What Is Healing?

When I first started out on this last leg of my healing journey…the awareness of DID and the realization of some of what had happened to me (which was an “aha-now I understand” time)…I had an idea in mind of what healing looked like. For me, it meant that my hard work (with G-d’s help) was somehow going to reverse all that had been done to me and there would be a complete merging which I called “integration”. I looked at it like a broken bone or a sickness. I wanted to be restored to the condition prior to the break of illness…or to be made even better. After all, they say a broken bone that heals is stronger in the area of the break and will never break exactly there again. I wanted to be like pre-DID and trauma.

Looking back, I would have to say that I was pretty naive, but not in a bad way. I believed what I needed to believe in order to start the journey and do what needed to be done. There were things I did not yet understand about DID and how abuse affects the brain. There were also implications in my view of healing that I did not fully think through…implications that would later change my view of healing…and again…not in a bad way.

Initially, my goal was simply to work on whatever needed to be worked. If I needed to face a memory…so be it. If I needed to reach out to an insider…so be it. Whether it was writing, listening, sharing, art…I did it. I believed that if I just kept doing what I was doing that integration/merging would occur naturally. It would not have to be forced. And it pretty much did happen that way. As I focused on healing, integration and merging seemed to happen almost seamlessly and without any real effort. Some of it happened in huge chunks during several days I spent with a counselor at her home. I stayed with her twice and through days of prayer and working with insiders massive amounts of integration/merging happened.

Over time, I came to realize that not all of healing is as simple as that. Now, I believe that a huge part of healing is to simply live my life…enjoying it as best I can…and seeing the beauty around me in addition to seeing what is evil in the world. I walk in the Spirit of the Creator, trusting Him to show me whatever I need to see and to help me with whatever I need help with. He has always been my greatest Healer…my best therapist. And He has helped me see that my idea of what healing looks like was very faulty.

I know the Creator can do anything and I believe He could even make it like nothing had happened…but that is not real. Like so many others, I had to come to terms with a childhood I simply never had. It was not just a matter of putting the brain back to how it was originally created. All my childhood experiences shaped and affected my brain. Removing the effects of the negative experiences does not replace them with the positive effects of the good things that never happened!

I also realized that all those things that did happen a part of what make who I am today. And even with all my foibles and what I perceive as “weakness” and “brokenness”, I am a pretty awesome person. I am a walking miracle and I am doing pretty darn good considering all I have been through. So, part of healing is also accepting imperfect functionality.

So…maybe…healing is not about restoration (like a broken leg). Maybe it is more about learning to live as I am and celebrating the me I have become and the me I am becoming. Maybe it is more about giving myself the freedom to enjoy life now…without guilt and with less and less impact coming from the past. It is about accepting imperfect functionality. (What is “perfect”, anyway?) It is about learning not to compare myself to others…not my abilities, my weaknesses or my strengths. Every one of us has abilities of some kind; we just don’t all have the same ones. We all have weaknesses and we all have strengths, regardless of how healed or broken we are. It is about not comparing my healing journey to another’s. We all walk on different paths.

I know I still have more to learn, but I carry one thing with me on my learning/healing journey…one very important thing. I know the Creator of all things and I know who I am in my Creator. I know I can trust Him to continue to lead me. Whatever is ahead, He will help me to face it.

It’s All About Trust…

Trusting that the Creator has a plan and that it is for our ultimate good.

Trusting that there is something better for us than this life.

Trusting that the Messiah’s love will continue to carry me through every storm of life.

Trusting that the Creator’s teachings are true and good…no matter how hard they may be or how my “self” chafes against them.

Trusting that He is G-d and I am not.

Trusting that my understanding is not infinite…that I am NOT all-knowing.

Trusting that I do not have to understand everything.

Trusting that my human sense of righteousness is not necessarily my Creator’s…mine is imperfect, while His is perfect.

Trusting that, like a child, I can trust my heavenly Abba/Father/Daddy…even when I do not understand.

Trusting that my Creator’s provision truly is enough for me.

Trusting that, when my Abba says “no”, it is for good reasons…even though I may not see those reasons now.

