Archive for the ‘abuse’ Category

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Thinking of my sis

March 12, 2021

Lately, I have been more aware of my sis’s death and life. I wish I knew more of her life, but then I don’t. I know her life was as much as hell as mine was. No one makes it unscathed in a generational ritual abuse family. No one. My parents didn’t and we didn’t.

I have been writing about grief lately, triggered by thoughts of my sis. I thought of her on her birthday even more this year than usual. I thought of her leading up to her birthday. She has just been more and more on my mind

She died/was killed on my birthday. Yeah, no warning there. I was away getting memories back and doing healing work. I never got a chance to confirm with her what I remembered for she was taken away. As for the group…well, let’s just say I am not the only one who does not think the timing of her death was a coincidence. It was a warning to me.

Realistically, I doubt she could have told me much. She was, most likely, as amnesic as I was (and to some degree, still am). Plus, she would have been afraid–afraid I would “tell” on her. I would not have understood that back then as much as I do now.

My memories of her are scarce, even though we lived in the same house for at least 10 years. I remember when she was born and not much else while we shared houses. I look back and simply do not see her present. Yet, I do know she was. Of that I have no doubt.

Part of grief is realizing what we have lost in the what-could-have-been category. We were sisters and even though we were almost eight years apart, we should have been able to be closer. I should have been able to be the big sister she needed. But I couldn’t be. I should have been able to have a relationship with her untainted by the “job” I had to do with her. (No wonder it has been so challenging to grieve.)

I was given an offer for some free products from a healing music site. I have interfaced with the founder for several years via email. He knows my “history”, somewhat. No one knows it all for it is too horrific to share. People don’t understand these kinds of horrors. Anyway, as I went to the site, I knew what I was looking for… music on grieving for her.

It’s time. I have been sensing it was time. Do I like the “timing” of this in my life? No. But then, is there ever a good time to grieve? Of course, I have to answer that with a yes. I guess it is more a matter of it being a convenient time rather than a good time. Grief is good and the time for grieving is good. It’s just not always convenient.

So, I am awaiting the delivery of the music and I will be taking some time to grieve, interwoven with needing to also live life. I will have to do the two side by side. I wish there was a grieving group for this kind of thing, but there isn’t. I mean, I am sure there is a group for grieving a death, but it is not very accessible to me. Perhaps online?

I am going to kick this off. I don’t have the energy to do a thorough proofread, so show me some grace if you see any typos or needed edits. I am grieving. The process began months ago, but it is now “official”, I guess.

I am grieving. I didn’t know about kaddish when she died. Is it too late now? I believe in my heart it is never too late. Creator G-D is eternal and outside of time.

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Human Trafficking

February 26, 2021

This is very hard to write about. If you are squeamish, you might want to pass.

This whole subject can be very triggering for me and, yet, I cannot stay away from it. People simply have NO idea how bad it really is…what is actually happening. (You still have a chance to leave this post.)

Every time I read about women and children being rescued and trafficking perpetrators being jailed, a part of me rejoices. A part of me breathes a sigh of relief for those rescued and I feel gratitude for the rescuers.

My heart also breaks as I am also reminded there are so many more still trapped. Still being tortured. Still being killed. Still being used in pornography. Still being used sexually in so many different perverted ways. Still being sacrificed in sick rituals. Still having organs and blood harvested (think adrenochrome) while they are alive. And, yes, they are even eaten. If only they were all killed first…or at least put under before these things are done to them. But they are not. These people are SICK!

So, another part of me is holding my breath, longing to see the whole cursed thing brought down around their heads. Longing to see the world rid of this horrible, demonic evil. I am walking around in anticipation.

My heart also breaks for those rescued. While the physical part is over, the rest of it is not. Those rescued are so broken. Some were bred in baby farms for just this purpose. It is all they have ever known. Born and sacrificed. Born and abused. Imagine the mothers being used as a baby factory and having every child ripped from them. The heartache never stops.

