I read this poem on the web, and thought I would share it with you all. It seems to be very fitting with the healing process of dissociative trauma survivors.
THERE’S A HOLE IN MY SIDEWALK
Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
by Portia Nelson
I.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in
I am lost……
I am helpless
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
II.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
but, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in….it’s a habit.
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
IV.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V.
I walk down another street.
My challenge to you all —
Think about the holes in your life.
Where are you in this process?
What step are you on?
Moving from step 3 onto step 4 is very very big…. Many people get stuck right there.
What will it take for you to walk down another street?
And of course, I wish you the best in your healing journey — just watch out for those holes!
Warmly,
Kathy
Copyright © 2008-2018 Kathy Broady MSW and Discussing Dissociation
For us, the poem is missing the 1st verse
[ verse 1 would become verse 2 and so on as it is currently written].
Our first verse:
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see the immediate dangers both real and inherent
I don’t leave, Can’t leave
I am responsible
I set about securing the perimeter; warning others
I don’t consider danger to myself
The hole cracks, the once secure perimeter is eroded and a sink develops in an instant
I fall in
I am lost……
I am helpless
It IS my fault.
Where is the way out?
i walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i fall in
it is familiar and filled with bones
i sit in silence
II.
i walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i pretend I don’t see it.
i fall in again.
this time i plant a seed
and climb the branches of
our new willow tree
III.
i walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i see it is there.
i still fall in….it’s a habit.
we sit quietly reading
safe from those who would hurt us
IV.
i walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
i walk around it.
yearning for escape
V.
i walk down an all too familiar street.
We really like this description of your journey!
MissyMing
12/31/20
My holes are big.
My own fears are huge and hold me back.
My inability to trust anyone holds me back.
My withdrawal into my own mind, and the fact that I hide from everyone, holds me back.
I allow my past to hold me back. I let myself remain lost in flashbacks and body memories.
The fact that I know that I am no one to anybody holds me back.
The yelling in my head holds me back. I feel like I don’t deserve to fight it back, so of course it keeps going.
Basically, my biggest hole is me.
we dont like this poem but only becuse our old therpast loved it so much. her used to read it a lot so it make us hear her voice to read it .
but what i am wondering mabey can diffrent inside people be at diffrent places all at the same time?
like mabey caden be on V and missy be on I and some of us be on 2or 3 or 4.? but all at the same time?
Hi Kathy,
It’s very timely that I read this autobiographical poem, right now. (BTW, it’s always been one of my most very favorite healing lessons!) I, literally, just finished writing a post about my mother in Our Normal Complicated Selves, that has everything to do with this lesson.
This poem explains, exactly, what I just lived through, again, since allowing her back into my life.
I was at step #4, twice in my life, and I went back to step #3.
I was walking different streets for quite awhile. I went back to that damned street! It even helps me to say my mother is a HOLE IN MY STREET! I used to, when I had clarity, compare her to a drugs/alcohol/nicotine. Possibly, temporarily, satisfying but trouble ahead! Always a let-down. And if I kept using/communicating with her, it was a slippery slope!
Well, I’ve come to the end of that slippery slope for the hundredth time. I pray I never do it again. I will envision my mother as a HOLE! I will print this blog, post it and a picture, where I can see it, daily. Maybe a miniature in my wallet!
With mindfulness, I can divert my parts when they try to lead me in the wrong direction, by speaking about missing my mother. I will remind them/myself, “There is nothing to miss. It is an illusion, delusion even! (And I thought she was the delusional one!) She is a BLACKHOLE IN MY STREET! Do not fall into denial!!! I will not fall into the denial again. I will really, really, work on this. It is my ticket to freedom and true healing!
Thank you for posting this! <3
naturluvr
6/3/18
Sinkhole.
3/22/18
Kathy! You have an article about everything! I love it. And I really like Sam’s alters version of it above. The discussion that follows was intense and true. But for me/us I think the simple version of the poem is accurate as well as the deeper trauma/abuse survivor rendition.
And for us in the where are we question… we seem to be at all of them but the last. Some 1, some 2, and so on. And back and forth, and so on. lolz.
Thanks for showing us that. 🙂
We interpret this poem a little differently. To me when we see the hole, we don’t walk around it. We turn away right away and walk down another street once we have fallen in it a couple of times. We AVOID everything that is in hole. Then another hole winds up on the other street and the same thing happens and we end up just walking in circles trying to get away from holes. That is where we are in the healing process.
