...was my childhood plea. Help me! Listen to whats happening!
I cried out to my mother and my brothers...Hear me!..., but they told me to shut up!
I cried out to my relatives....Hear me!..., but they turned away.
I cried out to neighbors and friends...Hear me!..., but they closed their eyes and ears to the abuse.
I cried out to my childhood therapist...Hear me!..., but she didn't listen.
I cried out to God and to the Universe...Hear me!..., but if God indeed replied, I couldn't hear Him over the roar of my own internal misery.
I didn't have a voice; therefore, it felt like I had no value.
Long into adulthood, I cried out - "Hear me!"...until somebody heard.
I "hear" it all the time; people want to be heard about the trauma in their lives. Validation dissolves our isolation and moves us forward to the life we deserve!
I believe that our deepest childhood wounds are the last to be healed; mine was not being heard.
In the past 15 years I have received a great deal of validation for my childhood abuse. In that respect I feel fully heard. Yet, in some respects the old wound remains. For instance, in an intimate relationship, if we have a disagreement and I don't feel heard, my old childhood wound "hooks" me in a primal sort of desperation to be heard and I lose perspective.
This relates to my prior post (Being Right - Being Wrong - Being Confident). I want to be right about needing to being heard! After all, it makes sense; I should be heard.
What I'm learning now is that there is a difference in the right/wrong scenario between blame and responsibility. Blame is about the past. Responsibility is about the present.
I think it is appropriate to "blame" the adults in my life for my childhood abuse and not being heard. As a minor, I had no say in the matter. But, once I became an adult, I became responsible for my life, my choices, and my relationships, no matter how ill-equipped I started out my life.
I'm responsible to heal my old wounds - not anyone else. Logically, this makes good sense, but when I need to be heard, good sense often flies out the window.
I'm working at self-nurturing again to heal this old wound. I'm learning to stand confidently in my truth by listening to myself and having a dialogue with my inner child - even when someone else doesn't hear me.
This is a slow, but empowering shift......
Showing posts with label adult child abuse survivor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adult child abuse survivor. Show all posts
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Survival Tactics - Peeling Away the Layers
Peeling away my built-in survival tactics has been and continues to be a life-long process.
Although I didn't know it at the time, I used many survival tactics as a child. During adulthood, I became aware of numerous ways in which the "child me" ensured my continued existence: denial, dissociation, inability to feel, stepping in as the family mother, etc.
I am certain that the exact mechanisms that save our lives as children, harm us as adults. Recently, I was amazed to learn that the very rhythm of my life is part and parcel of one of my childhood survival tactics. But, I'll get to that.
Undoing life-long mechanisms is a very difficult undertaking. Awareness is the first step, but even when we become aware, it is hard to let go.
As I've peeled away each method of survival, I've thanked the child me for keeping us alive and reassured her that the adult me can "take it from here." Twenty years ago, denial was the first to go. I say that as if it happened overnight. On the contrary; I spent more than ten adult years in denial. Not denial over the facts: daily beatings, burning my 10-year old hands, thrown down the stairs, stabbed with a fork, etc., but rather, "Is that really so bad?"
As a dependent child, denial protected me from that which was too painful to bear. As an adult, denial kept me in harms way. I had to "shake myself" free from denial in order to protect myself from further abuse and to heal. Ridding myself of denial opened the door to validation, expressing my anger, and moving from victim to survivor.
Then, another hidden survival tactic revealed itself: dissociation. As an adult, dissociation not only covered up the pain of my past, it was such a intricate part of my make-up that it also masked painful situations in the present. Pain has a purpose; it warns us of impending injury and is a useful resource for protecting ourselves.
I dissociated for twenty-five years before I learned about this part of myself. Today, I can identify the day when, at ten years old, I laid the groundwork for dissociation. For some reason, I could handle my own abuse far better than helplessly watching as my brothers were beaten.
One day, months after my mother married my step father Ed, for no apparent reason, he unleashed his rage on my sweet and innocent five-year old brother Randy.
The harsh command, "Grab 'em, Randy" thundered through the kitchen. Little Randy immediately complied, bent over, and grabbed his tiny ankles. I watched with horror as the blow cracked across my baby brother's small behind. Randy jumped, screamed with pain, and grabbed his burning buttocks.
Ed turned on him with renewed fury, and informed him he had just broken the new rule of letting go of his ankles without permission.
"Just for that," Ed screamed in undisguised rage, "you'll get two more," and with that hauled off with the heavy wooden paddle, hitting him again. Little Randy flew across the kitchen and landed face first on the cold linoleum floor in a dark corner of the room, crying but still holding onto his ankles. Ed grabbed my terrified brother around the waist while Randy's hands remained locked around his ankles, set him upright, and administered the second blow.
I stood trance-like without moving a muscle, unable to help, powerless to prevent the next beating. I imagined myself safe in my room, away from the scene of the pain.
As the daily violence escalated, this dissociative groundwork morphed into "fugues" where I unknowingly disappeared to an unknown place. These "fugues" continued into adulthood whenever I experienced unbearable pain.
