Internal damage to the matter of the brain from years of abuse is a real issue many survivors face.
It is only now being recognized as Non Epileptic Seizures.
This in itself a miss-nomer, for any thing that is not electrical has not been recognized by the general medical profession.
I am VERY fortunate to have been stumbled into the hands of a very few select professionals who understand the effects of long term abuse and yes even torture.
Very few survivors ever over come to this point due to many factors including ignorance , lack of support both emotional and financial just to name a few. Poor quality of care is also one of them.
It was in the 50's that they were doing mass frontal labatemies (sp?). Were they stuck ice picks into the brain via the eye socket and just tour up the frontal lobe. Scary thought.
It is a scary thought for those who suffer with this type of mental illness to get help. For me the road has been very long and hard. I am one who was aided in the process by an apparently very high intellect. I say that from the responses and results of countless test and studies.
Today upon returning to the neurologist I found that although there may be an exceedingly slim chance of MS. it is more than likely in both of our options that the issue is this neuro damage making its way out my bones through symptoms that are very much real.
So the neurologist has had a practice several years and decided a few years ago to further his education and get a doctrine in psychology. It is his offer for me to consider this proposal...
He has to have 7 sessions with client to finish his dissertation. He asked if I might be willing to to receive the cognitive restructuring (the only known aide to this N.E.S. condition) from him. Through my insurance using a covering of an office he will work under. He said that his liability insurance had no issue with it. He is in the process of getting a sponsor who is the head of the board of physiology. Under his covering he could pursue the last of his (second) doctrine. He would then use my case as a dissertation paper.
I am almost to cry. I do not know why I lived, but this is so amazing to think I may be able to get help, and to educated the medical profession at large. Help in the restoration from a very rare disorder that so effects those who live though abuse and or torture. The hard wirer of the brain is so difficult to restructure. It is like the torture never stops to the brain (not the intellectual part) and it just continues to respond like the abuse never stop.
I would help out some of those who might other wise become like so many I have known. ..dead at their own hand.
It is so very rare that any of us are able to function at such a high level. It is hoped that cognitive restructuring of the brain might give me a freedom from the systems that plague me to this day and are steadily getting worse as I (my brain) ages. It is by the grace of God that he created me so very bright as to be able to become restored to this degree. We know that this is his desire for my peers as well.
I told the neurologist I would consider his offer. He asked me to please not just let it go as far as keeping an eye on the systems that are taking away my cognitive abilities. We might just be able to turn this around. I would be a test subject in this new and advancing break though in helping survivors to thrive.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Medical News is Good!
Today Steve and I heard the diagnostic of the Neuro psych testing.
She started out telling me that the tests were based on an average of 100 people my age and educational background. She explained that she saw no indicators of dementia. In fact that she was surprised by the findings. Regarding the memory testing she said that there was a scale based on the average of said 100 people. It was her finding that in several of those categories I was tested out superior on the scale for cognitive/recall. The part of the test I had a hard time with even tested out as a low normal.
It is her opinion that it was a anxiety that messed me up. Apparently The NES and the P.T.S.T. overlap. That the stress disorder may be the culprit for the loss I felt in the store. The cognitive may be due to stressers that hinder ability.
There seams to be no physical correlation except that the NES is causing my physical symptoms. I was diagnosed at Mayo clinic in 2001 with Non Epileptic Seizures. The Medical profession at large does not recognize this condition in large part because of its' "old school mentality".
At Mayo clinic the research seams to indicate a common thread with trauma survivors and N.E.S. .
The appointment with the Neurologist will be on Thursday.
He will do the compiling of data, it appears though that it is indeed a condition of the remnants of the torture.
Evidently the conditioning of torture and severe abuse causes the body to actually present very real symptoms that mimic other serious (at times ) disorders or ailments.
It is pretty crazy making.
There are those who feign or fake problems.
They cause a world of doubt for those of us who suffer in truth.
An N.E.S. survivor has been so conditioned as to have effects that come out through the physical body. Pain, she said, is sometimes an effect of N.E.S. as well. It is very real, it is just that the source of it is not physical but psychological.
Sorta like being told your crazy.
Not really , but that is what it feels like, and it really hurts my heart.
She said "that I am not to even, ever think that I am "making it up"
it is real and I am not crazy."
I am so very grateful that this is just a part of being me.
A part of being alive after trauma.
It does however break my heart that I have been left to live this life with all the lingering oddities.
She told us that considering all I have know I have a pretty amazing life.
Many people with it commit suicide or just become vegetative, however my sharp mind made me able through the grace and inexplicable mercy of God to make a life for myself.
I kept my word to myself.
I did not let them ( the offenders) win.
She added that even so this "higher functioning" has a high price of stress and intensity that most others thankfully never have to face.
I do not disagree with her there.
I just don't often give myself enough credit for what has been achieved in and through me.
She commented on my ability to find coping methods to overcome the hindrances of the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and even the N.E. S. for that matter.
She warned me with my extensive medical history of corrective surgeries and such due to the trauma, that most physicians will be confused at my symptoms and challenges.
That it is purely based in their ignorance not anything I am doing wrong.
I am tired of being me today.
I wish sometimes I could have never walked this road.
I understand those things that made my peers give up.
If though..., I have any of you peers as readers ...do not give up!
You are not alone and one day knowledge will overcome ignorance.
We will be proven brilliant and courageous.
If even only to ourselves.
Of course that is often the hardest person to convince.
Bless God though that it is not a degenerative condition.
It is just a remnant.
There is a memory aspect that she is yet concerned about , but it appears to be stress related.
At my appointment Thursday I will find out if I am to go any further here.
I tried to get a hold of the support counselor but she is not on my insurance. She did say she would not send me or have me to go to any one who was not a specialist in sever trauma.
So there ya have it.
Rejoice with me, cry with me.
I am both very relieved and yet deeply saddened at my perplexing life.
She started out telling me that the tests were based on an average of 100 people my age and educational background. She explained that she saw no indicators of dementia. In fact that she was surprised by the findings. Regarding the memory testing she said that there was a scale based on the average of said 100 people. It was her finding that in several of those categories I was tested out superior on the scale for cognitive/recall. The part of the test I had a hard time with even tested out as a low normal.
It is her opinion that it was a anxiety that messed me up. Apparently The NES and the P.T.S.T. overlap. That the stress disorder may be the culprit for the loss I felt in the store. The cognitive may be due to stressers that hinder ability.
There seams to be no physical correlation except that the NES is causing my physical symptoms. I was diagnosed at Mayo clinic in 2001 with Non Epileptic Seizures. The Medical profession at large does not recognize this condition in large part because of its' "old school mentality".
