Been a while...Part 2

Well I guess I'm in a writing kind of mood. I don't normally post alot of stuff at once. I don't want to overwhelm anyone or even myself. But...whether I like it or not...this needs to come out. And its safe here. No one can 'get' to me on here. I need to go back a bit to explain how things ended up the way they are now. When I was with my therapist & she suggested I go to the hospital I decided after I left her office & was sitting in my car to go. On the way there I called my mom. I told her...I told her I had been assaulted...she didn't know what to say...she got real quiet...she said C (my name) what do you mean 'assaulted'?...I said sexually assaulted...she said oh..okay..where are you? I told her I was on the way to the ER. She said ok. She said she couldn't come right that minute because she was going to my grandmother's house (will explain that later...another story) & she couldn't get there. But that I was to call her the very minute I walked out of that ER & she would meet me there. After I hung up from her & by the way I'm driving in the mean time I just started crying. I couldn't help it. After all the ups & downs, the abuse from her hands - both physically & sexually in the past when I was a child & a teen, the fighting, the no talking to each other...she STILL was my mom STILL wanted to be with me through what she knew would be extremely difficult for me. I guess in a way to put it she STILL loved me even after what I did. I got to the ER, had them look at me. They referred me to a Rape Crisis Center. A SANE nurse (for those who don't know what that is its Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner - a nurse specially trained to handle rape/assault victims) would meet me there. It would be more comfortable for me not to be in the ER. A little less traumatic. So I left the ER, called my mom, & she met me in the parking lot at the ER. I was so ashamed, embarrassed, crying, upset...I didn't know what to say to her. I couldn't look at her. I'm 42 years old...an adult woman...& I couldn't even look her in the face. She asked me if I had told my dad. I said no. The only one who knew apart from the medical people was my aunt, Gena and now her. I didn't want to tell my dad. We've been getting along pretty good. I didn't want him to judge me or think things about me. My dad knows some of my abuse now. He's been a great support for me & I consider myself VERY lucky to have the parents that I have. They both in their own ways have abused me - my mother physically & sexually & my father emotionally - in the past but they're both here for me now. And that's what counts...now not then. She then told me something that I won't ever forget for a long, long time. And coming from her...well it would be like someone coming up to you and telling you you had won the lottery. That kind of "WHAT????" She said C this wasn't your fault. Don't ever, ever think it was your fault. It wasn't & I still love you. I lost it then. I had tried to hold it all in but when she said that....I was done. I cried for a long time. She just sat there with me...telling me like she used to when I was a kid & I had gotten hurt or fell down...it will be all right...you'll be fine baby girl...you're still my "Bub"..."Bub" is her pet name for me. After I had calmed down a bit, she said she had been thinking...that maybe it would be a good idea for me to move. I said yeah I have already thought about that..duh...& she said no...move from this state...back to where I came from...900 miles away. I just looked at her & said you want me to go???? After all of this??? Now you want me to leave??? She said NO..not at all..its just not working here for you...you need a break...a fresh start somewhere else. She said what about asking Gena (my aunt) if you could go visit her for a few days...get some rest...have some fun...be around someone who loves you & cares about you...think about what you want to do (meaning press charges or not - I still hadn't decided on that at that point). I told her I don't know...she's been kinda funky lately. We had been 'fighting' sort of. I did not like her comment that I had 'let him rape me'. That set me off pretty bad & looking back now I think that was the beginning of the end for her & I. You can say a lot of things to me...do a lot of things to me but I have limits. And she crossed one there. An unforgivable one in my mind. My mom said aww come on...you & Gena do this...I know her..she was my sister-in-law for 20 years...we were buds at one time...she gets over it & moves on...but a little side note here...my mom doesn't know everything about me & Gena. And she never will. She would NEVER understand or get it. And I'm not sure I get it either. Its twisted, sick. I won't even write it here but lets just say we have a 'history' if you will. I told her I didn't know..I'd ask her. My mom said she would pay for it...for the gas for me to go. She thought it would be a good idea for me to get out of town for a few days. Gena lives about 7 hours away. A fairly decent piece away but not too bad. Doable.  I said okay I'd ask her & let her know. I really didn't want to but my mom was insistent. And there are other family things going on...my mom is about to lose HER cookies too. I didn't want to add any more to the mix with my stuff. So after I got back from the clinic, I called Gena on video chat. We chatted for a while & I tentatively asked her about if I could come down for a few days. I was afraid she would say no. She had her cousin coming in a few weeks & I didn't want her to get overwhelmed with company & all. And this wasn't going to be a 'normal' visit so to speak. But she said that she had already thought of suggesting I come to see her for a few days but didn't know how I could afford to go with not working. I told her my mom said she would pay for it but that if it was a bad time it was all right. I would be fine with staying at home. My mom just had suggested it. She said no it was all right...come on. So I went. Stayed a few days with her. I did stay drunk & high most of the time I was there. I know what I was doing. Avoiding the hurt & the pain. She didn't ask for any details & I didn't give her any. We talked very little about the rape or why I was there. I did ask her if she didn't mind to check me down there. The ER doctor was worried about maybe the possibility of the cut getting infected. She did that. I mean she's my aunt...a woman. Not like she hadn't seen it before anyway. She was the one that said something about the discharge didn't look quite right. That's when I started to think maybe I had gotten something from him. It just didn't feel right down there...apart from the obvious..the cut hurting & my bottom. I came back home after 5 days with her. Her cousin came a few days later so we didn't talk much for about 2 or 3 weeks or so. Then out of the blue here it comes again...I was expecting this. She's done it twice before. She blasted me for several paragraphs through a Facebook message. That she didn't really want me to come to see her then...that it was my fault...that I couldn't say I got the STD through the rape because I had 'consensual sex' with him before. When I had my follow-up 2 weeks later, the nurse practitioner told me about the STD...she said I would have gotten it the LAST time I was with him which would have been with the rape. There had been too many days between the last time I was with him & the rape. I would have known before then with the particular one I had. I don't know if I'm allowed to say this on here but writing all this out...it just makes me wish I wasn't here. As if I didn't have enough on my plate. The day I was assaulted, my grandfather was admitted to the hospital. That was on a Saturday. The next Thursday my mom called me & said I needed to come to the hospital right then. She met me outside & told me my grandfather was terminal. He had very little time left & he has dementia & he would never go home. He is in a nursing home now. My mom is crazy, my grandmother is crazy, all this stuff happened to me, & then my aunt...my supposed 'friend' the one who 'cares' & 'loves' me tells me all of this. And now she is telling me she's taking a 'slow down' from all her family & friends including me. Geez. I just don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't do it anymore. I don't have anything left in here. I don't have any fight left..no strength...no hope. This is way, way too long...I need to hush...be quiet...go back to my 'cave' where its safe...where no one hurts me, says bad things to me, tells me I'm a whore and a slut, tells me one thing & does another...no back n forthing...just calm, quiet, dark, peaceful. I've been there before. I fought like hell to get out of there. Now all I want to do is go back there. Things were better in the cave. No friends hurting me, no one yelling at me, no one touching me...nothing. I should go. Sorry.

