# One Of My Childhood Repressed Traumas

I became a psychotherapist in 1984. I have been asked this question many times,  “do you think therapists went into the field to heal their traumas”? My answer until 1996 was that I didn’t know the answer. After 1996 my answer to that question has been, “in my case I know that is true for me, but I’m not sure about other therapists”.

Many people do not believe “repressed traumatic memories” are real. In a two year period I have had two traumas showed up after being repressed for more than thirty years. Both traumatic  memories were triggered by something happening that reminded my subconscious of a similar experience and it then became conscious to me. Both times I thought it impossible these traumatic events had happened. I was wrong!

The first time was in 1996. My sixteen  year old son and I were in a theater watching the John Grisham movie , “A Time to Kill”. In the very beginning of the movie a young black girl was being raped and I went into psychological shock. We left the theater!  I found myself outside of my body and sobbing uncontrollable for over two hours. Fortunately for me, I had been trading therapy with a very skilled therapist and I was able to do a phone “Clean Language” therapy session with her.

In my memory I had been sexually molested once by my grandfather when I was between three and four years old. The most traumatic moment was when he told me, “if you tell anyone what I did, I will kill your mother”!

For weeks after the therapy session I was in denial. Then I started realizing that my grandfather’s behaviors probably caused my father’s alcohol abuse and his rages. I also realized that at least two of his three sisters were prescription drug abusers. My grandfather was also a proud member of the KKK.

Four years ago I went on the internet site, “23andMe” to get my DNA test results. I found a 2nd cousin on the site that had been unknown to me. Her grandfather was raised by my grandparents from ages one to twelve. He was my grandmother’s younger brother by twenty years. He told my cousin’s father that he had been sexually abused by my grandfather.

He ran away when he was twelve year old after he was tied to a tree and bull whipped by my grandfather. He never returned and years later he became an alcohol abuser. He died of a heart attack  at age 42. It was if he never existed. My father nor any members of his family ever mentioned him. It was a family secret until this post.

My grandfather died when I was ten years old and when I learned of his death, I remembered feeling relieved. I didn’t understand why until I was fifty-one years old.

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