Posts Tagged ‘reality’

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Still here…as in, I didn’t drop off the planet…

June 8, 2014

I am actually still on the planet, although it may not seem like it. Life has been difficult. There are some days when I have to battle feeling as if I am falling into a very dark hole. Yes, I am taking my SamE again to help. I am also praying and focusing on my relationship with my Creator. And that does make a huge difference in my life.

My husband’s physical condition does not seem to be getting any better and I am struggling with how that is affecting the dynamic we share. It affects everything…our schedules…our moods. He, understandably, gets a little short at times. Being an introvert, my energy drain is already flowing due to not really having a private place in the house and also due to being responsible for other people. So, when hubby needs even more than usual, I tend to not be as patient as I wish.

Life is filled with potential changes. A possible move. A graduation in a year. Life in disability (we hope…or a healing would be even better). A trial with no possible “positive” outcome.

There are times I feel as if I am “drowning” and just trying to get through the day. Other times, I feel fairly confident. Thing is, I am the one who has been the driving force of positiveness and “it will be OK” statements. Sometimes, I need someone to say to me! I cannot always be the optimist in the family.

In all of this, though, I/we are growing, maturing. We are having to seek our Creator…Yeshua…the G-d of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob…even more. We draw closer to Him and find the strength to keep on keeping on.

I am not a “date setter”. But I am also not ignorant. Yeshua said to know the times and seasons…to watch the signs. More than ever before, I see signs of His coming getting very close. There are still some things that need to happen, but the likelihood that those things will kick off starting within the next few years is very high. Of course, we could all be wrong, but I really doubt.

I know that people have been saying for centuries that it is close. But we have something they never had…the rebirth of Israel. No nation on the planet has ever arisen like Israel. No unused language has been brought back into ordinary every day use like Hebrew has. Once relegated to only the scriptures and religious writings, it is now heard from the lips of children. And the outright miracles that took place during Israel’s rebirth are astounding.

So, here I sit, watching the spiritual battle rage. The scriptures tell us that our battle is not with flesh and blood…it is in the spiritual realm. I see that battle raging…in my family…in my country…in the world…and, especially, in the Middle East.

Get ready, folks. Keep an eye on the bigger picture. This life…what you see in front of you…is like the shadow realm. True reality is spiritual and, largely, unseen. I pray your eyes are opened to see it. Your physical life may…for sure your spiritual life will for sure…depend on it.

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Sui…well, you get the idea…

January 16, 2011

Within a few days, I read four things about suicide. One was a post at DIDiva where she gives a link to an article in the Huffington Post about a young man who killed himself. Reading that really made me very sad for him and for all the others who feel so alone…who feel such overwhelming darkness…and who feel that taking their life is the only real option. I am glad that he wrote a letter explaining what he did. Maybe it will help others.

I think it was the same day that I also read an online friend’s description of the aftermath of a suicide attempt. She especially wrote about the effects on the body. She also included a link to another person I know online whose blog I had never read…although we had crossed paths. That person mentioned an attempt in her year review…which led me to explore her blog a while.

I kept reading and wanting to respond, yet could not bring what I was feeling into words. Or at least not into words that I felt would do any good or have any kind of usefulness. I finally decided to write a post here instead, but had neither the time or wherewithal to put my feelings into thoughts and my thoughts into words on the screen. I just kept mulling it over…and experiencing emotions.

I can think of reasons that posts like that draw me. One is that it is possible that my sister committed suicide. I don’t know that it was intentional, but she did die as the result of her own actions. Some of those actions took the long, slow route…like bulimia and alcoholism. Boy was she a fighter…when the cult was not slapping her down.

I have received different stories about what happened and have even spoken with the coroner and read her report. I know my sister. There are things in the report that are fishy. But, hey, that is not exactly surprising considering how strong the cult is in that area. For example, my sis was a hard-core bulimic. For that alone, she was really living on borrowed time. Add to that alcohol. Know that those two things do to the body? It isn’t pretty. Yet, her stomach and liver were “unremarkable”! Excuse me! Unremarkable???? That is so wrong! Nothing about her teeth or knuckles, either. Personally, I think the family she lived with wanted to get rid of her and what they describe to me backs up my thought.

So that is one reason writings like that catch my eye. Another is that I have friends who struggle with this issue…a lot. And I care very much about them. I don’t want to lose them and I can only pray that they really know how much they mean to me…without them feeling pressured by that. I hope that makes sense.

I especially appreciated the post describing the aftermath because I have thought of suicide most of my life. I am pretty much beyond it now, but there was a time when it was on my mind…a LOT. It was not so much that I wanted to die. I just wanted the pain to stop…which is what I suspect happened to my sister. I think she was trying to number herself and over did it…or her battered body just finally gave out.

