The Journey
This
is dedicated to everyone I met along the way.
Prologue
Last Sunday afternoon I sat down at my laptop and began to write. I didn't know how long I would write for or how long the finished product would be. I just knew I had things inside me I had never publicly said before and they just needed to come out. The words just flowed from me like the Corrib after a deluge of rain. I took a break for a couple of hours, had my dinner and went to mass. I came back to the laptop and wrote for around another 3 hours. In the article I reveal how I discovered through psychotherapy that my father had sexually abused me as a young child, something I had completely blocked out of my mind in the subsequent years. I also reveal I was sexually abused by a scout leader as a young adult. I write about my dealings with the psychiatric services and my subsequent recovery through psychotherapy. Please do not read it if you feel you may be triggered by any of the issues I have mentioned.
Some people have found my story upsetting, others have called me brave. To me it just had to come out. To explain my drive to write the article I'll quote from Kate Millett's book "The Loony Bin Trip" which I'll come back to later. In reference to the book she states “It was this book or none, "The Loony Bin Trip", or nothing. For it stood like a boulder in the middle of the room, demanding to be attended to.” I then published the article on Tuesday morning May 14th. Doing so has been hugely liberating and very therapeutic for me. (Tommy Roddy 17/05/19)
Some people have found my story upsetting, others have called me brave. To me it just had to come out. To explain my drive to write the article I'll quote from Kate Millett's book "The Loony Bin Trip" which I'll come back to later. In reference to the book she states “It was this book or none, "The Loony Bin Trip", or nothing. For it stood like a boulder in the middle of the room, demanding to be attended to.” I then published the article on Tuesday morning May 14th. Doing so has been hugely liberating and very therapeutic for me. (Tommy Roddy 17/05/19)
In writing this article it is difficult to know where
to start. Do I start towards the beginning of my journey in life? There are
things from my early childhood I only discovered along the way. I could also
start with my psychiatric hospitalisations at the age of 20 or maybe I could start
towards the end of my journey and explain why I am writing this now and why it
took me so long. I think an appropriate place to start is with a quote from "The Loony Bin Trip" which I read in the Summer of 1992. In it Kate Millet wrote about her
attempt to regain control of her life after being diagnosed as manic-depressive.
It
was the following sentence from the book that probably changed my life. Kate
Millet is describing her encounter with Prof Ivor Browne and her anger at the
psychiatric profession: “He regards it as reasonable anger, detests drug
therapy, is of the deeper-levels school himself and would have me try therapy,
to go over the ground about my mother and father and so forth.”
During the Summer of 1992 I was in crisis. My very
existence on the planet was perilously close to extinction. The previous year
at the age of 27 I had started college in St. Patrick’s College in Drumcondra
to train as a primary school teacher. However depression which I had been
suffering from on and off for years reared its ugly head again and I struggled
very badly in my first year. I struggled with the course as well as the
Teaching Practice. My depression had returned again towards the end of my college
year, during my Gaeltacht 3 weeks in Carraroe and that Summer back in Galway.
To explain this further I need to go back to my teenage years.
I did my Leaving Cert in St Nathy’s College in
Ballaghaderreen in 1981. In September of that year I started studying
Electronic Engineering in what was then the Regional Technical College in
Galway. I had lived a very sheltered life growing up on a small farm outside
Ballaghaderreen in North Roscommon. I was a very shy, introverted, unhappy
young man. That first year in College, studying was my saviour. I attended my
lectures, studied in the evenings. I really didn’t have much of a social life
that year.
Towards the end of my first year in college I was in
St Patrick’s Church here in Galway and I saw that the local scout group were
looking for leaders to help out. I made contact with the person in charge and
started attending the weekly Cub Scout meetings. In June of 1982 we brought the
kids to a scout den down the country. It was there I met the group leader from
this group and he befriended me. He was in his sixties. He showered me with
attention. He told me he would be bringing their own kids on a camping trip the
following month and I was welcome to join them for the weekend if I wanted. I said
I would.
On the 17th July I turned 18 and I had my
first alcoholic drink that day. It was the following week I went on the camping
trip with this other scout group. On the first night of the camp all the young
leaders went out to the local town for a few drinks. I was very socially
awkward and the drink helped me to relax. I had a few pints and was inebriated
when I returned to the camp with the other leaders. The sleeping arrangements
were that myself and another young leader around my own age would sleep in the
trailer tent that the group leader had brought with him to the campsite. At
some stage during the night he put his hand inside my sleeping bag and sexually
fondled me. I was half asleep and half drunk. I didn’t know what to do and just
pretended I was asleep. In the morning nothing was said about it. I thought
about telling the other young leader who had been sleeping the other side of
him but I didn’t. The weekend continued as if nothing had happened.
I returned to college in Galway that September. I went
out socializing a bit more because the drink helped me. This man said if I was
ever passing through his town to call in. He had basically offered himself as a
“friend” to me. I do not remember when I felt depressed for the first time but
that year I began to experience bouts of depression. Over the next two and a
half years I met this scout leader from time to time. He took an interest in
me. My unhappiness with life had increased and I could talk to him. However
there was a price I had to pay for the friendship. Sometimes he would invite me to stay overnight in the scout den. He would give me drink and
sexually abuse me. The abuse never happened when I was sober.
After I finished in the RTC in 1984 I spent the Summer
working in Galway. I had become disillusioned with the course and didn’t want
to work in electronics. After the Summer finished I spent time in Galway and my
home place in Ballaghaderreen. My bouts of depression became more regular and
deeper. My depression continued into the following year. Around a week before I
was eventually hospitalised I went to the scout leader again. I stayed overnight in the scout den. At this stage I
really didn’t care what happened to me. He gave me drink and abused me again. That was the last time I ever saw or spoke to him. Many years later my mother told me he had died.
