by Rob Tonkin, author of People I hate: Memoirs
At the suggestion of the therapist at the time, I began writing to find catharsis. I brought the page I wrote to our session. It detailed the wounds, stories of the past, and even dreams that evoked strong emotional responses. This writing was the basis for a highly effective EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) session. For those new to it, EMDR is a treatment that helps brain processes, integrates traumatic memories, and reduces emotional impact. This process involves focusing on traumatic memory while engaging in bilateral stimuli such as eye movement and tapping.
There was a time when therapy made me feel like a hopeless case of losing me. In many cases, I felt deeply shamed and responsible, even for having nothing to do with me. My doctor consistently suggested that I be part of a 12-stage group, but I balked this idea. “They’re for people who have real problems,” I think, sticking to misguided advantages. I heard a cult-like practice, whispers about swapping one addiction for another, and the whole concept scared me. I was afraid of what I might think was hiding in the shadows of my mind.
It took three and a half years of stubborn resistance before I could finally relent during a period of intense personal confusion. That’s when I discovered a fellowship that was founded in 1978. My childhood was falling apart the same year. The program is based on 12 steps and the principles of its tradition. Many members come from other 12-level groups and appreciate the program’s deeper delving into healing emotional wounds that cause unwanted behavior by providing tools for a better life. It holds over 2,750 meetings around the world.
Today, our society has millions of unconscious “adult children.” By providing a platform for individuals to share their experiences growing up in abusive, neglecting, or traumatic environments, the program acknowledges the profound impact these experiences have on our lives. During my recovery, I stood up to the pain of my childhood, honestly reflecting on myself and my family, and found a nurturing environment to deal with and heal from deep root trauma. The program promises relief from shame and abandonment, and leads individuals to become caring caregivers for themselves. This is the process I understand now to compensate my inner child. It is a purposeful practice that provides myself with the healthy emotional care, attention, nurture, safety, support, structure and love that I lacked in my childhood.
Despite my initial resistance, after attending meetings for two years and completing all 12 steps, I realized positive changes in my life and found great value in this community. This fellowship is the cornerstone of my healing journey and I am happy to recommend it to anyone looking for healing. However, words of caution – a rewarding recovery requires time, patience and dedication. In other words, you need “painful shit work!”
One of my biggest victories on the path to healing is that it makes it easier to accept the truth. If automatic thoughts come to my mind, such as “I shouldn’t have spoken that way” or “Rob, you seem to always stir up trouble!”, I can now recognize them as the figure of a critical parent or the inner voice of an upset child. This awareness allows me to change my inner dialogue and deal with myself and with compassion and understanding, a boy who lacks attention, safety, love and support.
Other improvements include the ability to stop blaming yourself and others. This sounds simple, but achieving it continues to be a fight. Controlling the situation to get what I unconsciously wanted – was a standard way of doing things and keeping myself safe. I always kept my eye on the future, prepared, and planned every possible way to avoid falls. But now I’m choosing to let go, take the waterfall and have me save where it is possible. I also came to believe that all the answers to my questions are within me. When I calm my mind, I can hear them.
I’ve been dancing since I was 10 years old with alcohol, cocaine and marijuana addiction. At 57 years old, I decided to stop using drugs and alcohol and clarify. Marijuana in particular has become a crutch for me. I used it to feel normal in everyday situations like work or client meetings. I now realize how ridiculous this is. Like everyone else in society, I am conditioned to seek prompt revision. Take this medicine, smoke it, drink it, put it in your nose. I stopped in 2019. I realized there is no quick path to getting healthy.
Ultimately, I realized the importance of lasting difficulties. It reminded me that life isn’t necessarily meant to be perfect. How I get high and deal with low values plays an important role in my well-being. While embracing positiveness is valuable, simply focusing on “only a good atmosphere” can lead you to a spiritual bypass of the true essence of life. I accepted the drinking while quitting my cold turkey after a life of substance use and an occasional abuse rampage. I was obsessive and workaholic, but I didn’t consider myself an addict or an alcoholic. Anyway, I’m proud that I have no urge to rejoin any of those acts.
Rather than avoiding the wounds, I leaned against them. This journey of recovery and self-discovery is something I will explain in more detail in my book. People I hate: Memoirs. In it, I shared the ways I had to bury myself in the work, delve into myself, and detailed the life-changing steps that promote my transformation. Anyone who wants to know more about the programs I discussed can go to the help desk on my website, www.robtonkin.com/help-deskand you’ll be guided by more information.
Source: Spiritual Media Blog – www.spiritualmediablog.com