I can how the metaphor is intended with the focus being on changing patterns and becoming more aware, but we see it as avoidance by choosing to walk down another street instead of dealing with what is inside the hole and why it is there in the first place. So maybe it can be filled in so no one else can fall into it. This is where we remain stuck.
And to be honest we have absolutely no idea what it will take for us to walk down a street without any holes in it.
I’ve seen this poem around for a while. It is good. I usually am more aware these days, choose #IV or V now, but sometimes slip back into #III. Many of us child abuse survivors were originally THROWN INTO that hole. We had no choice. Since, it is what we’ve always known, it is hard to look at new options and make new decisions. But it IS possible.
This would be a great post for THE BLOG CARNIVAL AGAINST CHILD ABUSE, maybe under the “Healing & Therapy” category. Would you consider submitting it? We have a deadline for a 5/29 edition on Wednesday, 5/27. Details are at my blog (there’s a sidebar widget for easy access). Thanks, in advance, for considering.
Thanks, Kathy for your kind remarks.
I liked the natural expression of amazement (wow) the most 🙂
However, it wouldn’t be me the compensatorily grandiose alter showing off with his acquisitions of intimate knowledge of survivorship 🙂 🙂 :), if I were to miss an opportunity to teach another teacher/therapist a lesson or two – I just have to do it, sorry, it’s my job in the system to serve as compensatorily grandiose alter compensating for our worthlessness as person, isn’t it? I have to do it all the time to other teachers/therapists, as well, so you are not alone, Kathy, as I described here – click if you are interested 🙂 – about what is the most important thing done by my poem above.
So what was the most important thing done by my poem above, not IMHO, but rather IMTMBO (standing for “In My Too Much Bold Opinion”)?
It was not identifying the ways other parts in our system respond to the same holes (on the street, not in the body).
What was then done by my poem?
What was done was (literary) illustrating the process that was previously intellectually described by me in the following flow chart (click here to see it).
not by Sam (he is only the host and is not able to express his opinions/feelings, since worthless person’s opinions can not have any worth), but his compensatorily grandiose alter
What a wonderful lot of thoughtful, creative, caring work is up there. I had seen this one before and worked with it in one venue and you know, I just never really could relate to it somehow. I just couldn’t do the good work with it that a coworker was able to do. (long story.) It felt too concrete and simplistic to me then, as I look back on it now. As if it was so simple to learn to not fall in the hole . . . I like the new versions ALOT. Those I could have related to. Even back then so many years ago. I will be pondering all of this, but what I am thinking now is that this simple little seeming poem was really a big fat trigger for me then, and that I didn’t even know it. I just couldn’t “get” it and have enthusiasm for it . . and I think it relates to a lot of what is being discussed up there. So thank you all very much. I have some work to do on this. Blessings, me
-II. (or two steps ago) (by Sam’s alter)
I walk down the street.
There is a hole in the sidewalk.
I am tripped up by somebody.
I don’t like it.
I tell them it is disgusting what they do.
They say: “Oh, come on, it’s nothing.
You didn’t fall in the hole, didn’t you?”.
“They are right”, I think,
“It could be worse”.
I continue walking as if nothing happened.
-I. (or one step ago) (by Sam’s alter)
I walk down the street.
There is a hole in the sidewalk.
I get pushed so much I almost fall in the hole.
I am getting angry with them, but I hear:
“Why do you want to be angry now?
You didn’t yell when you were tripped up,
didn’t you? It’s no worse than before and
you didn’t do anything about it before,
didn’t you? So be quiet and go your way.”
“I did nothing before”, I think to myself
“they are right.” So I continue walking down
the street as if nothing happened.
zero level (or here we go) (by Sam’s alter)
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
This time I get pushed so much I do fall
in the hole.
I get scared.
I am afraid.
I climb out and want to tell other people
what happened. But will they listen?
If they do, they can help me,
but if they don’t…
I. (by Sam’s alter)
…I can’t talk to anyone about it.
I am alone. Only me and they
who can push me and step on me,
anytime.
I can’t hide.
They might be everywhere.
When I’m in a hole, they say,
“You can only allow it to happen.
You have already allowed it. So,
it’s your fault,
isn’t it?”
I can’t bear the thought of me being
guilty. Another part of me is born.
S/he picks up the self-blaming emotions
and continues walking down the street.
As if nothing happened.