At Mayo clinic the research seams to indicate a common thread with trauma survivors and N.E.S. .
The appointment with the Neurologist will be on Thursday.
He will do the compiling of data, it appears though that it is indeed a condition of the remnants of the torture.
Evidently the conditioning of torture and severe abuse causes the body to actually present very real symptoms that mimic other serious (at times ) disorders or ailments.
It is pretty crazy making.
There are those who feign or fake problems.
They cause a world of doubt for those of us who suffer in truth.
An N.E.S. survivor has been so conditioned as to have effects that come out through the physical body. Pain, she said, is sometimes an effect of N.E.S. as well. It is very real, it is just that the source of it is not physical but psychological.
Sorta like being told your crazy.
Not really , but that is what it feels like, and it really hurts my heart.
She said "that I am not to even, ever think that I am "making it up"
it is real and I am not crazy."
I am so very grateful that this is just a part of being me.
A part of being alive after trauma.
It does however break my heart that I have been left to live this life with all the lingering oddities.
She told us that considering all I have know I have a pretty amazing life.
Many people with it commit suicide or just become vegetative, however my sharp mind made me able through the grace and inexplicable mercy of God to make a life for myself.
I kept my word to myself.
I did not let them ( the offenders) win.
She added that even so this "higher functioning" has a high price of stress and intensity that most others thankfully never have to face.
I do not disagree with her there.
I just don't often give myself enough credit for what has been achieved in and through me.
She commented on my ability to find coping methods to overcome the hindrances of the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and even the N.E. S. for that matter.
She warned me with my extensive medical history of corrective surgeries and such due to the trauma, that most physicians will be confused at my symptoms and challenges.
That it is purely based in their ignorance not anything I am doing wrong.
I am tired of being me today.
I wish sometimes I could have never walked this road.
I understand those things that made my peers give up.
If though..., I have any of you peers as readers ...do not give up!
You are not alone and one day knowledge will overcome ignorance.
We will be proven brilliant and courageous.
If even only to ourselves.
Of course that is often the hardest person to convince.
Bless God though that it is not a degenerative condition.
It is just a remnant.
There is a memory aspect that she is yet concerned about , but it appears to be stress related.
At my appointment Thursday I will find out if I am to go any further here.
I tried to get a hold of the support counselor but she is not on my insurance. She did say she would not send me or have me to go to any one who was not a specialist in sever trauma.
So there ya have it.
Rejoice with me, cry with me.
I am both very relieved and yet deeply saddened at my perplexing life.
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
- A serious injury or shock to the body, as from violence or an accident.
- An emotional wound or shock that creates substantial, lasting damage to the psychological development of a person, often leading to neurosis.
- An event or situation that causes great distress and disruption.
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - (PTSD), mental disorder that follows an occurrence of extreme psychological stress, such as that encountered in war or resulting from violence, childhood abuse, sexual abuse, or serious accident. The stressful event is usually followed by a period of emotional numbness and denial that can last for months or years. After that period, symptoms such as recurring nightmares, "flashbacks," short-term memory problems, insomnia, or heightened sensitivity to sudden noises may begin. In some cases outbursts of violent behavior have been observed. The usual treatment for PTSD is individual psychotherapy, including anxiety management, or group psychotherapy with others who have the disorder. Some antianxiety and antidepressant drugs are being studied for their effectiveness.
Certain traits (a history of depression, shyness, impulsivity) appear to heighten a person's risk of experiencing PTSD after a traumatic event. In those who do experience it, there is growing evidence that actual physical changes occur in the brain. The hippocampus, a structure that lies deep in the brain and that is associated with memory, has been found to be smaller in PTSD victims. It has been hypothesized that excesses of cortisol, a steroid hormone released during periods of extreme stress, may damage nerve fibers in the area or actually kill the nerve cells. However, the role of cortisol is not completely understood; studies of concentration camp survivors found abnormally low levels of cortisol rather than abnormally high levels.
Post-traumatic stress disorder was referred to as "shell shock" after World War I and as "battle fatigue" after World War II and was traditionally thought of as a condition of war veterans. Studies of Vietnam veterans and Nazi concentration camp survivors have added greatly to the knowledge of PTSD. The National Vietnam Veterans Readjustment Study (1988) estimated that 31% of the males and 27% of the females who served in the Vietnam War had symptoms of PTSD. Estimates of civilian populations put the rate of PTSD at 10% (women) and 5% (men) in the 15 to 54 age group. Childhood sexual abuse, sexual abuse, and assault are common causes of PTSD in both military and nonmilitary women. In 1989 the U.S. Congress created the National Center for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder for the study and treatment of PTSD.
Although I have been so restored in so many ways (yes God heals) I have torn fibers of this cloth I am made of. To think that you just stitch new cloth to old and call it healed is a bit ludicrous and dangerous. One who then tears at the seam when that new cloth shrinks in their tears is said to be less of a Christian. Well that I find to be just plain cruel.Suppose that is just a bit defensive...I am tired of judgmental ignorance wounding those who suffer enough in this world. Suppose enough said regarding those types of comments.
My relationship and friendship with my maker is quite strong I assure you. It is not for a lack of faith, or effort.
Your toes just might pinch in our shoes if you ever had to trod in them.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Valentine's Day Poem for My Wife
As a child; raised in pain; eager for a fulfilling life, you danced before God.
You danced before your parents.
Your dance is beautiful.
As an adolescent; troubled and tossed about.
Ignored, your eyes were pierced with darts of fire.
You longed for peace and found none.
Your eyes are beautiful.
A young womans feet in a race.
Racing to a place of solace and peace.
The ground shifting all around; upheaval, danger, discord.
Your feet are beautiful.
The woman sets her hands to the task of healing.
She weaves a new life out of tattered remnants.
The pieces fit together and the tapestry begins to reveal the masterpiece.
Your hands are beautiful.
My wife, and mother of my children; your heart is most beautiful of all.
You provide for your family from its bounty every day.
Heart prayers; heart wishes; heart dreams; heart life!
Your heart is beautiful.
You are beautiful.
With all my love,
Steve
You danced before your parents.
Your dance is beautiful.
As an adolescent; troubled and tossed about.
Ignored, your eyes were pierced with darts of fire.
You longed for peace and found none.
Your eyes are beautiful.
A young womans feet in a race.
Racing to a place of solace and peace.
The ground shifting all around; upheaval, danger, discord.
Your feet are beautiful.
The woman sets her hands to the task of healing.
She weaves a new life out of tattered remnants.
The pieces fit together and the tapestry begins to reveal the masterpiece.
Your hands are beautiful.
My wife, and mother of my children; your heart is most beautiful of all.