As I look at the list above, I see that trust is really tied a lot into understanding…or lack of understanding. There have been many times in my life when I thought and lived as a child. I wanted to understand like G-d (my Abba/Daddy) and I wanted to understand NOW. Just like the impetuous child who does not want to obey unless she fully understands (and agrees with) the why of the parent, I wanted to act and live on my own understanding and beliefs about how I thought life should be lived.

It took time, but I eventually outgrew my childishness…mostly. I still have my days, but they are much fewer and farther between…thankfully. Now I am better able to trust when I am walking through the mist…when I cannot see tomorrow. I am no longer afraid when things seem dark and I cannot see my way.

I am better able to remain calm and serene in the face of what appears to be “impending doom” because I have learned that things are not what they seem to be with the human eye and heart. I know that Abba has a bigger plan and that the ‘powers that be’ are going to crumble. I know things are going to get tougher in the world and in our country, but I am not afraid, for I know He walks with me.

What is healing…

I am not really sure what healing looks like. I think it is different for each person. After years of looking at it, I still don’t have a solid definition, but I can share with you some things that sure look like healing for me.

Healing Is

Healing is being able to laugh…even in the midst of pain.

Healing is being able to cry…even when others are around.

Healing is being able to somewhat identify what I am feeling,
and hopefully…even being able to have an idea of WHY I am feeling it.

Healing is knowing when I need to decompress,
being able to identify safe places to decompress,
and then…doing it.

Healing is being able to sense whether a person or place is safe
And then being able to keep myself safe.

Healing is being able to find joy in life.

Healing is being able to see good things…even when bad things are happening.

Healing is being able to have gratitude for what I do have
rather than bemoaning what I don’t.

Healing is being able to be productive in some way every day
even if I am the only one who recognizes it.

Healing is being able to take a step forward,
no matter how tiny
and even if it is only in my heart.

Healing is being able to face some aspect of my past…without completely crumbling.

Healing is being able to recognize that some part of my history,
no matter how small or big,
no longer has a hold on me.

Healing is being able to make plans…and know that they might actually happen!

Healing is being able to say that I made it through
another minute,
another day,
another hour,
another week,
another month,
another year,
another anniversary,
another flashback,
another body memory,

Healing is having the freedom to fully unleash my creativity and
sing again,
play music again,
write again,
talk again,
share again.

Healing is being able to give without manipulation
and receive without manipulation
even more importantly… recognizing the difference.

Healing is being to allow myself to truly love
and open myself to the potential for heartache without fear,
knowing that I can rise above anything that happens.

Healing is allowing myself to trust others
and being trustworthy myself.

Healing is giving myself permission to live life to the fullest
without thinking much about healing or hurting or my history.
It is allowing myself to temporarily “forget” that I even have an abusive history.

Healing is knowing that I was a victim who dared to survive
and am now a survivor who dares to thrive.

Healing is being able to put words to my experiences,
words like
“rape”
and “sexual abuse”
and “incest”
and “satanic ritual abuse”.
And healing is to put them without capital letters because
I am bigger and taller and stronger than they are
and I refuse to give them capital letter power in my life.

Healing is being able to cry and know that I am OK
and everything will be alright.

Healing is being able to see my Creator’s love for me
even when I know I don’t deserve it.

Healing is being able to see His hand in my life…even during the most awful of experiences.

Healing is being able to see His protection and how He got me through.

I may think of more things to add to that list. As I do, I may edit

Being a Warrior and a Survivor…

I am a fighter…and I recognize that it is my Creator who gave me that ability to fight.

I am a survivor…and it is my Creator who brought me through all the hell to get to the wonderful place I am today.

I am filled with the Shalom of my Messiah Yeshua and it is His Ruach/Spirit that has helped me all along my healing journey.

I am a warrior, too. So, what is the difference between a fighter and a warrior? I think there is a lot. I started out as a fighter, fighting my way through what was going on in order to survive. I fought to be “sane” (whatever that means). I fought to make it through the day. I fought to stay alive. I fought to hide my true self from everyone around me. I fought to look “normal” so no one would know the truth. I fought and I fought and I fought, but it was a fighting that was based more upon instinctively swinging my “arms” to fend off an enemy.