II. (by Sam’s alter)
The self-blaming alter walks down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
The alter gets saddened because not even
one’s own body can be trusted around holes.
“The body has let me down once.
It can not be trusted again.”
However, the alter can’t bear the thought
of punishing the body for letting us down
in the first place.
Another part of me is born and s/he picks up
the self-injury/self-destructive feelings/behaviors
and continues walking down the street as if
nothing happened. To me. Or to the self-blaming
alter.
III.
The self-destructive alter walks down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
The self-destructive alter gets voluntarily
into the hole.
But the alter can not bear the thought of
letting them do what they want to the body.
Another part of me is born and s/he picks
up the let-them-do-it behavior and continues
walking down the street as if nothing happened.
To me. Or to the self-blaming alter. Or to the self-
destructive alter.
IV.
The let-them-do-it alter walks down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
The let-them-do-it alter jumps in the hole and
lets them do it, but can not bear the thought of
defending them (in case anyone accuses them
of anything) and/or of showing gratitude to them.
Another part of me is born and s/he picks
up the gratitude-showing behavior and
continues walking down the street as if
nothing happened. To me.
Or to the self-blaming alter.
Or to the self-destructive alter.
Or to the let-them-do-it alter.
V.
The gratitude-showing alter walks down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
The gratitude-showing alter stops by and shows
them gratitude for keeping the body alive,
but can not bear the thought of showing off with
the survivorship achievements.
Another part of me is born and s/he picks up the
showing-off-with-survivorship and continues walking
down the street as if nothing happened. To me.
Or to the self-blaming alter. Or to the self-destructive
alter. Or to the let-them-do-it alter. Or to the gratitude-
showing alter.
VI.
The showing-off-with-survivorship alter
walks down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
The alter must show the compensatory grandiosity
to those around him/her, however can not bear the
thought of having a personal worth just like everybody
has in the first place.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/22896359@N04/sets/72157613371028127/show/
wow, sam.
Thanks for sharing your version of this poem. I can see that you have been doing a lot of work with your system, and I like how you were able to identify how different parts of your system would respond differently to the same situation, including the need to split off and create new parts when the situations were too unbearable.
Very well done. Thanks for the post.
Kathy
I sometimes choose the wrong thing to do. I feel that sometimes it is my fault bad things happens because I know I can make diffrent chose. I choose to meet people that I know is bad and then bad things happens. Is that what poem mean when fall into hole? Things that happen when I was little I do not think is my fault. But now when I feel better and I be stronger if I still choose to go to bad people then I think it my fault in a way. But still I think it is not my fault men choose to abuse me, but I can choose to protect me self too. And if I do not do that then I help abuser do bad things…/D.
Hi Dragonhearts,
Thanks for the post —
You’ve made some good points. I think it is important to understand that adult survivors can make mistakes, even unintentionally, that leave them at a higher risk for getting hurt again. It’s just important to learn things that weren’t taught earlier in life, and to overcome the negative things that were taught by the abusers.
Yes, you can definitely choose to protect yourself and you can learn to make decisions that keep you safer around men. You are not responsible for the bad things done by bad men, but you can certainly learn to make decisions that will keep you further away from those kind of bad men in the first place. Learning to choose to protect yourself is definitely going to help you stay out of those holes! 🙂
Keep up all the good work — well done!
Kathy
Hi Kathy,
While I can see how you would use the poem as an opening for discussion, for many of us, the discussion wouldn’t be heard. All they would see is the lines “It’s my fault” and all of the messages that were said by the abusers would be reinforced. There would be an immediate identification with the words of the poem and those that agree with that viewpoint would be the presenting voice within the session.
This is what happened when we were read this poem in the Mindfulness course. After the therapist/course instructor read out the poem, we blocked out everything else she said. She had become another abuser who told us that we enjoyed the abuse, that we were evil and it was our fault it was happening. Because others in the course did identify with the poem for other reasons, this reinforced the message that it was our fault.
It wasn’t until about 3 years after the poem was read that we questioned the validity of the wording for our experience.
I like gobbies and moreheads re-working of the poem…
But I still wonder whether it is appropriate for dissociative clients where the wording could trigger so many responses without any outward sign of it occurring? Is there another tool that would be better used to bring up the issues that you were wanting to work on?
Take care…
Hi castorgirl,
Thank you for your comment.
I would think — hope! — that any therapist working in the trauma field would be immediately sensitive to the wordings in verse III, and would check about that, and start a discussion about it right in the beginning of presenting the poem. Especially if no one else brought up the topic, then the therapist needs to bring up the topic. It’s not something to ignore.