Once I learned about my dissociation, I spent years letting go of this old method of keeping the pain at bay.
Once I stopped dissociating, I went about the hard work of peeling away another survival tactic - not feeling. I learned to stay present with my emotions, rather than "powering" through the pain. This meant something new for me. Rather than ignoring my feelings, I sat with my anger, depression and sadness for days or months on end in order to resolve my circumstances. I was in very unfamiliar territory.
For instance, I dropped my familiar "tough guy" persona and mourned past and current losses. This change allowed me to "deal" and affect changes in my life rather than "suck up" an ever-increasing and suffocating mountain of pain.
At times it sucks to feel pain in a "normal" way. It also feels "freeing" and healthy. The past few years have brought relief to feel unencumbered by my past. All my hard work paid dividends in that I feel empowered to safeguard my own well-being.
Imagine my surprise when a new survival tactic reared its head and bit me in the ......
This survival mechanism is the part of me I call "computer girl." Of course, computer girl has her roots in my childhood. There was no one to take care of us and bring the much-needed order and cohesiveness into our lives. I learned to ignore my body, while I "powered through" and did what ever it took for my psyche to survive. After all, when your body is ravaged by abuse, it is accustomed to a normal state of physical pain and stress. So, computer girl took over and has continued to rule my life.
From the moment I wake up each day, "computer girl" boots up and races to organize my every movement, project, and all of the responsibilities I have collected along the way: I have to do this.....and that...and this...and this... work, home, family, friends, writing, recovery...This is how I can solve this problem at work....churn, churn, churn...This is how I can create this system at work..churn, churn, churn, This is how I can write this...churn, churn, churn...don't forget this appointment, that social event, resolve this...churn, churn, churn, etc.. until I go to bed.
Finally, at the brink of total exhaustion, I have to listen to my body. Am I tired? Run down? Stressed? Affecting my health? The answer to all of these questions is, "Yes!"
It's time to find a new rhythm for my life; to bring my mind and body into sync. I've had to tell computer girl - the wounded child - that she can still use her organizational skills, but she can no longer be in the drivers seat. The "adult me" is going to take control and care for us both. Computer girl is resisting.
It is a very uncomfortable process to listen to the body I've ignored all my life.
As I struggle to peel away another survival mechanism, just as before, I want instant results. But alas - change takes time.....
Although I didn't know it at the time, I used many survival tactics as a child. During adulthood, I became aware of numerous ways in which the "child me" ensured my continued existence: denial, dissociation, inability to feel, stepping in as the family mother, etc.
I am certain that the exact mechanisms that save our lives as children, harm us as adults. Recently, I was amazed to learn that the very rhythm of my life is part and parcel of one of my childhood survival tactics. But, I'll get to that.
Undoing life-long mechanisms is a very difficult undertaking. Awareness is the first step, but even when we become aware, it is hard to let go.
As I've peeled away each method of survival, I've thanked the child me for keeping us alive and reassured her that the adult me can "take it from here." Twenty years ago, denial was the first to go. I say that as if it happened overnight. On the contrary; I spent more than ten adult years in denial. Not denial over the facts: daily beatings, burning my 10-year old hands, thrown down the stairs, stabbed with a fork, etc., but rather, "Is that really so bad?"
As a dependent child, denial protected me from that which was too painful to bear. As an adult, denial kept me in harms way. I had to "shake myself" free from denial in order to protect myself from further abuse and to heal. Ridding myself of denial opened the door to validation, expressing my anger, and moving from victim to survivor.
Then, another hidden survival tactic revealed itself: dissociation. As an adult, dissociation not only covered up the pain of my past, it was such a intricate part of my make-up that it also masked painful situations in the present. Pain has a purpose; it warns us of impending injury and is a useful resource for protecting ourselves.
I dissociated for twenty-five years before I learned about this part of myself. Today, I can identify the day when, at ten years old, I laid the groundwork for dissociation. For some reason, I could handle my own abuse far better than helplessly watching as my brothers were beaten.
One day, months after my mother married my step father Ed, for no apparent reason, he unleashed his rage on my sweet and innocent five-year old brother Randy.
The harsh command, "Grab 'em, Randy" thundered through the kitchen. Little Randy immediately complied, bent over, and grabbed his tiny ankles. I watched with horror as the blow cracked across my baby brother's small behind. Randy jumped, screamed with pain, and grabbed his burning buttocks.
Ed turned on him with renewed fury, and informed him he had just broken the new rule of letting go of his ankles without permission.
"Just for that," Ed screamed in undisguised rage, "you'll get two more," and with that hauled off with the heavy wooden paddle, hitting him again. Little Randy flew across the kitchen and landed face first on the cold linoleum floor in a dark corner of the room, crying but still holding onto his ankles. Ed grabbed my terrified brother around the waist while Randy's hands remained locked around his ankles, set him upright, and administered the second blow.