You provide for your family from its bounty every day.
Heart prayers; heart wishes; heart dreams; heart life!
Your heart is beautiful.
You are beautiful.
With all my love,
Steve
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Neurological psychological testing
The spinning wheel goes round and round.
So many , many times I have spun on this wheel. I have become some what numb.
Today I was awed at the way God brought it about ,but a "mistake" of a secretary that I had canceled the other apt and gained an appointment at this place instead. I thought perhaps the Neurologist wanted me here instead and so just went with it. He told me later that he did not do it. It was an "error".
Amazingly it was the same specialist that saw me at Mayo , she even recognized me.
Strange.
I need to look to see if my records are here somewhere in file.
My medical history is very complex due to the physical reconstructions and the mental/emotional restorations.
Sometimes I resent being kept alive.
It is such a hassle being this vessel of His service.
That's what we are.
For non of this life is really so much about us personally.
Once It was made very clear to me that I had a "ministry " to the Medical profession.
Jie thanks! I say sarcastically...yes respectfully for I am sure God knows what this feels like to be in my position.
It can not be unknown to him.
So if I must concure to agree with this calling than I guess I must.
Did I say it sucks though!
Had to add that in.
I do feel angry for this lot sometimes and rightfully so.
Yet is is like the clay being angrey with the potter for having the audasity to creat someting used for less that pleasurable purposes.
I am the clay. Fired into a greenware. Glazed over with the truth of humanity and the indignities that they so easily treat each other with.
Fired a second time too with the beauty of commpassion.
tasks and test...fire me again.
put me in the kiln...Now I need to cool again before the kiln is opened up and the clay witnessed by those looking in.
Now the white heat f the fire is clearing the dross some more and hardening the finery of all that is me.
who am I to think it better to dash this pot against a wall in my frustration!
Mary Margrett Mc Guire...
she and I did pottery togeather.
she owned her own kiln...
I have three very priceless items no four.
They are treasures of a life lost...
I also have a sweet beaded doll.Only 3 inches tall she sits in her querky way.
"a chair full of bowlies."
I spoke to her last Just after we returned from Russia with Dove.
She a juvinile hospice nurseWounded over her scars by that profession.
She played the piano beautifully. I have a cassett tape of "goodnight jamile" a lulliby she wrote/for her patient who died.
Mary Margrett died.
They found her dead.
A few years before they found her in her shower cut open from foot to thigh. they saved her. Her wounds scared deeply by her own hand. Her youth was in a hospital. There she was as a child violently raped by a male orderly. Then a child , no one ever found out her terrifying secrete.
It also like me was joined by the terrors that occure to choildren unattended or trusted to the wolves in sheeps clothing, in her jurney it was on a catholic ulter in the evening at a time set aside for the youth at services. Bastard! He the trusted preacher. He a santanist in a pretence of a priest. Yep
my dear friend. she did not think that she would ever have childern...she never had a husband...she saw me...
She was found dead two weeks after Dove came home...
She never saw dove. I didnot get to celibrate Dove with my best friend. I had the baby I waited 16 years for and my best friend killed herself. She became hopeless and my recieving a child just put all of it in her face.
She was found nicely in her bed Dead.
Mary Margrette and I were born on the same day. we were the exact same age.
we had the same sufferings and the servival...well I servived. she did not.
I owe this to her .
this tribute not to toss this clay aside.
I owe it to me.
she fell of and shattered broken to a million piesces.
I never got to go to her funeral.
they did not have one.
she was as if ...like my life...she was as if she never really existed.
but she did she was a thriving beautiful woman!
Her hair was black she looked like Mary Englbrite.
She tought me how to play.
When I was in the hospital after remembering the Murder she invited me to her hospital room...
she had made a tent of sheets on chairs and her bed. we sat undr it and it was beautiful. It was safe and dear and innocent and pure and beautiul...
I will never forget her.
One day I might try to go to New Mexico and find her , but I do not think they gave her a grave.
they burned her too. Like carolyn by cremation.
That really really upset me. When her dad said that it was tramatic...
but I was a new mom. I had to snap out of it fast...like it never really happend. So I could be there for my new daughter. It was such hard time becoming a new mom.
Not the joy of motherhood untouched.
dove was sick, My "dad" died a few weeks later...last thing he said was "did you know I love you?"...I had to say "no did I really did not know if you really did">Thats another story.
Within the first 6 months of doves homecoming Mary Margrett , my dad and my adopted dad all died.
It was too much to take.
Then just before Dash came home just three years later my mom died...
So how thick was this glaze fired onto me in this kiln suposed to get?
What is it I am supposed to be when the fires are over.
pure glaze? Then I suppose this vessel will simply disappear and only the glaze will be visible.
I do hope its pretty .
I do hope that I do not crack or crackle. Drip or my colors run
Yes we did ceramics togeather.
It is a lovely art form.
I stoped doing ceramics after she lost 9her battle) the darkness seams to have won. Mercy must be for her.
I did a tea pot with a friend.
just last year.
I did a honey pot with her and two others.
It hurts to do ceramics somehow. I miss her.
she was so beautiful, like a glow light on fourth of july.
Now she was a vessel, so many crackles and scares nad so much a shattered pot at the end. There must of been a bubble in the clay.
You would think that all that she went through that any air would of been wedged out of her.
I guess you would have to throw on a wheel to understand that.
Oh it spins and spins...
I'll just cool a while and let this last coat set.
So many , many times I have spun on this wheel. I have become some what numb.
Today I was awed at the way God brought it about ,but a "mistake" of a secretary that I had canceled the other apt and gained an appointment at this place instead. I thought perhaps the Neurologist wanted me here instead and so just went with it. He told me later that he did not do it. It was an "error".
Amazingly it was the same specialist that saw me at Mayo , she even recognized me.
Strange.
I need to look to see if my records are here somewhere in file.
My medical history is very complex due to the physical reconstructions and the mental/emotional restorations.
Sometimes I resent being kept alive.
It is such a hassle being this vessel of His service.
That's what we are.
For non of this life is really so much about us personally.
Once It was made very clear to me that I had a "ministry " to the Medical profession.
Jie thanks! I say sarcastically...yes respectfully for I am sure God knows what this feels like to be in my position.
It can not be unknown to him.
So if I must concure to agree with this calling than I guess I must.
Did I say it sucks though!
Had to add that in.
I do feel angry for this lot sometimes and rightfully so.
Yet is is like the clay being angrey with the potter for having the audasity to creat someting used for less that pleasurable purposes.
I am the clay. Fired into a greenware. Glazed over with the truth of humanity and the indignities that they so easily treat each other with.