So…why am I alive? There are a number of reasons. I have always been determined not to leave that legacy to my loved ones…especially my children. I know that survivors of a loved one’s suicide are a lot more likely to commit suicide themselves. I did not want to put them at risk. Therefore, I searched for ways to do it that would not be obvious…that no one would think my death was intentional. I couldn’t find one.

There was also the fact that I believe I am here for a reason. The end of my life is G-d’s domain…not mine. Hard as it has been at times…I want to honor that. Fear of hell used to keep me alive, but I no longer believe that people go to hell for taking their lives. For other things, yes…but not for that. Not wanting to have to stand before my heavenly Abba explaining why I did it was compelling enough, though.

There is one thing I have found, however. There are times when the darkness and pain can become so severe that all of those reasons start to become meaningless. No matter how strong they are in normal life, when the darkness gets that strong, they fade into the background. Holding onto life becomes a challenge. Even now, I have my days when I want to go Home. I don’t act on it, but I can sure want it.

As far back as High School I would pray for G-d to take me Home as I slept. I don’t remember if I prayed that in Junior High. Junior High is when my childhood memories start to come into focus…although I am missing things from that, too. My mother told me about a major change during that time that I still only have a single incident flashback about. So I know I am still missing stuff.

Anyway, this is what I have been thinking on for the last few days. To all my friends (and anyone else out there) who are struggling with this issue…please, hold on. I do understand. Feel free to share with me how you feel. I know that can help. Either email me or find someone to talk to. Please know that someone cares. I know…when the darkness is that deep it may not really matter. But I feel a need to write it anyway.

Edit in on 1/17: When I wrote this the other day, there was something I wanted to include, but forgot. There is another reason I hesitated to do anything…I was terrified of surviving. There are a lot of aspects of surviving that I dreaded…such as shame, facing the anger and hurt of others and having others not trust me because they were always worried that I might try it again.

The biggest fear, though, was the possibility of surviving in a body that was broken beyond repair. I was terrified that I could end up paralyzed or with some kind of irreparable brain damage that would leave me dependent upon others (and, in my mind, a burden to them) for the rest of my life. I would feel like a double failure…unable to take my life and now a mess for others to deal with. That was my reality. That was my thinking in those times.

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When Is It Rape?

July 28, 2010

I titled this some time ago. I finally decided to finish it. I feel a need to write. My guys came back home. They forgot something and so are going to go tomorrow evening instead. I decided to finish this anyway. Here is the post. I hope it is coherent and makes some kind of sense.

When is it rape?

When the other person feels coerced into having sex…regardless of the form it takes…regardless of whether there is penetration or groping or…fill in the blank.

When the other person does not really want to do it, but feels they have no say.

When the other person is forced physically into being the recipient.

When one person is a bully who just wants their own way without regard for the other person.

When it is an adult with a minor…a parent with a son or daughter.

When it is a boss with an employee.

When something is held over the other person’s head…like a promotion or being able to keep their job.

When the victim submits because of the threat of the victim being blamed and embarrassing their family.

When the victim is told that their family will not believe them or will disown them…or worse…when the victim is told that a member of their family will be killed if they don’t submit.

When you have to pry the other person’s legs apart to do it…and yes…even if that person is your WIFE!!!

When? When. When! Do I need to continue?

My ex raped me several times…but I could not call it that. Not until…

My boys had been seeing a therapist and I finally decided to see one myself. Not too long after I started to see her, I separated from my then husband. So, she switched gears on me. I had paged her…really needing to talk to her. She told me in the phone call that she felt we should switch from the childhood stuff I came to her for and deal with the marriage separation…that I was in crisis.

“Crisis”…the word was foreign to me. My whole life had felt crazy. This was “normal” for me. Crisis? I had NO idea what she was even talking about! At our next appointment, we talked about it. I told her how I did not relate to the idea of my situation being a “crisis”.

She gave me an assignment. I was to write down everything I wanted to say to my husband…not that I had to say it to him…thank G-d…but if I could say anything to him…what would I want to say. Well, I did just that.

When I brought it in, I handed it to her. She read it and then handed it back to me and told me to read it…out loud. I refused. I absolutely could NOT do that. I had written things that could not be spoken. The fact that I had even written them was a huge step for me. It went against everything I “knew” or “believed” about how I was to behave. I wrote my heart…but expressing my heart was verboten! Forbidden! I thought she was crazy, mean and unreasonable to expect me to read it out loud. After all…I had written it down, hadn’t I? Sheesh…what more could she want?

She insisted. I refused…to the point of throwing it on the floor. At that point, she picked it up and started reading it…out loud. She got to the part where I wrote about some incidents between my husband and I. I had merely brushed over his actions and I had not labeled them.