Been a while...

Well its been a while since I've written on here. So much has happened. And really I didn't, couldn't, was afraid to talk or even write it. Writing for me has always made things 'real' if that makes sense. And some things I don't want to be real. I wish I could make them just go away...change them...forget them. But some things I can't forget. As much as I & everyone else I know would like me to.
In the past year, so much has happened to me & around me. Its mind boggling, overwhelming at times. There are days when I think okay...I can't deal with one more thing. And then the one more thing comes. I've even wondered how I keep going when deep down inside...where things really are & really matter I know that in some ways I've given up. A person can only take so much at one time. So much hurt, so much pain, so much sadness & loss. We are after all only human. But I don't feel human anymore. Instead of waking up to the day thinking ok what am I going to do today its ok what's going to hit me today? I don't like living that way. But I'm doing everything in my power to change that but its not working. Its almost like the harder I try the worse it gets. If there is one thing that with everything I've been through...I've never lost my hope. Because to me, if you lose hope then you lose. Period. Hope is life & vice versa. Life is hope. As long as I'm still here still breathing, still trying there is still a chance for me. If I lose hope, then there is no life. I know I'm probably not making much sense but if you, my fellow survivors, knew what I've been through in this past month & a half...it would make a lot of sense.
I'm not sure I'm ready to put 'down' what has happened. But on some level, its eating me alive...literally. No one on here knows me...knows my real name...or even where I'm at in the world. So there is some sense of safety & security in knowing that if I do say what I did...what happened then no one would know. I did tell & I do regret telling. If I had to do it over, I would have NEVER told anyone at all. Not even my therapist. No one. Well I suppose its not really 'fair' to say these things & then not divulge the 'it'...the 'what happened'. So even though this feels like I'm making another mistake...here it goes anyway. Think about me what you will...judge me if you will. Say anything or everything at all to me. Because I can assure you...the people in my life..my family & my 'friends' have said it all & I've heard it all before. I will say this too - possible triggers for some so continue on with caution.
I will try to make this not too long. Not just for the sake of the reader if anyone reads this but more for myself. Its still very painful even after this long of a time. As some of you know, I am a sexual abuse survivor. I still have issues with men & with sex. I am bisexual as well. If that offends anyone I'm sorry. But I'm just me. I haven't dated in a long time. And my last couple of relationships including sexual relations were with women. Women were & are in my mind safer. Especially now.
There is a guy in my apartment building. He lives behind me with his live-in girlfriend. I've known them both for going on 3 years now. He's no stranger. We've spoke in the hallway, I've went to their apartment, had dinner with them, given them rides, & he even borrowed money from me (not much $10 which he paid back promptly & early than he said he would). I figured him to be a trustworthy type of person. He had never been inappropriate with me nor had he ever made a pass or even eluded to the fact he was attracted to me. Back in early March...the first week of April he knocked on my door. I had not spoken or seen him in a long time...before Christmas...so I was kinda surprised he knocked on the door. He asked me if I minded taking him to his mother's house down the street. I said sure...not a problem. And it really wasn't...I had to go out anyway & his mom's house was on my way. I took him there, he did what he had to do w/ her, & I stopped on my errand on the way back home. While we were stopped at a stop light he glanced at me & put his hand on my thigh. He was very gentle..very nice. It wasn't a crude gesture...more a nice one. He looked at me & smiled & I smiled back at him. He then asked if he could kiss me. I said ok. I really didn't know what to say. He had a girlfriend...but he said that they were breaking up. She is much older than him by 15 years...& he says she treats him like a kid & he doesn't like that. We kissed...which by the way sucked...& we went on our way. When we got home, he asked if he could call me later & maybe come over. He had some weed. We could smoke, drink a few beers & talk. I said okay..sure. I haven't had company in ages...I have no friends here...so I thought well I know him...he's never made any moves...he seems like a nice guy...a nice gentleman..held the door for me, opened my apartment for me, etc. Well to make a long story short, he came over & things escalated into us...well I guess you know. It had been a long, long time for me. I did trigger & it hurt but I dealt with it. He didn't really know. For the next 3 days, he came over...same deal...smoking pot, drinking, & then sex. Sorry for the bluntness but by the 4th day I'm not sure I like this deal. I don't like feeling out of control...the pot & the drinking...& the sex left several things desired if you know what I mean. Put bluntly..it sucked.
I had spoke to my aunt about him...my parents...I didn't want to really disappoint them & it was soooo nice to have someone...anyone. I've been alone for so long. Just simple human contact...another human in your space. If you've never been alone...lived alone...you have no clue what I'm talking about. There are days that go by that I don't see or talk to anyone except my dogs. I don't even go outside. So on the 5th day he came over...March 17...St. Patrick's Day...& we did the same things only this time he hurt me. I got mad then. And I freaked out. I flashed...it hurt. What he was doing hurt. He left & I freaked for a long time. I tried talking myself down but I was a mess. A bad mess. I finally ended up talking to my aunt on video chat & told her what he did. She was mad...both at him & at me. She said I let him rape me. NO I DID NOT. HE DID WHAT HE WANTED EVEN WHEN I SAID TO STOP AND NO. We didn't talk for a couple of days. I was so mad & hurt by what she had said. And I'd had this happen before with a previous 'boyfriend'. I didn't hear from him for a week and a half. Then on Sunday night April 9 he called me about 11pm. He asked if I would come & pick him up across town. I live in a big city. Across town is about a 45 minute drive to where he was. And God knows why....loneliness, stupidity, ignorance, desperation...I don't know why but I said yes. BUT I told him I didn't want to really do anything...He said we would just 'talk' & smoke a little. I was stupid...very stupid. I believed that. I went & got him, we got back to my house, & long story short same scenario as before except this time he physically hurt me. This time..I guess I had enough. I had therapy...I was a mess again. I told my therapist what happened. And she suggested that I go to the hospital. I needed to go for medical attention if nothing else. He had geez I don't know how to say this nicely. He had tore a part of my female part. I hope I'm not offending anyone. I just needed to have the cut looked at. I didn't know if it might need stitches or not. I flashed & freaked again when I saw what he did. And God it hurt. I have a high pain tolerance...I really do...but he did that & something else to my behind which tore too. And I was hurting...real bad. I had to go...no choice. That ended up with me at a Rape Crisis Center getting an exam, wondering if I should press charges, & having 2 female strangers poke, prod, ask embarrassing questions (and they ARE...and I'm an RN), & touch what I really couldn't tolerate any touch to...even my own. I think the exam was worse than the actual acts themselves. It was like being raped all over again. They were gentle...everyone was nice but well it just was so so sore. I'm sorry...I can't...I can't write anymore right now. There's more but I...I thought I could do this...but I'm sorry...I can't. I'm so ashamed, it still there...it still hurts...I've been active for several years...and in all those years I never once got anything. I got an STD from this a-hole. A curable one thank God. I wish I had the courage to press charges...to get him...but if I do what happens to me? He lives behind me, his girlfriend is an unmedicated schizophrenic (no offense to anyone here with that diagnosis...but she is nutty). What if one or both of them go off on me, try to hurt me, do something to my dogs, or to my car? I'm not feeling safe...I haven't felt safe in a while now. I really wouldn't feel safe if I did press charges. I was fired from my job the day before I left for Thanksgiving vacation...I'm still unemployed...living on unemployment...I can't move...I don't know...I don't know what to do, what to say, what I need....I don't know nothing...except it hurts, I'm scared, I'm hurt, I cry all the time, and I just wanted to tell someone...someone who doesn't know me...someone who wouldn't judge, criticize, tell me its my fault, tell me I had it coming & I 'let him', etc. But I'm sure someone would say those things...without knowing...I don't know...I'm sorry for so long...Please forgive...I just had no one else to go to...