I do think there are a number of different but important concepts to identify with in that poem (or any poem), but when a poem specifically uses the phrase “it was my fault”, it cannot be ignored within this setting.
This is a situation where I tend to gravitate towards challenging the trigger head-on instead of shying away from it. We all know that abusers blame the victims — if there is nothing common between two different abusive stories, there will at least be the common thread that the perpetrator is blaming the victim. So the whole issue of “fault” has to be discussed over and over and over again as it would have been internalized a few zillion times. In reality, abuse is, of course, the “fault” of the perpetrators. It’s a crime, and no matter what they said to you, they probably should be in jail for what they did.
So…. let’s move to the discussion of why you might still believe that the abuse was your fault. How is this a tender point for you? What has happened that you (or parts of you) believe that you were at fault, or that you were “evil” or that you enjoyed it? What happened to convince you that those things could possibly be true? What kinds of things did your perps say to you to convince you they were innocent and you were not? What will it take for you to know without a shadow of a doubt that what your perps said to you was wrong? Was there anything that was even partially “enjoyable” about the abuse? (I know THAT is a tender area, but still a valid question.)
You don’t have to answer those questions here in the public-ness of this blog if you don’t want to, but I do encourage you to think about them, and to journal about them, or talk to your T about it, etc.
Thanks for the post – keep at the hard work…..
Kathy
Maybe these changes?
Preamble:
I’d been told to stay low, out of sight.
Harassed and haired for a child’s life time.
I just know it’s my fault.
One day I rise seeing.
Open a door and walk out.
I.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in
I am lost……
I am helpless
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
I+
I walk down the street.
There’s a deep hole.
I jump.
It’s an old familiar darkness.
I stay a long time.
One day light above shines.
It catches my attention.
I climb out faultless.
II.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
but, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in….it’s a habit.
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
IV.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V.
I walk down another street.
Ravin
THERE’S A HOLE IN MY SIDEWALK
Autobiography in Short Chapters by Portia Nelson
Updated By Gobbies
I.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in
I am lost……
I am helpless
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
II.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
but, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I greet it as a familiar friend
I fall in again.
I feel safer now that I am in the same place.
I don’t know any other way
So, it isn’t my fault.
It takes everything I have to want to get out.
IV.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I know it is not really a familiar friend, but it still draws me in
I fall in again.
Outside is scary but I don’t want it to be
I know I can learn
It isn’t my fault, but it is my responsibility
It still takes a long time to get out.
V.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in….it’s a habit.
my eyes are open.
I know where I am and where I want to be.
It is my responsibility.
I own my mistake and I get out immediately.
VI.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
VII.
I walk down another street.
VIII.
I go back to that street.
I go to the hole with ladder in hand.
I teach new ways to the others who are stuck.
IX.
The hole is defeated.
Whoops, I hit send before I was quite finished. You said:
In my work with trauma survivors, I can see how there is an application to verse III of this “Holes” poem, but I would prefer very different words from “It is my fault.”
That being the case — that you would prefer different words — why use this poem at all? Sorry if I sound reactionary, but right here you’re agreeing that the language is inappropriate to trauma survivors, after having suggested that the poem is applicable to trauma survivors.
Perhaps I’m splitting hairs, and if so, I apologize; it’s entirely possible that I’m not seeing your point as clearly as I ought to.
Oh, these are good changes to the poem! Gobbies, Moreheads, I really like how you’ve both taken this poem and made the edits / changes to it that make it a better fit for you. Well done!
Davidrochester,
Thanks for your comments and questions. I’d use this poem because it creates a discussion, just as in what you are seeing in this thread. I don’t think that a poem (or a book, or a movie, or a tv show) has to fit perfectly to be useful as a therapeutic tool. In fact, some of the most useful therapeutic information surfaces at the points where the poem doesn’t fit. And everyone interprets these kinds of writings in their own unique way, and they’ll get stuck on, or emphasize different areas of the poem as it relates to them as an individual person. In that sense, there is no one response to this poem, and seeing how each individual responds to it opens the door for important therapeutic work.
With you, for example, I’d launch into a detailed discussion with you for what that line in verse III, “it’s my fault” means to you. I’d ask you questions about how the lines “it’s not my fault” from verses I and II connect with you, and how verse III feels different. And, then I’d shift the discussion to include more about how that applies to your own life and experiences, and we’d talk more about your feelings of being blamed for your abuse, and/or your feelings of self-blame for your abuse. I don’t know what the answers are, in this discussion, but I can see that’s a real tender point for you, so… I’d just talk more about it with you.
