A sudden illness in January 1988 put Janice M. Weinheimer to bed for the next five months, forever altering the course of her life. "My past was gone," she says, "and I would never again be who I had been." Flashbacks of sexual abuse, which shook her to her core, eventually followed after months and years of trying in vain to regain her health. At that point, nothing felt safe. All inner security had vanished.
Doctors could find nothing wrong with her. Undaunted, she turned to seminars, alternative healing modalities, tapes, and the Internet, making new friends who served as guides along the way. But it would take years of intense soul-searching and strenuous impact training--which she describes as "the most arduous work I would ever encounter"--before she began to see some light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Her "false self" had to be crushed--totally, utterly--before she could find her way to the "inner me that had been waiting a lifetime to find freedom."
The Illness That Healed Me tells the compelling story of a brave woman's daunting quest to purge herself of all-consuming demons. In the process, she surrenders to her Higher Power...and her heart's desires pour forth.
A sudden illness in January 1988 (no equilibrium, total dizziness and nausea) put me to bed for the next five months and forever altered the course of my life.My past was gone, and I would never again be who I had beenFlashbacks of sexual abuse followed after months and a couple of years working at trying to heal and being healthy and whole again.These flashbacks shook the false identity I had worked a lifetime to create.I no longer knew who I was.Nothing felt safe.My security was gone.My false self had to be crushed in order for me to find my way once again. This was part of the healing – to let go of the past so I could discover who I was.My health was gone.I had to find my own way to heal as doctors and modern technology could find nothing wrong with me.Libraries, seminars, alternative healing modalities, tapes, Internet, new friends, and meditation propelled me into new way of being.I found new friends who served as guides.It was a troubled time, and I tripped and fell down several times trying to climb up a very rocky, steep incline.It would take years of intense seeking, soul-searching, and investigating before I began to see a glimmer of light at the end of a very long tunnel.In the midst of all of this chaos, I was propelled into some impact training.It was some of the most arduous work I would encounter.It wounded and tormented me.The head trainer was relentless in causing the false exterior to break down and give way to the inner me who had been waiting a lifetime to find freedom.He won, but it cost me dearly.I died a thousand deaths while my false identity and ego were shattered.It took years for the real me to find her way to the surface.Along the way, I learned volumes of healing ways.I became acquainted with myriads of souls who had discovered uncommon ways to become whole. I was led from one book to another, from one lecturer to another, from one guide to another.It is in hindsight that I can see all the blessings, all the angels who crossed my path, and a Higher Power who was in control of my destiny.I learned to surrender.And in that surrendering, my heart’s desires poured forth.My path didn’t have a finish line.It is one that I continue to trod and from which I continue to learn.I discovered healing is a journey rather than an experience.
Excerpt
I began to get a glimpse of what living in the fast lane had done to my body. I thought I could go on forever pushing to the limits of exhaustion before I heard the screaming of my body for rest and respite. I hated it when my body wouldn't allow me to do all that my mind was determined to do. I never once stopped to tune into why I had this innate push and drive. I was so intent on doing and achieving, I never realized there was another--and perhaps higher way--of being. I was driven--always had been. I knew no other way....
Toxic shame is when you feel flawed and worthless as a person. With me, it became my entire identity. No matter how much I tried to be perfect to override this inner feeling, nothing ever removed it. That was just who I was. I instinctively knew that I would never measure up to others no matter what I did and no matter what I achieved. It was so terrible that I created an entire other personality based on perfectionism and buried my true self. Even I didn’t realize I wasn’t this false identity. What I was, was an illusion, and I played the part so well that the true part of me remained hidden and buried. I couldn’t deal with the intense feelings of inferiority, and so I lived my life on the surface as an intense achiever. Each achievement gave me an emotional high that lasted such a short while that I quickly had to have another “fix” in order to exist. Living such a lie drained me physically and emotionally. The saddest thing is that I had no idea I was doing it at the time. It is only in hindsight that I realize the false identity I had created because—to put it simply—I could not love myself. Because of the abuse, I divorced the child from being a part of me. Even in therapy, I often referred to that part of me as “she” and Kent would ask: “And who is she?” Only then would I realize that “she” was I. I couldn’t accept her because I felt she was bad...
It’s so sad that in our society we place so much emphasis on outer appearance instead of what’s on the inside. We are so geared to having a model image that young girls starve themselves or throw up to achieve the image. We use breast implants, dye our hair, have plastic surgery, liposuction, bleach our teeth, and even have permanent makeup to enhance our outer shells so we feel acceptable. All of this to carry on the false illusions and images we have created. We live in fear and judgment, never trusting enough to simply just be who we are. In the impact training my husband and I took, one of the trainers said that he didn’t need others’ others’ approval because he approved of himself. At first I thought he was a bit egotistical, but I soon came to be almost envious of his outlook. I wished I, too, could just simply approve of myself no matter what anyone else thought. That is healing, when we truly know who we are on the inside with no veneer and we can still approve of ourselves. . .Sexual abuse destroys our feelings of self-worth. It sets the stage well for creating a false self-image—an illusionary self that we can hide behind. It is an illusion that assists us in feeling safer—but at such a great cost.
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Reviews for "The Illness That Healed Me - surviving sexual abuse and healing journey"
A great read. One woman's journey from childhood incest, a controlling male dominated religion and no way to feel,to a place of healing where Janice Weinheimer finds her own voice.
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