On the 14th of February 1985, St
Valentine’s Day, I was very very severely depressed. I didn’t think I’d be able
to make it through the day. I asked my parents to bring me to St Patrick’s
Hospital in Castlerea, the local psychiatric hospital, as I felt in real danger
of acting on my suicidal thoughts. When I met the psychiatrists I told my story
as best I could, including about the scout leader. They wrote it all down and
put me on anti-depressants. I responded to the anti-depressants. They let me
out for the weekend after 2 weeks because I had bought a ticket to see the Boom
Town Rats perform in Leisureland. I stayed with my Aunt Teresa in Salthill and
went with my cousins. I went back into the hospital for another week and then
they let me out.
Sometime around this time my mother told me she had gone to the scout leader when I was in hospital. She had confronted him about what had happened between us. I remember her saying he was very worked up when they spoke in the car and that the car was shaking. He told her he was gay.
After I came out of hospital I was feeling very good so I stopped taking the anti-depressants. I wanted to set up a radio station in Ballaghaderreen. I had gone on some kind of manic episode. I went round the shops in Ballaghaderreen “promoting” the radio station giving out pound notes. Very few people would take the money from me. When I was in town Aunt Teresa and my father came in. They said I wasn’t well and they wanted me to go back to the Castlerea loony bin. I said I wouldn’t but I eventually agreed to go to the Psychiatric Unit in the Regional Hospital in Galway, now University College Hospital Galway. There I met a psychiatrist. I tried to buy some machine he had on his desk for my radio station. I remember his words “I think you need help.” I couldn't believe what this man was saying to me. A few weeks previously I had been in a very severe suicidal depression and now I was feeling well. I instantly saw red. I stormed out the door past Aunt Teresa and my father. Teresa came after me pleading with me. I was eventually persuaded to go back to the loony bin in Castlerea. They brought me there by ambulance. I remember I talked non stop to the 2 ambulance personel on the journey there. They said very little to me in return . I spent another 9 weeks there before being released 2 weeks before my 21st birthday, with a diagnosis of manic-depression, now called bipolar, hanging over me. I was told I’d have to take lithium for the rest of my life to control my mood swings.
At one stage I tried to escape. I was upfront with the doctors and nurses and told them I wasn't staying there another night. I ran out an open door and ran down the long walkway towards Castlerea railway station which was just across the road from the hospital entrance. There was a train in the station. I was going to take the train to Ballyhaunis and then make it to Galway. However 2 if the nurses came after me in their car and caught me as I was crossing the road to the station. I remember saying to a startled on-looker that I had nearly made it!
In the hospital there was a full size snooker table. I began to play it quite regularly with the other patients and staff. I began to improve at it. We also watched the World Snooker Championship from the Crucible in Sheffield which was being broadcast at that time. It was in the loony bin I watched Dennis Taylor beat Steve Davis in the famous final which went down the the black ball. That was class. From then on until this present day I love watching snooker on TV and especially the annual World Championships in April/May. I met Steve Davis here in Galway last October when he was doing a DJ set in the Bierhaus pub. I told him where I had watched the 1985 final from.
Sometime around this time my mother told me she had gone to the scout leader when I was in hospital. She had confronted him about what had happened between us. I remember her saying he was very worked up when they spoke in the car and that the car was shaking. He told her he was gay.
After I came out of hospital I was feeling very good so I stopped taking the anti-depressants. I wanted to set up a radio station in Ballaghaderreen. I had gone on some kind of manic episode. I went round the shops in Ballaghaderreen “promoting” the radio station giving out pound notes. Very few people would take the money from me. When I was in town Aunt Teresa and my father came in. They said I wasn’t well and they wanted me to go back to the Castlerea loony bin. I said I wouldn’t but I eventually agreed to go to the Psychiatric Unit in the Regional Hospital in Galway, now University College Hospital Galway. There I met a psychiatrist. I tried to buy some machine he had on his desk for my radio station. I remember his words “I think you need help.” I couldn't believe what this man was saying to me. A few weeks previously I had been in a very severe suicidal depression and now I was feeling well. I instantly saw red. I stormed out the door past Aunt Teresa and my father. Teresa came after me pleading with me. I was eventually persuaded to go back to the loony bin in Castlerea. They brought me there by ambulance. I remember I talked non stop to the 2 ambulance personel on the journey there. They said very little to me in return . I spent another 9 weeks there before being released 2 weeks before my 21st birthday, with a diagnosis of manic-depression, now called bipolar, hanging over me. I was told I’d have to take lithium for the rest of my life to control my mood swings.
At one stage I tried to escape. I was upfront with the doctors and nurses and told them I wasn't staying there another night. I ran out an open door and ran down the long walkway towards Castlerea railway station which was just across the road from the hospital entrance. There was a train in the station. I was going to take the train to Ballyhaunis and then make it to Galway. However 2 if the nurses came after me in their car and caught me as I was crossing the road to the station. I remember saying to a startled on-looker that I had nearly made it!
In the hospital there was a full size snooker table. I began to play it quite regularly with the other patients and staff. I began to improve at it. We also watched the World Snooker Championship from the Crucible in Sheffield which was being broadcast at that time. It was in the loony bin I watched Dennis Taylor beat Steve Davis in the famous final which went down the the black ball. That was class. From then on until this present day I love watching snooker on TV and especially the annual World Championships in April/May. I met Steve Davis here in Galway last October when he was doing a DJ set in the Bierhaus pub. I told him where I had watched the 1985 final from.
