I Am Selfish
I’m called selfish because, after years of being sick from unresolved trauma, I decided to concentrate on my own healing. It took two diagnoses of cancer, high blood pressure, depression and diabetes to kick myself in the butt and take responsibility for my health. Sure, I have lousy DNA but somewhere along the line I convinced myself that I didn’t deserve to be well. It was a myth that developed when I was a child that bad things like sickness happen to bad people. I was bad because I used my energy to do evil childhood things like be competitive. I was also evil because I didn’t follow the family script: children should be seen and not heard. To be angry was to be bad — I was angry a lot growing up.
The most evil thing that I did was to tell a secret. It finally took cancer, at the age of 50, to teach me just how our bodies and minds reflect our inner emotional turmoil. I wanted to live and survive but, in order to do so, I had to reveal my tortured soul. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. There are so few rewards in any cultures for revealing sacred family beliefs. After two near death experiences I finally decided to rid myself of what ailed me the most. I told, no I yelled about the abuse I suffered as a child when I published my book, Never Give Up: Break the Connection Between Stress and Illness.
I decided not to get sick anymore, so I selfishly told the secret. I selfishly revealed how past trauma influenced my health. I selfishly took responsibility for healing a deep wound. And I selfishly revealed this secret to the world. What was I thinking? Nobody else suffers abuse. WRONG! It’s not just our society that refuses to acknowledge that children are abused, but it’s many of the perpetrators, families, and victims themselves. This is because abuse (child and domestic) are ugly revelations. No one wants to hear these stories because they are tragic, because they go against what is good. Fear keeps these secrets hidden until a breakthrough happens, like clergy abuse. Yet, the propensity to keep it quiet is so strong that many people deny that abuse happens — even in our own homes and churches.
Sexual and physical abuse not only affects our health, it also affects our economy. In 2012 in the U.S., it cost $3.8 trillion dollars to help people cope with an event(s) that should’ve never happened. My health care is included in that dollar amount, which makes me selfish. If it’s any consolation, I now have good health and a life filled with extraordinary friends and colleagues. They believe I have the right to fight for my life!
When it comes to your health, do you feel it’s okay to be selfish? Why or why not?