I stood trance-like without moving a muscle, unable to help, powerless to prevent the next beating. I imagined myself safe in my room, away from the scene of the pain.
As the daily violence escalated, this dissociative groundwork morphed into "fugues" where I unknowingly disappeared to an unknown place. These "fugues" continued into adulthood whenever I experienced unbearable pain.
Once I learned about my dissociation, I spent years letting go of this old method of keeping the pain at bay.
Once I stopped dissociating, I went about the hard work of peeling away another survival tactic - not feeling. I learned to stay present with my emotions, rather than "powering" through the pain. This meant something new for me. Rather than ignoring my feelings, I sat with my anger, depression and sadness for days or months on end in order to resolve my circumstances. I was in very unfamiliar territory.
For instance, I dropped my familiar "tough guy" persona and mourned past and current losses. This change allowed me to "deal" and affect changes in my life rather than "suck up" an ever-increasing and suffocating mountain of pain.
At times it sucks to feel pain in a "normal" way. It also feels "freeing" and healthy. The past few years have brought relief to feel unencumbered by my past. All my hard work paid dividends in that I feel empowered to safeguard my own well-being.
Imagine my surprise when a new survival tactic reared its head and bit me in the ......
This survival mechanism is the part of me I call "computer girl." Of course, computer girl has her roots in my childhood. There was no one to take care of us and bring the much-needed order and cohesiveness into our lives. I learned to ignore my body, while I "powered through" and did what ever it took for my psyche to survive. After all, when your body is ravaged by abuse, it is accustomed to a normal state of physical pain and stress. So, computer girl took over and has continued to rule my life.
From the moment I wake up each day, "computer girl" boots up and races to organize my every movement, project, and all of the responsibilities I have collected along the way: I have to do this.....and that...and this...and this... work, home, family, friends, writing, recovery...This is how I can solve this problem at work....churn, churn, churn...This is how I can create this system at work..churn, churn, churn, This is how I can write this...churn, churn, churn...don't forget this appointment, that social event, resolve this...churn, churn, churn, etc.. until I go to bed.
Finally, at the brink of total exhaustion, I have to listen to my body. Am I tired? Run down? Stressed? Affecting my health? The answer to all of these questions is, "Yes!"
It's time to find a new rhythm for my life; to bring my mind and body into sync. I've had to tell computer girl - the wounded child - that she can still use her organizational skills, but she can no longer be in the drivers seat. The "adult me" is going to take control and care for us both. Computer girl is resisting.
It is a very uncomfortable process to listen to the body I've ignored all my life.
As I struggle to peel away another survival mechanism, just as before, I want instant results. But alas - change takes time.....
Sunday, May 31, 2009
The Shack
Popular stories of "instant" forgiveness always concern me. The Shack, by William P. Young is no exception.
When I began reading The Shack, the author captivated me with a compelling story that began by briefly outlining a tale of family violence and estrangement. Mack, the central character, left home at the age of thirteen after spending two days tied to a tree while being beaten by his father for telling the "family secret" to a church elder.
Mack adapted to life on his own quickly, and journeyed forward by "burying" his past. As an adult, he opened his heart to create a new loving family with his wife and children - only to have an unspeakable tragedy strike again - the kidnapping and murder of his six-year old daughter.
Young eloquently captures the human spirit in Mack's questioning of how God could allow such a tragedy to befall His innocent children. He further questions if he can open his heart and trust his Heavenly Father, when his human father hurt him so deeply.
The author held my interest with the mysterious letter from Papa (God) inviting Mack back to the shack where he experienced the darkest moment of his past; the shack where he discovered confirming evidence of his daughters murder. Was this a sick joke? A trap set by the murderer? Or, a message from God?
Once inside the shack however, the story took on a "New-Age" detour that offered Band-Aid type platitudes and simplistic catch-phrases, rather than surgery for the soul.
The author does share some "pearls of wisdom" - especially in the messages of God's love for His people. Much of what he says in this regard is true; however, he dismisses any notion that God is just, fair, or has any rules, laws, or expectations; when in fact, our God of the Bible is both loving and just.
Which leads me to forgiveness: Again, the author offers some "pearls of wisdom" in that forgiveness is not about excusing, forgetting, trusting, or even necessarily reconciliation. Nonetheless, the god of The Shack sidesteps any prerequisites such as confession, repentance, restitution, and justice (Luke 17:3 - Be on your guard! If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive).
After more than a days worth of conversations with Papa (God), Jesus, and Sarayu (The Holy Spirit) on the general principles of love, Sarayu heals Mack's human eyes so that he can see as God sees. As Mack looks out over a sea of God's children in the form of beautiful color and light, he notices one agitated light. When Sarayu reveals that light as Mack's dead father, he runs to embrace him in joyous forgiveness and reconciliation.
A few chapters later, Mack repeats this "magical" sort of forgiveness for the man who murdered his daughter even though we see no evidence of Mack working to heal his loss or deal with the injustice. Further, the murderer was never identified, caught, or tried for his crime.