Some time after
coming out of the hospital I stopped taking the lithium. I did a course in
Boyle called “Building on Experience” which led to a course in Sligo on radio
and television repairs. That led to working in Mack's Amusements in Bundoran for
the Summer. I returned to Galway, spent a few weeks in Clan Electric in
Dominick Street before getting a job in Salthill Amusements (The Big Arc). For
the most part I have fond memories of the roughly 5 years I spent there. I
enjoyed the work. I enjoyed working with people as well as being able to use my electronic qualifications in repairing the gambling machines. I was also very good to the children who used to come into the arcade.
During my first Summer working there I experienced a
bout of depression. I hadn’t taken any medication in around two years. I made
an appointment to attend the local psychiatric unit. They asked me if I had
experienced this before and I told them about my Castlerea hospitalisations 2
years previously. They contacted Castlerea. They said to me…no wonder you are
depressed, you are manic-depressive and you are not taking your medication.
They put me back on lithium.
Over the next few years I used to experience severe
bouts of depression, even on the lithium, but they were not frequent and would
clear up in a couple of weeks. The psychiatrists used to tell me if I wasn’t
taking the medication the dips would be more frequent and more severe. The only
time in my life I experienced a manic episode was that one occasion when on
anti-depressants after my first hospitalisation in 1985.
This was also the time of pirate radio. I began working part time on some of the stations here in Galway. My last station was KFM broadcasting from Dominick Street. I worked for around 9 months there. As well as presenting music programmes I did a DX programme for shortwave enthusiasts as well as a children's programme. I used to go into schools and youth clubs, record the children talking about their hobbies, playing musical instruments etc and then broadcast the programme on Saturday mornings. When all the pirates closed down at the end of 1988 I was the last presenter simply because no one else wanted to work on New Year's Eve. The station closed down at midnight. I was so sad afterwards.
Also while working in the Big Arc I left for 6 months to take up a job working on my own in the workshop in CK Electronics on Merchants Road. This was so different to being out and about meeting people constantly in the arcade. I tried my best to fit in and convince myself that I was taking a step up in the world. However at the end of my 6 months probation my bosses thankfully took me out of my misery and let me go. I went back to the Arc which I had never really left in the first place as I had continued working there part time while in CK.
This was 1990 and I wasn't long back in the Arc before I thought about going back to college to train as a primary school teacher. I was 26 at the time. I had all the requirements from my Leaving Cert except Honours Irish. I started evening classes at the Study Centre in Mill Street alongside Leaving Cert Students. In June 1991 I sat Honours Irish in St Enda’s College on Threadneedle Road. I applied for the B Ed course in St Pat’s in Dublin, did the interview and after getting my honour in Irish I was accepted. I had stopped taking my medication again the previous year.
This was also the time of pirate radio. I began working part time on some of the stations here in Galway. My last station was KFM broadcasting from Dominick Street. I worked for around 9 months there. As well as presenting music programmes I did a DX programme for shortwave enthusiasts as well as a children's programme. I used to go into schools and youth clubs, record the children talking about their hobbies, playing musical instruments etc and then broadcast the programme on Saturday mornings. When all the pirates closed down at the end of 1988 I was the last presenter simply because no one else wanted to work on New Year's Eve. The station closed down at midnight. I was so sad afterwards.
Also while working in the Big Arc I left for 6 months to take up a job working on my own in the workshop in CK Electronics on Merchants Road. This was so different to being out and about meeting people constantly in the arcade. I tried my best to fit in and convince myself that I was taking a step up in the world. However at the end of my 6 months probation my bosses thankfully took me out of my misery and let me go. I went back to the Arc which I had never really left in the first place as I had continued working there part time while in CK.
This was 1990 and I wasn't long back in the Arc before I thought about going back to college to train as a primary school teacher. I was 26 at the time. I had all the requirements from my Leaving Cert except Honours Irish. I started evening classes at the Study Centre in Mill Street alongside Leaving Cert Students. In June 1991 I sat Honours Irish in St Enda’s College on Threadneedle Road. I applied for the B Ed course in St Pat’s in Dublin, did the interview and after getting my honour in Irish I was accepted. I had stopped taking my medication again the previous year.
In St Pat’s College we stayed in on site
accommodation. I remember my first week went well. That first weekend I went
back to my home place in Roscommon as I had moved out of Galway. However I went
into a severe depression the following week back in Dublin. I went back to
Galway to stay with friends. My mood didn’t improve. Sunday came round and it
was time to go back to Dublin. I knew if I went back there was a very strong
possibility I wouldn’t make it as far as Drumcondra. I asked my friend to
accompany me to the Psychiatric Unit in the Regional. They kept me overnight.
In the morning my mood had lifted. They put me back on the lithium and let me
out. I decided to take a week off and I returned to Dublin the following week.
As I said earlier I had a very difficult first year in
Dublin and the following Summer. By then I was in weekly contact with the
Psychiatric Unit here in Galway pleading with the psychiatrists for some kind of psychotherapy.
They kept telling me I was manic-depressive and that things would eventually
settle down. I never accepted the chemical imbalance theory as the reason for
my severe depressive episodes. I always felt there was a reason for my
depression buried deeply in my childhood.
I can’t remember how I got my hands on "The Loony Bin Trip" but a short reference
to Professor Ivor Browne in it set me on course that would completely change
the direction of my life. After reading about him I said to myself… I have to
find this man. I went to Dublin one day going round hospitals. I was eventually
told the hospital he was practicing in, St Brendan’s in Grangegorman. Back in
Galway I wrote in to the hospital in an effort to get an appointment with him.
In September I returned to Dublin after doing another
bad Teaching Practice, this time in my old National School in Ballaghaderreen.
