Archive for the ‘soul searching’ Category

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Being triggered…

July 15, 2012

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.

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It’s Time…to Write…

October 15, 2010

I need to write. It is time…perhaps even past time. I am fighting tears right now and, I must confess, not doing a very good job of it.

Maybe it is the time of year. Maybe it has to do with my parents (I know there is anger under the surface with that one). Maybe it is what feels like a tenuousness in my living situation (even though I am seeing Yahweh do amazing things). Maybe it is being in contact with a cousin (mother’s side) for the first time in many, many years (we never lived close so I have only met her a few times). Maybe it is my expectation of what may be to come…system wise…when we do finally move into the house (which will be unfinished inside). Maybe it is my age and/or the way this living situation has taken its toll on my health. Maybe it is something I don’t even know about…something that is buried deep inside and whirling around.

I see things I want to do…but cannot. My situation and time, along with my state of emotional/mental health holds me back. I want to contribute in ways that I am simply unable to. I want to keep up with my online friends…and cannot. And all of these things are OK…I know (in my head) that they are. But I struggle in my heart. My online friends…in all of their various places…mean a lot to me. They are a form of support that is precious to me. Yet…as beautiful and precious as they are…they are not enough. They, too, are human and facing challenges of their own. They are not able to always be available…which leads me to the next thing I need to write about.

There is something that has been happening in my spirit over a long time. But lately, well, the only way I know to describe it is that it is almost like a surge. It is as if my heart connection with Yahweh has surged forward. I have been facing some challenges…which I have really tried my best to deal with. Those challenges…like challenges often do…have pushed me toward Him even more. I need His wisdom and His guidance, but mostly…I need to rest in His love.

It seems that my faith gets stretched and my spiritual maturity grows through that. And then it seems like I hit the wall. I am utterly helpless and I find it necessary to fall back upon the childlike aspect of my faith. Yeshua said that we should trust like children do. And so that is what I do…I just fall into His love and trust Him for the things I simply cannot do…or even see.

So I rest in Him, trusting Him and drawing even closer to Him. The strength, maturity and depth from the stretching I went through settles in while He is preparing me for the next stretching session. I stretch. I grow. I rest. Stretch. Grow. Rest. A cycle that is as old as time and yet very much in the present and will continue to be right there in the midst of my future. One long strand tying past to present to future.

There are things in that “maybe” paragraph that I think I need to write about…but I think I will separate them out into different posts.

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My Sister

February 16, 2010

My sister had a brave heart. She was beautiful and childlike. She was a fighter who would not give up. She was trapped…caught in an unseen web that was too sticky for her to break free from. They had her where they wanted her.

My sister ran away from one cult family right into the arms of another…but she didn’t know. Neither of us did. At that time, we were both amnesic to our true history.

I wonder…did she ever figure it out before she died? Did she finally remember her childhood abuse…the younger years? Did she remember “everything”…or just the minor “stuff” she used as an excuse to run away?

My sister kept trying…in recovery and out of it. I remember her telling me how she had to fight with the recovery people to get her a counselor. She kept saying she needed one, but they did not want to give it to her…not even in those fancy, high class, expensive recovery places.

Was it because it was being paid for by his parents? After all…counseling might mean that she would remember something…something important…something damning…about them. Maybe she would finally wake up to the truth about her boyfriend and his parents…the family she lived with. Or…maybe she wanted a counselor because she already had an inkling of the truth? I will never know in this life.

This is the time of year that I especially think of my sister…as her birthday approaches in a couple of days. And I wonder about her death…and sometimes, I wonder if she even really died…or if they have her holed up somewhere. It didn’t look like her. And my father would not leave me alone with her. If he had…what would I have done? I don’t know. We weren’t supposed to touch the body…but I think I would have. It did NOT look like her. I had seen her within the last year.

My father said it did, but he had not seen her in years…so far as I know. But then…it is not exactly like I came from a truthful family. Ha! “Family”. What is THAT supposed to be? Not the caricature I grew up with.

It’s funny how everything seemed to be so good…on the outside looking in. All the memories I concocted about growing up seemed so OK…yet I was so not OK.  Stories my mother told me were woven through my mind with photos from the family albums. Childhood. Sure…that was my childhood…only…it wasn’t.

I remember the day I suddenly realized that it was all a lie…a fantasy. It has been so long now that I cannot remember if it was before or after I realized that I could not remember growing up with my sister. It is as if she did not exist…yet I know for fact she was there…in the same house with me.

So many things are buried in the mists of amnesia with a tiny flash of a snippet here and there that blazes through so fast that I can barely figure out what just went by. Yet…those flashes ARE there. And I do have the photographs. My sister was there. Some of the photos I took…yet, I can barely see anything beyond the photos themselves. Whatever I see is more like a surreal picture in my mind.

She died on my birthday. At least…I am told she died. I saw what was supposed to be her body…but it sometimes haunts me to this day. I know she was becoming “inconvenient”. I would not put it past them to agree behind closed doors while pretending to hate each other to me. Two families…warring for her body. It was sick. It was insane. It was my sister.

I will never get the chance to get to know her. Her living…except for the few times in the later years when I finally did meet up with her…is buried deep within. What I do remember makes me wonder if I really want to remember the rest. I don’t know. Maybe I should just create a life with her just like I created a life of my own? No…I want to honor her by remembering the truth…if I can.

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Trying to See

August 15, 2008

I have been doing a lot of thinking…a lot of soul searching…and a lot of praying. It has caused me to look back over the last few months of posts I have made here…trying to see what I wrote with new eyes. I have become aware of the fact that a couple of persons are upset about some things I have written…persons that, as far as I knew, were no longer reading here. It was not my intent to upset anyone.

Something happened a couple of months or so ago that I have written about here…without naming names or places or giving any identifying information. I have written some of my thoughts and feelings and perspectives on it…just as I write my thoughts and feelings about all sorts of things that have happened in my life.

Since I have become aware that at least one of these persons has been continuing to read, and of the resulting feelings of upset, I figured that I really should take a look at what all I have written here since the whole thing happened.

Was what I wrote inappropriate? I don’t know…I don’t think so. If I had identified the persons involved, or made it obvious to others who they were, then yes, most definitely it would have been wrong. Still…if someone is that upset…I need to take a look at it. One can be “technically” right and yet “morally” wrong.

There are almost 50 posts that have been made since it happened. Of those posts, I could only find direct references to what happened in about a half dozen posts. I have not deleted any.

There are about a dozen other posts addressing some other topics. When I wrote about those topics, I drew from all sorts of things I have experienced over the years, including the incident these persons are referring to. So, yes, there are some references, most pretty vague, that consist of anywhere from one sentence to a handful of sentences, within these other topic posts. Even as I reread them, they did not bring the incident to mind for me…other than the few sentences here and there. I know that the incident was not foremost in my mind at the time that I wrote them.

Until the other day, I had not written directly about it for over a month and indirectly only once that I can find. I am saddened that anyone is upset by what I write…especially when I actually wrote so little about it. Unless something happens to trigger my thoughts and feelings in that direction, I see no reason to write about it specifically any more.

That does not mean that there may not be aspects of it that won’t get written about simply because life is like that. One thing overflows into another. There are many common experiences and feelings among people in general and among survivors in particular. It would be difficult to write about much of anything without someone seeing themselves in it somewhere. I often see myself in what others write.

I don’t really know what more I can do.

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