In Annie Roger's second book, "The Unsayable: The Hidden Language of Trauma" she writes:
"In 1982 and 1983 we were at the very beginning of understanding that sexual abuse, far from rare, was a pervasive experience. People believed that it was going to be enough to remember abuse, to tell a story and have it witnessed. But it was clear to me even then that telling a story was not enough for Jamie to expel the terror from her body. Her terror remained."
"I saw that what is so terrible about trauma is not abuse itself, no matter the brutality of treatment, but the way terror marks the body and then becomes invisible and inarticulate. This was the case even when someone could tell a story or reconstruct a memory. There was always something unsayable, too. In my early work with Jamie I saw that whatever was terrifyingly present in her body, yet unsayable, took a coded, symbolic form in her art, her speech, and her actions."
"Trauma is a letter written on the body in vanishing ink, a character of the alphabet that seems to stand alone as it emerges into view. As on letter collects other letters, a message emerges that demands to be read, to be known. I saw that this message quite often entwined the actuality of trauma with unconscious ideas and fantasies."
"The unconscious, with its own quirky associative logic, insists on knowing the truth, even if the truth is a shocking and costly retrospective that crosses generations."
"Trauma is so much like tipping a globe and watching the snow descend on the same scene in the same way. Whatever is unresolved and unsayable repeats."
"The unconscious insists, repeats, and practically breaks down the door, to be heard. The only way to hear it, to invite it into the room, is to stop imposing something over it--mostly in the form of your own ideas--and instead listen for the unsayable, which is everywhere, in speech, in enactments, in dreams, and in the body."
I am a walking instrument for her words. I have tried in numerous ways to "expel the terror from the body". It has been a long and arduous process. Yoga, meditation, writing and art have been the most beneficial.
It would seem to be an easy task to do this and as one friend ignorantly commented, "why don't you just get over it?" Its a valid question and he has a point. I would have a long time ago if it was that easy. As though it was a bug that landed on my shoulder and one flick of the finger--gone. Or just ate a couple of wafers and had it blessed away. However, its just not that easy. This trauma was lodged deep into the subconscious of my mind and body.
I wonder if they tell cancer patients the same thing.
My body does feel lighter on some days. This moving "dragon" of sorts is low on fire and I feel better. It has also made me much more compassionate and kind to people of a lessor God.
I also recognize that my "story" of my life does not match the Reality it has been. The files have mostly flipped and I can now sit with it all. Its easier to live life this way. And it keeps me in Reality with no story of it being otherwise.