I had heard about an Adult Children of Alcoholics course on the radio and I
started attending that. I got a letter from St Brendan’s Hospital to see a
psychiatrist there but this course seemed to be getting me in touch with
childhood issues so I deferred the appointment. When the course finished the
facilitator put me in touch with a psychotherapist in Dublin and I started
attending weekly sessions. That was January 1993.
Sometime after this I got an appointment to see a
psychiatrist in St Brendan’s. I told him my story as best I could. I remember
him saying that Prof Browne mostly dealt with people who were sexually abused
in childhood. I remember the thought in my head “how do you know there is no
sexual abuse there?”
During my Easter holidays from college I had my first
appointment with Prof Ivor Browne. I told him my story as I had to
psychiatrists for years in Galway. For the first time in my life I felt someone
understood what was going on for me. He told me he would take me on as a
client, that I would stop taking the lithium and undergo an intense form of
therapy in the hospital. He advised me to continue with the medication until
the Summer when I would be gradually weaned off it.
After I finished my second year in college I attended
psychiatrists in the hospital and over the course of a few weeks my daily dose
of the lithium was gradually reduced. I was due to finish it entirely in early
July but on July 4th, a few days before I was due to stop taking it,
I said this is my independence day and I didn’t take it anymore. That was the
last time I ever took lithium. Regarding my visits to the psychiatric unit here
in Galway, for a number of months afterwards I used to get appointments to
attend for my regular blood tests to monitor my lithium levels. I was so angry
with them I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of telling them I was no longer
taking the medication and Prof Browne would be looking after me from then on. I
never stood in the Psychiatric Unit again until around 3 years ago when a woman
I know asked me to visit her son there.
Prof Browne held holotropic breathwork sessions in an
old church on the grounds of the hospital. The sessions consisted of lying on a
mat, breathing deeper and faster with loud music being played. In that way you
would enter an altered state of consciousness. The thinking behind it is that
deeply buried emotions would come to the surface and be released. When I did my
first session I cried deeply. I did another breathwork 2 weeks later.
After these sessions I felt quite good. Because of the
difficulties I was having with the teacher training course I had arranged to
take a year off from college. Prof Browne said that when undergoing this type
of work it is very important to remain grounded in everyday life and asked me... did I need to take the year off. I decided to return to college. I met the
President of St Pat’s. He said that if I was returning I needed to do a
teaching practice as I had deferred one of them during the year. I did a
teaching practice in a school here in Galway. The head of Teaching Practice who
had now become a regular visitor came out to me and gave me a very positive
report.
At one stage early in my therapeutic journey I was at home in Roscommon. I was having a conversation with my father about doing the breathwork sessions with Prof Browne. He then apologised to me saying if he had ever done anything to me. This meant nothing to me at the time. The peculiar thing about all of this is that at this time I had a good relationship with him while I was angry with my mother.
At one stage early in my therapeutic journey I was at home in Roscommon. I was having a conversation with my father about doing the breathwork sessions with Prof Browne. He then apologised to me saying if he had ever done anything to me. This meant nothing to me at the time. The peculiar thing about all of this is that at this time I had a good relationship with him while I was angry with my mother.
I returned to St Pat’s in October. However not long
after going back my depression returned with a vengeance. I did a few more
holotropic breathwork sessions but then nothing was happening in these sessions.
At Christmas I approached the registrar in the College and told him of my
struggles. He told me I had a number of options one being that I complete the
academic part of the course and defer my upcoming Teaching Practice. I took
that option. After Christmas I continued with weekly psychotherapy sessions.
However when I returned to Galway at the end of my college
year I went into a severe depression again. I went back to Prof Browne who I
hadn’t seen since before Christmas. He gave me a number of options, one being
that I leave the therapist I had at the time and transfer my care over entirely
to his team. I took that option.
In September I started bimonthly holotropic breathwork
sessions. This continued until around April 1995. Prof Browne was retiring plus
I wasn’t getting in touch with emotions any more in the sessions. He referred
me to a psychotherapist in Tuam who I would see every 2 weeks. It was towards
the end of 1996 that something came up in my therapy, something that I had been
completely unaware of up until this time. A very deep trauma came up for me
which over the course of a few weeks came to consciousness and I discovered that my father had sexually
abused me as a very young child. I had completely blocked out the memory of
this. I was shocked. This brought up huge anger towards him.
I stopped going to Ballaghaderreen and didn’t go to my
home place for over 3 and a half years. Over the course of these years I
continued to deal with the emotions the therapy was bringing up for me. Over
time I told my mother and 2 brothers. I was working part time in Salthill at
the time.
Towards the end of 1998 I decided to tell an Uncle of mine.
He was my mother’s brother, a priest who was back living in Ireland not far
from my home place, having spent his life ministering in Japan. As a teenager I used to send letters regularly to Japan which he always replied to. I remember the
weekend well because I had gone down to stay in his house for the weekend. It
was the weekend Lady Diana died. I told him my story. Without going into the
details of what he said, some of which shocked me, he basically rubbished my
story. He alternated from saying this couldn’t have happened to saying so what
if it had.
My father had 8 sisters who thought he was a god. I
thought… what hope have I in telling any of them, if my father’s brother in law
won’t believe me. I never told another relative until 2011. My therapy
continued. I heard that my father wanted to see me at various times but I told
members of my family that if he came anywhere near me I would go to the guards.
Eventually I agreed to meet him. Himself, my sister and mother called to me
here in Salthill. I don’t know why no one came into my flat to talk. My sister
left the car. I sat into the driver’s seat. He was in the passenger seat. My
mother was in the back seat. I began to tell him what had come up for me in my
therapy. He denied completely doing anything to me. There wasn’t much else I
could do.