Our Feelings Seek to Be Expressed

"There's a magic I've learned over the years. It happens when I feel my fear. My life changes. I become empowered to move on. Barricades I have not been able to penetrate crumble and disappear. And all I had to do was simply face and feel my fear."

 Melody Beattie

In the dream, I was curled up on my therapists couch, my face hidden in my arms, tears pouring from my eyes, choking in gasping sobs. I sat straight up in bed, the tears still damp on my cheeks, and I realized that I have so many more memories of sexual abuse as a child. All of my childhood, my boundaries were violated over and over again, and I still don't feel as if I'm a separate person. She has this hold on me that I can't seem to escape. All that I ever wanted was to be loved without having to give away my soul. I can't help but wonder what it is about me that makes people think they can use me. I want to escape my body, escape the pain, and not running from the hurt, and not using self harming behaviors is difficult. I want to cut, starve, drink myself into oblivion...anything not to feel. I'm so sad.

Palaces in the Sky Forever lost inside my own world-never to come out of hiding I am building palaces in the sky though I can only see the stars. I can only see the stars, and The quarter moon’s light shining dimly upon the horizon Casting its shadows upon the places of my dreams- How I wish to escape the misfortunes of life upon this planet and Make my home inside a palace somewhere in the sky. I had built a million palaces, so it seems- Every day and every night, I find myself rapidly losing my grasp upon What is real and what is not- I am running a marathon toward someplace Between the land where grasses and flowers grow and the Trees, from the ground reaching upward to touch the clouds, I can feel the gentleness of the late spring’s breeze Blowing against my cheeks, damp from tears that have I have cried, as This world has not been kind to me. People are heartless, and only laugh when I am weeping, Looking into my eyes reading my thoughts, and Ridiculing me as I converse with the voices inside of my mind, Which have become my only consoling realities while inside this world of my fantasies, I have become a dove with broken wings-which with deep gratefulness can still fly. Lost inside some sort of trance, I am building palaces in the sky. Placid breezes rustle the leaves upon the trees, almost making music- Creating tunes about nature, peace of mind and are never threatening- However, I know that one day these trees will all be cut down to fabricate homes For thousands of people- people who have no heart or no spirit of patience or kindness So I know that I must continue building my palaces in the sky. Summer storms shall rip across the sky and I know I must use all my strength To stay alive so I may lift my broken wings to find a palace which I have built- The quarter moon is casting its light upon the world and about the sky- I am glancing repeatedly towards the sky searching for my palace, my home- Flying bravely about to the best of my ability, on My endless search for freedom and safety, praying to a God I am not certain that exists- My hope is to see my golden palace glistening beneath the light of the quarter moon, All I can see are the stars- what lurks behind those stars I may never know, But I shall continue to fight the clouds and build my palaces, my castles. May the stars illuminate the darkness and guide me towards some redeeming veracity, Even if I never find my palace- in the meantime I shall keep on Looking upward and forward and even if my dreams never do come true- I know I can always continue to travel about the sky and I know that I shall forever behold the splendor of the moon and always count upon the stars To elucidate the direction upon which I travel and for always be my guiding lights… Claudia Krizay

When we collide.

