One Witch Down and Another To Go.

After arriving in Oz, Dorothy discovers that she has unknowingly ended the tyranny of a witch. The cyclone that brought her to Oz, also dropped her house on the Wicked Witch of the East. In effect, she defeated a witch just by showing up! Glenda and the Munchkins make a big deal of this and see her as courageous and powerful…though she doesn’t really feel that way.

But just as she’s adjusting to the idea of defeating the Wicked Witch of the East, another witch arrives in a sulfurous cloud of smoke. It’s the Wicked Witch of the West. The witch immediately tries to rob Dorothy of her ruby slippers. When that fails, the witch leaves in another bilious cloud of smoke leaving the words “I’ll get you my pretty!” ringing in Dorothy’s ears.

When you take your first steps in recovering from sexual abuse, you defeat one “witch”…the witch of denial and avoidance. Your arrival at this place has killed her.

Just like Glenda and the Munchkins, the people who are close to you will celebrate the death of this first witch. You may still be unsure about this so-called victory, but you do feel you have initiated some sort of new era.

Then another fearful and dreadful witch comes on the scene, and this witch is different. At least, with the first witch, you didn’t know she was there, so it didn’t seem as scary. But this new witch is different. This witch is in your face. She cannot take from you the slippers of your courageous initiative, but she will try to intimidate you at every turn.  She will make you feel small, like you are a little girl again. She will fill the skies of your mind with a multitude of dark flying monkey memories.

Though it will be frightening and overwhelming at times, there will be friends to help you along the way. There will be victories. You will progress and grow. Eventually you will conquer this fearful, dreadful witch, and in doing so you will reclaim your life.

Copyright © 2016 Bret Legg

These People are Different!

After the cyclone, Dorothy steps out of her dropped and dilapidated house to encounter the Munchkins, slowly coming out of hiding.

They are not like the people she’s use to. Small in stature, they are warm and winsome. But Dorothy soon discovers the Munchkins are far from naive. They have know their own desperate times, and it is this knowledge, coupled with their warmth, that makes them strangely inviting to Dorothy.

As Dorothy is getting use to the Munchkins, another major character comes on the scene. Glenda, the Good Witch of the South. Glenda may seem a little too good to be true, but she does have a calming effect on Dorothy. She helps Dorothy make sense of what has happened. She also tells Dorothy that to find what she wants, she will need to make a difficult journey. Glenda cannot make the journey for Dorothy, but she can monitor Dorothy’s progress and offer help and guidance along the way.

Admitting that sexual abuse is part of your history can feel like stepping into another world. You begin to encounter people (either randomly or in support groups) who have painful stories like yours. It’s as if they begin to come out of hiding. They understand your fear, your lack of trust, your need for control, and your defensiveness. They are kindred spirits who warmly open up to you…to the point that they can be a little unnerving. They are different.

They’re also different in that they are learning to look at what happened to them without being devastated. They’re learning to master their negativity and experience hope. They are also learning to balance caring for others with caring for themselves. As I said…they are different.

If you’re seriously committed to taking the road out of Oz, you will need another different person in your life. Not a good witch, but a counselor. The idea of seeing a counselor may be scary, or make you feel like you’re more messed up than you want to be. But you will need a counselor to help you make sense of things and guide you through the experience. Your counselor can also be there when you need a little extra help on the journey.

On the road out of Oz, you need these different people. You need people who have been where you’ve been, learned things you haven’t learned, and can support you on your journey out of Oz. You also need a counselor who can help you understand what has happened and help you stay on the road out of Oz.

Not in Kansas Anymore

When the cyclone finishes with Dorothy, it leaves her disheveled and disoriented. Covered with the dust of the old house, Dorothy makes her way to the front door. She grabs the door knob and wonders what she will find on the other side. Will her family be alright? Will there be anything left of the homestead? What about the farmhands?

She slowly opens the door to discover she’s not in Kansas anymore. The cyclone has moved her from the brown, dusty sepia tones of Kansas to the strange and confusing colors of an unfamiliar place. Dorothy stands there on the threshold between two worlds; the world behind her and the world ahead of her.

Verbalizing your past sexual abuse can feel like getting caught up in a cyclone. It’s a dizzying and disorienting experience that can leave you feeling off balance and nauseous.

After you shake off the dust and regain your balance, you wonder if anything will be the same. You realize you have opened the door to to something. You now stand at the threshold between two worlds; one that is dilapidated but familiar, and one that is promising but uncomfortable.

You feel you need to choose between staying in the old run-down house or venturing out into a strange new world, but you really don’t have a choice. The genie’s out of the bottle. The story’s been told and you can’t un-tell it. You know you can’t go back to the way things were. You’ve already crossed a threshold. Now your only viable option is to move forward.

The journey is about to begin.

The Big One Hits

Life on the farm gets progressively harder for Dorothy, as she feels Elmia Gulch breathing down her neck. She starts to run away, only to be reminded by Mr. Marvel that there are some things you just can’t run away from.

Just when she decides to give it another try, she sees it. A twister, dark and ominous on the horizon. She knows there is no way to stop it. All she can do is look for shelter and brace herself.

The twister shakes her, spins her, and  disorients her. She begins to see things that start off benign, but suddenly turn dark and frightening.

As her terror reaches a fevered pitch, suddenly there’s a thud followed by a blanketing silence. Dorothy has survived the twister, but something tells her there’s more uncertainty to come.

As a survivor of sexual abuse, you know internally that something’s not right. Maybe you’ve known that sense of disorder and confusion that mounts and makes you want to run away. Perhaps you’ve tried to run away through work, caring for kids, shopping, religious activity, sex, and many other types of distracting activities.

When running away doesn’t work, you decide to buckle down and make things work. You go back and focus your efforts and energies on behavioral problems and surface level issues. But all you’re doing is learning to walk with a limp, rather than deal with the rock in your shoe. The root cause still remains.

Yet, no matter what you do, the cyclone of your abuse keeps coming. You can feel it growing larger on the horizon, and you know it’s unstoppable.

Then it happens. The story comes out. The feelings rush to the front. Confusion and fear begin to spin you and create images that are familiar and frightening.

But just when it seems unbearable, it stops. Like un-kinking a garden hose, the pressure has been released and there’s a relief you hope will last.

You even tell yourself, “There! I’ve done it! I’ve survived letting the story out. Now, on to better things.” But inside, you know there’s more. You know the journey’s not complete. It’s just begun.

Skipping the Backstory

Did you ever notice how The Wizard of Oz  jumps right into the story. After the opening music fades, we immediately see Dorothy and Toto anxiously running home after an altercation with Almira Gulch.

In other words, the movie skips the backstory.

We don’t know what happened to Dorothy’s parents or why she’s living with her aunt and uncle. We don’t know why Dorothy seems closer to her aunt than her uncle. We don’t know what makes Almira Gulch so mean, or how long she’s been that way.

It’s as if the past has been lopped off and all that seems to matter is the present moment and the present crisis.

This is often true for survivors of sexual abuse. If you’ve been the victim of sexual abuse, you want to fix the current problem or crisis and not delve into the painful backstory. You would rather stay away from those memories and feelings and not open that can of worms.

Some survivors have ignored their backstory for so long it’s hard for them to even remember their backstory.

But the backstory is important. It holds the keys to why you’re feeling what you’re feeling and doing what you’re doing. Your present trajectory is impacted by your past experiences. That’s why a counselor will ask you to review what has happened to you, rather than just helping you “fix” your current problems.

Don’t skip the backstory. If you’re serious about healing, you must be willing to look at the reality of your past. It’s a part of your journey on the road out of Oz.