Fired a second time too with the beauty of commpassion.
tasks and test...fire me again.
put me in the kiln...Now I need to cool again before the kiln is opened up and the clay witnessed by those looking in.
Now the white heat f the fire is clearing the dross some more and hardening the finery of all that is me.
who am I to think it better to dash this pot against a wall in my frustration!
Mary Margrett Mc Guire...
she and I did pottery togeather.
she owned her own kiln...
I have three very priceless items no four.
They are treasures of a life lost...
I also have a sweet beaded doll.Only 3 inches tall she sits in her querky way.
"a chair full of bowlies."
I spoke to her last Just after we returned from Russia with Dove.
She a juvinile hospice nurseWounded over her scars by that profession.
She played the piano beautifully. I have a cassett tape of "goodnight jamile" a lulliby she wrote/for her patient who died.
Mary Margrett died.
They found her dead.
A few years before they found her in her shower cut open from foot to thigh. they saved her. Her wounds scared deeply by her own hand. Her youth was in a hospital. There she was as a child violently raped by a male orderly. Then a child , no one ever found out her terrifying secrete.
It also like me was joined by the terrors that occure to choildren unattended or trusted to the wolves in sheeps clothing, in her jurney it was on a catholic ulter in the evening at a time set aside for the youth at services. Bastard! He the trusted preacher. He a santanist in a pretence of a priest. Yep
my dear friend. she did not think that she would ever have childern...she never had a husband...she saw me...
She was found dead two weeks after Dove came home...
She never saw dove. I didnot get to celibrate Dove with my best friend. I had the baby I waited 16 years for and my best friend killed herself. She became hopeless and my recieving a child just put all of it in her face.
She was found nicely in her bed Dead.
Mary Margrette and I were born on the same day. we were the exact same age.
we had the same sufferings and the servival...well I servived. she did not.
I owe this to her .
this tribute not to toss this clay aside.
I owe it to me.
she fell of and shattered broken to a million piesces.
I never got to go to her funeral.
they did not have one.
she was as if ...like my life...she was as if she never really existed.
but she did she was a thriving beautiful woman!
Her hair was black she looked like Mary Englbrite.
She tought me how to play.
When I was in the hospital after remembering the Murder she invited me to her hospital room...
she had made a tent of sheets on chairs and her bed. we sat undr it and it was beautiful. It was safe and dear and innocent and pure and beautiul...
I will never forget her.
One day I might try to go to New Mexico and find her , but I do not think they gave her a grave.
they burned her too. Like carolyn by cremation.
That really really upset me. When her dad said that it was tramatic...
but I was a new mom. I had to snap out of it fast...like it never really happend. So I could be there for my new daughter. It was such hard time becoming a new mom.
Not the joy of motherhood untouched.
dove was sick, My "dad" died a few weeks later...last thing he said was "did you know I love you?"...I had to say "no did I really did not know if you really did">Thats another story.
Within the first 6 months of doves homecoming Mary Margrett , my dad and my adopted dad all died.
It was too much to take.
Then just before Dash came home just three years later my mom died...
So how thick was this glaze fired onto me in this kiln suposed to get?
What is it I am supposed to be when the fires are over.
pure glaze? Then I suppose this vessel will simply disappear and only the glaze will be visible.
I do hope its pretty .
I do hope that I do not crack or crackle. Drip or my colors run
Yes we did ceramics togeather.
It is a lovely art form.
I stoped doing ceramics after she lost 9her battle) the darkness seams to have won. Mercy must be for her.
I did a tea pot with a friend.
just last year.
I did a honey pot with her and two others.
It hurts to do ceramics somehow. I miss her.
she was so beautiful, like a glow light on fourth of july.
Now she was a vessel, so many crackles and scares nad so much a shattered pot at the end. There must of been a bubble in the clay.
You would think that all that she went through that any air would of been wedged out of her.
I guess you would have to throw on a wheel to understand that.
Oh it spins and spins...
I'll just cool a while and let this last coat set.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Friendship
Greater love has no man or woman, boy or girl, than to lay down their life for an other.
This is a love that surpasses the ego.
It overcomes the pride.
It silences the greed.
It gives beyond measure.
It does not consider consequences brought on by doing what is right.
It counts that as loss to gain a greater good.
Such as it is with Christ Jesus.
Such as it was with Carolyn, in my childhood.
she herself only being a child in her mid teens.
This friendship is such, that age has no barrier except that when much has been gained (as in possessions or prestige) it is a great deal more difficult to offer.
That I think is why as adults we have a terribly difficult time "loving " others.
When we have not known love it is also a pretty difficult thing to offer.
Carolyn's sacrifice, quite literally, was an example to me at a very early age.
Yesterday my boy gave such a gift to two friends who were being picked on.
Today he is going without recess for doing so in a flawed manner.
Non the less this is a gift he offered.
He wanted so to avoid school today for the loss and the threat also of retaliation.
I can understand this.
Because of that I was able to offer him this council.
My eyes were clear to the fact that each one of us from a very early age had to try on new hats to see what one would socially best fit us.
Many of us had those hats put on us by others, cruel kids or adults.
At times forced on for survival.
We are not that person way deep into our souls but we often try hard to find a place of safety. Especially deep within our oun hearts.
This often can cause us to forget who we really are.
Our authintic self is lost to the servival.
The innate needs for acceptance and safety.
It is in great courage we must overcome those limitations upon us.
In remembering who I am I remember those who I have known.
I consider the influences that they have each had on me.
Each of you and all who I know and or come in contact with act as a mirror.
This morning I had my boy stand in front of a mirror.
I asked him who he sees.
I asked him what his name is.
I reminded him that he had no obligation to "place a hat" conform to the world around him.
I want to teach them to be true to who they are.
I once told my daughter that I understood that she may need to hide her innocence, but to never loose it or harden herself to it.
To keep it hidden if she must to survive, but never let anyone take it from her.
It was for me this hiding that kept me alive.
Each day as I raise these sweet children of mine I am reminded of those things within me who I am.
How it is in being who I am that I will be empowered to keep them free
(to the best of my ability ) to be true heart.
I saw how many of the true hearts that could not make it through the mire took their lives .
Yes I have lost both close friends and acquaintances by suicide.
These are the great losses in my life.
Those who had so little support in being true heart.
Whose hearts had been so wounded and torn at that they could not be true heart and live.
These who I had the great privilege of knowing then by their true heart.
Only I in many cases were allowed into the inner chamber of their authentic selves.
They lost the battle to the soul killing forces of this world, or better said of the darkness that has come to steal this world from us.
I want to talk more about my friends.
Two in particular, but as of yet it is just so tender.
I just had to say...