Yes, we can and do get “better”, but it will never be like it never happened. Some of these scars are faded. But it does not always take much for them to become red and inflamed once again. Even when there is trauma amnesia, it is still inside. You can get triggered and not even be sure why. You can get flashes of things from the fringes of your memory and not be sure what they even are about.

How much of this is my experience? Unknown. I have remembered enough of my family history to know it was ugly. I have remembered enough to know I don’t want to remember any more. I have experienced rituals, killing, sexual abuse, being filmed… and more. I rarely talk about it. Most people have no clue and would not even begin to understand. The parts I do not consciously remember, I know about and I react to. I am sensitive to it.

So, my heart breaks over and over again. I mean, seriously, how can it not? How can anyone who knows the truth NOT have a broken heart? I saw a video on this and it said something about, “those who know cannot sleep at night.” Those who know are driven to rescue as many as they possibly can. They cannot live a life of peace knowing what these women and children are going through. I guess I have an advantage. Having gone through so many horrific things starting as a very young child, I developed the ability to dissociate and I have trauma amnesia. I feel for the rescuers. It is not as easy for them to separate themselves from it. There is vicarious trauma.

So, I sit here writing, so aware of my brokenness, so aware of my powerlessness, with emotions just ready to come spilling out. I am thankful for this blog where I can write about things I may not have the opportunity to talk about. Try finding someone who can handle it!

If you have made it to the end of this post, I am in awe of you. I respect you in ways you cannot even begin to understand. The voiceless need a voice. I have been voiceless and, to some degree, still am. But I am fighting now to speak my story to anyone who will listen with an open mind and heart. It starts here with this blog. But it is also starting to happen, in little bits, outside of this blog.

You also have a challenge. You now know the truth. Do a search on human trafficking and you will find more than you ever wanted to know. The real question is…what will you do with it? If you turn a blind eye and are not part of the solution, then you are part of the problem. This is a scourge and there are many things you can do.

First, if someone honors you with a little bit of their story, LISTEN to them and BELIEVE them. Check your skepticism at the door. Whether you can accept the reality of the events shared or not, know this. It is real to them. Honor their trust in you by trusting them. Try and be a support for them in whatever way you can. Oftentimes, the most powerful form of support is to simply listen and accept them as they are. Help them to know you do not think they are “weird”. They aren’t. Whatever hangups they have, they are normal for what they have experienced. Encourage them in their journey to find some kind of healing.

Second, learn what you can about human trafficking. If you can donate to the rescuers, do so. Even if you can’t, you can pray for them. Maybe even write some encouraging words to them.

Third, educate others about what you have learned. Help wake people up. This whole evil system IS coming down and the survivors are going to need a LOT of support. The more people who can be aware of it all, the more the rescued can, hopefully, find support and acceptance.

(If you have read this because you are just a sick pervert who gets off on reading this kind of stuff, take this with you. You are part of the problem. You will be held accountable some day. Creator is real and He does not like it when His children…the people He made in His image…are hurt like this. You have been warned.)

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Obedience – the Key to True Peace!

October 19, 2020

Obedience is key to peace, but obedience to who? Not my abusers! That never brings any true lasting peace. And not to any false gods. That, too, will not bring true lasting peace. There is only One to whom I give my obedience (outside of legitimate civil authorities) and that is the One True God–Creator G-D.

Creator G-D has given me His teachings, His laws, His commands for my benefit. They are there to protect me. When I follow them, I know that I am doing what He knows is best for me. When I obey them, I am keeping myself within His will, His guidance, His protection. I cannot expect Him to watch over me and protect me when I am willfully disobeying His teachings!

In order to obey His teachings, I need to know what they are. To know what they are, I need to read them and study them. I also need to ask Him to show me how to apply them to my life–to give me understanding. He promises to give me wisdom if I will just ask for it.