After 4 years seeing the Tuam therapist she ended the
professional relationship against my wishes. I was happy with the relationship
and felt I was making progress. She referred me to a therapist in the Rape
Crisis Centre here in Galway. I told the therapist my story. At least she was
honest but she said she wasn’t sure she could help me.
While I never had the deep depressions I used to have,
after I finished my holotropic breathwork with Prof Browne, I still used to
have suicidal thoughts from time to time. However after my session with the Rape
Crisis Centre therapist, my suicidal thoughts came back very strongly. I
contacted the Samaritans here in Galway and called in to their centre in Nun’s
Island. In the meantime I tried to get another therapist. Eventually a
therapist agreed to see me but she cancelled before my first session. I was in
crisis at this point.
I decided to go back to Prof Ivor Browne because he
had referred me to the Tuam therapist in the first place. He referred me to a
psychiatrist in Dublin who was also a psychotherapist. It was very expensive and Prof Browne said he
referred people to him that other therapists couldn’t help.
Initially this psychiatrist/psychotherapist was very positive about my recovery.
After being with him for around a year and a half he talked about me taking a 6
month break. I came to Galway and experienced my suicidal thoughts again. I
called into the Samaritans again. At my next appointment I told him honestly
that if he insisted on the 6 month break I couldn’t guarantee that I would be
able to keep the appointment. I continued seeing him for around 8 years in
total.
In 2002 my father got leukemia. Initially when he was
in UCHG I refused to see him. I remember one evening when I was working in my local shop here in Salthill one of my Galway cousins called into the shop on her way to visit my father in UCHG. When she told me where she was going I just glared back at her without saying anything. I often wondered afterwards what she thought of my reaction. Eventually I did go into the hospital to see him. It was my first time going in and he had been in a few weeks at that stage. I met Aunt Teresa in the hospital and we briefly spoke. It was as if I had been calling in regularly instead of my first time. After getting some treatment there he went home to Roscommon for a while. Towards the end of his life he was admitted to Roscommon Hospital where he eventual died in 2003. In his last few weeks alive I visited him regularly. Each time I asked him if he ever did
anything to me. I just wanted some kind of acknowledgement. Each time he denied
doing anything to me. One day when I asked the question he said “except in
innocence.” I picked him up on this but he claimed to not know why he had said
that. For the most part in my conversations with him I spoke to him as my father despite the conflicts that were ravaging my head. In one of my last meetings with him he thanked me. Why would someone thank someone who had accused them of sexually abusing them if they were innocent?
In the meantime in my everyday life I had moved to
another part time job and eventually started working for myself in 2004. I was
installing TV aerials as well as free to air satellite systems. One evening
while driving home after a job the thought came to me…do I want to be doing this for the
rest of my life. The answer was… No. I started thinking of my teaching career
again.
I inquired with St Pat’s in Dublin where I had
previously studied. They told me that because it was so long ago, even though I
had passed all my academic exams and had attained the Diploma in Religious Education,
I would have to make a fresh application and start all over again. I was hoping
I would be allowed just to do the Teaching Practices I had deferred. I applied
to the College as well as applying for the course in Mary Immaculate College in
Limerick. I didn’t get the Dublin course but I was accepted into the B Ed in
Mary I. I commenced the course in September 2007.
I found the first semester difficult but in January
2008 I settled into the course. I was appointed class rep by my classmates as
the incumbent had to take a year off as
his wife became pregnant. At the end of that January I did a holotropic
breathwork session in Dunderry in Co Meath, the first time I had done one since
1995 with Prof Browne. It brought up a lot of emotion for me. I decided at that
stage that holotropic breathwork would form the basis of my recovery from then
on. I settled into College life, enjoyed my role as class rep. I did a Teaching
Practice in a school in Limerick. It went well.
That Summer we went to the Gaeltacht on the Dingle peninsula.
Afterwards I did my first holotropic breathwork session in Moyhastin outside
Westport. I was to become a regular there for the next 10 years as well as
doing other sessions in Dublin, Dunderry and Wicklow. Shortly after this I decided to leave the Dublin psychiatrist/psychotherapist. I asked him for a medical report. In it he referred to the time he had spoken to me about taking the 6 month break and my suicidal thoughts at the time. He said the only reason he continued seeing me was to prevent me from committing suicide. This angered me. What about recovery? He had effectively given up on me at that point. In a medical report Prof Ivor Browne had written for me shortly after first seeing him, he predicted I would make a “complete recovery.”
Because it's important to be in therapy while undergoing holotropic breathwork I returned to Prof Browne to recommend a therapist. On his recommendation I started seeing a therapist in Claremorris.
That Autumn I returned to Mary I. In some ways it was the secondary school I never had. I set up a student website and used to put up things of interest to the students. I was a regular on the student social scene, would take pictures on nights out, come back home and upload them to the website before I went to bed so the students would see them when they came into college the following morning at 9 o’clock. The website became so popular with the students that lecturers would sometimes give me material to upload for the students. I also became involved in the on campus student radio station...Wired FM. It had been my first time broadcasting since my pirate radio days. That was cool. In my second year I went for election as Welfare and Equality Officer in the Student Union elections. I was elected and beat the incumbent. Unlike the majority of the students I was sad to leave Mary I.
During the Summer after leaving Mary I, my Claremorris therapist emigrated so I had to find a new therapist. This was a blessing in disguise. I asked Jean Farrell from the holotropic breathwork centre in Westport if she would take me on as a client. To have the breathwork facilitator where I was doing most of my sessions as my therapist was to work out extremely well for me. A very good professional relationship developed which boosted my recovery. Jean Farrell is one of the most experienced breathwork facilitators in the world and also used to supervise therapists working in Rape Crisis Centres.
