So, last week at therapy, MT started talking about physically working out some of my feelings. I throw pillows in her office, but she said her office wasn’t big enough and I wasn’t using enough energy for that to be enough. You see, I have lots of body memories. Things put where they shouldn’t be, the feeling of gross stuff dripping down my face, my body hurting in the places where I was held down. I tend to sit on my hands or hold them behind my back, reminiscent of being tied up. I shake a lot. I thought it was fear coming out. She thinks it’s the rage and body memories that I hold back. My body tries to throw up all of the stuff that happened. So, MT started talking about going to a karate studio that she has access to and working out some of these feelings. Well. my mind first went to the thoughts that no way, no how was I going to move my body in those ways in front of somebody. I weigh 300 pounds. (oh, Holy Crap, I forgot I let some people I know read this blog. For God sakes, please do not ever comment on that number to me). I am not graceful. I was always the last kid picked in gym class. I never wanted to move my body, not even when I was a skinny kid, and have somebody watch it and comment on it. But then, I realized, if I protested, I would have to talk about all of those reasons with her. And I did not want to do that. It was bad enough that she had asked me how much I weighed in the last session and I was crazy enough to answer her! I did not want to discuss anymore body issues with her. So I agreed to meet MT at this karate studio. She told me to bring pillows, a plastic bat, balls. I brought a blanket, kind of like a little kid needing some security. Well, I threw the pillows, I threw the balls. That was okay. Then MT pulled out the magic Wavemaster (see the picture above). She told me to hit it with the plastic baseball bat. I did, again and again. I could feel the rage growing in me. I started screaming. Then I could feel the hands and the fingers digging under the bones in my shoulders. I screamed in pain. MT said not to let them win. I beat that Wavemaster silly. I beat all of its senses out of it. I screamed at them to get their hands off her. The bat started to get flimsy in the handle. I screamed more. I cried. I almost couldn’t stand up. I beat the Hell out of that Wavemaster. I felt the bands of oppression around me start popping like Gulliver’s Lilliputian ropes. I walked away, panting, sweating, drained. I walked away as a VICTOR, no longer a victim.