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The Puppet Master

July 16, 2020
Who are you and who am I?
You worked so hard to blur the lines
to splinter me into a thousand pieces
and, yet, become one with you.
You! Who are you?
Who the heck are you?
Do you even know
as you do your master's bidding?
I feel the pain inside me
wanting to come out,
but that is not all I see.
I also see the pain inside you,
the pain you try to hide
behind, "I don't remember doing that".
You triggered my programming
every chance you got.
You pushed me hard to make me break
in order to keep you safe.
You never could get that I did/do love you
in spite of all you have done.
I know you are broken.
Do you?
Are you as painfully aware of your brokenness 
as I am of mine? 
Or am I the first generation?
I have prayed for you to find freedom
as I have done,
for your bonds to be released
as mine have,
for your heart and spirit to heal
as have mine.
I am not there, yet, 
and won't be until the end.
But I am not what I was.
I am no longer a puppet
to be used for their purposes,
for your purposes.
You cannot pull my strings anymore
for they have been cut,
severed,
burned,
gone!
I no longer respond to the cues,
to the unspoken (and spoken)
requests hiding behind your (and their) words and actions.
No more acts.
And though I'm still not fully healed
from the blood that was shed
or the acts committed
I will continue to grow.
I am strong in the Creator,
not the one you tried
to make Him out to be,
the real One.
All glory to the One True God!
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Where Have I Been?

March 25, 2020

I finally came back to this blog and was surprised to see I had comments to approve. Not sure why I didn’t receive notifications telling me. So, where have I been?

Well, life has been happening. Our youngest son is still estranged from me, but is talking to his father. So, that is a positive. I have gotten back into recovery rooms. That is a positive. I got back in with 28 years of sobriety and now sponsor women.

Overall, I have been doing well, but last October I did get triggered very badly. I cannot believe what some people think are appropriate or good decorations. I mean, come on. Who in their right mind thinks some guy dangling a baby upside down over a big can of some kind is a good thing?

Now, you would think I would have been smart. There is a road along the river that suddenly curves around a corner and there was the display. It kind of smacked you in the face. I noticed it, but didn’t really get triggered by it. I just thought it was disgusting. But, I did not think to remember it being there and to turn left at the street prior. It was just a minor blip the first time.

The second time, though, I had forgotten about it and that time it really smacked me in the face. I went to the store and, in the parking lot, called the guy, but that call was almost as triggering as the display. He told me no one had complained except a guy in an apartment across the street who said the screaming was too loud. I am so glad I saw it when it was turned off. I think it might have been moving, but I did not hear anything that I can recall. After that, I went to a recovery meeting and spent almost the whole meeting trying to get grounded. I was shaking inside so badly.

I don’t recall the last time I got so triggered. I mean, this was really bad. People who have not lived what SRA survivors have lived have zero comprehension. However, you would think the average ordinary person would be turned off and disgusted by such a display anyway. I have to wonder about the people who make such things, who sell such things and who display such things. What is so broken in them that they really think this is good? Maybe, they are also survivors. And maybe, they don’t know it, yet. I was amnesic about that part of my life for many years.

I don’t know how often I will be writing here. I plan on starting a sister blog on recovery. But I will try to keep up more with this one, too. I really need another writing outlet anyway.

There probably aren’t many people reading this blog any more, but if anyone still is, I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment and I will try to get this conversation going again.

Oh, as far as having DID… I have not had any solid indications of not being blended for a very long time. There were some things that happened after the triggering, but I talked with my “former” therapist about them and she told me new research indicates it might just be the brain healing itself. More on that later, if I can. It’s been awhile since I talked with her, so I have to remember the conversation.

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Continuing to learn about “trauma brain”…

March 17, 2014

I recently started reading again about PTSD and what I call “trauma brain”. The stress of some things in our living situation started to overwhelm me and I really needed to find more support and more information. So, I started searching again and found more information. Actually, there seems to be quite a bit more, but here are some things I am finding.

Apparently, they are now coming up with official labels for “trauma brain”…the brain that has developed in a biologically different way as a result of persistent abuse/trauma in early childhood. I am still learning about the labels and how they are separate and how they overlap with PTSD.