Over time, though, I became a warrior. I went on the offensive. And that is when things really started to change. That is when the evil I was fighting really started to show itself for what it was…dark and malevolent. It was not that I did not see that before. It was not that I was not doing some warrior fighting before. But there came a time in my life when I had no choice but to come out swinging on the offensive. I had to for the safety of my youngest.

My battle to survive and just make it through life slowly transformed into a battle of fighting back until the fighting back became the main thing. After years of feeling as if I were struggling just to keep my head above water so I could breath, I slipped into years of taking ground. I started to fight for real healing.

There are some who decry the term “survivor”, as if that is somehow less than or as if it somehow holds us back. We must never use that term, but must instead call ourselves “thrivers”…or some other term to define who we are.

But I AM a survivor! I have survived horrendous things and made it out the end! I am PROUD of that. Being a survivor means they did not win! A cancer survivor is one who has conquered cancer. No one would ever think of telling him or her not to use that term! So, why is it not OK for us who have survived extreme abuse?

I am a survivor! I am alive! I am “sane”…well, I guess that may depend upon your definition of “sane”. I am smiling as I write that. I am HERE! I did not die. I did not end up in a mental ward. I did not end up in jail. I did not end up dead. I have a good marriage. I made it out of all the abuse. Yes, it took years to do. Yes, I am still partially amnesic. Yes, I have a lot of healing left to do. But I am ALIVE! I no longer answer to my abusers. Hallelu Yah!

I am both a survivor AND a thriver. You see, I don’t see it as an either/or kind of thing. I am both! And I am grateful. I can see the beauty in life and share it with others. Here is some of that beauty now.

 

 

Why Can’t I…

Why can’t I feel without being overwhelmed by it? Well, let me clarify, it is not that feeling is always overwhelming, but that feelings connected with remembering are overwhelming. I have already written about this, especially in the previous two posts.

It is a question that is nagging at me. I need the time and space to work on this. I find myself feeling overwhelmed with all that is on my plate. Yet, I am able to keep on moving. Now, it is after midnight and I am, obviously, still up. Could it be that I don’t really want to go to bed because of the time of year? Last night was the first night of sleeping all the way through after several nights in a row of waking up in the wee hours of the morning unable to go back to sleep. Thankfully, I just talk to the L-rd and that helps. I also did a little bit of talking (well…thinking) to myself.

I really need to find out what is going on with me.

I would really like to know…

I would really like to know why it is that even fairly recent memories often times trigger huge emotional surges. Why do positive memories evoke the same surges? And I am not talking about something grand like a wedding or something you would expect to bring an emotional high. I am talking about a PTSD-like reaction to common place memories…both from long ago and from the last few years.

I wonder if there is something in these positive and neutral memories and in the more recent memories that is tapping into the past negative ones. Could it be that there are triggers that relate to the past?

Or…could it be the time of year is also affecting me? Overall, it does not feel like it. And this has not just happening recently. I have been this way for a very, very long time. There is something about remembering that affects me. I either remember differently from others or I remember with an emotional surge. Or at least that is for the majority of memories.

I have lain in bed and started to recall something (not a new memory…something I already knew) and I would suddenly start to shake and I would find myself pushing the memory away. Why????

My flashbacks have almost always been the body/emotional kind. Only once in a while would I get the visual kind. When I do get the visual, it is almost always a really quick flash and a huge surge of emotion…PTSD time. I don’t have the space and time to really explore this, so I am just trying to live with it. Ugh!

So, here are my thoughts, for whatever they are worth. I hope that writing will help inside.

Things I have been pondering…

I have been thinking about what to write here…the thoughts kind of going around in my head and heart. I am not sure what is going on with me.

When we moved into this house, I thought I would have some space and freedom to do any healing work that needed to be done…while, at the same time, not really being sure of what that work might be. Randy Noblitt told me on the phone about 2 years ago that he thought my system was shut down. Is it? Or is it just so blended that it appears that way? Since he has not worked with me, can he really make that kind of assessment?

I know I am still partially amnesic, but I am not sure how much. I still don’t remember my sister growing up in the same house with me. That is pretty huge…no way around that. But I don’t think blending automatically brings recall. My former counselor knows of quite a few survivors who blended and the memories came later…or some not at all.

Splitting is one form of protection and self-preservation. So is repressing. How much memory recall (or lack of) is due to repression and how much is due to splitting? I don’t know and I don’t know of any way TO know.