Yes…there was a word that would sometimes creep into the back of my mind, but I would always quickly shut it out. I figured that, if I used that word, I would be judged and people would explain that I was wrong and that my husband could not have done that kind of thing. I must have misunderstood…especially since he denied it. I simply could NOT apply that word to what had happened. After all…he was my husband and I was being difficult. Anything he did…I most likely deserved…and so it went in my head and heart. I had been trained well.

My therapist asked me to describe the incidents that I included on the list. I had only mentioned them in passing and she wanted details. As I explained to her what had happened…well…then she did the unthinkable. She looked right at me and softly said, “so…he raped you.” She used the “word”…the unthinkable word. She hit it right on the head and that word that I kept shoving out of my mind…even though I secretly thought it probably fit…came screaming to the front of my mind…and I cried.

Yes! It was RAPE! I don’t care if he remembered doing it. I don’t lie…unlike him. But then…that is typical of people who lie a lot…they never believe anyone else is telling the truth either. Funny how that is…deceitful people tend to believe that everyone must be just like them…and not to be trusted.

He raped me…more than once. I remember what it felt like…how each time it felt like a little piece of my heart just broke off and died. In fact, it was that feeling of inner death that the L-rd used years later to help get my children and me out of the charade of a marriage. He showed me that, if I did not set a particular boundary, I was going to die. And I was suddenly taken back to the rapes and how it felt. I knew what kind of death He meant.

It was a huge thing to do, but with His strength…I did it. It got pretty hairy, but I was determined. “No” meant “no”! Period! But he did not cross the line because this time I was not going to submit. I was willing to resist no matter where it led. I was prepared to be beat up…if need be. Thankfully…it did not come to that…although he did get physical…threw me on the bed and tried to undress me. I did not try to get away. I just resisted. Every time he stopped…I stopped…which gave him the idea I was giving in…until he started again and I resisted again. Oh, the threats he made…but I stood my ground. One week later, he was out of the house…at my request. It was time…and G-d showed me it was do or die. He gave me the strength to do what I needed to do.

What is rape? Take a look at that list! I could not stop my father. I could not stop my mother. I could not stop the cult. They took me. They took my sister. I could not stop my husband…until that moment in time. I could not stop the others who triggered my programming and used me. I could not stop the therapist who accessed me and used me almost four years ago. But I am a fighter! I have been through a lot and I will keep on fighting.

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About the theme…and other stuff…

July 6, 2010

OK…the other theme was driving me nuts. I could not get the background light enough without washing out some of the text…and I could not adjust the color of the text. So…I am trying this one out for a while. It is called “Neat”. I don’t really have time to mess with themes any more right now.

On other lines of thought…I started a poetry blog. It has a real original title…NOT! But at least I am pretty consistent! A Survivor’s Poetry. You can either click on the link here or you can find the link at the top of the RSS blog links in the right hand column. I can appreciate that there are some who might only want to read poetry…or only look at art…so, I made a blog for each.

My computer goes back soon. I don’t really like it, but I also don’t like the idea that I might not be to get it turned on one of these days. *sigh* I don’t know if they will fix it or not. One guy told me they will send a check for sure. Another guy said the first guy had no right to say that…that they might be able to fix it…or send an entirely different PC. I don’t mind fixing…but I am not thrilled with a different PC unless it is the same kind or better.

I am tired. I am grieving. This grieving has to do with my ex. Not that I am grieving him…but as I see his family on FB interacting with my first marriage sons…well…I am just so aware of losing not just a spouse…but a whole family. I know it had to be…in my head. But in my heart…it is another story. There is a part of me who wants to say “hello”, but I was so vilified and lied about that I don’t really dare. I have regained some connections…partially…but not all…which is actually probably a good thing.

I am continuing to work on getting my art into jpeg format. The motivation is the Webinar I am doing in August. But this is also good for me…to have all my pieces sorted through and categorized and numbered. The Webinar is being done by Survivorship. I will put a link in the sidebar. The Webinars are being done as a community service and also to raise funds for ongoing Survivorship services.

As for my parents…still no word. Such is life.

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The Reality of Abuse

February 15, 2008

So many people just do not want to believe abuse happens, even when it is under their noses. I think, for some, it is because they have not dealt with their own abuse and, therefore, cannot handle seeing the abuse of others. I had a very wise pastor tell me one time that it is hard for people to hear about someone’s pain when they have undealt with pain themselves. This is because hearing the other person’s pain touches their pain.

And for others, they cannot admit that there is such darkness as abuse because they have no answer for it. They believe that this life is all there is and it is too terrifying to believe the abuse is real. They live in a world without hope and feel helpless to do anything about it.

Others are such sensitive souls that they are too hearbroken by the thought of it to admit that it happens.

Some are simply deceived. They have been lied to and told there is no evidence for it when there is a LOT of evidence for it.

There may be as many reasons for not believing in it as there are people who don’t believe.

But it does happen. Regardless of the reasons people have for not believing in it…it does happen.

I know…I am a survivor. And I have friends who are, too.

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