The Therapy Sessions #9: "The Sons Of The Fall"

As I mentioned in the first post in The Therapy Sessions series, it's hard to describe what it's like to be blindsided by memories of the legacy of childhood trauma while in my 50's.

My second post/song noted that for the next several songs, it's worth noting that the ages of 8, 9 and 10 were the epicenter of trauma.  

My third song looked at how a child can form views of themselves based on trauma and not reality. This song was a loving song to remind Little Me of who I really was.

The fourth song had more to do with navigating that legacy as a man in my 50's. It's been a wild ride, y'all, but I'm getting onto solid ground.

The fifth song was meant to capture a child-like me asking God some sincere questions about why God allows life to unfold the way it does.This song is quiet, contemplative, hopefully capturing some hopeful sorrow.

The sixth song was not quiet.  Part of trauma recovery is being honest about anger and the weight of all that happened, and, well, sometimes the day in front of us gets overwhelming. This song let me vent.

The seventh song was a reminder that it was not my fault, though I have carried that weight for decades, and lived out that legacy by defaulting to carrying the blame for things that go wrong. 

The 8th song, "I Won't Be That Kind Of Man", was about my determination not to pass on the legacy of trauma I endured.

Today's song looks at how hard it is to live in the present sometimes. There is a danger of getting too immersed in the past, as well as being overly discouraged about healing in the future. I hope it's both honest and hopeful.

If your  life experience looks, in some fashion, similar to mine, my heart breaks for you.  If you care to read what I write or listen to the songs I post, may they remind you that you are not alone; that our history is not our destiny; and - to quote Samwise Gangee -  "There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for." 

Version #1: If you like southern rock/metal

Version #2: If you like hip-hop/rap

The Sons Of The Fall

[Chorus] I get too immersed

In the past I rehearse,

But today, I’m concerned

That the future is worse

When I think of tomorrow

I’m undone by sorrow

It’s something I have to give up

The trouble today is enough.

The past has the years

That were filled with the sin

And the memories that sear

Bring the grief back again.

In the past, I recall

All the times, for too long

That the sons of the fall

Did me terrible wrong

[Chorus] 

Today I went back

To things that brought pain

And the people who thought

That my loss was their gain.

Today, I regressed

The legacy was not done,

And those who confessed

Were not honest enough.

[Chorus]

Tomorrow, I fear

it’s too little, too late

I won’t dry up the tears

And my past is my fate.

Tomorrow, I wonder

If true healing awaits

Or will I blindly just lumber

And carry the same old weight.

[Chorus] 

And I stand in between

What I dread and have known

With a heart full of ash

And a soul like a stone

What was and what is, 

Feel like such an abyss

And the cost to be new

Must pay the devil his due.

But I heard there’s a way to cover the cost

If it’s paid blood red, on a cross

[Chorus]

 I get too immersed

In the past I rehearse,

But today, I’m not sure

That the future is worse

Today’s trouble is real

But I can’t let it steal

What the pain would conceal

That God takes it, 

and breaks it, 

and heals.

UP NEXT:  #10 "Do Not Resuscitate"

The Therapy Sessions #8: I Won't Be That Kind Of Man

As I mentioned in the first post in The Therapy Sessions series, it's hard to describe what it's like to be blindsided by memories of the legacy of childhood trauma while in my 50's.

My second post/song noted that for the next several songs, it's worth noting that the ages of 8, 9 and 10 were the epicenter of trauma.  

My third song looked at how a child can form views of themselves based on trauma and not reality. This song was a loving song to remind Little Me of who I really was.

The fourth song had more to do with navigating that legacy as a man in my 50's. It's been a wild ride, y'all, but I'm getting onto solid ground.

The fifth song was meant to capture a child-like me asking God some sincere questions about why God allows life to unfold the way it does.This song is quiet, contemplative, hopefully capturing some hopeful sorrow.

The sixth song was not quiet.  Part of trauma recovery is being honest about anger and the weight of all that happened, and, well, sometimes the day in front of us gets overwhelming. This song let me vent.

The seventh song was a reminder that it was not my fault, though I have carried that weight for decades, and lived out that legacy by defaulting to carrying the blame for things that go wrong. 

Today's song is about how I have not passed on the legacy of trauma I endured. Perhaps the silver lining in the trauma cloud is that I have stopped a cycle of abuse.

If your  life experience looks, in some fashion, similar to mine, my heart breaks for you.  If you care to read what I write or listen to the songs I post, may they remind you that you are not alone; that our history is not our destiny; and - to quote Samwise Gangee -  "There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for." 