They now have something called Complex PTSD…or C-PTSD. I believe this is a new label because I don’t remember seeing it before. I also saw DTD…Developmental Trauma Disorder. There are several articles that I have not read, yet, but I am going to share them here because a quick perusal indicates that they have some very useful information.

A few years ago I read about the push to put DID under the PTSD category in the DSM. There was quite a debate about it. Clearly the two are connected, but not everyone agreed on putting one under the other. I wonder whatever happened with that. Perhaps, some of these articles hold the answer.

So, here they are, in no particular order…more articles on PTSD in its various forms. I chose the ones that went the most in depth (which is why I have not read all of them yet myself).

Developmental trauma, complex PTSD, and the current proposal of DSM-5 by Vedat Sar

Complex post-traumatic stress disorder by Wikipedia

Reconceptualizing Child Traumatic Stress in Child Welfare  by Ally Jamieson, MSW

Part Four: From care to where? Early brain development susceptible to neglect, abuse – Emotional, physical trauma in childhood can cause delays in brain maturation, say experts by Tracy Sherlock, Vancouver Sun

I have added these links to the Abuse, Trauma & the Body/Brain page.

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Telling my story…

November 20, 2013

is not easy. Nor is walking out my healing. There are many who would not understand my story. They would think it too fantastic…to unbelievable. They would not want to believe that such things even happen. Funny thing is…some of those same people will read the Old Testament in the bible and not question for a moment the child sacrifices and pagan practices mentioned there. (For those who are upset that I use the word “pagan”, get over it. That word is used in the bible, so if you don’t like it, take it up with G-d. I mean no offense.)

In addition to not being able to fully share my story, there is the fact that I still have to deal with what I dub “trauma” brain and PTSD. I kept thinking I was getting better and then things would happen that would seem to throw me backward. Now, the reality is that I AM better on so many levels. But my other reality, as I have been discovering over the past 6 – 8 years, is that abuse in childhood results in the brain developing differently than the brain of a child who is not abused. I have a whole page dedicated to articles on that topic. Abuse, Trauma & the Body/Brain  Most of the articles are technical and deal with medical studies. There does not seem to be much in the way of practical information on how to heal from this or live with this. So, I do the best I can.

There are some things I have noticed. One thing is that the PTSD leaves me very vulnerable to “over”reacting to stress. In other words, I cannot handle the same stresses that a non-PTSD person can handle. What might be merely an annoyance or discomfort for someone else can result in my insides shaking like crazy. The intensity can be huge. I also have flashbacks that are sometimes so strong that I want to rock back and forth to deal with all that energy.

It can be very challenging for me to be out and about as I never know what will hit or when. I can be at the store or on the road when, all of a sudden, I just want to be home…NOW. It diminishes over time, that is, until I get hit with some other life event that knocks me for a loop. Then I feel as if I am thrown back to square one. For a long time, I thought I should be able to fix this…I just need enough therapy or counseling. But that won’t fix a biological problem. Even the PTSD has a biological tie-in and is connected to the trauma brain…seeing as how the same things caused both.

Between trauma brain (which affects how memories are stored and retrieved) and PTSD (which leaves me more vulnerable to life’s stresses ), day-to-day living can be very interesting…to say the least. Oh, and did I mention that I am also rather amnesic? Yep, I am missing all but a handful of memories of ten years of my younger sister living with our family and a whole host of other things in my growing up years and some of my adult life. Some of it may be missing due to improper storage or non-storage because of trauma brain. Some of it is repressed. Some of it may be hidden behind the cloud of dissociation.

At least I now know that there is precious little I can do about a lot of this other than to pray and just keep pushing forward, one day at a time. I used to think there was something I was neglecting.

Ever since my son was arrested, I have been struggling a lot more than usual…a lot. I am forgetting things…or as one doctor once told me…I am probably not forgetting them, I am simply not recording them. I find myself oftentimes leaving things unfinished as I get so easily distracted. I cannot focus as well. Food gets burned. I leave things out in recipes (not often, thankfully, as I have really been working on checking my recipes multiple times while cooking).