Being true heart takes all the courage and strength we can muster.
It takes such safety that I do not know if we can really be totally true heart here.
I do hope so.
It is my way of fighting for it.
It does take such great risk.
For each of us fear what would happen around us if we stopped playing or living under a hat of expectations whether from within or without.
God knows our true heart.
Remember who you are...
I have so injured my own children even in this.
It is all I desire to restore and support them in being true to their hearts.
This is who God created them to be.
This is the true wealth that is gifted them and us as an inheritance.
Keep your innocence ,even if you must hide it to be safe.
It is my heart for you that safety come for you that you find a life of living in our true heart the prize.
This is the ultimate recovery.
Taking back what is ours.
Never allowing anyone or anything to take it from us.
That threat of retaliation for standing up for what is right...
That threat for being true heart and all the power that that gives us to become a great threat...
Well letting that true heart be stolen is worse.
The threat of being given a retribution does not even give measure to losing your heart.
With all diligence KEEP YOU HEART!
Friday, February 6, 2009
all ye all ye out come FREE.
Another morning headache
This one I brought on to myself. Yesterday I bought donuts and gave the children a treat.
This particular child had two to many. So it is sometimes with me. That is how I have dealt with life a bit.
Through an eating disorder.
I wish that I knew all the migraines were that cut and dry. They are not.
An eating disorder is pretty common for we who have this journey. As is most addictions you could list. I got off a bit easier though than most. I do excuse this far too easy though. I know that God stands waiting to heal this too. I have been delivered from addictions of smoking pot many many a year ago.
I was going to the 12 step O.A. meeting for a while. I would forget to go though. I never really fit in right . Of course that is how I have felt most of my life and in most circumstances. Yet another common thread in a survivors life. I don't know it just sorta felt fatalistic. Like there is no end. I was doing pretty well on the road until two years ago when I went for help and the Phyc. said he needed me to go through an early dementia screening and I just shut up into the trunk again. Only taking scraps of food to ease the loneliness.
This has been a remarkable lonely life for me. Knowing God as a friend during my life is my solace. Those times though when I have refused his directions those were the worse. I supose even worse then when my body was not mine.
I was a frightened child turning away. I want him to calm my fears and I want to trust. I have spent so many years testing Him out making little risks to see that truly He is trustworthy. Man however...It is these humans around me who broke trust ....over and over again.
I think in all of this I may find a new phyc. One who is better schooled in PTSD. He did not pursue me. I knew he would not. Rarely does anyone really pursue anyone any more.
Sometimes when we run away it is to see if anyone will really come looking for us. Or is the worst really true? That they really dont want to be bothered to find me.
Do you really want to be bothered to really find those you love?
Do you long for their genuine self?
The person they are behind the wounds behind the vial.
It is exhausting to pursue folks especially if you don't say"alli alli out come free" once in a while . When you stop counting and they are well hidden,,,do you still keep looking? Do you just quit and go on to your next thing to do or do you call to them? ...all all out come your free...?
Many have called that to me and yet I was afraid to believe them that if I took myself out from hiding that I would be free from the pangs of a game lost to my searcher. When in actuality won to me for they never found me and it was I who had the power to reveal myself.
We reveal ourselves only to those who call out to us and surrender the catch, give us the acknowledgment and the prize of reward. That reward is we come out of hiding and there you are glad to see us, approving us of our skill to out wit...and the joy of our achievement by upon your face.
All All out come free...
This one I brought on to myself. Yesterday I bought donuts and gave the children a treat.
This particular child had two to many. So it is sometimes with me. That is how I have dealt with life a bit.
Through an eating disorder.
I wish that I knew all the migraines were that cut and dry. They are not.
An eating disorder is pretty common for we who have this journey. As is most addictions you could list. I got off a bit easier though than most. I do excuse this far too easy though. I know that God stands waiting to heal this too. I have been delivered from addictions of smoking pot many many a year ago.
I was going to the 12 step O.A. meeting for a while. I would forget to go though. I never really fit in right . Of course that is how I have felt most of my life and in most circumstances. Yet another common thread in a survivors life. I don't know it just sorta felt fatalistic. Like there is no end. I was doing pretty well on the road until two years ago when I went for help and the Phyc. said he needed me to go through an early dementia screening and I just shut up into the trunk again. Only taking scraps of food to ease the loneliness.
This has been a remarkable lonely life for me. Knowing God as a friend during my life is my solace. Those times though when I have refused his directions those were the worse. I supose even worse then when my body was not mine.
I was a frightened child turning away. I want him to calm my fears and I want to trust. I have spent so many years testing Him out making little risks to see that truly He is trustworthy. Man however...It is these humans around me who broke trust ....over and over again.
I think in all of this I may find a new phyc. One who is better schooled in PTSD. He did not pursue me. I knew he would not. Rarely does anyone really pursue anyone any more.
Sometimes when we run away it is to see if anyone will really come looking for us. Or is the worst really true? That they really dont want to be bothered to find me.
Do you really want to be bothered to really find those you love?
Do you long for their genuine self?
The person they are behind the wounds behind the vial.
It is exhausting to pursue folks especially if you don't say"alli alli out come free" once in a while . When you stop counting and they are well hidden,,,do you still keep looking? Do you just quit and go on to your next thing to do or do you call to them? ...all all out come your free...?
Many have called that to me and yet I was afraid to believe them that if I took myself out from hiding that I would be free from the pangs of a game lost to my searcher. When in actuality won to me for they never found me and it was I who had the power to reveal myself.
We reveal ourselves only to those who call out to us and surrender the catch, give us the acknowledgment and the prize of reward. That reward is we come out of hiding and there you are glad to see us, approving us of our skill to out wit...and the joy of our achievement by upon your face.
All All out come free...
You made it!
They could not find you.
even though your thrill was for them not to stop trying
The count is over...
They could not find you.
even though your thrill was for them not to stop trying
The count is over...
all ye, all ye, out come FREE!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Carolyns Eyes
Her eyes come to me sometimes. That last view I had of her beautiful spirit. It was still comforting me. Still tender still kind. With everything that was happening to her. She looked through me and rested her soul in Gods hands. When she left it was then just the shell she is no more.
But the sacrilege the violation of all that is sacred all that is holy...it bore too much for me a child to take. I think my mind just snapped. It was like my eyes left this place with her. I could not keep present while they became jackals and tore at her remains.
Mother held my shoulders. It was like a was going to be ripped apart as I struggled to try to get to my dear friend. .. No one helped her; they all stood as robots and stared and wanted out of fear... the approval of the leader. They all sugared him with the adoration ...the measly pitiful demons at satans feet. Just like that.
