how uncommon it was then. Kids with normal families used to tease me, tell me I didn't have a dad because he didn't love us. Tease me that my 4th grade teacher (whose name was Mr. Erickson) was the best dad I would ever have. Kids are dicks. That part hasn't changed, in fact I think they've gotten worse with social media. Anyway, I would meet once a week with these other divorced kids and we would draw out or talk about what it was like being in a divorced family. That part was OK - it was good for processing, but it never occurred to any adult that bullying was taking place. It hurt. It filled me with a resounding sense of worthlessness. Once I got into junior high, divorce was more common but I always hated it when kids would inquire about my family life. Even as an adult, the thought of having to explain my family is exhausting.

I chase after this love. This ache that fills my body in a way no other does. Yes, I am a late-thirties something with prevalent male issues which have stemmed from that lack of a dad role model in my early childhood. I remember every man my mom dated. I remember longing, the same way my youngest human does, for them to love me, to hold me in their arms the way dad's are supposed to do and make all the worries go away. Those worries have yet to dissipate and when I hear my humans talk about relationships with their parents I just want to hold onto them so tight. Tell them it's not their fault and how beautiful they really are. I can only hope that through their time in my home they learn how to process these feelings now, instead of when they're old like me (they always laugh at that).

Recently, I confessed to a man that I wanted to be his partner. He had been stringing me along for years, knowing just when to pull me back in when I would start to create distance. It's like I know somewhere inside that I deserve better and talk myself up to moving on. Then, for some reason, this charming, handsome man can pull me back in. I am a fixer, when people are in need I can heal them or at least help sooth their pain. I can do all of this with nothing in return, who wouldn't want to keep me around? I decided enough was enough after months of processing him with my therapist. She asked me "What is it about him that makes you want to make it work?" My response was "He encompasses everything I have hated throughout my life." My draw to this damaged soul in hopes that if I could help him through his alcoholism, life skills and sociopathic ways, if I could make this man who makes me feel without feeling A damn thing in return work, maybe all of those things I failed at will feel better. Maybe my DNA dad not wanting me will feel better. Maybe the other addicts, liars and abusers (I include myself in those categories too) in my life I couldn't save will forgive me for failing them. Maybe I will finally feel love and feel better. It just came out, and I didn't really understand what I had actually said. Then, my mouth dropped and I started to cry. There it was, my epiphany, the answer to all of my adult relationships. I can't fix my past through others. I can only fix my past through myself. I can't continue to fill that void with people that will only make me feel more empty. Funny thing is that I’ve been telling this to others for years and I never once heard those words come out of my mouth. What’s more painful is I wonder if he will miss me as much as I will miss him. What an odd thing to wonder about from someone who has given me such shame. And even still, I will miss him dearly but I know it’s time to say goodbye.

The tragedy of voids is that they are often hard to identify and once we do it feels like we are too late. How do we recover from this large absence in our souls that we assumed was just normal loneliness, this whole time? How do we learn to process these voids, particularly when we are in the thick of one?

I don't want my humans to carry their voids with them the way I have. I don't want their souls to be dragged down and stomped on over and over. Because once we have that one little inclination of negativity, the void train latches on and it gets longer, heavier and louder. I want my humans to know that they are loved, that life is not their fault, that it’s OK to feel sad, it's OK to be confused, it's OK to feel relief even when the release is hard. It's OK to tell someone how they are feeling.

It has been a therapy for me in its own way by sharing my stories and feelings with these humans. It also helps bring me down to their level, their hurt and pain. I want their voids to be recognized, felt, processed and put them on the path to healing so they can have full, appropriate, functioning, healthy adult lives. They get to have that peace of mind. After a lot of therapy I realize, I get to have that too. I'm a little behind the ball but I continue to take off more train cars day by day and send them on a different track. Living with voids is really hard and can be a lonely place. Finding our self-worth is difficult and we all have pieces of our past that stick to us and won't shake off. These kids need to know that their worth is not based on those who have left them but on how they love themselves through that loss. We get to love ourselves and leave those who have left us. We get to say goodbye to those burdens. We get to heal those wounds by learning to love those voids that have made us who we are.