Panic Room

I had a very interesting experience the other day. I had attended a teacher in-service where the speaker spoke of the importance of ritual in the lives of children. These rituals included waking up in the morning with perhaps, a feeling of being wanted and cherished, sitting down to meals as a family, the ability to talk with someone if you had something on your mind, and in the evening, going to bed with, again perhaps, the feeling of being taken care of and knowing that you were safe.

He spoke with such authority, suggesting that since we all had had that in our lives, we must very well be aware of it's significance. Everyone around me nodded assuredly, for they too had had first-hand experience of these rituals: being tucked in at night with a story and a glass of warn milk, a hot nutritious breakfast to start the day with. And here they were, the living proof of stable environments.

I myself had begun to panic, for I was not one of them at all. I was the fraud in the room, masquerading as something I was not. I had had none of those things, and yet here I was. I thought maybe that it showed in some way. I waited for others to point the finger. "She's not one of us!", they would shout. And I would have to agree. I began to sweat, the room became larger. I thought of leaving, but then, I would only draw attention to myself. Everyone would know why.

They continued to nod, I continued to sweat, my eyes darting first to the left, and then the right. I waited. And then it happened.

Nothing.

Nothing happened.

I did not hear the next thirty minutes of the seminar as I was then lost in my own thoughts. Such memories flooded back that I almost felt faint. I am so very different. And then I realized how very ashamed I am of what I have endured in my life. But I also realized, that I was only a child with no control of the situations that befell me. I could only go with the flow such as it was.

By the end of the in-service, I was numb and exhausted. I wanted to tell the presenter how deeply he had touched me, how deeply I understood what he had to say. But I didn't have the energy, and what difference did it make anyway. But I knew something the others did not. I had survived the unimaginable. I truly did.



Still here.



Andi