Lately, I seem to be getting a few flashes. Can’t tell you what they are because I don’t remember. I find it easy to shove stuff like that aside, but I think something is brewing. I just am not sure what. I am thinking it may be time to talk to “myself” again…like I did a lot in the beginning of this journey.

There is something I notice about myself that might be key to what is going on. When I think about things in the past, I almost always get a surge of emotion. It does not matter what I am remembering. It could be something positive and I get the same surge. It is puzzling to me. And it does not have to be the long ago past, either. It is as if the PTSD element of my mind and emotions is linked to ALL my memories…even fairly recent ones. Why is that?

Of course, our living situation for the last few years before getting into this house was enough to cause PTSD in many people. I have been told time and again by so many that they could not do and they did not know how I did. I just tell them it was the L-rd, plain and simple. He got me through it.

Now I live in an unfinished house that is a bit cluttered and I long for some semblance of order. My husband’s work schedule is all over the map…constantly changing hours and days off…totally inconsistent. It is affecting our whole family. It feels impossible to get into any kind of real routine.

So, I just keep moving forward…I think, anyway. On the one hand, I seem to be doing OK and, on the other hand, I am struggling. This introvert with PTSD is feeling rather drained. And yet, I DO get a lot done.  Just not all I WANT to get done.

I am doing some PSE 8 “art” work…mostly stuff with words that I post on FB. I am fighting for my country on FB. I am home educating high school. And several months ago, I picked up my guitar again after over 12 years of not playing. When the memories started to come and the DID became obvious, everything else in my life pretty much came to a screeching halt as I sought healing.

Now, I am picking it back up and I am singing “publicly” again. I know better than to push forward too hard or too fast. I am singing this Sunday…twice. Do I feel ready? Maybe. I have sung twice now at two singfests. The first time I blew everyone and myself away. I felt like I was “back in the saddle”.

The second time I felt some of the pressure of their expectations. Plus, the mic setup was awkward compared to the first time. It was more chaotic. But the feedback I got was good. Once I am up there and I just start, I get into it and let the music and the Ruach/Spirit take me away. If I can ever get it to be quiet enough in here, I might try recording on my laptop. It probably won’t sound all that good, but I can try.

So, here I am…trying to get my thoughts together, feeling like I am rambling. I have had things to share for some time, but simply not been able to find the words. It is hard for me to understand myself what is going on.

But this I know. The time is short. I am watching what is happening in the world and in my country and I truly believe we don’t have that long before Messiah returns. So, how much time and energy should I try to spend on healing? I really don’t know. I have learned to take each day as it comes. If the right setting and opportunity come along for healing work…I will take advantage of it. So far, it simply has not been here.

I am going to throw some stuff away in the office. That might help. Then I can try to create some kind of space for personal healing. Maybe.

Don’t know if any of this made much sense to anyone, but I just wanted to finally take some time to get some thoughts out…even if they are a bit disjointed.

Joel Rosenberg – Epicenter

I like Joel. He really seems to have a fairly good understanding of what is going on the Epicenter. He is not presumptuous, but just shares his observations…from the heart. You can tell he is a caring man.

There is an Epicenter conference going on this week and the following video is the first talk, which he gave last night. I found a little bit of everything in his words…comfort, challenge, some things I definitely needed to hear.

http://epicenterconference.com/media/videoPlayer/epicenter_2012_joel_c_rosenberg

As a survivor, I like to think I am ready for anything, or at least better prepared than most, but I know I am not. I look at the world and I see things that look very scary…from a merely human perspective. It is only when I look from G-d’s perspective that I can be calm about things. My grounding comes from standing upon the Rock of my Messiah…Yeshua/Jesus. I look at what He said and at the Holy Scriptures that speak of Him and of the end and I know I am in His hands.

I will not be afraid. What can mere man do to me? I have survived so much already. He will get me through whatever is to come. I need to remember that and keep it in the forefront of my mind and heart.

We are approaching the feast of Yom Teruah…the Feast of Trumpets…Rosh HaShanah…the New Year. The trumpet/shofar is blown on Rosh HaShanah and on some other Fall Feasts. Whenever we approach this time of year I am reminded that Yeshua will return at the sound of the trumpet. Will it be like the silver trumpets they used at the temple? Or will it be a shofar? I don’t know. I just know that I am listening for it…and especially so at this time of year because all the feasts are prophetic in nature…shadows of what is/was to come.

