Such a long absence from here No insightful scribblings For a while Life has been overwhelmingly overwhelmed But I am back With a head full of whirling thoughts So much has happened So many conversations Trying to keep my brain clear and my head on straight In amongst the swirl of the world
There has been too much death and dying in my world lately But in amongst it all there has been so many wonderful new lights New connections And Inspiring and challenging conversations
Life is good Even when it is not so good There is always flowers along the way That help the cloudy days be not so unbearable
for years I’ve lived with both burning holes in my brain years of untangling the shame years and years and years taking the blame carrying the shame then years and more years unloading the shame but allowing the blame to become misplaced anger averting the idea that the one I loved could be that monster justifying mitigating his part because of his history preventing my heart from being broken again and again and again and then eventually understanding that the blame and shame actually lies fair and square at his feet, on his head not mine no more excusing or defending him
it took years and years for me to identify that blame and to put the shame where it truly belongs but in so doing I have felt and still feel so alone with no understanding from those who used to love me from the ones closest to me who are now so far far away from me who throw their anger their rage so blindly so angrily so misguidedly at me
I couldn’t comprehend why? and then the lightbulb moment the clarity the understanding they are doing exactly the same as I did
they cannot they do not the have not the capacity to cope with the shame the humiliation of knowing that the one person they knew and trusted could be that monster so their anger displaces misguidedly misplaced and is directed at me just one of his many victims who has had the audacity to finally stand up and speak out
the pain the heartbreak the divisiveness the trauma the misuse of power the infliction of grief and trauma the absolute suffering and distress caused by the evilness of paedophillia the perversion of incest the absolute lifelong torment from sexual abuse is so great so immense the ripples that grow and grow and grow into uncontrolled tsunami waves from the shame and the blame destroy relationships and families
shame and blame live symbiotically and unless they are directed fair and square at the feet of the offender they become parasitic and entwine within the psyche of the family tree and kill everything they touch
Forgiveness…. an easy word to toss around used so freely by those within the many diverse circles of religiosity especially those who have not experienced abuse the placaters the well meaners the do gooders the word throwers the ones who have not stood in my shoes
Forgiveness…. This word holds so many red cards for me I have struggled with it for decades After being sexually & emotionally abused for years and years the ruination of my childhood I then go on and live through decades of spiritual abuse and more emotional abuse so much shaming and blaming and shunning by those who can’t accept what my abuser did So ‘forgive’ me if I sound jaded I Am Very Jaded
There’s gotta be a better word Another word A word that takes all the blame and shame and stacks it squarely on who it belongs
Forgiveness…. Thesaurus synonyms are absolution clemency compassion dispensation grace mercy reprieve vindication amnesty reprieve etc All ideations from religiosity
Then there is this noun as in pardon; end of blame End of blame Well fuck me thrice over There is no way I am ever going to end the blame I will never forget what was done to me I will never forget the childhood that was robbed from me I have been shamed to hell and back for nigh on 60yrs There is no way this side of hell freezing over that I am ever going to end the blame or pardon my abuser
This probably sounds angry that’s cuz it is I am angry No matter how much healing work I do it always comes back to bloody forgiveness!
I am not allowing anger to eat me up I am angry but anger is not possessing me I was recently told that “Holding on to anger Is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die“ so hop off your high horses don’t start the lectures don’t drop the platitudes If I was drinking the poison I wouldn’t be processing I wouldn’t be writing This is the way I know how to release
I am doing the work the work I shouldn’t have to be doing cuz it all comes down to the fact that if what was done To me hadn’t been done To me then I wouldn’t have to be asking
When you are living and healing from years of abuse you face daily conundrums you are processing and growing and trying valiantly to heal in a way that allows you to regain your true self the issue is though that you actually don’t know who that is your abuser striped the knowing of your self away from you the moment he took you
you spend a life time trying to regain some sense of self self preservation self worth self confidence so many self’s but you constantly ride a see-saw scared of becoming self centred self focused self ish
so you bury your own self in the search of yourself and get lost in others self’s
instead of fighting your own dragons you protect your self by fighting for and with others against their dragons because instinctively you recognise those are the same dragons you need to fight but they are a step removed from yours so it is less painful
you become a warrior fighting the cause and sympathy becomes empathy but carrying load after load of others pain becomes too heavy
and then warriors break but only when broken can you truly focus on self healing only then do you realise the courage it has taken to get you this far so much courage taken to stay alive it is exhausting
but your journey towards self growth has just begun
you then face more conundrums how do you heal? do you continue to bury the truths of your abuse do you continue the cycle by Not airing your dirty linen in public? Keep sweeping the dirt under the carpet? Shut your mouth cuz it might offend others?