Yet, within the space of a short conversation with Papa (God), Mack traveled the emotional distance from his desire for revenge to forgiveness:
Papa to Mack: "...You already know what I want, don't you?" (Kindle version, location 3573)
"Papa," he cried, "how can I ever forgive that son of a bitch who killed my Missy. If he were here today, I don't know what I would do. I know it isn't right, but I want him to hurt like he hurt me...if I can't get justice I still want revenge." (Kindle version - location 3576)
After Papa and Mack engage in a discussion on the power and necessity of forgiveness, Mack says out loud:
"I forgive you. I forgive you . I forgive you." (Kindle version - location 3629)
Then, Mack asks, "So, is it all right if I'm still angry?"
Papa was quick to respond "Absolutely!..." (location 3634)
This sort of inauthentic forgiveness places an unrealistic burden on those who are unable to forgive by "magic." In the words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, "cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance." Additionally, it cheapens the journey for trauma survivors who have done the hard work to heal and possibly even forgive. (See Forgiveness and Abuse).
While it is true that forgiveness is made manifest by the love and grace of God, forgiveness requires our participation in the process. One of the dangers of encouraging premature forgiveness is that it usually doesn't last; thereby impeding genuine healing and forgiveness. Another danger is using premature forgiveness as a method of avoiding the truth, and feelings, or emotions that are too painful to "examine."
If we follow Christ's example, even Jesus expressed 27 verses of anger in Matthew 23:13-39 before going to the cross. If we hope to permanently forgive, expressing anger is an important part of the process. Additionally, it is interesting to note that Jesus did not utter the words, "I forgive you," Himself, but rather, He asked His Father who remained all powerful to forgive the unrepentant. ("Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." Luke 23:34)
The true gift of forgiveness is in the spiritual and emotional growth we experience during an authentic healing process. God's power is truly fulfilled when the offender repents, the victim forgives, and both participate in the process. In the absence of repentance, forgiveness is not an obligation on the part of someone who has been harmed, but can take place with adequate healing.
As an abuse survivor, I for one, wouldn't trade the lessons I've learned by creating the space necessary to heal. Lessons about trusting others to validate my pain, anger, and sadness; trusting myself to safe-guard my own well-being; to respond appropriately to betrayal and injustice; to remain present with my feelings; to set boundaries; practice self-care, and take responsibility for my life. Through it all, I have experienced proof of God's love for me. All these "gifts" and more would have been lost with "false," premature, or instantaneous forgiveness, as well as undercut tangible, realistic, long-term solutions for real human suffering.
Forgiveness is not an event of immediacy. It's not a bolt of light that brightens the soul and burns the pain to ashes. Forgiveness is a slow transformational process. Hard earned life-lessons take a great deal of time and grueling work!
God doesn't promise to heal us by "magic," but rather invites us to trust that His Love and Grace will carry us through as we participate in our own healing journey.
When I began reading The Shack, the author captivated me with a compelling story that began by briefly outlining a tale of family violence and estrangement. Mack, the central character, left home at the age of thirteen after spending two days tied to a tree while being beaten by his father for telling the "family secret" to a church elder.
Mack adapted to life on his own quickly, and journeyed forward by "burying" his past. As an adult, he opened his heart to create a new loving family with his wife and children - only to have an unspeakable tragedy strike again - the kidnapping and murder of his six-year old daughter.
Young eloquently captures the human spirit in Mack's questioning of how God could allow such a tragedy to befall His innocent children. He further questions if he can open his heart and trust his Heavenly Father, when his human father hurt him so deeply.
The author held my interest with the mysterious letter from Papa (God) inviting Mack back to the shack where he experienced the darkest moment of his past; the shack where he discovered confirming evidence of his daughters murder. Was this a sick joke? A trap set by the murderer? Or, a message from God?
Once inside the shack however, the story took on a "New-Age" detour that offered Band-Aid type platitudes and simplistic catch-phrases, rather than surgery for the soul.
The author does share some "pearls of wisdom" - especially in the messages of God's love for His people. Much of what he says in this regard is true; however, he dismisses any notion that God is just, fair, or has any rules, laws, or expectations; when in fact, our God of the Bible is both loving and just.
Which leads me to forgiveness: Again, the author offers some "pearls of wisdom" in that forgiveness is not about excusing, forgetting, trusting, or even necessarily reconciliation. Nonetheless, the god of The Shack sidesteps any prerequisites such as confession, repentance, restitution, and justice (Luke 17:3 - Be on your guard! If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive).
After more than a days worth of conversations with Papa (God), Jesus, and Sarayu (The Holy Spirit) on the general principles of love, Sarayu heals Mack's human eyes so that he can see as God sees. As Mack looks out over a sea of God's children in the form of beautiful color and light, he notices one agitated light. When Sarayu reveals that light as Mack's dead father, he runs to embrace him in joyous forgiveness and reconciliation.
A few chapters later, Mack repeats this "magical" sort of forgiveness for the man who murdered his daughter even though we see no evidence of Mack working to heal his loss or deal with the injustice. Further, the murderer was never identified, caught, or tried for his crime.
