I’m excited to introduce today’s Voices of Wisdom feature contributor Joan Z Rough. I met Joan through her wonderful blog where she writes regularly about life and “harvesting wisdom”. I was drawn to the honesty of her voice and our mutual struggle with PTSD. Her voice of wisdom is strong and growing stronger with each passing year. I can’t wait to read her memoir Scattering Ashes, A Memoir of Letting Go will be available September 20, 2016, already receiving great reviews.
Joan describes herself as “a wife, mother, grandmother, writer, blogger, gardener, artist, healthy food nut, and someone who loves all creatures, especially dogs.” She’s addicted to books, good movies and most especially her grand-kids. There is so much more to Joan that what she does. I will let her tell you the rest of the story.
HARVESTING WISDOM
by Joan Z Rough
By three methods we may learn wisdom:
First, by reflection, which is noblest;
Second, by imitation, which is easiest;
and third by experience, which is the bitterest.”
Confucius
Pearls of wisdom are things we harvest like grapes. We crush them into small bits, allow them to ferment, remove the waste products, and set the rest aside, allowing the resulting liquid to age. By the time we are elders, what we have is a rich, vintage wine, heady with notes of contemplation, emulation, and awareness.
We begin harvesting wisdom the moment we are born. We learn about the world from the way it tastes, smells, looks, and feels. By the time we’re two or three years old the feel of a wet diaper may begin to annoy us. We follow our parent’s example, and begin to pee in a toilet. If we hold it for too long because we’re having fun playing with our favorite toys, we wet ourselves, and are then made fun of by friends and/or siblings. We suddenly understand that in order to keep from being humiliated, we need to pay attention to the messages our body sends us so that we don’t have to suffer from insults.
I’ll be seventy-four in November and have been harvesting wisdom all of my life. However, you’d never know it based on my behavior through the years. As a child, I was willful and stubborn, yet filled with fear and shame. As an adolescent I became a practiced liar, sneaking about, disobeying, and avoiding my parents as best I could. During most of my adulthood, I carried the scars and the dysfunction that both of my parents bequeathed me; a life built of shame, anger, hate, blame, fear, and victim-hood.
“I believed there was something terribly wrong with me.”
I’ve been unhappy for a good part of my life. Periods of sheer joy and happiness were often washed away by unfathomable depression and torrents of fear and anxiety. I didn’t know why. I believed there was something terribly wrong with me. That I was broken. Damaged goods. Undeserving of anything more than what I already had.
It all came to a head when I became my mother’s caregiver during her last seven years of life. Except for her last six months, she lived with my husband and me. Mom held tight to her fear and denial of death while I tried my best to make life as pleasant as I could for her. When memories of her mistreatment of me as a child began seeping out of the hiding places I had tucked them away in, I grew to hate her and found myself more depressed and anxious than ever. It wasn’t until after her death, that I realized that something had to change in order for me to be happy. If I didn’t I’d go to my grave a sorry soul, hauling my past with me, like a trunk of old clothes that no longer fit.
My goal was to remake myself into a whole and happy human being and to let go of old memories that had almost destroyed me. I took time to examine where I had been and what I had done with my life. I was diagnosed with PTSD, and began seeing a therapist, whose specialty was trauma. She helped me understand that I had been an abused child. That the belief that I had a normal upbringing was a fairy tale, and that I could be whole and happy if I chose to be.
“The more I wrote, the more things came to the surface.”
After unending months of digging through the past and trying to find medication that might help me over the panic and overwhelming feelings I carried with me, I began writing out what I knew. The more I wrote, the more things came to the surface. They were things I had hidden from myself because they were painful. Taking an excruciating look back through the years, I saw myself being beaten by my father, while screaming for my mother to stop him. I finally understood the basis for my contempt for her. She never stopped him.
Along with the unearthing of the past, I found acceptance for who I am. I discovered the words and experiences that can trigger negative reactions in me. I began navigating through my days more easily, choosing between what made me feel good and what brought on my anxiety. I questioned my parent’s lives when they were younger, and uncovered the massive extent to which my mother had been abused by her mother. I already knew that my father suffered from PTSD due to his experiences during World War II. But it wasn’t until I myself was diagnosed with the same disorder that I found compassion for him, as well as for my mother.
