11 year old me witnessed the very painful, pointless, traumatic and entirely unnecessary death of a soldier. I've been working on this story this week. I've given my therapist (TIR therapy facilitator) the blog name of Sam. He is a Falklands veteran was awarded the South Atlantic Medal. Therefore he is Sam. The relationship between therapist and client is a very narrow one but is one of great trust and total judgment free honesty. It, of course, takes some time for that trust to grow and for the client to learn that it is a safe place to be totally open and honest. I was reassured by Sam's lack of reaction as I told him this week's story. I explained the details of the death of the soldier, he just sat and listened. I didn't need him to cringe or be moved. That would validate my stuck position. I just needed a safe place to tell the whole of my story. I've had enough people confirming my limiting belief that my war stories are too painful to talk about. If I face my fears, I will be fearless. After telling my story over and over again until the pain was gone, Sam took me through a conversation with the soldier who died. Not a spiritual experience but rather sorting out the unfinished business of the conversation that we had not been able to have. I spoke ‘directly’ to the soldier, let's call him Daniel, as if he were actually there, sitting in the room. After some initial reluctance, ok total avoidance, I really connected with the idea that he could hear me and I could say the things I so needed to say. I told Daniel that I had seen and regretted his death. I felt so sorry for his family, and felt guilty that I had witnessed it and couldn’t do anything anything to stop his death from happening. We acknowledged that we were both caught in the middle of a situation that we were powerless to change. We were both victims of terrible circumstances while doing our jobs. He the soldier and me the 11 year old girl. As I talked with Daniel my emotions flowed. I was surprised at the strength of my anger towards him followed by the depth of my sorrow for his mum and family. If that wasn't powerful enough, what followed totally blew my mind. Daniel and I went through a forgiveness journey. It was a truly special time that I almost couldn't believe was happening. I forgave Daniel for dying in front of me. For the pain and shock that I felt. Forgave the other soldiers involved for their negligence. Asked for forgiveness for my anger and judgement. Forgave myself. That was a heavy session. A freeing session and I'm so very glad we went there. In facing my fears I become fearless.
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