Like gargoils on the roof tops to watch for what is evil they are just as afraid knowing the leader would require of them those deeds set to ashur their own safty through the apperance of loalty.
So it must of been with hitler...
Yet some were wicked to the core and finding pleasure and inticing the orgy of glutony and sin.
Sins so vial that even though I as a christain understand foregiveness am baffeled at how God could ever achieve it toward these heathen...sodom and gamora...how could he then be sad and vow to never do that to rid the earth of them.
That is the depdth of His Love for this world. Pretty mind blowing stuff.
...and lucifer the arch angle fell and took with him 1/3 of the heavonly hosts.
Wow what a bad choice they made. Try getting out of that mistake...I wonder if the angles repented if any of them might have recieved mercy...
just God is just.
A year later in the hospital I had commeted to calling the police and reporting those events in the canyon..........A woman had called shortly before me and told them of the same things occuring during the same period in time.
It was only then I knew I was sane and telling a actual event and details that were so terribly accuraite.
My friend who watched over the little children during the events of the stone table was murdered. She was trying to protect me. She knew it was me that they had set their plans on that night.
Carolyns eyes...
They were holy peaceful one the pain was gone before she flew away.
But the sacrilege the violation of all that is sacred all that is holy...it bore too much for me a child to take. I think my mind just snapped. It was like my eyes left this place with her. I could not keep present while they became jackals and tore at her remains.
Mother held my shoulders. It was like a was going to be ripped apart as I struggled to try to get to my dear friend. .. No one helped her; they all stood as robots and stared and wanted out of fear... the approval of the leader. They all sugared him with the adoration ...the measly pitiful demons at satans feet. Just like that.
Like gargoils on the roof tops to watch for what is evil they are just as afraid knowing the leader would require of them those deeds set to ashur their own safty through the apperance of loalty.
So it must of been with hitler...
Yet some were wicked to the core and finding pleasure and inticing the orgy of glutony and sin.
Sins so vial that even though I as a christain understand foregiveness am baffeled at how God could ever achieve it toward these heathen...sodom and gamora...how could he then be sad and vow to never do that to rid the earth of them.
That is the depdth of His Love for this world. Pretty mind blowing stuff.
...and lucifer the arch angle fell and took with him 1/3 of the heavonly hosts.
Wow what a bad choice they made. Try getting out of that mistake...I wonder if the angles repented if any of them might have recieved mercy...
just God is just.
A year later in the hospital I had commeted to calling the police and reporting those events in the canyon..........A woman had called shortly before me and told them of the same things occuring during the same period in time.
It was only then I knew I was sane and telling a actual event and details that were so terribly accuraite.
My friend who watched over the little children during the events of the stone table was murdered. She was trying to protect me. She knew it was me that they had set their plans on that night.
Carolyns eyes...
They were holy peaceful one the pain was gone before she flew away.
The truth about life today
I know that God loves me beyond anything I can understand. I was very angry and just blew off the crust yesterday. This megma runs deep
I had myself today. Happy and truely vibrant. I did not hold it all in. My hands are better for it too.
Today I got to go get the preperation work for my new tooth. A simply mold/impression made for the tooth to be created that will soon set upon the post of the implant.
The upper try was prepared, I was so excited and pure joy flowed in me. After a year or so my new tooth. this molar has been gone now almost a year I think?
Any way great conversations flowing and a real pleasure.
Then she did the "simply" (perhaps for any of you) placement of the moth piece with the gooy mixture to set the impression.
My body was gagging violently. It was horrible. some off the casting material ozzed against the back of my throat. It was so aweful. I had to do everything I could do to bring in every bit of force to stop from freeking out! My whole body went into fight flight and I had to convence it to calm. With everything I had in me all the pain of those events of youth came at me.
Even in Christ , this is what my life is like.
Most of you never could tell that about me because "I manage" my PTSD. I RUN into God when it is happening. I try not to cry for I am so sad that I was so brutalized that even all these years later...a simple dental impression with those bright lights in the face can take all of me to stay centered. It takes so much energy to be me.
I felt like crying when they removed it.
Then later the dentist came in and did the lower jaw and the implnat preperation work.
It was not as bad yet it was very difficulet.
This is how I am blessed.
I left joyfull because it is paid in full. They even reduced the charge $20. because he used a different thing on it. Or perhaps it was favor.
The dentist and I talked about living devt free.
My tooth...We saved up for it. It is PAID IN FULL>
So ya know. any of you who follow me forgive me for not letting you in on the whole story of what it is to live recovered yet effected by the sins of others.
It does not go away but God gives you the strength to go through it. Even that though takes a tole.
To whom much is given , much is required.
I really hate the body memories I live with. It is not because I am a faulting Christian either as some religion or pharasee type condemnation can push me away into a silence. I did not relize what an effect it has had on me. Even me after all these years.
I am no less mature , no less a sage because I suffer. I am however hiding the full truth of what he has taken me out of. But for this that there are those of you out there who are suffering in such incredable silence. I am not numb to your expierence. I have found tools to get through it.
I hope you can stand against the onslaught of "just forget the past and it will go away" ...hows that working for ya?
yes behold all things become new...
letting go of what lies behind pressing on toward the mark of my high calling in Christ...
I have just held them from you. I have denied my high calling...I have hidden it out of fear of ridicule from the religious sect. Danger from the beasts still among us. Who yes most of them were once like us but chose "BY THE ACT OF THEIR WILL TO CONTINUE IT"...
You know there are codes of conduct that make it all to easy for evil to flurish.
hear no evil , speak no evil, see no evil...
wise as the serpent! speeking against all that aflict the innocent, that means exposing it not hiding it cause it is to horrible to verbalize. That is an error that empowers evil to continue and flurish. Those who do evil know this. That is why the deed done are so grotesk so no one will ever tell. I was just that rebal who promised I would. That is who I am.
That is who I have shut up in a trunk so noone could hurt me anymore.
I want out, telling in therapy or just to one person (Mr U.) just does not heal it.
I remember when I was dealing with Carolins murder noone would hear it at the hospital. They had to set up an appointment with this one and only nurse who was willing to hear it. I was so lonely...she was understandably cloaked in a defence. that is why it is so held alone within me.
Please dont tell me to go to counseling or all of that. Been there done that if I am suposed to go back I will. If you say that to me it just is used by by the enemy of my mind to just shut me up.
That is unles I stand up to it.
I had myself today. Happy and truely vibrant. I did not hold it all in. My hands are better for it too.
Today I got to go get the preperation work for my new tooth. A simply mold/impression made for the tooth to be created that will soon set upon the post of the implant.
The upper try was prepared, I was so excited and pure joy flowed in me. After a year or so my new tooth. this molar has been gone now almost a year I think?