I hope that helps!
Thanks for the posts, everyone.
Kathy
Yes, that makes perfect sense, and I hope it’s an explanation you would give if this poem were to be used therapeutically. What I’m saying is that without that explanation, I think the intended message could easily be misunderstood.
We were read this poem in a Mindfulness course that we attended a couple of years ago. Many people on the course related to it, and so did we on one level.
However, the biggest issue many of us have with it is that it starts out saying that “It isn’t my fault”. We ALWAYS thought the abuse and what we experienced was our fault. Many within still think that it is and was…
So while I agree with the concept of poem wanting to challenging the way in which you do things and needing to do the work in order to move forward; we have issues with the terminology used to portray that message. We did an entry about this poem awhile ago…
Take care…
While I’ve always thought that this piece is a useful metaphor for learning to make new choices, I don’t think it’s particularly useful as a lesson to dissociative trauma survivors. I think those survivors suffer enough guilt and displaced responsibility without being led to think that the holes they fall into are their “fault.” I think that for a dissociative survivor in a fragile state, the self-blaming language of “fault” is likely to overshadow the greater point of the piece.
Thanks for the comments, davidrochester and castorgirl,
The idea of “fault” is a tricky one, I totally agree with that. I don’t think that trauma survivors are “at fault” for having been traumatized or abused, especially as children, and for that matter, even adult-aged abuse very often isn’t the “fault” of the survivor. Yes, that includes you too, castorgirl. I haven’t yet read your entry about this poem (I will soon!), but I cannot imagine how any of the trauma you experienced was your fault. Children are never to blame for the bad behavior of adults.
For that matter, genuine abuse is a crime, and the survivor is not “at fault” for the crimes of others. The perpetrators are to blame — it is the “fault” of the perpetrators. The perpetrators performed the abusive acts with their very own behavior, so it is their fault, regardless of the way they try to throw blame on others.
In my work with trauma survivors, I can see how there is an application to verse III of this “Holes” poem, but I would prefer very different words from “It is my fault.” I prefer the words “responsibility and accountability”. Let me emphasize again, I do not think abuse is EVER the fault of the victim/survivor. However, there is a point in the healing process, as survivors become older and more adult and more healed, that the survivors themselves can become more capable — and can genuinely have more responsibility to themselves to figure out what they can do to be more effective in preventing ongoing and future abuse, and to not stay stuck in the negative effects of their abuse.
So… while I do not think that survivors are to blame for their abuse — and I adamantly think that — I do think that survivors have a responsibility for themselves and their loved ones to do their healing work, to genuinely address how being a victim of crimes has negatively affected their lives, and to create a safer, less traumatized life.
Severe trauma and abuse can cause problems that domino from one person to another, spilling from one generation to another. While it is “not fair” that the crime victim is left to clean up the mess, it is still the right thing to do, especially when other people (and other children) are feeling the effects of that abuse in their lives as well.
If I could make the perpetratprs clean up all the messes they created, I would. (believe me, I don’t think the perps pay anywhere near a high enough price for the crimes they committed!!). But the healing process belongs to the survivors.
So while survivors are not to blame for their abuse in any way (they did not create the holes in their sidewalks), but they are responsible for addressing issues related to the “holes” that were created in their own life, and for finding better ways to navigate around them.
Make sense??
Kathy
I think I need to add another step to make it fit for me. Where is the step where you just sit down in the hole and don’t bother trying to get out because really it is rather comfy and not scary down here…..
oh gobbies — good point!!!!
Lots of people do get comfy with sitting in that hole. It becomes familiar, and getting out of the hole becomes the scary bit….
Do you have an entire poetic verse to go along with your thought?
Kathy
Oh wow! I have been looking for this for so long, thank you for posting this. A high school health class teacher of mine shared it with my class and it meant so much to me back then. I’ve been forever trying to remember how it went, it’s so good to see it again. I think this is one of those things I’m going to print out and tack up on my bulletin board so I don’t lose it again. Great follow up questions too.
Hi Annenco,
Thanks for your post.
I think this poem is great, thought-provoking, challenging, insightful — I hope it inspires you over and over…..
Thanks for stopping by — I hope you come back again!
Kathy