Even before his arrest, I was noticing flashbacks, but my ability to handle them is diminished. Too much added stress, I think. I see things and can feel the stress inside starting to skyrocket, so instead of going through that door or down that tunnel to see what is there…what memory is trying to surface…I find myself pushing it away.

Anyway, that is life for me right now. Or at least some of it. I feel overwhelmed. I cannot call people I want to call. I am just making it through each day and trying not to feel guilty for not being “better” than I am. Yeah, I know this is not my fault and largely out of my control, but the rest of the world does not understand and that is what makes it hard. I so want to look “normal” to others because I don’t want to have to tell my story to them. But the reality is that, sooner or later, I need to tell at least a part of it. Maybe…just maybe…they will understand.

To all my friends that I am not calling. I am sorry. It is just beyond me right now and has been for quite a while. I was hoping things would calm down by now…but they are not. In fact, the family situation just keeps getting worse and I am fighting against the effects of it.

I don’t have the energy to proofread this. I hope it turned out OK.

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Childhood Maltreatment Can Leave Scars In the Brain by Jon Hamilton

November 19, 2013

I just added another article: Childhood Maltreatment Can Leave Scars In The Brain by Jon Hamilton to my Abuse, Trauma & the Body/Brain page. Again, it is a reminder that maltreatment of any kind can leave lasting effects on the brains and lives of the abused.

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What’s In a Name?

July 31, 2013

My earliest conscious memories regarding my name was of never being allowed to go by a nickname…even to the extent that I was threatened to be in trouble if my mother ever heard someone call me anything other than my full first name. Others did not understand this, nor did I. But it was my reality and the reason for it was more serious than I knew.

I remember coming home in the first grade from school and one of the neighbor girls was teasing me by calling me a shorter name. She wouldn’t stop even when I asked her to. I remember being worried (read that as “scared”) that my mother would hear her. My only consolation was that this girl lived a couple of houses or so before mine and ours was up in the back…behind the main house. Thankfully, my mother did not hear.

As an adult, when I asked my mother about that strict rule, she said something along the lines of wanting to hear my name because she had worked so hard on picking out a nice one. She chose that name and wanted me to be called that name…period. She came across as if she had not been that strict in laying down the rules, but I remember. There is a lot this partial amnesic does not remember, but I remember that. It was programmed into me to NEVER use a nickname. It was not until many years later that I began to understand the truth behind that demand.

I remember struggling as an adult…married with children even…to try to be me. It is like I woke up one day and realized that I did not really know who I was. I did not know what I liked or didn’t like. It was a perm gone awry that turned me onto that. I looked totally different. I got teased a bit for the drastic change, but that is when I looked at myself in the mirror and realized that I really did not know whether I liked it or not. It wasn’t what I wanted. It was drastically different. But did I actually not like it?

I tried to look at the woman in the mirror as if she was NOT me. Would I like that hair style on THAT woman? I decided I did, but I felt a bit of disconnect between that woman and me. That woman was not what those around me expected to see, which got me thinking. I decided that I wanted to become the woman God created me to be rather than the woman I was pressed into being. All my life I was always being what everyone else wanted, but what did “I” want? What did “I” like? And even more importantly, what did God create me to be? So, I set out on a journey of exploration. I wanted to find out who “I” really was/am. And what a journey it was!

Right there in the very beginning I was hit with a strong realization. I use the word “strong” because it was something that I knew for sure, although I could not have explained why or how I knew it. I just knew very strongly that I would never be able to be the me God created me to be if I went by my birth name. So, I decided I wanted to be called a nickname, which was really just a shortened version of my first name…half of it to be exact.

I knew my parents would not like it, so I started with my husband and those closest to me. I remember that some questioned what I was doing. New hair style, which I openly admitted was not my intention, but reassured them (especially since the hairdresser was a friend) that I did like it. New name. What was up? I just kept to myself what my realizations were and what my goal was.