do you stand up and fight do you speak your truths
you have to find Your own courage fight your own battles no one else will fight them for you
you will need to dig deep and find your courage to fight your abuser for the rest of your life even when he is no longer on this planet his dragons will still breath fire through the mouths of others
because no matter how many times you are told it was not your fault it always comes back to it is Your dirty linen Your dirt Your abuse
It is absolute shit revictimisation at his finest
it takes an exhausting amount of courage every day to refuse to wear his dirty linen his dirt his abuse
at first it slams engulfs drowns How can we possibly survive our loss total and utter impossibility shock overwhelms us gut punched bewilderment convulsive sobbing brokenness blankness . . . grief
As moments become days become months
the sadness & sobbing reduce to tears melancholy questions anger more sadness blankness depression fatigue . . . grief
and with the years come resignation flashbacks sleeplessness nostalgic longing embodied sadness emotional numbness rememberings wistful memories . . . grief
Our journey unfolds personal processing no right no wrong grief grips our future it is always there we blank it out we mind block the triggers we hold in tears we nurse the pieces of our broken heart until our inward flowing tears glue the parts together there will always be cracks it will never be whole ever again But those cracks remind us every day of the intense beauty of loving of being loved
When life is trucking along you are hit by small triggers spasmodically but you just stop briefly and deal with them as they bump you then you’re back on course again till the next wee one They feel big But in actuality they’re just potholes that reduce your speed momentarily
But when out of left field a huge train mows you down you don’t have time to run for cover It unleashes all the demons that you’ve managed to keep locked in your basement for the past years
It sucker punches gut punches derails you
all the tips and techniques you’ve learnt all the therapies all the breathing everything just flies out the window
Those demons start playing havoc in your head reigniting memories exhausting you with all the ‘whatifs’ all the ‘whys’
Taking me down trails I don’t want to go the overgrown tracks I have been consciously avoiding shutting out closing my mind to No!! I don’t want to go there again No more Stop!!!
The anger the grief the absolute sadness and the feelings of betrayal
The betrayal is the worst all these years and they knew but they stayed silent
the fight I’ve felt the fight I’ve fought nine years of active duty for my baby
two years of holding him fighting him fighting for him containing him suffering with him but not understanding not knowing the cause or the pain
then the discovery the horror the disbelief and weirdly, the relief as if a diagnosis can heal a broken soul of course it can’t but it gives perspective and some understanding
then finally the arrest
and then the silencing began the waiting holding our breath keeping our tongues lawfully gagged closed mouths unable to release the anger and fears contained within my mothers heart so many tears the anxieties and perplexities watching his continuing agonies his blacknesses his fear and incapacities to live fully shared anger shared pain
after four years of being silenced facing that monster who broke my child who tried to destroy us finally being allowed to voice the hatred my anger for all his despicable evilness
then the feeling of bewilderment as the silencing continues our judicial system works slowly inefficiently almost impotently the temptation to allow a bullet or a rope is so great but reality checks our responses
finally his name is revealed to all but only to all who care only to those who give a damn his name is a 5 min wonder in the daily newspaper buried unless you know
26 months for all the pain and the torture inflicted upon us all 26 months for lives wrecked and destroyed 26 months… words fail me I’m silenced again this time by my inability to express brokenness
then after not long enough gut slamming phone calls parole board mandatory reports received when least expected bolts from the blue jarring me back to those years past
re-opening the numbed lesions of my soul released after 17 months served how is this justice my body tries to find the anger and the rage but all that’s left is soul destroying numbness helplessness nothingness blankness
the proverbial rug has been completely pulled from under the silence is continuing ringing in my ears so loudly i cannot hear i’m crushed my fight is broken