Yet, within the space of a short conversation with Papa (God), Mack traveled the emotional distance from his desire for revenge to forgiveness:
Papa to Mack: "...You already know what I want, don't you?" (Kindle version, location 3573)
"Papa," he cried, "how can I ever forgive that son of a bitch who killed my Missy. If he were here today, I don't know what I would do. I know it isn't right, but I want him to hurt like he hurt me...if I can't get justice I still want revenge." (Kindle version - location 3576)
After Papa and Mack engage in a discussion on the power and necessity of forgiveness, Mack says out loud:
"I forgive you. I forgive you . I forgive you." (Kindle version - location 3629)
Then, Mack asks, "So, is it all right if I'm still angry?"
Papa was quick to respond "Absolutely!..." (location 3634)
This sort of inauthentic forgiveness places an unrealistic burden on those who are unable to forgive by "magic." In the words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, "cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance." Additionally, it cheapens the journey for trauma survivors who have done the hard work to heal and possibly even forgive. (See Forgiveness and Abuse).
While it is true that forgiveness is made manifest by the love and grace of God, forgiveness requires our participation in the process. One of the dangers of encouraging premature forgiveness is that it usually doesn't last; thereby impeding genuine healing and forgiveness. Another danger is using premature forgiveness as a method of avoiding the truth, and feelings, or emotions that are too painful to "examine."
If we follow Christ's example, even Jesus expressed 27 verses of anger in Matthew 23:13-39 before going to the cross. If we hope to permanently forgive, expressing anger is an important part of the process. Additionally, it is interesting to note that Jesus did not utter the words, "I forgive you," Himself, but rather, He asked His Father who remained all powerful to forgive the unrepentant. ("Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." Luke 23:34)
The true gift of forgiveness is in the spiritual and emotional growth we experience during an authentic healing process. God's power is truly fulfilled when the offender repents, the victim forgives, and both participate in the process. In the absence of repentance, forgiveness is not an obligation on the part of someone who has been harmed, but can take place with adequate healing.
As an abuse survivor, I for one, wouldn't trade the lessons I've learned by creating the space necessary to heal. Lessons about trusting others to validate my pain, anger, and sadness; trusting myself to safe-guard my own well-being; to respond appropriately to betrayal and injustice; to remain present with my feelings; to set boundaries; practice self-care, and take responsibility for my life. Through it all, I have experienced proof of God's love for me. All these "gifts" and more would have been lost with "false," premature, or instantaneous forgiveness, as well as undercut tangible, realistic, long-term solutions for real human suffering.
Forgiveness is not an event of immediacy. It's not a bolt of light that brightens the soul and burns the pain to ashes. Forgiveness is a slow transformational process. Hard earned life-lessons take a great deal of time and grueling work!
God doesn't promise to heal us by "magic," but rather invites us to trust that His Love and Grace will carry us through as we participate in our own healing journey.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Filling the Void
As an abused child and later as an adult, I spent most of my life navigating a relationship with my mother, waiting for the day she would love and nurture me. Even after our estrangement, I lived with the hopeful longing that she would open her arms and be my mother.
There was a "void" in my heart where a mother should be. After time, I stopped longing for "my" mother and began to long for "a" mother.
As more time passed, I realized that the only person who could love me the way I wanted to be loved - was me.
The void I was feeling was more than just the absence of my mother, it was also the absence of my own internal mother.
No parent can do a perfect job; therefore, everyone needs to learn to parent certain parts of themselves. The difference for me was, whereas most people have much of their internal parent placed within them by the loving actions of their own parent, an abuse survivor, needs to internalize a parent largely on their own.
There was a "void" in my heart where a mother should be. After time, I stopped longing for "my" mother and began to long for "a" mother.
As more time passed, I realized that the only person who could love me the way I wanted to be loved - was me.
The void I was feeling was more than just the absence of my mother, it was also the absence of my own internal mother.
No parent can do a perfect job; therefore, everyone needs to learn to parent certain parts of themselves. The difference for me was, whereas most people have much of their internal parent placed within them by the loving actions of their own parent, an abuse survivor, needs to internalize a parent largely on their own.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse
The March edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is up at My Clouds, My Storms and Multiple Personality Disorder.
The theme for this month's carnival is "Telling the Secret." What a great topic!
The theme for this month's carnival is "Telling the Secret." What a great topic!
Friday, February 6, 2009
The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse
Welcome to the February, 2008 edition of
The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse!
Poetry
Mary's poems quite often touch the vulnerable little girl in me. Today, she shares a simple poem that speaks volumes about the lasting pain of childhood sexual abuse titled, The Past How it Makes Me Weep posted at Nippercat's Home. Thank you Mary, for sharing your brave voice.