"I Won't Be That Kind Of Man"

https://suno.com/s/NeL22GOKKMFcX7eV

I’ve been digging through a past that owes me answers,

What sinful men did to me raises some questions.

They preached Jesus but passed on their damage,

Took me down a path that led to therapy sessions.

Chaos in my chest, white noise in my head

It’s just what happens when innocence is dead

When your safety doesn’t last, you figure out fast—

The devil doesn’t need horns, just a holy mask.

[Chorus]

I won’t be that kind of man

No, I won’t be that kind of man

Give a bad man power, and the little ones pay.

I won’t be that kind of—

I won’t be that kind of man

Let’s uncover all the things that I used as armor,

Fawning, freezing, running from the trauma.

Trying to make safe every time, every place

Learning how to read every look on your face

Hypocrites with Bibles, conveyors of violence

Forced on me these tools of survival,

And I’m haunted by ghosts that continuously lurk

And learning what it takes to make life work

[Chorus]

I’m naming the damage, not carrying the blame.

I don’t carry their darkness or shoulder their shame.

If pain is a language, I’m learning new words,

I won’t translate abuse into someone else’s curse.

[Chorus]

I am not that kind of man

I am not that kind of man

What they broke, I’m breaking free

I am not that kind of—

I am not that kind of man

I will never be

That kind of man.

The Therapy Sessions #7: "You Were Never To Blame"

As I mentioned in the first post in The Therapy Sessions series, it's hard to describe what it's like to be blindsided by memories of the legacy of childhood trauma while in my 50's. I've got Jesus, good therapists, a loving family and a supportive church community, but... it's a lot.  

My second post/song noted that for the next several songs, it's worth noting that the ages of 8, 9 and 10 were the epicenter of trauma.  On the other end of the spectrum,I've learned it's not unusual for men my age to remember this kind of stuff in their 50s. 

My third song looked at how a child can form views of themselves based on trauma and not reality. This song was a loving song to remind Little Me of who I really was.

The fourth song had more to do with navigating that legacy as a man in my 50's. It's been a wild ride, y'all, but I'm getting onto solid ground.

The fifth song was meant to capture a child-like me asking God some sincere questions about why God allows life to unfold the way it does.This song is quiet, contemplative, hopefully capturing some hopeful sorrow.

The sixth song was not quiet.  Part of trauma recovery is being honest about anger and the weight of all that happened, and, well, sometimes the day in front of us gets overwhelming. This song let me vent.

Today's song is another perspective from adult me as I look back on Little Me and speak truth to push out the lies.

Perhaps your life experience looks, in some fashion, similar to mine. If so, I'm sorry. That's really hard. If you care to read what I write or listen to the songs I post, may they remind you that you are not alone; that our history is not our destiny; and - to quote Samwise Gangee -  "There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for."  

"You Were Never To Blame"

https://suno.com/s/grhd2tRjpJwIhWOA

How does a boy, only nine, maybe ten,

Targeted by others who would sin

Prepare for the people, who would circle again?

With no means to defend

For a boy who was nine, maybe ten.

How does a boy, only nine, maybe ten,

Ashamed and confused by the hands of grown men,

Try to make sure it won’t happen again?

With no means to defend

For a boy who was nine, maybe ten.

Chorus

9 year old boy, you were never to blame,

They branded your soul with their own shame.

You made it through by forgetting the pain—

And their own darkness, told you your name.

How does a boy, only nine, maybe ten,

Already collapsing before it begins,

Show anyone else what kept happening then?

How does a boy, only nine, maybe ten, 

Know he wasn’t the problem—the problem was them

And one day there’ll be light, but it’s dark until then…

Chorus

You carried the silence as long as you could,

Believing that darkness was stronger than good.

But truth has a voice that burns through the shame—

It calls to the boy, and it speaks your true name.

Chorus

None of their darkness, can tell you…

Your name is…

Beautiful Boy.

The Therapy Sessions #3: "Beautiful Boy"

As I mentioned in the first post in The Therapy Sessions series, it's hard to describe what it's like to be in my 50s and be blindsided by unveiled memories of the devastating legacy of childhood trauma. It raises so many emotions, and questions, and instability. 

My second post/song noted that for the sake of the narrative that will show up in a few songs,  the ages of 8,  9 and 10 were the epicenter of trauma. These were not exclusive years, but they will show up more than once. 

These songs are a journal of pain, healing, despair, hope, anger, mercy..... I tried to capture real moments, all of which matter in the journey toward healing.