I'm so grateful for this blog; I love it. But it's also great to get to be together in person. :)

Drawing as a Sacred Activity

I have been reading a book called Drawing as a Sacred Activity by Heather C. Williams. This is one of the many books I have that I have no idea when I got or how long I have had but it seemed to magically appear in a book case. I picked it up recently and today during my daughters nap I started to read it.


I wanted to share a quote from it. It is full of good parts I would like to quote but I will just post one of those parts here now.


"No one but you can look through your eyes, think your thoughts, or feel your feelings. No one but you can draw out your feelings — be they painful and conflicted or positive and sublime. Drawing is one way to feel your feelings. I think of drawing as a dialogue between you and your feelings. Drawing is a safe and healthy way to become aware of your feeling, to listen to your heart, to explore your thinking, to make changes, to breath fresh air, emotionally speaking. The feelings in your heart are prompting you to change; drawing is a safe, effective, and playful way to listen. "



This is a drawing I did with my non dominant hand after I had read a bit of the book.

I am really trying but it seems I am not getting very far! My mom says she doesn't have much longer and all I think about is that I will never get what I need from her,its too late and I am super sad about that. It maybe selfish of me but I cant help it. I wanted a mom all my life and now I will never have one. It actually makes me cry and it takes a lot for me too do that. I guess that's all.

I found out yesterday my Grandma has leukemia. She's the only one in my family that has always been here for me and is still 100% supportive of me (and knows about the abuse). Well, I can talk to my Mom a bit, but she is so messed up that I end up comforting her half the time, so it doesn't help me much. I don't even know the words to describe how sad I am, but not only for myself, but for my Grandmother too. She's a very independent, strong and normally healthy woman. It sounds mean, but I would prefer it was my Mom or Dad, or really anyone else in my family besides her. It's pretty crappy to feel alone but then to loose my Grandma would be horrible. I'm going to remain strong for her, because if I don't she'll try to be strong for me and she needs to be strong for herself right now. Sometimes life just isn't fair.

I woke up yesterday morning and while still lying in bed, experienced a huge wave of terror. Terror, not fear was the feeling. I had just spent the entire previous day comforting myself as I was struggling quite a bit. I realized that terror is what I must have felt as a child but never let myself acknowledge it. I have never experienced such terror in my life and really couldn't stay with the feeling long. It's amazing to discover all these emotions I never knew existed. What a mess. I sometimes wonder if jumping on the path to recovery is worth it? I wonder if pretending would have been better.

I have been reading some of the old posts on here. There was one that talked about sharing the experiences with other people and having them leave afterwards. What a frustrating experience! I can't count the number of times that has happened. One of my oldest friend won't even talk to me any more. Well, she says hi and will respond if I write, but doesn't initiate anything anymore. It's very isolating to be honest with yourself, and then others. I want to get married again, have children. But, honestly, what healthy, relatively normal guy would want to deal with a woman that has so many issues, especially with sex.

I wonder if I'll ever get through this mess to real healing. I've read two views. Some say people recover, others mention that people never fully recover. What do you think? Any thoughts?

Healing. :-)

This is a photo of me with my good friend Heather.  We are together today.  It's Mother's Day and I was worried I would be miserable and swamped in a heap of unhappiness.  I'm not.  I just cried at Heather's kitchen table, but we both talked and drew and now I am writing this while Heather is making some vegan brownies.  I'm sorry I've not been writing here more recently- it was a lot to finish school for this year and then I was pretty overwhelmed.  But I wanted to write this to say a few things quick...  Good friends are always better than unhealthy family, it is hard work but it is possible to heal from the wounds of child sexual abuse and here is my favorite thing today... I've realized I'm not going to hate myself forever.  Not the way I am or look or anything.  Hating myself has been a way to hide my hurt and the massive fog of self-hatred is starting to lift.  I'm ok.  I survived the abuse, I'm doing great.  I have a lot of great people in my life that I love a lot and I am loved by many.  :-)

Today we are going to bike and draw.  That makes me really happy.  I'll try to post more soon.  xoxo

The Cave - Mumford & Sons - LYRICS

this song really fits with where I am right now. I'll find strength in pain.

Often I don't have words to express where I'm at. I feel so tired of struggling. All I've ever wanted was to feel loved and live what appears to be a normal life (I say that because I know normal doesn't exist). I don't understand how much is okay to share and how much isn't in my relationships. I feel alone and yet I have a fairly decent number of girl friends. While they try to help and listen, they have their limits. I struggle to deal and process what I'm dealing with, how can I expect them to be able to handle it too? It's not that I'm alone all the time (although I am often), it's that even when I'm with other people I feel empty.

I've been sinking into my body as much as I can to allow myself to start to feel again. What a crazy experience! I always "knew" there was some sexual abuse in my past; when I went to school in 1st grade with a hickie on my neck the school called the police. My mom left dad that day. But the abuse didn't stop there; the emotional incest continued until I finally cut off the relationship in January. I negated its impact and am beginning to realize I suppressed it and probably more ocurred than I realized.

I went to a party on Saturday where a guy who likes me was. I have told him that I don't want anything more than friends previously, yet he spent the whole night flirting with me and trying to force me to reciprocate. It was exhausting. I finally left after working through all the triggers that were set off. Reflecting back on this situation, I feel very proud I walked away. For many years I didn't know I could leave, and when I did I was so desperate for love and attention (still am actually, but I'm just determined to heal this time) that I stayed for the comfort (hence my ex-husband). Also this guy said something very telling; he asked me why I was so hard. He meant untrusting. I have thought a lot about this statement. What I realized that I am untrusting and hard/cold because I've been surrounded by untrustworthy people. I thought it was a problem with me - my mom shook me as a baby so I didn't develop the ability to trust (see Eric Erikson's developmental needs for infants). But, my triggers don't shoot off to this degree when I'm around other guys. I still have trust issues with all men, but I'm beginning to trust my judgement about who is safe and who isn't. Feels nice.