Healing and Therapy
Faith Hoffen, of Hope for Coping with Traumatic Stress joins us with two posts straight from the heart. In her first, titled This is a Safe Place, Faith generously offers a safe, compassionate ear. For her second post, I Choose to Forgive, Faith says, "This post is about my choice to forgive, and struggle to heal." She makes it clear that forgiveness isn't about forgetting. It is all about her, and isn't a free pass for her abusers! Kudos for making it about what is best for you, Faith!
The next contribution is from Colleen, of Surviving by Grace. Colleen joins in with a beautiful, healing post titled, A Beloved Daughter. Like Colleen, I know many other survivors who "wince" at the phrase "God the Father." Thank you Colleen, for sharing the tender way in which you are healing this wound.
Little Sheep, of My (Sick and Ugly) Story, offers a gripping poem to our collection. She says Don't Call the Psychiatrist Yet "is a sorta poem, but i think it goes in healing and therapy more than poetry. i'm so glad i found the community of child abuse bloggers..." Welcome Little Sheep! We are glad you found us too.
JIP, from Life Spacings sent in a list of wise therapy guidelines that she learned the hard way - through experience, in her post, Top Ten Most Valuable Therapy Tips. Thanks for passing on these hard earned lessons!
In another wonderful post packed with helpful tips, Girl Anachronism, from the blog of the same name, presents, Some of the Things I do to Stay Grounded During Crisis. Wow! Great pictures. Great Ideas. Everyone should check these out! Way to take care of yourself GA!
Girl Anachronism, also offers another beautiful post titled, Creating a Safe Space. She says, "This post is the result of an art therapy assignment for which I was given a box in which to create a safe space." Again, her creativity is incredible!
Holly, from Woman Tribune, offers a DVD review from her perspective as a survivor in her post, DVD Review: Healing Sex. Holly said, "'Healing Sex' is an educational film that presents verbal and physical exercises to help establish trust and intimacy in relationships after trauma." Thank you Holly!
Mike McBride from Child Abuse Survivor, sent in a thought-provoking post titled, Outliers and Emotional Intelligence about the ability to successfully navigate life. I think this one will strike a cord with most survivors.
In my own post, Hope for the Future, I reach back to comfort and reassure the less-healed and more fearful me that she does indeed have a peaceful future to look forward to.
Aftermath
In order to protect the vulnerable and deal with injustice, every society must construct and understand the rules a community is to live by. Marcella Chester of abyss2hope, offers her debate over the definition of "consent" in her post No Clear Presence Of Non-Consent. Thank you for your powerful advocacy, Marcella!
In another post regarding "Non-Consent," Enola, from her blog of the same name, offers What I learned from Romance Novels. She said, "I hope that women everywhere will consider the effect that romance novels have on them, and on their children. It is amazing the things that young girls pick up from the books they read and the shows they watch. We, as parents, have an obligation to consider that. Now that I have both a son, and a daughter, I will be watching from more than one perspective." About her subsequent post, Raising a Son - a New Perspective, Enola says, "This is a follow-up to my first submission - looking at things from another viewpoint." Thank you, Enola for two great posts!
Our Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse founder, Marj aka Thriver, presents A Dissociative "Doh!" Marj said, "I am still caught quite off guard with some of the aftermath I deal with from my childhood abuse, trauma and subsequent dissociative disorder. What things resulting from your childhood trauma still sneak up and surprise you?" Great question Marj!
Survivor Stories
Mile 191 of Come into My Closet, joins us with The Rape - Trigger Warning!
She included her blog heading with her submission: come into my closet, come under my bed, where you'll find me hiding, the fear in my head. abuse in the past, now, where do i start, making my future, healing my heart. crushed, and broken, falling fast- needing comfort, make it last. There is a content warning before entering Mile 191's blog. If you are an abuse survivor - use caution when reading her post(s) as they may trigger. Thank you, Mile 191 for your bravery!
Advocacy and Awareness
This next submission breaks my heart. Again, use extreme caution when reading the following post. Ciara, at the newly formed blog, Abuse Angels..., submitted the story of Baby P, which is just one of many posts raising awareness about death by child abuse and assuring that these children's short, horrific lives are honored and not forgotten. Although the stories are horrendous, it is important to call attention to child abuse and encourage child protection!
In the News
Heart, from Women's Space, presents a disturbing news article titled: 43 Alaskan Native Americans File Suit Against Jesuits for Rape, Sexual Assault; Alaska was Catholic Church's Dumping Grounds for Rapist Priests. I ran the gambit of emotions reading this article from anger over this mind-boggling injustice, to compassion and encouragement for those who finally broke their silence after as many as sixty years.
I thought I'd follow up these stories by updating and encouraging the fight and the progress being made to protect our Nations children with: What's New at the National Association to Protect Children?
That wraps up this edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse! My gratitude to Marj a.k.a Thriver for all of her promotion and for guiding me through the ins and outs of being a guest host! What an honor!
BTW, Marj sent me a message to include in this edition, she said:
"If you've participated in our carnival by submitting posts that have been published in our carnival editions, I'd like to invite you to take the next step and host an edition at your own blog in the future. It's easy. It's fun and you get to meet a lot of new bloggers. And I make sure to help you every step of the way. Think about it and leave me a comment at my blog if you are interested. Thanks!"
