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I found out my mother committed suicide at 7 a.m. on a Friday. My father came in and woke me up.
“I’m not even awake yet how can I already be in trouble?” was my Pavlovian response. With a pained look on his face, he delivered the news. “Your mother committed suicide.”
The news was less of a shock than you may think. Just a year earlier, during my senior year of high school, she had made her third attempt at taking her life. The previous two were kept secret, committed when I was only a few years old. With her dark secrets now in the light, and a diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder, we knew that another attempt was inevitable, and would most likely be successful.
Maybe you’re thinking: “How can you be so nonchalant about your mother committing suicide?” My family and I tried everything to get my mother help. I sat at her hospital bed every day, begging her to willingly check into treatment. My father remained faithfully married to her until the day she refused therapy.
We did all we could do, and when she refused to help herself, we couldn’t help her any longer. We consulted with various therapists trying to find ways to help her, and each therapist advised us that if she refused treatment, forcing her into treatment wouldn’t help; she had to be willing to get help.
She went her own way, and we had to let her go.
At the time of my mother’s death, we hadn’t spoken for about a year. My mother was extremely verbally, mentally, and physically abuse to me for the first 18 years of my life, unbeknownst to my family. At 18, after her third suicide attempt, I made the decision to move out of my home and end my relationship with my mother.
Even prior to my mother’s death, I had sought help from several therapists to deal with my past. But with every therapist I saw, I became more and more certain that therapy was not for me. I was aware of what my problems were. I was abused and I am damaged from it. No amount of couch sitting and “How do you feel about that” questioning was going to make that any clearer.
After my mom’s death, my issues compounded. Popping anxiety medication was not a suitable long-term plan for dealing with my issues, and I could feel the concerned eyes of family and friends boring into me. I had to find something that worked. The last place I expected to find that was in the office of a spiritual medium.
My dad was the first one to suggest visiting a medium, a bit of a shock to us all considering his ultra-conservative views. I’m not quite sure how he found Anisha, but after just one session with her he was scheduling appointments for the entire family.
As a fan of all things spiritual and alternative, I decided to pay her a visit. I had gone to psychics in the past and got a kick out of their readings; if nothing else, this would at least be entertaining.
I had no idea what to expect going to visit Anisha. Her office, a single room tucked away in a patch of trees, was comprised of a small seating area and a bed that reminded me of a massage table. Statues of angels, beautiful crystals, and soft white linens decorated the room, creating a very zen feeling as I climbed into the little bed.
Anisha began the session by aligning my chakras, the seven spiritual centers in the body. This was designed to clear out the negative baggage -- I had a complete set -- and allow me to positively move forward.
As Anisha was moving through my chakras, holding her hands about six inches over my body, I was shocked at what she was able to pick up. Abandonment issues, terrible childhood, mental scars: she pinpointed all of my issues without even talking to me. This chick was good.
I didn’t know exactly what I was supposed to be feeling, but as she opened and aligned my chakras, I felt a warm, comforting feeling come over me; it felt as if I was letting go all of that past hurt.
Then came the part I was really here for: the mediation. Anisha invited the spirits that wished to engage in the session, and right on cue, she announced that my mother was there. Here we go.
Through Anisha, my mother told me that she loved me so much when I was born. She told me that she was very sick and she held a world of secrets. As I got older, that sickness made it difficult for her to relate to me, to love me the way I deserved. She told me I outsmarted her, even at the age of three, and it made her suspicious of me and intimidated. To deal with that, she put up a wall, and ostracized me from the rest of the family.
She apologized for abusing me, and told me that even though she couldn’t be the mother I needed, she loved me very much.
In the end, she told me she felt completely alone, that she knew no other way out. She was sorry that she did this to our family, and that she wished she could have found a less selfish way to solve her problems; this was the only way she knew.
In all of my years of therapy, I never made more progress than I did in that single session. A large part of my struggle with accepting my past and my mother was being unable to understand why she did what she did. I could not comprehend why or how a mother could ever abuse me all of those years.
After I was able to understand why my mom did what she did, I was able to change my perception of her. Anisha helped me let go of a lifetime of hurt, hatred and confusion, something that I never thought was possible.
Communicating with my mom helped me find compassion for her situation. I can’t imagine battling a mental disease, and holding in so many secrets. She was surrounded by people, but she was constantly alone. Instead of crying from her, I cried for her, and purged all of that toxic, negative energy.
Most importantly though, Anisha helped me learn to love my mom. Through the years of abuse and cruelty, I learned to pull away from my mom and put a high wall between us. I never thought I would be able to tear that wall down.
But being able to see my mom as a human being, with flaws and faults and hurt, rather than my abuser, allowed me to do so. I found love for my mom when I never thought I could. And I’d like to think that love was not only healing for me, but her as well.
Whether or not my mother was actually in that room, my session with Anisha was the single most healing moment of my life. I came out on the other side of my mother’s suicide healed and filled with love for my mother. And I know that would not have been the case without my session with Anisha.