Because it's important to be in therapy while undergoing holotropic breathwork I returned to Prof Browne to recommend a therapist. On his recommendation I started seeing a therapist in Claremorris.
That Autumn I returned to Mary I. In some ways it was the secondary school I never had. I set up a student website and used to put up things of interest to the students. I was a regular on the student social scene, would take pictures on nights out, come back home and upload them to the website before I went to bed so the students would see them when they came into college the following morning at 9 o’clock. The website became so popular with the students that lecturers would sometimes give me material to upload for the students. I also became involved in the on campus student radio station...Wired FM. It had been my first time broadcasting since my pirate radio days. That was cool. In my second year I went for election as Welfare and Equality Officer in the Student Union elections. I was elected and beat the incumbent. Unlike the majority of the students I was sad to leave Mary I.
During the Summer after leaving Mary I, my Claremorris therapist emigrated so I had to find a new therapist. This was a blessing in disguise. I asked Jean Farrell from the holotropic breathwork centre in Westport if she would take me on as a client. To have the breathwork facilitator where I was doing most of my sessions as my therapist was to work out extremely well for me. A very good professional relationship developed which boosted my recovery. Jean Farrell is one of the most experienced breathwork facilitators in the world and also used to supervise therapists working in Rape Crisis Centres.
In May 2010 my Aunt Teresa from Salthill died. I was
very fond of her when I was growing up and in my years as a young adult after I
started working in the Big Arc I was often in their house. I have very fond
memories of that time as well as her husband Vincent who was my god-father. She
was my father’s sister. After I discovered about the childhood abuse I stopped
calling to the house. My father would inevitably have come into the
conversation from time to time and I wouldn’t have been able to deal with that.
That is a very sad loss I have had to deal with along with a plethora of other
losses in my life.
On July 17th 2011, my birthday, another of
my father’s sisters died, my Aunt Kathleen in Castlerea. I gave a couple of my
Galway cousins a lift down to the funeral. I was bringing just one of them back
to Galway and before he left I told him about my father’s sexual abuse. I
explained to him that that was the reason why I had stopped calling to their
house. He said Teresa wouldn’t have been able to deal with it if I had said it.
Even though I got my teaching qualification in 2010 I
didn’t feel ready to go working so I decided to concentrate on my recovery and
regular holotropic breathwork sessions. As I delved into the painful emotions
from my childhood it seemed to free me. It was as if the deeper I went into my
childhood traumas I was almost propelled out into the community. I became
involved in a lot of sporting and charitable organisations in the city. Going
for election in the 2014 local elections was another milestone along the way.
Over the years I used to attend 12 step meetings such as ACOA (Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families) and CODA (Co-dependents Anonymous). Anyone who is familiar with 12 step meetings such as AA is familiar with how these meetings work. People sit in a circle, some readings are read and people can share as much or as little as they like about their lives or whatever is foremost on their minds. The meetings are strictly no-feedback. Overtime people realise the importance of this and the format allows people to express very personal feelings knowing no one is going to judge them. I found these meetings hugely supportive to me on my therapeutic journey.
I particularly liked the ACOA meetings as I identified very strongly with the readings and "The Problem." Over the years there have been regular meetings of ACOA around Galway. At one stage in the 90's when I was attending the psychotherapist in Tuam I used to travel to Dublin every Saturday to attend one of these meetings in the Pro Cathedral. My therapy was getting me in touch with core childhood feelings which used to swirl around in my head until I talked about them at the ACOA meeting and then a kind of transformation used to take place. Verbalising my innermost thoughts and feelings freed me from them. We used to go to Bewley's for coffee afterwards and I would be generally in good form after the meetings.
Around 4 or 5 years ago I felt I needed something more specific to my needs. I contacted One in Four, the charity set up specifically for survivors of childhood sexual abuse as well as the local Rape Crisis Centre here in Galway. The Galway RCC was running a support group for men who were sexually abused in childhood. I started attending it. This was a very big step for me as I felt it enabled me to more fully validate my own childhood sexual abuse as opposed to discussing it with a psychotherapist or talking about it at 12 step meetings which was always very difficult. I attended the meetings for over a year until they stopped as attendances had been falling and they were no longer sustainable. However these meetings were another stepping stone on my recovery journey.
Over the years I used to attend 12 step meetings such as ACOA (Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families) and CODA (Co-dependents Anonymous). Anyone who is familiar with 12 step meetings such as AA is familiar with how these meetings work. People sit in a circle, some readings are read and people can share as much or as little as they like about their lives or whatever is foremost on their minds. The meetings are strictly no-feedback. Overtime people realise the importance of this and the format allows people to express very personal feelings knowing no one is going to judge them. I found these meetings hugely supportive to me on my therapeutic journey.
I particularly liked the ACOA meetings as I identified very strongly with the readings and "The Problem." Over the years there have been regular meetings of ACOA around Galway. At one stage in the 90's when I was attending the psychotherapist in Tuam I used to travel to Dublin every Saturday to attend one of these meetings in the Pro Cathedral. My therapy was getting me in touch with core childhood feelings which used to swirl around in my head until I talked about them at the ACOA meeting and then a kind of transformation used to take place. Verbalising my innermost thoughts and feelings freed me from them. We used to go to Bewley's for coffee afterwards and I would be generally in good form after the meetings.