~ Thanks for sharing these great posts! All my best to everyone!
The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse!
Whether you submitted a post, or you are taking the carnival for a spin in support of the cause, thank you for being a part of this community!
Quite a few new bloggers joined in this month. Welcome! All totaled, we received many wonderful submissions. I hope you are as moved by them as I am.
As always, please use caution when reading. Many of these posts may trigger.
Our first category in what I believe is the twenty-first edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is:
Quite a few new bloggers joined in this month. Welcome! All totaled, we received many wonderful submissions. I hope you are as moved by them as I am.
As always, please use caution when reading. Many of these posts may trigger.
Our first category in what I believe is the twenty-first edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is:
Poetry
Mary's poems quite often touch the vulnerable little girl in me. Today, she shares a simple poem that speaks volumes about the lasting pain of childhood sexual abuse titled, The Past How it Makes Me Weep posted at Nippercat's Home. Thank you Mary, for sharing your brave voice.
Healing and Therapy
Faith Hoffen, of Hope for Coping with Traumatic Stress joins us with two posts straight from the heart. In her first, titled This is a Safe Place, Faith generously offers a safe, compassionate ear. For her second post, I Choose to Forgive, Faith says, "This post is about my choice to forgive, and struggle to heal." She makes it clear that forgiveness isn't about forgetting. It is all about her, and isn't a free pass for her abusers! Kudos for making it about what is best for you, Faith!
The next contribution is from Colleen, of Surviving by Grace. Colleen joins in with a beautiful, healing post titled, A Beloved Daughter. Like Colleen, I know many other survivors who "wince" at the phrase "God the Father." Thank you Colleen, for sharing the tender way in which you are healing this wound.
Little Sheep, of My (Sick and Ugly) Story, offers a gripping poem to our collection. She says Don't Call the Psychiatrist Yet "is a sorta poem, but i think it goes in healing and therapy more than poetry. i'm so glad i found the community of child abuse bloggers..." Welcome Little Sheep! We are glad you found us too.
JIP, from Life Spacings sent in a list of wise therapy guidelines that she learned the hard way - through experience, in her post, Top Ten Most Valuable Therapy Tips. Thanks for passing on these hard earned lessons!
In another wonderful post packed with helpful tips, Girl Anachronism, from the blog of the same name, presents, Some of the Things I do to Stay Grounded During Crisis. Wow! Great pictures. Great Ideas. Everyone should check these out! Way to take care of yourself GA!
Girl Anachronism, also offers another beautiful post titled, Creating a Safe Space. She says, "This post is the result of an art therapy assignment for which I was given a box in which to create a safe space." Again, her creativity is incredible!
Holly, from Woman Tribune, offers a DVD review from her perspective as a survivor in her post, DVD Review: Healing Sex. Holly said, "'Healing Sex' is an educational film that presents verbal and physical exercises to help establish trust and intimacy in relationships after trauma." Thank you Holly!
Mike McBride from Child Abuse Survivor, sent in a thought-provoking post titled, Outliers and Emotional Intelligence about the ability to successfully navigate life. I think this one will strike a cord with most survivors.
In my own post, Hope for the Future, I reach back to comfort and reassure the less-healed and more fearful me that she does indeed have a peaceful future to look forward to.
Aftermath
In order to protect the vulnerable and deal with injustice, every society must construct and understand the rules a community is to live by. Marcella Chester of abyss2hope, offers her debate over the definition of "consent" in her post No Clear Presence Of Non-Consent. Thank you for your powerful advocacy, Marcella!
In another post regarding "Non-Consent," Enola, from her blog of the same name, offers What I learned from Romance Novels. She said, "I hope that women everywhere will consider the effect that romance novels have on them, and on their children. It is amazing the things that young girls pick up from the books they read and the shows they watch. We, as parents, have an obligation to consider that. Now that I have both a son, and a daughter, I will be watching from more than one perspective." About her subsequent post, Raising a Son - a New Perspective, Enola says, "This is a follow-up to my first submission - looking at things from another viewpoint." Thank you, Enola for two great posts!
Our Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse founder, Marj aka Thriver, presents A Dissociative "Doh!" Marj said, "I am still caught quite off guard with some of the aftermath I deal with from my childhood abuse, trauma and subsequent dissociative disorder. What things resulting from your childhood trauma still sneak up and surprise you?" Great question Marj!
Survivor Stories
Mile 191 of Come into My Closet, joins us with The Rape - Trigger Warning!
She included her blog heading with her submission: come into my closet, come under my bed, where you'll find me hiding, the fear in my head. abuse in the past, now, where do i start, making my future, healing my heart. crushed, and broken, falling fast- needing comfort, make it last. There is a content warning before entering Mile 191's blog. If you are an abuse survivor - use caution when reading her post(s) as they may trigger. Thank you, Mile 191 for your bravery!