Being my own mother

With Mother's Day coming up, I feel like it is really important to state that this CAN be a great holiday.  You know why?  Because even if you (as I am sure many of us do) have a strained and or non-existent relationship with your mother, you no longer need to rely on the crumbs that she gave you to survive.  Our mothers, whether they were knowing or unknowingly abusive towards us, no longer are our primary care givers.  We are.  We are our own primary care givers now.  We can be the mothers to ourselves that we had always wished for.  I am doing just that.  It is not easy.  It may never be.  But I am going to keep remembering that I am the mother that I always wanted.  I bake and cook from scratch daily.  I make homemade beauty products.  I send encouraging notes to people via snail mail.  I pray for a lot of people everyday.  I wash my dishes everyday.  I play with my daughter.  I watch her and observe how beautiful and amazing she is.  I have wonderful friends, who love me even when I get a little ugly or grumpy.  I have a fantastic partner who tells me how awesome I am.  I am learning to take time to do art.  I am the mother that I always wanted, and I am going to look forward to celebrating that all week leading up to Mother's Day.  And then, I am going to look forward to the fact that my daughter is going to LOVE Mother's Day bc it will be a time for her to celebrate a woman who is helping and allowing her to become the woman she was meant to be.  I am praying that each of you will be able to do the same.  Sending you prayer, love, and respect-----may your freedom continue!

My Shadow

My Shadow Things I have left behind Within an effort to move forward, Counting every minute, every second- Reliving my life through every hour, day and year- The night time sky is falling before my own eyes Blocking the pathway before me, blinding me- I cannot foresee a future-The rain that fell every time I tried to venture outward, Rain that transformed to tears When all hope had ostensibly disappeared. Things I have left behind- Places where I had been locked inside, Having lost grounds with all that is real- Perhaps a few roses in a cracked vase by my bedside, A mother that did not care and a father that did not believe- When through my own eyes my world had fallen to pieces. I left behind many people- People I did not trust and it was then that I knew I had to rebuild my foundation, To build a future for myself that would be mine and mine alone- Things I have left behind are now Gone and gone forever-all that is left is time- Time to move on and to bury the past in my back yard and Search for hope, a purpose and a new reality. These things I have left behind are sinking into the ground- Now I can foresee a future- the flame on my candle is burning Guiding me as I run forward into a garden of blossoming trees and A paved pathway upon which to run forward- and a cloudless sky Where I can lift my wings, once broken and are healing, and fly- Fly high above looking down below at my newfound veracity- I know if I were to take a look behind- All I could see would be a shadow upon a sidewalk- A shadow of my past and everybody knows that shadows don’t last forever, and All else that I have left behind is gone forever, Looking forward at the allure of the springtime and I see clearly now- there is no more rain and as I look above me I can see trees seemingly touching the sun against a deep blue sky- I can see clearly now because my eyes are open wide and There are no tears to cry today and when I glance behind me- All I see is a shadow- that shadow of my past, vanishing in the late spring’s breeze. Claudia Krizay

I'm having a hard day.  There is a post from Overcoming Sexual Abuse that we linked to today on the Facebook page that I have been reading on and off.  I haven't finished reading it yet I have been journaling and crying while I read it little by little.  It's titled What We Wish Our Parents Understood About Our Sexual Abuse , I have ended my relationship with my parents this year, I finally faced that our relationship could never be healthy for me.  This has been really sad to understand and see that how they have treated me as an adult the same way since I was a child is hard.  It's been an painful choice to make I can't be the truth teller for them and I can't be the scapegoat for the abuse and dysfunction.  These roles are harmful and it is a cycle of pain that has been running through my life. 

I also was reading a post by Darlene Ouimet from Emerging from Broken and I have been coming to the realization of a fear I have and have been working through. I don't want to cause abuse to happen to me again.  I'm aware of it and I am also aware of how much hyper vigilance/ hyper arousal plays in my life how much it always has.  I don't want to raped, molested, physically dominated, emotionally, and mentally abused again ever.  I don't want to be used, manipulated, put down so others feel better, criticized, misunderstood, feel powerless and bullied. I don't want to be treated like I am worthless, reject-able and unlovable. Parts of me still need to work through this and know it that none of abuse was my fault.  I know some of this is getting better and I am more and more aware but it is a long process.

In one of my therapy sessions awhile back my therapist told me "you have the right to protect yourself."  It was a very dissociative moment for me, even writing it now I feel dissociative.  Part of me knows this is true for me and for everyone but part of me still really doesn't for me.  I feel like there is going to be some sort of repercussions for me wanting to protect myself.  And I feel of guilty. More awareness.

I don't even know how to end this post, I don't like the fact that so many of us have been through so much but I am also grateful none of us are alone.

Anger. Fear. Shame. I feel so frustrated when I get triggered. I can't think clearly. I struggle to distinguish between who is safe to trust, who is not. If I'm acting too nice or too mean. My heart aches for the little girl inside of me that was violated in such a way that over 25 years later she still doesn't know how to have healthy relationships with men. These imagines keep flashing in my mind, my body, as though they are occurring now. They seem to last for days. I feel so fortunate to have healed enough to make a couple girl friends I feel safe with. If it weren't for them, I'd feel completely alone. Being rejected by most people (especially my family) for being open about where I am at and what happened reached to my core. And, yet I continue searching for the butterflies as I walk to school each morning. The taste of honey in my tea. The comfort of my bed. I will not give up on me, no matter how many times I have to redirect my focus and start over. I am worth it.