Regrets followed. I wanted to go back and make it all better. But equipped with tools and knowledge my parents never had, I was better prepared to realize that they had done the best they could. Though I knew I couldn’t change the past and could never forget their mistreatment of me, I let go of my victim-hood. I found love, forgiveness and a deep understanding of them, myself, and the human spirit.
When people hear my story, some comment on what a hard life I’ve had. But I always let them know that though it was tough at times, without the adversity I’ve lived with, I’d never have found myself and the peace I live with now.
It isn’t through sitting in the sun and smelling the roses that one learns and gathers wisdom. It’s through hard knocks, the fermentation and aging processes that we learn how to change ourselves and the world we live in.
Here’s to the good life, both yours and mine!
CONNECT WITH JOAN:
SCATTERING ASHES, A Memoir of Letting Go
will be available wherever books are sold on September 20, 2016
and is now available for preorder on Amazon and Barnes & Noble
WHAT EARLY READERS ARE SAYING:
“A brave story, beautifully written in an authentic, raw voice that strikes a universal chord about mother-daughter relationships, breaking the cycle of childhood abuse, taking the responsibility for one’s own healing and finding forgiveness.” KATHLEEN POOLER, Author of Ever Faithful To His Lead: My Journey Away From Emotional Abuse
“In this well-wrought memoir, Joan Rough shows us the beauty of becoming the alchemist of one’s own life. What happens after she invites her elderly, narcissistic mother to move in to her home will often set your teeth on edge. The amazing ending, however, will leave you standing in awe at the power of love.” SHIRLEY HERSHEY SHOWALTER, author of Blush: A Mennonite Girl Meets a Glittering World
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I’m reading Joan’s book now and what impresses me is the fact she doesn’t white-wash the facts but manages not to sound whiney either, a fine line to navigate.
Thank you, Marian. There is a fine line between the two. Though there were certainly days when I was whiney during my time with my mother, in the end, I accepted her for who she was. In the writing I didn’t feel that whining would not make the story something someone would want to read.
It sounds like Joan has hit that magic place that makes memoir writing soar. Looking forward to reading it!
What a beautiful post about a painful topic Joan. I could unfortunately relate to so much of what you wrote here. The abuse may have been different, but emotional abuse indeed leaves scars. I was reminded about what it was like when I had taken in my abusive mother for a time a few years back during her surgery recovery and how much contempt I felt for her as she imposed on my life and my marriage. But in my soon to be published new memoir, I write about the same things you discovered through your journey of angst – putting things in perspective with an understanding, finding a peace and forgiveness.
Abuse is painful and life altering regardless of who inflicts it upon us or to what degree. The common thread is pain and suffering and life long struggle — when children are abused they are left feeling that something is wrong with them, but they don’t know what. As adults, they then spend countless hours trying to “fix” themselves. It gives me great hope to see so many women reach mid-life and begin to untangle that invisible web that has kept them trapped in misery. I applaud all who continue to work to free themselves and then begin to share their journey. It offers the gift of hope to those still locked in suffering and offers guidance that may just help free as well. I look forward to reading your new memoir as well, Debby!
Thanks for being part of the conversation. No one form of abuse is worse than another. It’s all relative and the victims of abuse have a long row to hoe in order to get their lives back. Caring for an abusive mother is not a good thing to do, yet I learned so many valuable lessons about life, myself, and human nature. There were many silver linings in those dark clouds. I look forward to reading your memoir.
You have struggled hard to gain your wisdom, Joan, and now you have a gift to give all the rest of us. You also unlocked a trauma that will not have the same impact on others because the light of day has been shed on it. This is heroic work. My hat is off! And my good wishes on the next stage of launching and speaking go with you.
Thank you so much, Shirley, for your kind and encouraging words. As we age, our experiences come together and the result is wisdom.