Advocacy and Awareness
This next submission breaks my heart. Again, use extreme caution when reading the following post. Ciara, at the newly formed blog, Abuse Angels..., submitted the story of Baby P, which is just one of many posts raising awareness about death by child abuse and assuring that these children's short, horrific lives are honored and not forgotten. Although the stories are horrendous, it is important to call attention to child abuse and encourage child protection!
In the News
Heart, from Women's Space, presents a disturbing news article titled: 43 Alaskan Native Americans File Suit Against Jesuits for Rape, Sexual Assault; Alaska was Catholic Church's Dumping Grounds for Rapist Priests. I ran the gambit of emotions reading this article from anger over this mind-boggling injustice, to compassion and encouragement for those who finally broke their silence after as many as sixty years.
I thought I'd follow up these stories by updating and encouraging the fight and the progress being made to protect our Nations children with: What's New at the National Association to Protect Children?
That wraps up this edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse! My gratitude to Marj a.k.a Thriver for all of her promotion and for guiding me through the ins and outs of being a guest host! What an honor!
BTW, Marj sent me a message to include in this edition, she said:
"If you've participated in our carnival by submitting posts that have been published in our carnival editions, I'd like to invite you to take the next step and host an edition at your own blog in the future. It's easy. It's fun and you get to meet a lot of new bloggers. And I make sure to help you every step of the way. Think about it and leave me a comment at my blog if you are interested. Thanks!"
~ Thanks for sharing these great posts! All my best to everyone!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Merry Christmas!
To all those contending with the turmoil surrounding an abusive family of origin and to those dealing with the pain of family estrangement, my thoughts and prayers are with you all this holiday season.
Warmest Wishes,
Nancy
Warmest Wishes,
Nancy
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Mother, I Forgive You
Written (but not shared) during the fourteen-year estrangement from my family.
Mother, I forgive you. Oh it wasn't easy; it took nearly ten years, but through the grace of God – I have arrived. It was a long journey, yet I honor and respect each necessary step along the way.
I thought we started out right, you and me. As a child you were the center of my universe. I felt safe and loved. Each evening you tucked me into bed with a good-night kiss. You provided holiday magic, and delighted in my mischievousness. I remember the excitement I felt as we walked together for my first day of school. Then tragically, dad died and with him died my childhood and my relationship with you. There were no more bedtimes, or kisses; all the passages mothers and daughters share were simply gone. There was, however, a new man in your life. Year after year, the betrayal felt incomprehensible as I watched you - as you silently watched him - beat and torture my brothers and me. Through all the violence and betrayal, I never stopped longing for your motherly love. I missed so much. I traveled the road to womanhood alone, without your guidance or example of what it meant to be a woman, a wife or a mother. My first period, dating, child birth; these are experiences I had alone; other milestones I missed all together.Long into adulthood, like a moth to a flame, I was forever drawn to you - craving your love, a love that never came my way. Sadly, when our relationship became too unsafe, I walked away from years of abuse, from you, and my family of origin to find a healthier life.
Oh, but I turned it around Mom. I read, I learned, I looked to others for support and I created a family of my own. I had two precious daughters and we've walked through life together every step of the way. I rejoice that all my hard work has paid off and I can celebrate with them a loving relationship. I have the opportunity to show them what it is to be a woman, and a mother. My longing for a close mother-daughter relationship has been realized with them. I feel very blessed.
As I've shared with my girls all the important events and passages in their lives, I have simultaneously experienced joy and sorrow. Joy at their milestones, happy to guide, advise and protect; I brim with pride and enthusiasm for them. Then quietly, I mourn for myself. Yet, I am the proud matriarch of a new family legacy.
People told me both while I was still seeing you and after I stopped, that I needed to forgive you. Forgiveness haunted me. Whenever I heard the daunting words: "You must forgive," I felt the responsibility to forgive immediately. Yet each time I tried, I failed miserably. After years of misery and burying my pain in order to pardon you, I abandoned my quest to forgive. As long as I carried unhealed wounds – forgiveness would have to wait.
Over a period of many years within the protective cocoon of my "family of choice," I was able to walk through the healing process that eventually set me free to forgive. In the safety of my loving friends and extended family, I shared my story. I expressed my hurt and my anger. With my family of choice, I mourned all my losses, honored my pain and moved forward.
Each day, I journeyed further down the path of recovery. I made great strides towards forgiveness when I realized, I didn’t have to trust you enough to resume a relationship with you in order to forgive you. Forgiveness was not dependant on your willingness to co-operate, nor did I have to excuse what you had done. I could forgive you and not see you.
The mother-daughter bond is I’m sure the strongest of all human bonds. I feel the loss of the mother you could have been. Although abuse and betrayal stand between us and make a relationship with you unsafe, I love you. I think of you daily and you are in my thoughts and in my prayers.
Forgiveness is not an event of immediacy. It's not a bolt of light that brightens the soul and burns the pain to ashes. Forgiveness is a process. When it is all said and done, the final process was an act of love: love of myself and love of my mother.
Wishing everyone, peace, love, and healing.
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