this pain shouldn’t be my pain to carry but this is my baby my precious, precious child the one I birthed and have nurtured for over 2 decades his pain is my pain a mother carries her child’s pain as if it were her own in the hopes that he will eventually be free of his own
when you spend the day creating for a special person to lift their spirits and to share your love and then a phone call one you’ve been dreading hoping not to receive
grief hits you a side blow and you come tumbling down the pain from within echoes that of times past losing a loved life long partner so heartbreakingly hard
tears flow where do I go with this where can I go but to other friends
spend time with friends now before its too late make time take time before you have to join to celebrate the life well lived of yet another friend who has left too soon
when your head hurts when there is so much chaos inside that it blanks out all rational thinking random thoughts swirl around battering my brain cells like a raging storm I try to follow one thought but it diverges into a torrent flowing a different direction another thought and another small streams all diverging into a raging river of pain
pain from so many sources heavy weightedness my head aches with weariness my body drags with an unexplainable lethargy I don’t know how to find the beginning let alone the end too many beginnings they just add and add and add so much more pain and grief to the weightedness I am feeling
a random person sees my pained being delivers a hug causing my eyes leak with tears but still holding back the rivers that want to flow because those nearest cannot see what is inside of me and I am scared than if they do it will horrify them because it terrifies me
I try to grasp at one to decipher where it came from but my brain sees another and runs to that then to another until my head is so full
my hands try to hold my brain the explosions of pain darkness weariness sadness
how can I describe the darkness within when I cannot find the beginning to begin
My journal page during the weekend quote Ann Voskamp
I spent the end of March and the first two days of April participating in a Living Fully Creative Therapy Group 3.25 very intense days It was a ‘retreat’ for sexual abuse survivors. I was fortunate to be put forward for funding to attend. It was with much trepidation that I agreed. I didn’t know what to expect so went with no expectations. I deliberately booked myself into a motel nearby as I knew that I would not cope with the travel too and fro after such intensive days. That was a self care move and a good one I was right. I needed space for me each night.
We were a small group of victims in varying stages of healing. It was challenging, disturbing, distressing, amazing, painful and wonderful all at the same time. To be able to freely communicate and be heard & believed and supported in such a safe way was actually incredible.
I’ve never experienced psychodrama or group therapy before It was certainly very interesting, challenging and emotionally draining. Actively participating in the dramas was definitely not something I was comfortable to do I preferred the role of witness and giving feedback This was an important part of the proceedings The art therapy portions were certainly more my thing There just wasn’t enough of them for me
What did I take from my time there?
Firstly – I learned that I can participate, or not, at whatever level I am comfortable with and saying no is very ok. And I was commended for doing so.
Secondly – I learned that I can hold my own space. That I’m important and have as much right as anyone else to hold space. That I’m not taking from anyone else. And that in owning my space I’m also giving to others.
Thirdly – I learned that I was believed. At all times. I was supported and held in the safest place I’ve ever been in. In the past when I have tried talking openly I’ve been shutdown & silenced. That is revictimisation and I will no longer allow myself to be a victim of that.
Fourthly – I have never read my work aloud to anyone before. I usually write & run. But this time they wanted my words. They asked me to read to them. Their responses were more than could’ve imagined. So much empathy, compassion, & identifying. I felt validated. As a writer. As an artist. As a woman.
An initial 20min exercise at my Living Fully Workshop. The colours portray different areas of my life, the brown are the shadows that people can’t & don’t want to seeDay 2 of my Living Fully Workshop. 20min Art expression session Words which are all part of me at any given time….