Everywhere I Go

Everywhere I Go- Today is quiet except for the sounds of my footsteps, Cardinals singing and wild geese calling from the sky above- Trees are my foremost companions and Roses and azaleas blossoming would Open their petals within a gust of wind- It seems as if for the moment they are Looking into my eyes and was almost as if they are laughing, and Their laughter is ringing in the humid late spring air-echoing throughout The fortress of my mind… Everywhere that I go Nature seems to be calling and The trees, flowers, rabbits, deer and squirrels Are my sole companions and I am feeling free as I can imagine, as I am the last person alive upon the face of the earth- Animals and plants in the wild are my friends and People have been none but intruders, Following every step that I take but today I can call myself the queen of the woods and I call myself the one who rules and controls- I am the one who can dream and inside the World of my dreams I can fly and inside the World of my fantasies I can run with the deer- Often I have wondered if I were not truly human as Humans have always been a threat to my existence, Lacking empathy, true love and congeniality? I have heard and read about dreams coming true and Fantasies becoming reality- in books I read as a child and Fairy tales my mother read me many years ago? Today is quiet except for the sounds of my footsteps and I believe I hear the wild geese calling as they fly across the sky above- As the late spring’s breeze blows I lift my own imaginary wings and fly- I know it is all within a reverie from which I hope I shall never awaken- and if I do, I shall only run forward, not backward, never looking behind at The past where people have hurt, slighted and scorned me? I see treetops scraping the sky and as I watch the sun set I totally lose myself in a trance- Past this horizon is the place I long to live where animals and plants Find their homes, free from hatred, pain and cruelty and I remember reading in a storybook as a very young child, “close your eyes and after you Fall asleep, one day you shall awaken and all of your dreams shall come true-“and I believe I have been set free, as I walk towards the horizon in every step that I take- Claudia Krizay

TED talk - JD Schramm: Break the silence for suicide attempt survivors

As someone who has attempted suicide and who deals with suicidal thoughts often I thought I might share this here. 

Thinking about forgiveness

For some reason I am thinking a lot about forgiveness tonight. I had this sort of realization a little while ago that I can forgive someone but still choose to have no contact with them. I also realized that I can forgive who someone was and it does not mean I think that they are ok or what they have done is ok.

As a child I was abused by my older brother. My therapist says that he tortured me and it really bothers me that she uses the word torture but she does and she has good reasons for using that word. He was seven and a half when I was born and he was quiet young when he started hurting me. He was molesting me and sexually abusing me before he had started puberty and he was doing other things that where very dangerous and honestly could have killed me before he had started sexually abusing me. He was a child. He was so young. It boggles my mind to think that a child that young would even think to hurt a baby in the ways he was hurting me. It frightens me. It terrifies me that someone that age would do those things but also it tells me how much he had been hurt how much abuse he had experienced by that age and how much abuse he had witnessed. He continued to hurt me until I was 8 or 9 and he was sent to juvenile hall. I really can honestly forgive that boy that hurt me and I can on some level understand why he did what he did.

I was also hurt by other children. I am uncertain how old they where or how many there where. These where kids at the baby sitters and peers at school and in my neighborhood. My brother had made me a very easy target. I had learned that fighting back or defending myself was very dangerous and possibly deadly so if a kid wanted to do stuff it did not take much coercing. If a child threatened my life I was like putty and would do whatever they asked of me. I can forgive all of those children and I worry about them and I very much hope that they managed to get help and therapy and that whatever abuse was happening to them or did happen to them was ended and that they have grown up to be ok.

I can forgive my father. He was my least abuse family member and he mostly abused me through neglect. He is not my older brothers father. My father truly believed he could save the world by being some sort of political revolutionary and most of his spare time was spent with his political group and he worked as a waiter and he was really very oblivious to what was going on with me. My father grew up with a mentally ill mother and he did not know what a normal healthy family was supposed to look like and I don't think he was able to see how toxic his family with his wife and children was. My father did at times spank me in a way that I think could be called normalized abuse. By normalized abuse I mean that it would not be considered abuse by child protective services and that it was things that happen to many many children in our society and most people do not consider it abuse. Certainly being spanked was very bad for my emotional health and well being. The biggest reason I can forgive my father is because my father believes so strongly in honesty and truth and he does not deny anything and he shows genuine remorse for his mistakes and shortcomings as a father and also because when I was a teenager he took parenting advice from me and he did a much better job parenting my little brother (who has a different mother than me). Watching my little brother grow up and seeing him get the father I never had and that I should have had has been immensely painful for me but it has also helped me to be able to feel some forgiveness for my father.

I was talking to a friend about forgiveness and this friend asked me "how do you know if you have forgiven someone" and I don't know. I don't know if I have or if I am capable of or ever will be capable of forgiving my mother and my step father. I feel like I have a pretty good understanding of why they abused me in the ways they abused me but seeing where they came from and what their backgrounds where it doesn't leave me feeling forgiveness for them. They where both abused growing up and continued to experience all sorts of trauma into adulthood. The thing is they both constantly almost daily told me how lucky I was that I was not being abused and then would laugh and make jokes to each other about how much they where messing me up and the fortune I would someday spend on therapy and they did this while I was int he room but as if I was invisible. My step father frequently told me not to trust therapists that therapists are bad and would hurt me but then would turn around and talk to my mother about how much therapy I would someday need as a result of how they where treating me. When I look back I see so much evidence that they knew they where hurting me and continued to hurt me. Over the years I have tried to speak to my mother about some of the abuse and she has always become cold and quiet and spoken words such as "I did the best I could" and I don't understand how knowingly hurting ones child over and over and over can ever be the best job a mother is capable of? Mt therapist tells me my mother is delusional and my father agrees with this. Maybe my mother just has some terrible mental illness. I don't know. I don't know how I would know if I had forgiven them but I feel pretty certain I have not. I do know though that if I do forgive my mother it would not mean I had to have any contact with her or that I would need to tell her. I know that if I ever forgive her I can continue to have no contact with her and that would be ok and that was a really good realization for me.

I also want to say something about the idea that I should forgive myself. I have heard this spoken before and I was pondering this and I think I don't need to forgive myself. I think what is bigger what is more important is understanding that none of it was my fault. I did not do anything wrong to cause people to sexually, physically, emotionally abuse me. I did nothing to deserve any of the abuse that I experienced and so I have nothing to forgive myself for. Maybe I could forgive myself for the self destructive coping mechanisms I have developed as a result of the abuse. Maybe that is what I can forgive myself for.

