Hello - My Name is Teresa Morin

The flashes of unwelcome memories shocked my system, and I would go into a full-blown panic attack with feelings numbing or tingling on my face, hands, arms, feet, and legs. Or sometimes, I feel like a zombie. Some days, I stay in bed curled up under my sheets, overwhelmed by emotion. I did not want to accept these memories of events. I tried to deny their happening.

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I was shocked beyond my belief. I felt angry, sad, confused, and depressed. “Is this the devil, or is this God,” I said. Why is this happening to me 40 years later?” What got me was the feeling of shame attached to the memory, along with feeling gross, defiled, and unclean. This intrusive bombardment of memories was like a video camera that kept replaying, and I could not control or stop it.

 

This is my story of brokenness, hope, and freedom!

When I was a baby, my brother was jealous of me. I am the only girl on my mom’s side of the family. I stole my brother’s fame and glory—he was the funny one—the family clown. But after my birth, all the attention went to me and away from him.

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He didn’t like me too much. It probably started when I was a baby, but he would pinch, hit, kick me, and do other things. Later, push me down, and I would fall on something and have to get stitches. Eventually, I shut down. The doctors diagnosed me with setbacks mentally and hyperactivity. I was, really, in a fight-to-flight mode – like the Robinsons.  “Danger, Will Robinson, danger!” uttered the robot in my subconscious.

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When I was around three, the doctors recommended this clinic to work with me. I went three times a week for half a day. I knew something was wrong as an adult since I only remember my first and last days there. I didn’t remember anything between the two years.

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The memory that invaded my mind as flashbacks was the doctor sexually abusing me with other children. They filmed the sexual abuse and sold them for the occult. I was being groomed for human trafficking. Since he drugged me with an excellent aid, it kept me from remembering what they did to me. Also, the memory of my brother sexually abusing me. 

I felt feelings of intense guilt and shame; I felt defiled and unclean. Could God accept me?

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I never knew when these vivid flashback pictures would take place. I could be at home, with friends, work, or shopping. One day at work, my boss gave me a project. I was the team captain and had to come up with a plan. It took some decision-making to implement the project.

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MY PAIN WAS MORE THAN I COULD TAKE

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I was vacillating back and forth, wondering what would happen if I made the wrong decision, overthought, or felt insecure. I felt anxious and wanted to crawl under my desk to curl up. I felt numb like my body was shutting down. I had never felt that unsure before.

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I also felt the heavyweight of depression loom over me like a dark cloud over my emotions. I’d have constant pain in my chest and tense shoulders. My heart would start pounding, with shortness of breath or pressure in the chest during periods of anxiety, including sweating and shaking, and then I was a sobbing wreck. These anxiety episodes left me feeling weak. The emotional pain was more I could bear.

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At home, I would say, “Why, Lord, why is this happening to me.” Why are you abandoning me?” I felt alone from God and isolated myself from my friends because of the deep shame that gripped my soul. Can you relate?

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I felt visible to everyone. I was afraid everyone would see my shame and sin! I felt guilty! I could not tell my mom or anyone what had happened to me. It was my secret. I didn’t think she would believe me. Plus, it would break her heart if she did know.

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What happened at the clinic was not the only memory. I also had flashbacks of my dad choking my mom during the same time. My dad was a tormented soul. He was scary to me, and I felt rejected by him. He never validated or seemed to care. What was important to him was money - it was his God. I felt like my competition with him was the green stuff. He was never home. When he was, he didn’t want us disturbing him. Otherwise, he would go off like a crazy man throwing things. Sometimes, duck to avoid the hit.

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How was I supposed to manage these memories? What do I do? It ruins my life, career, relationship with God, and people, including my sleep.

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My emotions were off the Richter scale. I felt overwhelmed, sad, scattered, depressed, and even scared of my memories.

I had to work but started missing many days. I couldn’t tell my supervisor why this happened because of my deep shame. The walls seemed to close in, and everything got magnified. My body started falling apart because of the lack of sleep and stress: headaches, restless leg syndrome, depression, body aches, and more. Can you relate?

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Around 2002, I visited the doctor about my insomnia and anxiety. He put me on medication, which only increased my anxiety attacks. Then, he sent me to a sleep specialist. After the sleep test, he recommended a psychiatrist. They said when I did sleep, I would flip in the air, and that’s why every morning, my mattress moved at least a foot, and the bed covers were all twisted up in one big knot.

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I did talk about therapy, medication, or lifestyle changes. I still suffered from feelings of emotional pain, anxiety, and insomnia.

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I tried other things. I did the supplements, the biofeedback, the passive meditation, yoga, etc.  How could I quiet my mind for meditation? The memories would intrude like uninvited guests that were too much to bear. I was losing hope. I thought about suicide but would not entertain the thoughts. I cried out to God for help out of desperation. My heart was truly broken! 

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