Around 4 or 5 years ago I felt I needed something more specific to my needs. I contacted One in Four, the charity set up specifically for survivors of childhood sexual abuse as well as the local Rape Crisis Centre here in Galway. The Galway RCC was running a support group for men who were sexually abused in childhood. I started attending it. This was a very big step for me as I felt it enabled me to more fully validate my own childhood sexual abuse as opposed to discussing it with a psychotherapist or talking about it at 12 step meetings which was always very difficult. I attended the meetings for over a year until they stopped as attendances had been falling and they were no longer sustainable. However these meetings were another stepping stone on my recovery journey.
Gradually I tried to get my teaching career back on
track. In 2016 I worked for a few weeks as an SNA in a school here in Galway.
The following year I volunteered for 2 months in the school I had done the good
teaching practice in many years previously when I was a student in St Pat’s in
Dublin. The year after that I subbed in different schools mostly in the county.
Last year I moved to Dublin as I felt I wouldn’t get
longer term work here in Galway as I still needed to do my H Dip. I also knew
someone who was prepared to rent me a room in his house. Initially I enjoyed
the teaching but I sometimes struggled especially with difficult classes. I
also had problems with my accommodation and had to move out of where I was
living.
I came back to Galway and decided to concentrate on my
recovery. I volunteered with the Galway Arts Festival and then drove to
Scotland for 5 nights with my car. That was beautiful. Over the last year
because of the intensity of my psychotherapy I had to pull back from a lot of
my volunteering although I still did once off activities like the Macnas
parade, the Cope Galway Christmas Day swim, the St Patrick’s Day parade as well
as some bucket collections. Christmas was a very difficult time for me. I
nearly didn’t help out at the swim, something I had done the last 5 or 6 years,
but I knew I would be angry with myself if I didn’t. I went up, fitted into my
role, same as always and in actual fact it was the highlight of my Christmas. Afterwards I drove to my home place in Roscommon for Christmas dinner and returned to Galway the following day.
Around 2 years ago I heard from my cousins that a
Roddy family reunion was being planned. My father had 8 sisters, three of whom
lived in America. I would have loved to meet these cousins but at the same time
I knew I just wouldn’t be able to be in their company if they referred to my
father. I decided the time for pretense was over. I sent an email to my cousin
who was organizing the get together. I told her I wouldn’t be going to the
reunion because my father had sexually abused me as a child. I knew this would
have been circulated round among them. Just 5 or 6 of my cousins, mostly from
the one family, emailed me back in empathy. I heard nothing from the vast
majority of them.
Last year my Uncle the priest died. I didn't go to his funeral. How different that relationship would have been if my father hadn't sexually abused me and I never had that conversation with my Uncle the weekend Lady Diana died.
Last year my Uncle the priest died. I didn't go to his funeral. How different that relationship would have been if my father hadn't sexually abused me and I never had that conversation with my Uncle the weekend Lady Diana died.
Over the last few months I really got in touch with
the core feelings from my childhood sexual abuse. The thought of speaking
publicly about it used to come from time to time over the years but I never did
anything about it. In fact I thought after I sent that email to my cousins I
had put the thing to bed. However these thoughts became much stronger and more
frequent in recent months. My mother never liked the fact that I had spoken publicly about suffering from depression and had overcome it through psychotherapy.
I had a difficult relationship with her throughout my life and it was really
only in the last few years that that improved because through the process of psychotherapy I had worked
through a lot of the negative feelings I had towards her. For as long as I can
remember, going back to my childhood, I had been angry with her.
How could I put a 92 year old woman through the
distress of me saying publicly her husband, my father, sexually abused me and
especially when I hadn’t done so earlier when his sisters were alive. All his
sisters are now dead except one Aunt I have living in America. They all went to
their graves knowing nothing about this. Whatever about my feelings towards my
mother over the years, she didn’t abuse me. I was really conflicted about all
of this. It felt to me in my silence as if I had taken one for the team and
this had caused me nothing but distress. At the same time I felt more
comfortable in myself if I were to speak publicly, something I wouldn’t have
done before. I thought, what if I did interviews with the local papers here in
Galway? The problem with that is that one of my brothers works in Castlebar and
he could pick up the Galway Advertiser there and bring it home. Would I have to
ring him up and say… don’t bring the Advertiser home this week? How would that
work out? These thoughts were really driving me crazy.
Because of everything that had been going on for me
the last few months I had more or less decided not to run in the local
elections as I had previously hoped to do. However 1 week before the close of
nominations I decided to drive down to Roscommon to see Mom. As I drove across
the city and saw all the election posters the thoughts of running came back to
me. On Monday 2 weeks ago, Mom had a fall at home. She seemed to be fine but
she was brought to Castlebar University Hospital for tests. The following
morning I decided to phone City Hall to make an appointment with the returning
officer but I also said I may cancel the appointment I was given on Friday
morning. That afternoon I drove to Castlebar to see my mother. She seemed to be
fine. She was sitting on a chair beside the bed. She told me about the fall
etc. To me she was just in for some tests, same as last Summer. She was as
tough as nails. Mom had been in hospital here in UCHG last Summer. She had a
big operation but seemed to recover well. However in the last year she only
left the house for medical appointments.
On Friday one of my brothers rang me at lunch time
saying Mom wouldn’t be coming out that day as we thought, they needed to do
more tests. At this stage there was no immediate danger we thought. I told him
I’d be down the following day. In the afternoon I handed in my nomination
papers. I was back home around 6:20 when I got a call from one of my brothers
saying Mom had taken a turn and that I should leave straight away. I left,
arriving at the hospital at 7:50. Mom had passed at 7:10. When I went into the
room she looked peaceful and was warm to touch. The thought that was in my head
was “she did what she could, I did what I could.”
