After holiday recovery

I loved Thanksgiving, yet I seem to be in recovery now.  Yesterday, I didn't do the shopping I needed to do.  I didn't go out and get things done that I needed done.  I realized I am in full retreat.  I am starting to catch up on reading blogs.  Reading other people's blogs inspire me and provoke me to think about things that I some times prefer to keep shut out.  Today, I was reading and enjoying vwoopvwoop's http://vwoopvwoop.wordpress.com/ posts and art.  I miss taking art classes since I have graduated from college.  I miss critiques.  The interesting thing about critiques was the opinion of most of the professors was that it was an opportunity to discuss a piece of work with knowledge and understanding of art.  Rarely were the critiques allowed to be turned into a "put down" session.  The whole thing was if you like it, why do you like it.  If you don't, you better be able to back that up, too.  I also appreciated seeing things from someone else's perspective.  I grew to rely on the feed back to improve what I was doing.  Now that I write it, I realize I like doing the same thing with my blog.  I appreciate the feedback in comments.  Your encouragement is greatly appreciated.

Over at vwoopvwoop a particular piece really set me to thinking:
Repression in Action http://vwoopvwoop.wordpress.com/2011/11/27/repression-in-action/
It is done as a diptych, two pictures together that each could stand alone but their power increases in the pairing.  I wrote a comment that I realized I was restraining myself from writing an entire post in the comment box.  Rather than overload the box I decided to finish the comment here.

Things come with clarity and intensity then the mind covers and obscures that memory. I think your pictures describes that process very well. Thank you for creating a connection that I understand.

It is not often I can find someone that can describe so well a process that I deal with every day.  Repression, (http://psychology.about.com/od/theoriesofpersonality/ss/defensemech_4.htm) the very essence of my survival and the basis of confusion.  One of the choices I made before integration was not to retrieve all my repressed memories.  I waffle back and forth if it was the best choice.  Some times I relish the comment "fuzzy is good."  Other times I am frustrated with how I behave and what is the basis behind my behavior.  I feel frustrated when my behavior seems strange to myself.  Whenever this is happening, there is usually a story behind it that my mind is desperately trying to keep suppressed.  Repressed memories are hotly debated when convictions for offenses occurred and it turned out the recovered memories were false. (Note: Not all recovered memories are untrue.  Some are horrific and hard to believe but still true.  Unfortunately, the abuser uses the victim's own willingness to not want to believe someone in their life would intentionally harm them.)  Misunderstandings occurred between my sister and I when I acted as if nothing bad happened in our childhood.  She hadn't considered the possibility that my mind repressed my past so completely that in my mind nothing bad had happened.  She was astounded when she understood how completely I wiped out my own past.  So why wasn't I delighted or even happy with not remembering.  I should have been able to move forward with my life.  Only it doesn't work that way.  A repressed memory doesn't remove it or process it.  Much like vwoopvwoop's painting the image is painted over.  The memory of the experience is lurking behind the curtain of my subconscious much like the Great Oz.  It influences or even controls my actions and I feel a bit like a marionette dancing to a tune that not even I hear.  Counseling sessions often involve pulling back that curtain.  Often, once exposed to the light of day, I find that the memory no longer has the ferociousness that I once feared.  Occasionally the memory is just as big and ugly as I feared.  Through counseling I work through how I can wrap my mind around it.  Sometimes it is the acceptance that it is in my past.  Sometimes it is the understanding that children are manipulated by cruel adults.  Sometimes I need the opportunity to grieve the incident that caused some form of loss.  Repression sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse.  Thank you vwoopvwoop for creating a painting that describes this process so well.