Lately I have been toying with the notion than instead of telling myself I hate myself I should tell myself that I love myself and reassure myself and that when I have urges to hurt myself I should instead comfort myself. This seems so rational but it feels so scary and so difficult and to think I deserve to be treated with love and respect feels alien to me.

“Do the other kids make fun of you? For how you talk?'
'Sometimes.'
'So why don't you do something about it? You could learn to talk differently, you know.'
But this is my voice. How would you be able to tell when I was talking?” 

Lauren Oliver, Before I Fall

Old blog posts are great therapy..................

I have been struggling lately.  I am a new mom (well, 7 months ago) and boy, you really learn a lot about yourself when you become a parent.  Mostly, that you don't want to be like your own parents.....:)  I have been making a very conscious effort to be very present with my little girl lately.  That is when all of this struggling started.   I have been really mad at myself for being so fat.  I have been disappointed with myself constantly for about 2 weeks now.  I just keep thinking about how I am the biggest I have ever been and I am just so unhappy with how I look.  I hide inside a lot.  I do go out, but mostly it is just to go grocery shopping. And we have been eating better than we ever have in the past and we are on the right track.  We are definitely going in the right direction, and it will take a long time, but we will keep on the healthy path.  I have also been going through my old blog posts and learning from myself.  I found this quote and it really spoke to me: 
"“Spending time with children can provide you with convincing
evidence that the abuse wasn’t your fault. Children can help
you remember how small and powerless you actually were…
The next time you are near a school yard or at a mall where
kids hang out, look around for kids who were the age you were
when your abuse began.” The Courage to Heal by Ellen Bass
and Laura Davis

And then I realized what all of this is really about.  I was abused from the ages of 6-9 by the neighbors.  But truthfully, my abuse started much sooner.  When I was the age my daughter is now, my mom was pregnant with my brother (who is the golden child of our family).  Also, my dad was messing around by this time.  Hence, I was alone a lot, and my mom was not present with me when she was with me.   I have really been upset by this.  But I am learning that I don't have to try to fix her or this situation anymore.  I just have to make good choices for me and my family and I have to start PARENTING MYSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Because I deserve a good mother.  And you know what?  I am a damn good mother!  I am the mother that I always wanted.  Not just for my daughter, but for me too. 


Whew!  I am feeling the freedom come with this one!


Yesterday I bought a 96 pack of Crayola crayons and some coloring books.  Adam is coloring right now:)  I am going to join him.


Thanks for letting me vent, process, and learn.  


Much love and respect to you all.

Freaking out!

I am totally freaking out. My therapist wants to start working on the ED and I am not. I have so much more to work on trust me. I am afraid they will just want me too eat and become even larger then what I am all ready. I sen her an email practicaly begging her not to do it. I am such a pathetic person.

When I Lost Myself

There are those who are forever searching and
After many decades have passed lose themselves to another world-
Although with much certainty and disillusionment
I can hardly remember living much of a life in
This world where people walk with confidence and self-assurance everyday-
Memories of nights as a child so young
Hearing voices others did not hear and
Seeing frightening sights others did not see-
Feeling alone although in the midst of myriads of others, afraid to speak,
Fearful to walk the streets others took for granted-
I was only six years old when voices threatened to kill
Would invade my already troubled mind and
I found myself an outcast for reasons I hardly understood-
The purple tree with golden flowers that grew inside of my bedroom-
As strikingly stunning as it was,
I fell to the floor when I tried to climb,
Because it only existed in the fortress of my mind-
My journey to find myself began when I learned to walk-
I learned to scream before I learned to speak-
Decades have passed and memories are evading me-
Walking the same path day by day-
While others are looking for a place in a world I feel I am not a part of,
My journey to find myself continues-
I walk upon a different path and have climbed many mountains
Seeking purple trees and my own garden of Eden-
Or merely for others that would accept and just remotely understand
The person I am and the world I have lost myself to-
Although my spirit at times evades me,
In the back of my mind I know in reality there must be a place for me and
Although at times my only wish is to climb that phantasmal purple tree
Until I reach the sky and disappear within only a moment’s notice
I will not give up the fight- I was born into this world so there must be a place for me-
Many decades have passed and today I see the sunlight peering through the clouds,
Though an outcast, I have a heart, a mind and feelings as does everybody else-
I continue to walk the streets everyday and my visions of purple trees, and
My dogged determination are what makes me unique- and someday people shall
Respect the person that I am and understand that flowers grow on every tree and
Every flower is unique, has its own special scent and every flower is
In its own way- magnificent and beautiful…

Claudia Krizay

Sierra Demulder - "Paper Dolls"

making some happy memories

I have so many sad memories. This time of year as been really full of sad memories for me. This year my son is 4 and a half and my daughter is 9 months old. This year we are really focusing on giving our children as many happy memories as we can give them and by doing so I am giving myself more happy memories.  In the morning it will be Easter. Tonight we had an egg hunt outside with flashlights. We use wooden eggs so no worries if some get missed. Talking to my son we decided that a saber tooth bunny comes. I told my son a pagan story about a bird that was turned into a bunny. It is a nice story.

My daughter is sick. She is congested and she is having problems sleeping. She sleeps fine but not if she is laying down so I have her propped up in my lap and am wondering when and how I will get enough sleep. I am feeling calm though. I am feeling ok. This year I made my son a toy tree and my daughter a toy bunny. I made them with my scroll saw and they are simple toys. My son will get some fruit and just a few pieces of candy and a few very small cookies.

When I was a child I would get a basket filled with plastic toys I didn't want and candy I didn't like and I would spend the day alone. I want my children to grow up associating holidays with spending time doing things they enjoy with people they enjoy being with.

I often wish I could take a time machine and go and rescue the child I once was. I can't do that. I can't change my past or change my memories but by giving my children the best memories I can give them I get to make new memories. I just hope I can hold onto these memories.

a quote

"It takes strength to acknowledge our anger, and sometimes more strength yet to curb the aggressive urges anger may bring and to channel them into nonviolent outlets. It takes strength to face our sadness and to grieve and to let our grief and our anger flow in tears when they need to. It takes strength to talk about our feelings and to reach for help and comfort when we need it."