I came back to Galway that night as I knew being in
familiar surroundings was the best place for me. On Sunday I drove to
Ballaghaderreen to spend some private time with her before the reposing. The
reposing went well which I had been dreading. Some friends of mine had
traveled distances from Galway and Mayo which was really nice. I didn’t sleep
that night. The following morning was very difficult. I was sitting in my car
before I went into the church. I didn’t want to engage in any chit chat with anyone.
A former class mate of mine from St Pat’s had come down from Galway to
sympathise with me. He lost his wife to cancer 3 years ago. He couldn’t stay
for the mass because he has a young family at home and had to get back. That
meant so much to me. I could hardly talk
to him.
We gave Mom a really nice send off. I had agreed to
read the reflection towards the end of the ceremony. I had “robbed” it from the
mass pamphlet that was used for Aunt Teresa’s funeral mass in 2010. I didn’t
know how I’d be able to read it. I have included it here:
You can shed tears that she is gone,
Or you can smile because she has lived
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come
back,
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has
left
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday
You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn
your back
Or you can do what she would want: smile, open your
eyes, love and go on.
I felt proud to be able to read it. At the end I
looked up and the church was full. Mom would have been very happy. After the funeral
mass some old school friends came up and sympathised with me which was really
nice.
After the burial we adjoined to a local pub for tea
and sandwiches. I then had lunch with my siblings in Ballaghaderreen. I came
back to Galway that evening as I had to decide whether to keep my name on the
ballot paper or not. Back in Galway the thoughts of speaking publicly about my
childhood sexual abuse came back to me. I thought, my mother is dead, what
reason is there not to do this? Obviously I had concerns about how my immediate
family and extended family of cousins would react but the reality is that
however they would react would be the same whether I did it now, next week,
next month or in 5 years time. I had carried this secret for 22 years and I
felt I couldn’t go on any longer keeping quiet.
There is another spanner in my works. Last July on my
birthday I was told I have prostate cancer. This isn’t something that causes me
too much concern at the moment. I am on what’s called active surveillance. I
have had 2 biopsies, an MRI scan and am due another MRI scan on the June bank
holiday weekend. I believe the mind and body are inextricably linked and that
trauma in the mind can manifest itself in the body. Whatever about the effect
on my mental health of the secrets I was carrying, they couldn’t be good for my
physical health either.
Also in the days after the funeral I couldn’t help but
think of the timing of my mother's passing. She had no idea of what was going on in my
mind the last few months but she did know I was troubled. I felt as if she was
saying to me….Tommy has things he needs to speak about before he can move on with his life and I’m not going to
stand in his way. I also felt that the fact I wasn’t there when she passed was
as if she was saying…Tommy doesn’t need to be here. He will be alright now.
Furthermore if she had died a day or two earlier I
wouldn’t have kept that appointment with the returning officer on Friday. Also
if she had died a day or two later, that would have moved everything forward
and I would have withdrawn my nomination before the deadline on Tuesday.
Epilogue.
Some people have said to me I should hold off on
publishing this so soon after my mother’s death, that I am grieving for her.
That is true. I am grieving for her but I have been grieving in various forms for
over 26 years, the length of time I have been in psychotherapy. Grief is a part
of life.
I find expressing myself in writing to be very
therapeutic. That is why I write so many letters to the editor. In writing this,
it’s a form of release and hopefully will help me in my healing process. They
say you are as sick as your secrets. I hope I’m just that bit healthier now
after doing this. Today Tuesday the 14th of May 2019 is 34 years and
3 months after I took the decision to stay alive by asking my parents to bring
me to St Patrick’s Hospital in Castlerea when everything was telling me I had
nothing to live for.
Holotropic means "moving towards wholeness." My internal and external lives are merging. I'd like to quote from a young writer from Tralee Co Kerry, Donal Walsh, who died from cancer aged 16 on May 12th 2013, but yet despite his short life on earth left his mark..."What impact could I ever make on the world if I was fake....I am me. There is no other way of putting it, little old Donal Walsh from Tralee, one body, one mind with a few other cobwebs and tales thrown in." Maybe part of being human is to acknowledge our cobwebs but sometimes we have to bring them out into the open, shine a light on them and eventually let them go.
When I was attending St Brendan's Psychiatric Hospital in Dublin in the mid 90s I used to tell the therapist I was seeing there, that I would overcome my problems and write a book about my experiences and it would be a best seller. The name of the book came to me at the time as "Life sentence revoked." This was inspired by Prof Browne in what he said to me the first time I met him. When I told him I was diagnosed as manic-depressive and was told I'd have to take lithium for the rest of my life, he said "that's a life sentence." Perhaps writing this blog is another milestone on my journey to achieving that aim.
@TommyRoddy
Holotropic means "moving towards wholeness." My internal and external lives are merging. I'd like to quote from a young writer from Tralee Co Kerry, Donal Walsh, who died from cancer aged 16 on May 12th 2013, but yet despite his short life on earth left his mark..."What impact could I ever make on the world if I was fake....I am me. There is no other way of putting it, little old Donal Walsh from Tralee, one body, one mind with a few other cobwebs and tales thrown in." Maybe part of being human is to acknowledge our cobwebs but sometimes we have to bring them out into the open, shine a light on them and eventually let them go.
When I was attending St Brendan's Psychiatric Hospital in Dublin in the mid 90s I used to tell the therapist I was seeing there, that I would overcome my problems and write a book about my experiences and it would be a best seller. The name of the book came to me at the time as "Life sentence revoked." This was inspired by Prof Browne in what he said to me the first time I met him. When I told him I was diagnosed as manic-depressive and was told I'd have to take lithium for the rest of my life, he said "that's a life sentence." Perhaps writing this blog is another milestone on my journey to achieving that aim.
@TommyRoddy
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