Perhaps your life experience looks, in some fashion, similar to mine. If so, I'm sorry. That's really hard. If you care to listen to the songs I post, may they remind you that you are not alone; that our history is not our destiny; and, to quote Samwise Gangee, "There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for." 

This song is one of my favorites. First, the musical genre is in my bones. Second, I wrote the lyrics in an evening in which I felt a desperate need to validate the imago dei in me, the idea that I had value, worth and dignity given by God that cannot be taken by anyone.

BEAUTIFUL BOY

https://suno.com/s/dggGDnBjCzxFCPiQ

Beautiful boy,

You were young, you were sweet, you were fun.

Those who mocked you and hurt you

Taught you lies you believed one by one.

Beautiful boy,

You were true, you were good, you were blue.

Those who used you and bruised you

Told a story that just wasn’t true

Beautiful boy,

You were kind, you were gentle, you shined.

It’s not your fault that you forgot

Given the troublesome times.

Beautiful boy,

You made it, and you’ll be a man,

With a heart being mended

By the touch of His hand.

What was broken will heal,

What was lost He’ll reveal,

Through His mercy and love,

Beautiful boy.

Beautiful boy, you were lost,

But He carried the cross

To find you,

And love you back to life—

Beautiful boy.

The Therapy Sessions #2: "When I Was Nine"

As I mentioned in the first post in The Therapy Sessions series, it's hard to describe what it's like to be in my 50s and  blindsided by unexpected recall of the devastating legacy of childhood trauma. You can read more about that if you click on this link. 

For the next several songs, it's worth noting that the ages of 9 and 10 were the epicenter of trauma. These were not exclusive years, but they will show up more than once. 

Perhaps your life experience looks, in some fashion, similar to mine. If so, I'm sorry. That's really hard. If you care to listen to the songs I post, may they remind you that you are not alone; that our history is not our destiny; and, to quote Samwise Gangee, "There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for." 

Here is a link to the song: https://suno.com/s/mlYdNQPQpajoyfIy . I love this Southern Rock version so much, because it's hard and gritty, and this kind of music is embedded in my soul.            

"When I Was Nine"

When I was nine it was time

To learn life is not fine

That words can be weapons

For bullies like mine.

That friendship is fleeting

And happiness is cheating

And my heart takes a beating

And I was just nine. 

When I was ten, it was then 

That I learned from some men

How boundaries broken

Look a whole lot like sin.

And safety was stolen,

And trust just a token

And trauma awoken

And I was just ten.

CHORUS:

There’s beauty from ashes

And though I have flashes

Of pain, when it gashes

My soul, I’m gonna be alright. 

Those memories, they last

50 years in the past

Feel like yesterday, 

That child, that boy,

Who some would destroy

Has his reckoning.

CHORUS

When all’s said and done,

What was said, what was done

Does not dictate

What I have become.

There is another version of this song that I really like. It's "dark alternative" in Suno, which reminds me of Evanescence or Flyleaf. Choose your version. https://suno.com/s/c0awQJMgcTc9KgtU.

SONG #3: "Beautiful Boy"

The Therapy Sessions#1: "Toil And Trouble"

It's hard to describe what it's like to be blindsided by fresh memories of childhood bullying and sexual trauma while in my 50's. I guess it was the right time. I was in good community at church; my wife and I were doing great; I had stability around me that gave me room to be unstable. And boy howdy, has there been some instability.

Not longer after I began remembering things long suppressed, I asked a counselor friend when I should consider therapy. She said, "When life becomes unmanageable." With that standard in mind, it was not long before I knew it was time to get professional help. 

Over the past two years, I have done both Equine Therapy and EMDR.  I have been a part of two small groups at church in which I am free to be honest about how I'm doing and what I'm processing. I kept our church elders up-to-date; they gave me support and room to both fall apart and heal. I addressed our church congregation this past July about my journey, and they responded with love. 

I've pushed into God more than ever before, focusing on His love and His promise to make all things new (Revelation 21). I cling to that: He has the love and power needed to reconcile all things to Himself (Colossians 1).

And yet, honestly, so many days I just wanted to lock myself in my room, turn out the light, and curl up in a ball under a weighted blanket for the foreseeable future because it was so. so. hard.  

And then, I would catch glimpses of what kind of life awaited on the other side of healing, and it was so beautiful, and healthy, and good, and I loved who I was as Jesus worked those things for my good. (Romans 8:28) 

It's been a wild ride.