Yeshua fulfilled the Spring feasts the first time He came and He will fulfill the Fall feasts when He comes back to judge the world and reign from the New Jerusalem. I wait with anticipation for His coming. I have chosen to cast my lot with the people of the G-d of Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov. I worship Him and His Messiah…Yeshua. I love and serve Eloheinu and am a disciple of the Rabbi Yeshua.

No matter what happens…I will ultimately be OK. I will not fear wars and rumors of wars. I will not fear my government. I will not fear Islam. I will not the evil and debauchery and disregard for life and biblical values that has overtaken my country. I…will…be…OK! My name is in the palm of my G-d…written so that it cannot be erased. I am His and He is mine.

Been thinking about…

One of my sons has been creating a list of the places he has lived. He wants to write a “tell all”, which he tells me he will redact before he lets anyone else read it. In the process of helping him to pinpoint exact addresses, I did some Google searching.

Wow! Talk about being able to see the houses, up front and close. You can see overhead and you can see from the street. I was able to get all the addresses, but one. That one I nailed down to one or two possibilities, though.

The places we lived hold a lot of emotions and memories for me. So, to say it was a bit difficult at times is a bit of an understatement. As I “went” to place after place, I thought of people and events that happened in those place. Of all the places I “visited”, though, one really holds a mystery.

We used to live in an apartment. Someone took me for a drive one late afternoon up into the hills behind the house. I remember going through the trees and on the windy road for a while. I think I remember him asking me about going somewhere. I believe he also asked me if I was thirsty. Bingo! I suspect I was slipped one of those drugs that causes you to forget…a date rape drug.

The next thing I remember is that, all of a sudden, it was dark and I had no idea where we were. We were still (?) in the car and I remember commenting on the fact that it was dark and wondering when it got dark. I asked where we were and he told me. We were a lot farther from home than I had intended to go. He said he wanted to go on to a town I knew for dinner, but I just wanted to go home. He told me that we were not far from the freeway and I told him to take me home. All I could think of was getting home to my children ASAP.

He did take me home. My children were OK, although they were wondering where I had been. I had said something to them about going for a drive, but I did NOT expect to be gone so long and I certainly did not know that “dinner” was part of the drive. Nor did I know about whatever it was that happened during the blackout time.

The next day, I received a huge bouquet of red roses at work. It came with a note that said something about being sorry. And that was it. We never spoke again. The upside is that, when I heard there were roses for me at the front desk, I thought they came from someone else. The disappointment I felt when they did not, woke me up to the fact that I had grown to love the man who later became my husband. So sweet came out of oddity and blessing out of the weirdness.

My focus switched so much away from the drive that I never really did put things together until years later. It finally became obvious that something had happened and that I must have been slipped something. Either that, or he knew programming. He was an alcoholic, which means the cult could easily manipulate him. But I know he really did like me. He even wanted to marry me. So, I think the apology was sincere. It is just that he never told me what it was for…naturally.

Was it date rape? Was it a cult accessing and he was the one to get me there? Was he in the cult (although I do doubt that)? I don’t know and, at this late date (almost 20 years later), I suppose it does not really matter. It was just the last couple of days of  ”been thinking about”…

 

Thinking back…

In between preparing for another year of home schooling and a potential huge change in our living situation, I have been thinking about why I was so triggered the other day. I think I know why.

There are some who interpret scripture in such a way as to say that an abused wife must stay with her husband…that is is G-d’s will for her to do so! The scriptures they use to “justify” this position are not really saying that at all.

It is really frustrating when people take English translations and make dogmas out of them not realizing that there is no precise translation from one language to another. Word for word is impossible and, sometimes, even thought for thought is a real challenge. You have to take so many things into consideration. The author. The audience. The culture. The language. The idioms. The style of writing. The style of expression. How the author likely meant it and how it would have been understood by the reader/listener.