Once I saw that those around me were willing to really try to remember to call me by my nickname, I asked my parents to do the same. Naturally, they did not like it. Thankfully, I did not see my parents nearly as often as I saw my husband and everyone else. And then I noticed it.

I had started to change internally, even if not all that much externally. I started to feel more freedom to gingerly explore, and my sense of who I was altered. I grew stronger, more confident and had a greater sense of my worth. And then my parents would come over and call me by my full name. Bam! It was like a switch was flipped and I found myself struggling to keep the ground I had gained. This happened over and over until I learned to turn it off.

Although I did not know anything about programming or my cult family heritage at that time, I did understand that there was a definite connection to my full name and being controlled and molded. It was one of the key events of my life as I moved toward freedom. I never went back to my full birth name and now have a completely different name.

So, what’s in a name? I think a lot! My birth names were given by my parents. They had really nice meanings and had programming attached to them. My current names have wonderful meanings and freedom attached to them. They were gifts from my Creator…my heavenly Abba/Father. I am no longer bound to programming or to the former names. When someone from way back calls me by that name, I don’t like it, but the effect is no longer there. It is more of just an annoyance.

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More Resources…

July 31, 2013

I am amazed at how much more information there is out there on how abuse affects the brain than there was only about 10 years ago. Back then you could hardly find anything…or at least anything for the lay person. Now, I see all kinds of articles and studies. There is more understanding of how the brain works and how memory is affected…lots of good information. I hope it helps someone.

I have updated my Abuse, Trauma & the Body/Brain page once again.  It looks like this will be an ongoing thing as more and more research is done. I hope that I will also see start seeing a lot of articles on successful healing and how the lives of survivors are made better.

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Working through things…

May 27, 2013

I have had to make a very tough decision, but life is what it is.

I will survive. I will continue to find joy in the midst of the grieving…even as things seem to be taking a turn for the worse.

I know the One who turns all things for good…even when it is hard…or even impossible…for me to see it. Actually, I do see some good in this. It is just that I also see a lot of sadness and hurt.

I truly do not believe we have much time left before Messiah returns. This whole situation may become a moot point before we even know it.

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What Is Healing?

March 16, 2013

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.

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More Articles on the Effects of Trauma on the Body

December 28, 2012

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Genes and Immune System Shaped by Childhood Poverty, Stress

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bullying by Childhood Peers Leaves a Trace That Can Change the Expression of a Gene Linked to Mood

 

Increased serotonin transporter gene (SERT) DNA methylation is associated with bullying victimization and blunted cortisol response to stress in childhood: a longitudinal study of discordant monozygotic twins

 

Factors underlying variable DNA methylation in a human community cohort

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What is healing…

December 4, 2012

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

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Updated Page…

December 3, 2012

I updated my “Abuse and the Brain” page. It is now called “Abuse, Trauma & the Brain” and I added two more articles at the bottom.

These two articles deal with soldiers who have PTSD. Why do some have it and some don’t? They are beginning to study these soldiers lives PRIOR to going into battle to see if there is a clue there. It appears, so far, that it is possible that those who develop PTSD in combat actually already have it. They have had traumatic experiences that caused them to have some symptoms of PTSD prior to the military, symptoms which subsided a bit while in combat, but then came back with a vengeance even worse afterward.

I have to say that my personal experiences seem to bear this out. I have difficulty watching videos that have intense scenes in them. I used to be able to “handle” it when I had to, but it is still there. You would think that, with all the healing I have experienced that it would be better and, in some ways, I so seem to be better able to handle it. However, in some ways it is worse.

I think  my age and the fact that I no longer have the strong young body that could take the stress and bounce back faster is a factor. I simply don’t have as much energy for the “fight”, so I try to be careful about what I expose myself to. A little bit of nervousness (like when I am going to sing) can turn into a raging shakiness that almost incapacitates me. I feel things to the extreme and I believe it is due (at least in large part) to how my brain developed because of all the earlier trauma.

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