Book review: You Are the One You’ve Been Waiting For, from Richard Schwartz

Your Are the One You’ve Been Waiting For is one of these books : explaining we fall in love with people because we want them to fix what is broken in us. And that it does not work.

There are other books like this. I find them all very annoying.

I mean, sure, it’s true. At least for us trauma survivors.

Still, who wants to realize we are repeating an old drama over and over again ? Who wants to leave this all consuming attraction, this mesmerizing chemistry, our belief this relationship will make us happy, at ease with ourselves, that we have found the one magical person ?

We really don’t want to. We can embellish or deny facts, ignore what other are telling us, pretend this is not the same old usual relationship with another person, fervently believe this is true love, close our eyes, close our ears, and turn our back on the reality of the relationship.

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Book review: No Bad Parts, by Richard Schwartz

In a documentary I saw an articulate young women who used to hear voices. These voices terrified her. She was labelled as schizophrenic, institutionalized and medicated: her doctors were obviously as scared as she was.

I was hypnotized by her story, even though I cannot really say I hear voices – well I do, but contrary to those of us suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder I’m aware it’s me speaking in my own head.

The documentary went on to explain that most people hearing voices are now considered sane: it can be a consequence of being sexually abused.

We all have parts in us, but trauma can sometimes prevent them from communicating with each other. Hence the frightening impression that voices in our heads are coming from another person.

I resonated with both her experience, and the explanation. It made so much sense for me as well.

Even if I don’t hear voices, I always knew there were different sides to my personality. I sometimes feel like a very young and panicked child, sometimes like a competent and calm adult , and sometimes like a cynical, judgmental soul.

Yes, I always felt “me“, but I ended up not knowing who was the real me. And I felt crazy.

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Am I crazy ?

I have wondered a few times in my life if I was crazy. Looking back, it’s surprising I did not ask myself this question a lot more.

I felt crazy within relationships : stakes were high, and relationships were great to project my inner drama.

And when it happened, watch out. I could not understand my behavior, my emotions, my thoughts, my choices, my desires. They were very, very far from my usual strong common sense.

Falling head over heels in love with someone I barely knew was bizarre. Getting stuck for months in a painful obsession over someone who did not care was senseless. Falling out of love from one day to the next, from lovestruck to utterly non interested, was outright frightening. So was crying after making love with the man I loved.

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