Survivors' Voices: What I've Learned in Therapy, Part 2
I am, as always, deeply grateful to those who have chosen to share their experiences in this post. If you have experienced sexual abuse in the Catholic Church, I would be honored to include your perspective in future installments of this “Survivors’ Voices” series. You can find more information at An Invitation for Survivors.
Part One of “What I’ve Learned in Therapy” is available here.
In therapy, I learned that it really wasn't my fault. It's one thing to hear the sentence spoken, but it's a different kind of learning to slowly process the individual implications and emotional fallout from being abused. Piece by piece I am (still) understanding how insidious abuse in the Church is. I was trusting, groomed from birth to ignore my intuition and survival instincts; my perpetrator smelled those traits in me like blood in the water. It doesn't matter what my vulnerabilities are, the abuse was and is not my fault. The culpability belongs entirely to my perpetrator.
My first talk-therapy was with a Catholic woman counselor in the mid-90s. I cried and poured out my trauma, and she gave me spiritual direction. It helped some, but I was still full of shame and anger. My most helpful experience with therapy was in 2019, after I discovered the support of SNAP and my religious congregation. I got up the courage to ask the Catholic diocese to pay for therapy, they agreed, and I was able to receive six months of trauma informed therapy. We used Internal Family Systems (IFS, developed by Richard Schwartz) among other modalities, and I healed. It took me a couple years longer to work through all my fears and years of negative habits, but by now I feel so much better - freer, happier, and no longer a slave to the past. The main thing I learned was that I'm not "bad" or fatally flawed, but just human, capable of change and healing. No matter what happened in the past, there is much to be thankful for and it is good to be part of this crazy world.
I only went to a therapist once for help dealing with the aftermath of my abuse, and he wasn't the most helpful. I also tried going to a counselor that worked out of a local parish for free as a ministry. I think she did her best, but she wasn't that helpful either. I honestly don't think she knew what to do with me. I had to stop going when I couldn't find childcare. Most of the healing I've done has been through reading on my own. "Hurting in the Church" by Fr. Thomas Berg was helpful, as was "Interior Freedom" by Fr. Jacques Philippe. There are things I continue to struggle with, and maybe someday I'll have the time and mental energy to search for a good therapist that fits. It's not in the cards right now.
My perpetrator had been exhibiting dangerous boundaries with my kids as well as me. I learned from my therapist that it's very common for a predator to be “doing the mom and the kids at the same time." Protecting children is one more reason to report, even if people have told you you're not a “vulnerable adult" and dismissed you. The preponderance of evidence eventually becomes impossible to ignore.
Years of therapy have provided me with many gifts, including (A) a deep dive into education and insight of how intensely trauma has impacted my mind, my body, and my life, (B) a huge cache of coping skills, and (C) a place to vent when the trauma fallout seems more than I am capable of handling on my own.
The most priceless component of therapy for me has been the realization that I had, unbeknownst to me, a number of inner children completely trapped inside my unconscious mind; they were frozen in time, still experiencing their rapes and other horrors - for them in real time. Their intense fear, shock, shame, anger and a multitude of other (for them) real-time emotions have been creating havoc in my life. They had no clue that they were now safe, and I had no clue how my thoughts and actions had been hijacked by those terrified little children who had been influencing my behavior without my knowledge or consent, for decades. It was only after I was able to get in touch with them, and with my therapist’s assistance, provide them with a safe place to share their secrets, then help them through their stuck trauma, that all of us could begin to find any true healing.
I didn't know how much I needed to hear a professional give me a PTSD diagnosis. That meant that what I had went through was a trauma, really and officially. That validation was so key to my ability to name what I went through and care for myself using real science that meant there was a real, proven path forward. I learned a lot in therapy once I started getting PTSD-specific care, but the first thing I learned was just that it doesn't have to be like this, there is something we can do about it, and there are people whose whole job it is to help me do that.
Thank you for reading. See you next week.
~ Sara
This was a very well expressed post that I sent to a survivor of clergy abuse along with Awake contact. Thank you for the services you provide survivors. It is unique in my experience.