Walking Wounded

Monday, July 23, 2007

Break Through.

I must soy that I hope beyond hope that this can help another along the road. This must make a difference in another life.

In the very late 80's I was in counseling and was encouraged to attend a two day seminar. It was held in a Phoenix Hotel and we were to have room mates and share a double occupancy room.

This program was the brain child of several professionals who had a hope to help survivors. It did help me a great deal. I remember that they had half the group sit in a large circle and the other half stand. We had all written the words we remembered hearing as kids on a white board or on paper attached to our backs. Then each person on the standing circle would say things like,
"it wasn't your fault"
"you did not deserve to be hurt"
" You are loved"
"You deserve to be loved"

Well some 20 messages or so as the standing circle moved around me finally broke through the crust of "no one will ever make me cry again" and I absolutely fell apart sobbing and weeping inside., but not a tear was shed on the outside. Then the leader took glitter and sprinkled it over each of us and said" remember this always". It took me many years to learn to cry. Now I weep at kindness and love. Seldom though do I cry , and if your ever with me please dont hand me a tissue if you see me cry cause I need to let them out and if I have a tissue I'll use it to just push them back behind the door.

That night a drunkard pounded on my hotel door he was lost and could not get into his room. My room mate, (a stranger to me) well her and I called the desk and the police it scared me so bad. That night I found myself binging on black licorice, and I remembered! I remembered my step dad being nice to me when he gave me black licorice. He kept it up on the refrigerator and when he would come home from his merchant marine trips he would give me some, it was large old fashioned sticks thick and hard. He married my mom when I was six. It was my first good memories of my childhood. They moved to the brick house and the bastard did not live in our basement any more. However that couple followed us around everywhere we moved! My mother hassled me because I was not nice to Uncle so and so. I hated him and I hated her and I hated Uncle so and so s wife!
I since then long ago stopped hating it is a poison worse than the drugs they used on me.
I knew I had forgiven when I found myself grieving for them that they should have the promise of what they had done come upon them for all eternity. for "better it would be for them that a noose would be around their necks and cast into the sea than tho harm such as one of these little ones" The way they harmed me.
My mom was however a magnet for these kinds of people. It was because of her own jurney. One she did not get recovery for until she was well into her late 50's mid 60's. She lived near my eldest Sister and they small town where they lived had few supports. It was real hard for my sister and the town theripst could not deal with both of them.
My mother told me only weeks before her death to tell , tell all!


Denise said...

Bless you for telling all, you are a very special heart blessing.

Denise said...

Come by my blog, I have something for you.

Songs of my heart