What is even harder is when I run into someone who is unwilling to even hear about these things. They simply want it to say what they want it to say. The idea that they might be wrong is simply not acceptable to them. They do not want their “world” to be shaken. And I can understand that…I truly can. I have had some major paradigm shifts in my own understanding of G-d and the scriptures. And there was a time when my self-confidence, my self-image, was very dependent upon my being “correct”. But sooner or later we need to mature and grow and heal so that we can truly say, “Show me the Truth, L-rd. Show me the Truth!”…even when it is something that is uncomfortable…something I do not like or really want to see.

While these people are annoying, that is not what was so triggering. It was the idea that an abused wife should stay with her husband…that she has no real recourse. That makes the woman (and, potentially, her children) trapped in a situation that will only perpetuate the abuse on to the next generation if it is not stopped. It also has to potential to damage the children’s relationship with, and understanding of, G-d.

Children tend to view G-d in the same way they view their fathers, which is not surprising given that G-d presents Himself as a “Father”, even though G-d actually has no gender or has even both. We are made in His image…male and female. When children are abused in the home it tends to cloud their image of G-d. When they are abused in the church, or by church people, or in the “name of G-d” (which is a lie, for G-d does not approve of abuse), children tend to get confused about the nature and character of G-d…and understandably so.

I had scriptures used against me by my abusers. My father quoted the commandment to honor my parents to me…while either not understanding what “honor” really means…or understanding and simply being manipulating. I was even an adult at the time! Oh, I have been accused of breaking a few commandments. I have had spirituality used against me by church leaders. And I have had spirituality used in very healing ways.

But back to being triggered. I think it was the idea of the woman being trapped…no way out…no recourse…no support. Now way to turn…no where to run. When someone tells me that, it is very difficult to not view that person as either an abuser currently, or a non-abuser who would turn a deaf ear and blind eye, or a potential future abuser. You see, this kind of belief gives the husband a kind of power that I do not believe G-d ever intended in His word. And we know what a lot of power can do to some people. I shudder to think of it.

I believe that the triggering is a form of emotional flashback. I was thrown back, in essence, to the time when I felt trapped…whether as a child or an adult…to a time when I felt helpless and hopeless. Thankfully, that is no longer my life, but I sure can get triggered and thrown back into that emotional state.

Life Is Good…

Life is good…I cannot complain. I am growing spiritually and some mighty big changes might be around the corner. Right now I am pretty tired and is late, but I just wanted to check in. I talking to my former therapist once a month. That feels good. It isn’t really therapy. In fact, I don’t know that it ever really has been. She was always an amazing, understanding support to me. It is nice to just be able to check in with her. I do still miss being able to see her. It always felt more like visiting with a mentor than it did seeing a therapist.

Life is good…I am slowly getting into a bit of a routine even though hubby works a really odd schedule that is practically no schedule at all. I pretty much get up around the same time every day…regardless of when I go to bed. That is a step in the right direction. Every once in a while I oversleep, but I think I am just catching up on my sleep from the nights when I don’t quite get enough.

Life is good…I am loved by my husband and children. I am loved by the L-rd G-d of Heaven and earth. I know who I am…even if I am still a bit amnesic. The amnesia does not really bother me. I know who I am. I know enough about what I have been through that the rest does not matter. I do admit that it still feels kind of weird not remembering living with my sister. But what I do remember does not encourage me to want to remember any more.

Life is good…my body seems to be healing. (I will claim that it is.) I am at peace with my G-d, with myself and with my fellow-man. Although there are some who have issue with me…I am OK with that. I am OK with seeing things differently. I am OK with agreeing to disagree. For me, disagreeing does not mean being disagreeable. It just means being different.

Life is good…my world may be changing in a big way again…soon. Although I am not a huge fan of change, there are changes that are very good. If this one happens…it will be very good.

Life is good…I feel my creativity is sparking up again. I like that. It is fun. I am being challenged in some areas and I am holding my own. That feels good. I am doing OK. Yay!

Life is good…I feel SAFE! I hope you do, too.

I hope that life is good for you, too.

Being triggered…

There is a fairly new blog on the scene called She’s Somebody’s Daughter.  Actually, there are two. The other one is called Music for the Soul. Both blogs are offshoots of the site called Music for the Soul. I have known about the main site for some time. They have some wonderful music for healing and comfort. And now they have the blogs.

