This is Part 2 of what I think will be a three-part personal foray into the impact of adverse childhood experiences (ACE) on a life, my own.
Oh yes, I was talking about shame in Part 1 of this blog post. From the beginning of time, shame dogged me. My mother’s middle name was Shame, and she felt compelled to disperse it whenever possible. Before long, Shame was my middle name, too. That’s the multigenerational transmission process–from one parent to the next, and so forth and so on, until it trickles down and becomes the next offspring’s middle name. My children have it now. They don’t appreciate their inheritance, because they thought they dodged a bullet by being adopted. Surprise, adoptive parents have baggage, too.
During college and long into my work life, I slept fewer than 5 hours per night. It is still like that for me. No matter what I do–sleeping pills, exercise, eating carbs, not eating carbs, drinking alcohol, never drinking alcohol, eliminating caffeine, doing neurofeedback, watching no TV before bed, watching TV to fall asleep, drinking warm milk, taking melatonin (lots of it), reading boring things, having sex, not having sex, meditating–I rarely sleep more than 4 or 5 hours a night. I am usually exhausted and have decided that scheduling 2-hour naps in my office on a daily basis is self care.
I used to tell people, I am strung together by my stress, while at the same time insisting, I don’t really feel stress. Both seem true. There was a period when I found myself sitting down in front of sidewalk psychics and Tarot Card readers with one question: What can you tell me about me? I like this kind of fake out the faker question (apologies to those of you who are real psychics). I work very hard to give no “tells” when I plop down. I like to prove to myself there is nothing real about this stuff. Oddly, they all told me similar things (which, as a non-believer in all things psychic, I still find uncanny)–Your other lives were about transcending the body. This life is about getting out of your head and back into your body. To that I say, Hell no! My body hurts way too much to live in it.
Stay tuned for Part 3. There is probably a point to this drawn out story. I hope I figure it out by the time I write it. Until then, I’m sticking with the notion that knowing your adverse childhood experiences score can help you.
Look for Part 3 of The Impact of Adverse Childhood Experiences: A Personal Story in the next blog post.
To Be Continued…
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