Alice Miller, child abuse and mistreatment

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From Luminous Child again
Sunday November 12, 2006

Dear Alice,

I wrote you for the first time last month and was so grateful for your response. One of the things I have been plunged into since I last wrote was the facing of my rage and hatred of my parents. I have just finished reading The Body Never Lies, and it is very, very, helpful.

I want to tell you something. See, for the past 25 years when anyone who has even known just some of my history of abuse, they have always asked me "Where is your anger?" I honestly would reply, "I have no anger, no rage, all my pain is sadness and fear." I truly believed that was the truth. I did not know. But last week, after having a series of horrendous panic attacks and near mania, I had the experience of literally hearing something inside my mind, my soul, my brain crack. The cracking sound was thunderous and I had what I would describe as a psychic and emotional seizure. And my body gave out. My legs were rubber and I could barely stand. I laid in bed for 24 hours shaking and sobbing. I kept hearing the question in my mind "Where is your rage?" and I had the feeling this was it, trying to come out, after all these years.

I went to see my Enlightened Witness and though I don't remember most of the session, I remember that he suggested to me at the end that maybe it was time to start writing a letter to each of my parents and do it unedited, unfiltered, and let it pour out. Letters that I don't intend to send (my dad is dead), but that I will say what I could not say when I was so small and under his threats and domination and torture.

The next mornig I woke up and I have not stop writing since! Pages and pages and pages of telling him how much I hate him and describing exactly what I hate him for. Detail by detail. It is pouring out of me like black gall. I want to say that it is totally freeing for me, but I know the freedom will come later. One of the most painful things for me right now is that I cannot feel the horror of what I am writing. I am standing a bit at a distance while it comes out my fingertips onto the keyboard, and I know it is all true. It is my story, my rage. But I only have flickers of sensations about it, since the seizure and the cracking.

I have painted hundreds of paintings of what was done and they tell a very important part of the story, But now to articulate in detail, and break my silence with words is a whole new stage for me.I am breaking rules that I have kept at any cost...all the rules of a dysfunctional family...all the rules of my Church, by unleashing this hatred. And I am both relieved and afraid. And this weekend I feel entirely alone. A piercing aloneness. Your books console and encourage me. Grazie Mille.

You may print this, if you want. LC

AM: Isn't it wonderful that you were able to meet yourself, the real you, the angry child that has waited for so long to be heard and understood? Now your adult self came into the prison of this child and said: "You are safe, you can talk to me, you have plenty of reasons to be enraged, I will listen to them and protect you so that never anything like that can happen to you again. You have survived a hell and you need to tell me how you feel, the words are coming now, what a relief!!! If you stay silent these feelings of hate may poison you but not when you are talking and sharing them with me."
I congratulate you to your success. It is certainly painful to see the truth and to feel the hatred but it is not dangerous, it is liberating. You will see it soon.

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