Any way great conversations flowing and a real pleasure.
Then she did the "simply" (perhaps for any of you) placement of the moth piece with the gooy mixture to set the impression.
My body was gagging violently. It was horrible. some off the casting material ozzed against the back of my throat. It was so aweful. I had to do everything I could do to bring in every bit of force to stop from freeking out! My whole body went into fight flight and I had to convence it to calm. With everything I had in me all the pain of those events of youth came at me.
Even in Christ , this is what my life is like.
Most of you never could tell that about me because "I manage" my PTSD. I RUN into God when it is happening. I try not to cry for I am so sad that I was so brutalized that even all these years later...a simple dental impression with those bright lights in the face can take all of me to stay centered. It takes so much energy to be me.
I felt like crying when they removed it.
Then later the dentist came in and did the lower jaw and the implnat preperation work.
It was not as bad yet it was very difficulet.
This is how I am blessed.
I left joyfull because it is paid in full. They even reduced the charge $20. because he used a different thing on it. Or perhaps it was favor.
The dentist and I talked about living devt free.
My tooth...We saved up for it. It is PAID IN FULL>
So ya know. any of you who follow me forgive me for not letting you in on the whole story of what it is to live recovered yet effected by the sins of others.
It does not go away but God gives you the strength to go through it. Even that though takes a tole.
To whom much is given , much is required.
I really hate the body memories I live with. It is not because I am a faulting Christian either as some religion or pharasee type condemnation can push me away into a silence. I did not relize what an effect it has had on me. Even me after all these years.
I am no less mature , no less a sage because I suffer. I am however hiding the full truth of what he has taken me out of. But for this that there are those of you out there who are suffering in such incredable silence. I am not numb to your expierence. I have found tools to get through it.
I hope you can stand against the onslaught of "just forget the past and it will go away" ...hows that working for ya?
yes behold all things become new...
letting go of what lies behind pressing on toward the mark of my high calling in Christ...
I have just held them from you. I have denied my high calling...I have hidden it out of fear of ridicule from the religious sect. Danger from the beasts still among us. Who yes most of them were once like us but chose "BY THE ACT OF THEIR WILL TO CONTINUE IT"...
You know there are codes of conduct that make it all to easy for evil to flurish.
hear no evil , speak no evil, see no evil...
wise as the serpent! speeking against all that aflict the innocent, that means exposing it not hiding it cause it is to horrible to verbalize. That is an error that empowers evil to continue and flurish. Those who do evil know this. That is why the deed done are so grotesk so no one will ever tell. I was just that rebal who promised I would. That is who I am.
That is who I have shut up in a trunk so noone could hurt me anymore.
I want out, telling in therapy or just to one person (Mr U.) just does not heal it.
I remember when I was dealing with Carolins murder noone would hear it at the hospital. They had to set up an appointment with this one and only nurse who was willing to hear it. I was so lonely...she was understandably cloaked in a defence. that is why it is so held alone within me.
Please dont tell me to go to counseling or all of that. Been there done that if I am suposed to go back I will. If you say that to me it just is used by by the enemy of my mind to just shut me up.
That is unles I stand up to it.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
PTSD
Ptsd sucks!
parasites of my mind
Left a thoughtful comment on the other blog about restoration.
I went through a lot of recovery. I never really ever told people about the expirences in detail of what I went through.
In an attempt to perhaps challenge the ghosts of the past, those that are not in my waking thoughts but disturb me with in congruent actions perhaps I might open up a little.
these migraines are photo synthetic. The bright lights in my eyes bring them on. It is really annoying. It sets off a rage in my and a fit of frustration follows. Then I feel like crap about myself because I act like someone I am not (ie a sharp tongued mean person) spitting out self assertions that I matter!
I was reading this womans blog posts and thought what if she has a point here. I know all the religious stuff does not just make it go away. "the past is the past , forget about it". Wow that would be so cool if I could get along with that. I will not be a heal though.
I have riden this hours a lone for a long long time.
I skirt around the expierences telling generalities of wha tit was like or the legal terms for what they did to me.
Those who are clostest to me have never even heard the details of what it was like to have expierenced thow horrific events.
I have often been told that it is such an amazing story, how I have to tell it. In that I hear "tickel my ear with all the gory details so I can stand amazed at how wicked people can be.
Well I feel angry because these things happened to me and I shut my mouth. I hold it in. I hang on and in there trying my best to look at today with joy and delight, gratitude and expectation. My "damned" past is just that damned! My present and future are the things that are blessed. I hate my childhood and I am pissed that I know what I know and have seen what I have seen.
In the scriptures I read speek on these things that you have seen and heard and witnessed in Me.
In God!
Not inthe evil. so the evil is withheld. Hidden away away in those lonly hurt devistated places. Poetry and novel via fictional characters. To tell you first hand exactly what it was like would haunt you and give you the bad dreams that were a reality for me. So out of that concideration for those around me I hold the secreates of horror that noone should ever know.
Those bright lights of childhood
Get ready because I am really Pist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Alright ( by the way reader I am not angry at you) I am just sick of these flippen migrains and if this might just be what it takes than fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Man I am afraid my nails are short for this world. Maybe thats why they have been bit to nubs.
Those bright light.
They were set up to photgraph via vidio. Those old type reel to reels that clicked and clampered as they filmed. Those bastards who then drugged me those perverted set to be killed bastards!
Men! I a ofur year old! Men! they had not bussines with me.
God....Dear God almight what if you bastards a kin to them read this you dirty buggers!
how dare you touch us!Thjat would just suit your fancy for me to tickle your ears with my horror tail you bastardsz!
to delete or not to delete.....
You must know this is the pandoras box.
What they did to me.
The horror of being washed in a tub and hearing them say "she will never remember this' dirty bastard . I kept my word and I told on all of ya! dead now dead and gone and than you live still this day doing it over and over generation ofter generation!
breath.............
I awoke in a stupper. I had wet my underware.....with blood.
I stood at the sink afraid of what my mother would do if I caused her more laundry.
I wet the bed a lot and she was very frustrated with me. I learned to sleep in urine soaked linins as to avoid her anger. so I never told her about the blood. I tried to wash it out at the little sink. That little pedisel sink in the bathroom where he raped me for the first time at four years old.
where I tried to crawl away from hip backward like a russian dance. and he pinned me agains tthe wall on the floor.
that dirty bastard! his own wife would not even have him!!!!!!!