I am making my way through them. Recently I read a post that was very triggering. You can find it here: He Said, She Said. Now, to be clear, quite a few articles on these two blogs have the potential to be triggering, especially the She’s Somebody’s Daughter blog. These articles deal with abuse. When I read the He Said, She Said blog I wanted to cry.  I was hit with a wave of emotion.

When a person has been abused, it can be very difficult to read, or hear, about abuse. It can resurrect all kinds of feelings connected to our own abuse history. And abuse makes me angry. This was not some theoretical situation. It really happened!

I have had to ask myself why it was so triggering, though. I have come along way in my healing…or so I thought. If I am gut level honest,  I have to say that I am angry because I don’t know that I would have reacted in the right way had I been there. I have been programmed since childhood to let things go…to not make waves…and, most importantly, to question reality.

My first reaction would have been to question what I had just seen or heard…whether it was directed at me or at someone else. If no one else, especially the perceived victim, did not react, I would most likely have stayed silent when I should been putting this lout in his place! And THAT is how this junk keeps on happening. Because the programming can still be strong and the knee-jerk reaction is to have no reaction.

I cannot count the number of times that I have “allowed” abusive behaviour in my life. I am ill-equipped to say “no”. Thankfully, there has not been any in years. Still, I cannot help but wonder what I would do if I ran into someone who dared to do the unthinkable…especially in the unlikeliest of places…in front of others. Would I be able to allow myself to make waves, to become the center of some unwanted attention?

It is the silence of others that helps the victim think she/he has no right to complain…that this is somehow “OK”. And it is the silence of the victim that contributes to others thinking it really is not bad behaviour. What a Catch-22! Victims have often had their voice taken away from them. The adult that does not react is most likely the child who was abused and not allowed to share.

So, I ask myself…if it happened to me, would  have been strong enough to stand up to it? Would I have been terrified of losing my job? Would I have been afraid that others would think I was just over-reacting or being needlessly prudish? Would I have had the guts to get in the face of a guy who slapped me on the rear end? I pray that I would deal with it…swiftly and firmly.

Yet, I also know that there may be programming still buried inside…not yet broken and cleared out. I won’t see another therapist who understands ritual abuse, even if I were to get the money, because I won’t risk a repeat of what happened the last time. I want to stay safe. I don’t want to be triggered into another rape. Programming can be hard to deal with, but I am determined to keep on fighting so that incidents like this one won’t happen on MY watch…to me or anyone around me!

So, yeah, reading it was a bit triggering. It reminded me of things I prefer to forget…until Yeshua tells me that it is time to look at them. But it also reminded me that there is more to work on.

I suggest checking out the main site and the blogs…especially the music. I hope you will find something that speaks healing to your heart…and maybe you can contribute something to help the cause.

I hope this post makes sense. I just replaced my keyboard and some of the keys are not working correctly. It is very distracting having to retype and go back and fix everything. If you see typos, please be gracious.

Life Goes On…

I had a wonderful time of reflection. Since it was time alone interspersed with hubby being around, I was also busy with other things. But the times alone that I got were precious and very refreshing. I am working on finding ways to continue it in smaller time periods.

I got the chance to talk with my former therapist and we are going to do a once a month check in which I SO appreciate. She is a wonderful woman to bounce things off of. She knows me well, walked me through some really tough times and I know she shoots straight with me. She also loves unconditionally and is a woman of G-d. She understands my spirit as well as my experiences.

I am slowly reworking my priorities…for a better heart connection with my Creator and for a better all around life. There will always be challenges and struggles in life and I believe our country is headed for some tougher times if we don’t repent and turn back to G-d. I want to be ready and the readiest I can be is to be as close as I can with my Creator…with my heavenly Abba/Daddy/Father and my Messiah…Yeshua.

I hope you are all ready for what is coming down the road. I know I sure don’t “feel” ready. I am totally relying upon Yeshua to get me through it.

Entering Into a Period of Reflection

I am taking time this next week to reflect on my life and on what I am supposed to do with my time and energy…such as it is. I have been feeling overwhelmed and too busy. I need a break…a rest…and I am taking one. With one third of my family gone, I am using the time alone to just spend time with G-d…to seek His wisdom and guidance. I hope to start doing more writing, but I am not really sure, yet, where writing will fit. I know it will be there…just not sure where…yet.