Mister Rogers

I used to write here too....

I just wrote the following post on my own blog and decided to post it here as well. I've not written here in a very long time- I'm sorry for that.  I've been very overwhelmed by many things; mostly school and therapy.  Anyway- here's the post from my blog and I am so grateful for the "Cycle of Healing" even though I have not been posting here recently.  I'm here now.  Jenny

I have not lost my voice.

Last night I watched the American version of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo".  I usually don't watch films with a lot of violence but the original series of films was definitely an exception and so too with the remake of it.  The anal rape scene of the movie is absolutely horrific- as with the original- when she goes back for her revenge makes it almost tolerable in both of the films though.  Anyway- after watching it last night I was thinking how there are so many terrible things my rapist did to me that over the years I've come to be able to tolerate and slowly accept.  There is though an entire aspect of the abuse- or consequence of it- which I feel I am still just barely able to even fully think about; the many pregnancies I lost.

It feels very difficult to accept because so many things were already being taken from me- my own body, my own mind, control of my space that I lived in- almost everything.  And then more- and then beyond my own mind and body and space I lived in- something inside of me that was beyond me- an extension of myself.  Last night I had a dream about a baby and this morning I woke up and was feeling very sad thinking about the pregnancies I lost and how to even tolerate sitting with this in my reality and then I suddenly had a thought/memory that was:  "I had to get the first abortions because I was still living at home and I didn't want my father to abuse that child too."

The layers.  The layers and complexity of the awfulness of it all is stunning.  The more I heal and the more I am able to get clear and remember the details of the abuse the more I feel like the expression 'the devil is in the details' is so very true.  The fact that I was pregnant several times and lost every pregnancy is incredibly painful- the fact that I was so isolated, had no one to talk to about any of it and thought to myself that I needed to protect this unborn child by ending its life when I was still very much a child myself and that I lived with all of this silently in my own head- it's a shockingly painful wound.

It's 11:39 AM here.  I'm going to finish typing this post and then ride my bicycle the longer way- along the trails- to school.  I'm going to sew and draw and then come home and have dinner with my roommates.  I'm laying in my bed right now with my laptop on my knees and tears streaming down my face as I type this.  I feel worried I need to explain why I am writing about these horrible things here- because I am trying to accept them myself, because I hope that somehow writing this out can help me and maybe somebody else- but then I am also so sick of being scared and feeling like I have to explain myself anymore.  I've worked so much and so hard to recover from what was done to me.  I have no connections to any of my original family now and I've lost a lot.  But I have not lost my voice.  I will not be silent about what was done to me and I hope to be able to help other people with my story about how it is possible to survive being abused so much and to be able to really heal.

I'm absolutely sobbing now.  I feel so hurt and so angry.  I'm going to keep going.  I've come a very long way and I'm going to keep going.  My parents treated me far worse than most people would ever treat an animal.  None of it should have happened, but it did and I survived it.  I've gotten so much better.  I'm almost finished with my first year of graduate school- I'm only 34 I keep reminding myself.  I have a lot of time yet to fully live now- free because I am able to know my own mind now.

Bicycle ride, studio, making art, dinner with friends.  I'm going on.  I've stopped crying and I'm glad I wrote this.  And to everyone who reads this: Thank you for helping me to tolerate this by holding a piece of this story with me.  Thank you.

This has been the way I feel and see myself,ASHAMED! I know we all do things that we are not very proud of but when a person gets hurt a lot it puts her in hiding once more. I am so totally ashamed of what I have done I don't even want people to see. I fear it is written on my forehead,SLUT.

Anyone here live in Florida?

My Mother is the Queen of Shame

Eve said this would be good to copy here from my blog Seeking Unity and Balance. When I wrote this it was written very much stream of thought. original post is here

In my head my mother has many nicknames. One of the is the queen of shame. I think one of the worst things about incest is all the shame involved. It isn't just the abuser but often it is other family members too. People ignoring it turning a blind eye to it mothers or fathers failing to protect their children people who are supposed to keep you safe don't keep you safe they either hurt you directly or indirectly by turning a blind eye. Being a survivor of incest I am full of shame. I try and I try to let go of it to move away from it to move past it. It eats away at me. It is late at night and I cant make this a long post which is probably good. This morning though I got stuck in a sort of spiral. I was panicked and stressed out trying to find clothes I wanted to wear and as a result I yelled at my son and then when my husband told me not to he said it in a very tense critical tone of voice and then I felt even worse and I acted even worse. I cried I went on and on about what a terrible mother I felt I was. I honestly felt I was so bad I should die. I hate all my black and white thinking and all of it is about shame. I feel like if I have a flaw. If I have any flaw. If I am less than perfect then I need to die. I am not in danger of acting on this. I see it is black and white thinking. What makes it really bad is I have the thought and then that proves I am a bad mother to me. Or proves I am bad for whatever reason. I see a flaw feel I should die then the thought I should die proves I am flawed and I go in circles. When I was growing up my step father who I guess was an abuser and I get really confused about if the way he treated me was abuse or not. He used to lecture me on how I should hold grudges forever. Never ever forgive. How can I forgive myself when I was taught to never forgive? He also told me over and over never to trust therapists. Therapists make you think things happened that never happened. He said that to me! He was in therapy and he used to joke with my mom about how I would spend a fortune on therapy someday. He was full on contradictions. When his older brother died he cried like a baby because he had held grudges and not spoken to his brother for years because he had been abusive. His brother broke his arms as a child. He never got closure. My step father is probably dead and I have not spoken to him in over a decade.

So I am listening to the audio book I Thought It Was Just me (but it isn't) Telling the Truth About Perfectionism, Inadequacy, and Power by Brene Brown, Ph.D L.M.S.W and maybe this book will somehow help me with my shame. I see it all clearly. I see all these things I do but I can't simply change my thinking.

I feel like my amygdala is broken and I need to somehow heal it and I believe that because brains are so plastic it is heal-able but I don't understand how I do that.