Being Emily Dickinson

Dear Dr. Slater:

I received your voicemail inquiring as to my current mental state. I really appreciated your followup and wanted to fill you in on my progress. As you may remember from our sessions, I expressed some long-standing self-esteem issues due to the trauma that occurred in my childhood. Perhaps 'trauma' is a strong word. I had a lot of wonderful things in my life, after all: loving parents, protective brothers, wide open fields, endless woods, movies, music, and books. And, I had that imagination. The things I became attached to were the things that could take me away from Reality. I didn't want to understand who I was or like who I was.

The first thing I remember in this life was lying in a hospital in the ICU with what seemed like a million tubes in me. A nurse in white stood over me taking my pulse. I've managed to block out a lot of the memories, I think, because no one wants to remember constantly passing out from headaches, throwing up, and having surgery after surgery. I looked at those scars on my body as a brand: Freak. I wasn't a freak, at all, but I felt like one. When people have to always ask you, "What happened to you?" you start to become self-conscious.

So I went through this world with a skewed view of things. There were two things at work: I believed that my body was my enemy, and I had gotten my mind in an unhealthy pattern. You know all about those patterns, Dr. Slater. It was you that taught me that the wiring in my head was just stuck, and could easily be un-stuck. It was never a 'bad' thing. Other people have never hurt me. Never! I have only hurt myself. I didn't use knives or anything; I'm not Angelina Jolie (although I wish I was about right now! I'd have Brad's babies in a heartbeat.). But I used a far worse weapon: myself. Because of those stuck patterns in my head, I convinced myself that I was fat (I wasn't, if pictures are to be believed), Freakish (I was actually very normal and generally liked by all), and hideously scarred.

But you told me something that I have finally come to believe. You said, "You're not that sick little kid anymore. You're a grown woman, and you're lovely." And you know what? I looked in the mirror as I got out of the shower (calm down, boys; this is not an erotic moment!) and do you know what I saw? I saw three small scars on my stomach. But they're not hideous. And they do not make me a freak. They're just a part of who I am, and a part of my past.

It'll be 20 years on July 18, 2006, since my last operation. I'm not counting my gall bladder surgery a few years ago, since that was a piece of cake compared to the ones I had as a kid. There are side effects from THAT surgery that haunt me to this day, too. But I'm not worried about it. Because you know what? God wired me a certain way, and He likes me just the way that I am. The only scars we carry with us are the ones we allow to be there. I know there are people who've been through much worse than I ever have. There are cruelties I can't begin to understand in this world. But no matter what, the most pain any human ever felt was what Jesus felt, as he sacrificed himself for us all. So that we can be cleansed of any negatives, one day. I've found that if we can connect with Him, and with our own spirit, we'll be okay, no matter what happens to us. And we're not Freaks, not any of us.

Those patterns we talked about? They're still rattling around in my head, because they're a part of me. They won't ever be totally gone, until I no longer have a physical body. But thanks to you, Dr. Slater, I know how to deal with them. I know how to recognize the patterns and what to do to help correct them. It's truly a double-edged sword: I was given an incredible memory, and quite an ability to use words to express anything my heart desires. And I have a great eye for detail, and I'm very passionate. But there are times when I get so many repeating thoughts in my head, I feel like I am losing my mind. And there's a line, one that I've crossed before and I will never cross again. I was looking for peace in other people, when I needed to find peace within myself.

So how am I doing these days? I'm doing great. I actually love myself, for the first time in 32 years. I'm actually very happy with who I am, how I look, and the directions my life has led me in. So Thank You, Dr. Slater, for your help. You helped me to save my own life. I wrote this poem years ago, when I was hopeful of being healed. I was quite the prophetic one, wasn't I?

I've loved Emily Dickinson ever since Bean sent me Emily's poem, "I'm Nobody."
I consider her to be the greatest poet ever to live.
I admit to emulating her style at times with my own poetry.

Scar

I run my finger along my scar
It is long and makes an impression
I've looked at it many times
I've wondered why it's there
I've often felt thankful
That it was not so deep
That it could not be removed
The impression may be there
but the repression is not
He runs his hand along my scar
'It does not matter to me,' he says
I remember when it was fresh--
burning, searing
Now it's a part of me
Waiting to be told
I was once scared by it--
Now I think I would be scared without it--

Sincerely,
Marty