I have a phone appointment with my old therapist this week. I really miss her and am going to ask how much it would cost to do a once a month call. I really feel that I need to have SOMEONE I can talk to about the realities of my life…someone who will understand and who knows me.

My life has been going through some major shifts in understanding…especially in the realm of spirituality. I still worship the Creator as is revealed in the Bible, but my understanding is way deeper. Some might call me a heretic, but there a lot of others like me out there.

Meredith wrote recently about pushing through life. That really struck a chord with me because that is the way I have been feeling for a long time. I am tired of pushing through. I need to find out what the Creator wants me to do…not what I want to do or what others want me to do. I know that my greatest fulfillment will come in doing what I am called to do.

Feeling out of touch…

Ahh…here it is!

Life can be difficult enough as one who has been through serious trauma. Add to that the changes that take place in day to day life and it can be difficult at times to find my footing. It is helpful to have things I can do to help ground me and bring some continuity into my life. Most of the things that really help me, though, are still out of reach.

For example, a regular routine would be nice, along with some alone time. My hubby is finally back to work, but his schedule is as frustrating to him as it to me. His days off and hours worked on those days are always changing from week to week. He never gets two days off in a row. It makes it hard to plan when you don’t know his schedule more than a week or two in advance. They don’t even post the schedule on a consistent date.

Our son is home educated, which is fine, but he is so far behind that he will be schooling through the next couple of months. That means he won’t be able to take days off to go work for someone here and there doing odd jobs. No real alone time for me. Plus, I need to be available to help him with his schooling although, thankfully, he is able to do most of his work independently. (One bright spot, though…he will be gone for about a week sometime this month.)

I really miss being able to soak in the bathtub. I call it “cheap therapy”.  What a wonderful thing to be able to just sit behind a closed door and soak away the stresses of this life and this healing journey. It has been seven and a half years since I had regular access to a bathtub and, boy, has that been felt. I miss it SO much and, even now, just writing about it makes me want it. We have the bathtub, but it isn’t finished to the point of being able to use it.

Then there are the regular times of meeting with someone. I miss being able to just go in every week and know that I had one hour in which to talk about anything I wanted/needed to talk about. No judgment. No lack of understanding. Full acceptance. Unconditional love. To just be able to have a sounding board for the events of my life and how I was handling them. It wasn’t even about “therapy”. We both agreed that I pretty much did that on my own. It was just about being able to put my thoughts and feelings into some sort of order and be able to articulate them to someone who really cared and understood and who had the expertise and knowledge to put things in perspective.

Journaling helps, but it really does not help nearly as much if someone else isn’t reading it. In other words, writing for myself is not as effective and helpful as writing for someone else. I started journaling because life’s events were happening too fast for me to be able to share with my therapist without taking the whole session time each week. So we agreed that I would journal and email it to her so she would be caught up by session time. That really helped because she knew what was going on and she knew how I was handling it. She gave me feedback, if she felt I needed it, during the session and we could work on anything of concern. In fact, many times, she was going to bring something up, but found that I had already handled it by session time. It was important to know that someone was reading what I wrote and keeping an eye on my progress. I really miss that. Blogging is sort of like that, but not really. People may or may not respond and there is no real continuity. Plus, I don’t typically go as deep with blogging as I would with private journaling.

When I first moved here, I tried doing phone sessions. She agreed to it because we had worked together well for some time. But it was awkward. So, I tried to find a local therapist while she and I continued to talk a couple of times a year. Working with the local therapist turned into a nightmare. Even if I had the money, I am not sure I would ever work with a “local” one again. I put local in quotes because there is no such thing as truly “local” where I live. The closest ones are about an hour and half away.

I recently left a message for my former therapist to talk with her again. I have NO idea how I will be able to afford it, but I am asking her about the cost of maybe a once a month time of talking. I really feel as if I need to be able to check in with someone on a regular basis and I just don’t know of anyone like that around here. Naturally, I prefer face to face, but phone will have to do. Although, after reading the post by Dr. Kathleen Young that I shared two posts back, now I am wondering if maybe she has Skype. It would be SO nice to be able to see her, as well as talk to her again.