They lived in our basement. The best thing that "ever happened for my mom" a built in childcare. They just had to pay less rent for the bennefit of raping her dayghter. Dear old uncle bill (lack of caps are intentional!) . He was not even blood related! I hate it when people act like folk are relations when they are not. makes a kid feel obligated!
these people followed us all over the country. they moved to evey city my mom did. Built in VICTEMMM@!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So I had no memory of my childhood .
when I was 18 years old a call came in at my employment. I heard "your uncle bill died" , just thought you would like to know..."
They found me in the bathroom at the bank hitting my head hard against the bathroom walls.
I had no cognitive memory at 18 of why or who or what he had done to me .
That was not restored until i was 26.........I could not remember when I had lost my verjinty
I was praying and asking God about it. You see by then I was a believing in Christ Christian and people talked about that alot. .
That was the first flash back I had.
It was a living breathing flashback as if I was there in that bathroom trying to escape bill.
My husband had to help me through the memory helping me to keep my eys open. If I closed them I was 4 years old again like it was happening at that very moment.
a few years before that I had gone for prayer for I was tormented with anxiety and fear, panic attacts and episodes of awakeing in a closet not knowing how I got there.
These well meaning , IGNORANT pentacostal Christians said I had a demon in me. They did an exercist on me ..........yep..........from the fire to the frying pan.
I just went farther within.
Folks did not understand at all about PTSD back then . infact my early writtings were actually used in some of the early medical conventions on servivors recovery methods,
a great story....i just withdrew.
Bright lights. on me and cutting into me. they hurt.....they tore my flesh.....I bled. They quickend me to fight the drug they gave me and to tell to witness, to make them unsuccessful in "she wont remember". Sometimes I wish I couldnot remember. But I have always been the strong willed to do what is just kind of girl.
thats all I have to say ablut that.
parasites of my mind
Left a thoughtful comment on the other blog about restoration.
I went through a lot of recovery. I never really ever told people about the expirences in detail of what I went through.
In an attempt to perhaps challenge the ghosts of the past, those that are not in my waking thoughts but disturb me with in congruent actions perhaps I might open up a little.
these migraines are photo synthetic. The bright lights in my eyes bring them on. It is really annoying. It sets off a rage in my and a fit of frustration follows. Then I feel like crap about myself because I act like someone I am not (ie a sharp tongued mean person) spitting out self assertions that I matter!
I was reading this womans blog posts and thought what if she has a point here. I know all the religious stuff does not just make it go away. "the past is the past , forget about it". Wow that would be so cool if I could get along with that. I will not be a heal though.
I have riden this hours a lone for a long long time.
I skirt around the expierences telling generalities of wha tit was like or the legal terms for what they did to me.
Those who are clostest to me have never even heard the details of what it was like to have expierenced thow horrific events.
I have often been told that it is such an amazing story, how I have to tell it. In that I hear "tickel my ear with all the gory details so I can stand amazed at how wicked people can be.
Well I feel angry because these things happened to me and I shut my mouth. I hold it in. I hang on and in there trying my best to look at today with joy and delight, gratitude and expectation. My "damned" past is just that damned! My present and future are the things that are blessed. I hate my childhood and I am pissed that I know what I know and have seen what I have seen.
In the scriptures I read speek on these things that you have seen and heard and witnessed in Me.
In God!
Not inthe evil. so the evil is withheld. Hidden away away in those lonly hurt devistated places. Poetry and novel via fictional characters. To tell you first hand exactly what it was like would haunt you and give you the bad dreams that were a reality for me. So out of that concideration for those around me I hold the secreates of horror that noone should ever know.
Those bright lights of childhood
Get ready because I am really Pist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Alright ( by the way reader I am not angry at you) I am just sick of these flippen migrains and if this might just be what it takes than fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Man I am afraid my nails are short for this world. Maybe thats why they have been bit to nubs.
Those bright light.
They were set up to photgraph via vidio. Those old type reel to reels that clicked and clampered as they filmed. Those bastards who then drugged me those perverted set to be killed bastards!
Men! I a ofur year old! Men! they had not bussines with me.
God....Dear God almight what if you bastards a kin to them read this you dirty buggers!
how dare you touch us!Thjat would just suit your fancy for me to tickle your ears with my horror tail you bastardsz!
to delete or not to delete.....
You must know this is the pandoras box.
What they did to me.
The horror of being washed in a tub and hearing them say "she will never remember this' dirty bastard . I kept my word and I told on all of ya! dead now dead and gone and than you live still this day doing it over and over generation ofter generation!
breath.............
I awoke in a stupper. I had wet my underware.....with blood.
I stood at the sink afraid of what my mother would do if I caused her more laundry.
I wet the bed a lot and she was very frustrated with me. I learned to sleep in urine soaked linins as to avoid her anger. so I never told her about the blood. I tried to wash it out at the little sink. That little pedisel sink in the bathroom where he raped me for the first time at four years old.
where I tried to crawl away from hip backward like a russian dance. and he pinned me agains tthe wall on the floor.
that dirty bastard! his own wife would not even have him!!!!!!!
They lived in our basement. The best thing that "ever happened for my mom" a built in childcare. They just had to pay less rent for the bennefit of raping her dayghter. Dear old uncle bill (lack of caps are intentional!) . He was not even blood related! I hate it when people act like folk are relations when they are not. makes a kid feel obligated!
these people followed us all over the country. they moved to evey city my mom did. Built in VICTEMMM@!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So I had no memory of my childhood .
when I was 18 years old a call came in at my employment. I heard "your uncle bill died" , just thought you would like to know..."
They found me in the bathroom at the bank hitting my head hard against the bathroom walls.
I had no cognitive memory at 18 of why or who or what he had done to me .
That was not restored until i was 26.........I could not remember when I had lost my verjinty
I was praying and asking God about it. You see by then I was a believing in Christ Christian and people talked about that alot. .
That was the first flash back I had.
It was a living breathing flashback as if I was there in that bathroom trying to escape bill.
My husband had to help me through the memory helping me to keep my eys open. If I closed them I was 4 years old again like it was happening at that very moment.
a few years before that I had gone for prayer for I was tormented with anxiety and fear, panic attacts and episodes of awakeing in a closet not knowing how I got there.
These well meaning , IGNORANT pentacostal Christians said I had a demon in me. They did an exercist on me ..........yep..........from the fire to the frying pan.
I just went farther within.
Folks did not understand at all about PTSD back then . infact my early writtings were actually used in some of the early medical conventions on servivors recovery methods,
a great story....i just withdrew.
Bright lights. on me and cutting into me. they hurt.....they tore my flesh.....I bled. They quickend me to fight the drug they gave me and to tell to witness, to make them unsuccessful in "she wont remember". Sometimes I wish I couldnot remember. But I have always been the strong willed to do what is just kind of girl.
thats all I have to say ablut that.
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