Walking Wounded

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Teenage Abortion at a Planned Parenthood Clinic (written many many years ago)

I know that I am forgiven and I have forgiven myself. This is a journey a tale told to a group of Medical professionals and used at a women s conference in AZ in the late 1990's. My OB read it aloud to the audience studying the effects of abortion on women.

My mother worked hard, and did her best to raise us.  She had never had parents to teach her how to raise children.  I was never told that pre-marital sex was wrong.  My unsuspecting mother trusted me greatly.  At sixteen I was searching for love and acceptance.  My mother was in the hospital with a breakdown when I discovered I was pregnant.  I had no one to counsel me.  I was alone.  I went to a planned parenthood clinic to receive advice.  They confirmed my pregnancy, yet offered me no encouragement or referrals.  I was never told about any organization that offered help.  They pointed me down the path to a Riverside, Ca. clinic.  I was left to feel that abortion was my only alternative other than suicide.  I hope that as you read this that you consider the desperate need that young women have.  We need support.  We do not need a easy way out! The long term effects of my trauma were devastating.  My friends dropped me off at the clinic.  I was alone.  I waited in fear and humiliation.  Then my name was called, I was led to a cubical, and a woman said "have you considered adoption?"  I asked how could I? Knowing my mothers state of mind I was fearful.  She checked the box.  That was it, that was all she said.  She told me to go into the next room and wait for an examination.  Each room seemed to be deeper and deeper within the building.  All I wanted to do was to die or to escape from there.  Then my name was called.  I went into an examination room.  I had never even been to a GYN, and for the first time in total fear and humiliation I was internally and externally examined.  This in itself was very painful due to my tense condition.  I told the nurse not to leave.  There I was with a male stranger with his fingers and hands on me and in me.  I was terrified.  I was sent back out to a room.  It was a open room with a large sectional Sofa filled with women and girls.  There were two adjoining rooms.  While seated on the sofa a door opened and I could see into the operating room.  It had another door on the far side, and the women went in one door and then out the other.  The room was small.  The table was in the center.  There were RN's, doctor, and also the men who carried the unconscious women to the recovery room.  They called the next name and the door was closed.  Then while waiting there a lady came and told me I had RH neg.  blood, that it would be imperative that I receive an injection, that if any future children might have a different blood type my body would not fight them off.  Future children, future children! My heart sank.  All my life my desire was toe a wife and mother.  Now my future children were in question.  The door opened, my name again was called.  How I had grown to hate the sound of that name.  How I hated myself.  I wanted it all to stop, everything happened so fast.  The nurses and doctor were all behind masks.  Only there eyes showed.  They told me to lie down on the table.  Feet in the stirrups, scoot down, scoot Down.  ''Oh God'' my heart screamed, I was so embarrassed.  I was naked and bare before all these strangers, and they were numb to my feelings.  Their soft voices spoke instructions to me.  Breath deep, just relax.  I was going under, and I wanted it to stop.  I screamed "NO STOP" "STOP", but with the gas mask on, my mouth could not speak.  Then I was under.  I remember the prick of a knife inside me, it hurt.  My arm ached from the drugs pumped into me.  The vacuum gurgled and that was all, I had lost the fight, I was .  then unconscious.  As I came to, a gruff voice said "It was your choice, you wanted to do it".  A nurse spoke, so mean and cold she sounded.  I was numb.  I was in the recovery room on one of the many couch like beds.  Then I was given a shot in my fanny that seemed to keep Going, and everyone else was looking at me.  They were all more awake than I was.  The nurse spread my legs , and put a fresh pad on me.  I just closed my eyes and pretended to disappear.  After I slept a long time, the people who took me there came back for me.  I was bleeding quite heavily, and we had to stop on the way home I was bleeding quite heavily, and we had to stop on the way home to buy more pads.  They told my mom that I started my period and I did not feel well.  I bled a lot that night.  I was so very frightened, and I had no one to turn to for help.  I was left in shock, for eight years.  I was never able to grieve the loss of my child, and so I carried an imaginary suckling child on my hip for eight years.  Shortly after I carried I had to have major female surgery.  I had a tumor on my ovary.  I lost an ovary.  I had been married for six years, and we are still longing for our first child.  It has been many years now that I have been able to face this terrible ordeal.  Please note the need for counsel.  If my child was alive today it would be so great to know that its adoptive family was being blessed by his existence.  But as it happened the life of my child was extinguished.  I have asked Gods forgiveness, and without that I would not be able to bear the pain of my loss.  Thank you for sharing my story.  Please make available the instruction and assistance to the desperate women in this position.  It is far to easy to kill the unborn.  And the everlasting effects are not being presented.  I know that many, many victims of abortion still live today.  They are the women who will suffer the consequence of this radical act.  If only I would have been told that pre-marital sex was wrong, I would have had the strength to stand against the peer pressure. If only adoption would of been offered or a safe house. The clinic was more interested in the federal income of the abortion act itself. That was the goal. Stop the population of the human trash.


Monday, October 26, 2009

Holloween and full moons, the early years. re post

Originally posted in 2007
This is an attempt to overcome fear of rejection and to overcome fear of exposing the truth!

I have offended many over the years by telling them what holloween and full moons were like for me as a kid. Who am I, is my big question. One who lets darkness win through silence, or one who overcomes darkness by exposing it to the light. I am the latter!

Some of my earliest memories of the ceremony and worship of the dark side that I experienced here follows.
One of the hardest involved being up in the canyon at the lodge where they gathered. Very late into the night of the moons shining upon them they would begin. After the normal families left and the "die hards" lit the bonfire and continued to binge on the feasts and drink the hard booze it would commence. There was a man who was the leader. He would "all gather, lets get this thing on the road" and cheers would sound up as the wild tones would echo. I and other kids, children of the others there were in a cabin like building. The big kids would then get the little kid that was chosen by the adults. That night it was me.

Folks say that Oct.31 is just an innocent night I stand to differ!

In a cloth bag the big kids (those I now feel most sorry for), placed me. Like well humored or ill humored bullies I was spun around and dizzy. I was laughing innocently ,yet then fear and anger; they would not let me out. The bag was getting dusty for it was drug through the camp. I began to hurt and the air in the bag was stuffy. It stopped That man he was the big man who was the talker and leader of it. He opened it up and every one cheered! he smiled at me. "Let me get you out of there..." smiling at me I felt safe from the bullies. He lifted me up high on the stone table. Everyone cheered and laughed. I was so tired and after a drink, I laid down. He had a bunny. I liked the bunny a lot. He was my friend and he was so soft he was scared. I got very sleepy from the drink. They were all around the table looking at me. Then the big boys were told they had a privilege and a responsibility they felt proud,and stood there. The cup was gold and it was above my face. The bunny screaming and then silent. I went away with him and watched from the forest with the Forest Angel. She was nice and the bunny was in a different body cause the other one was being drained into the cup. I was in a shadow body cause my other one was still on the table.
They took her clothes off she was pretty and tiny. The bunny gave her a drink from the cup and everyone had a sip too. I did not like it. The songs were there yukky songs and looking at the moon. I stayed with Forest Angel, she was nice.
The body on the table had brown hair that was bad she had to be made white. The big boys made her white on both sides and it hurt her, they raped me, a lot.
The man said they did well to whiten me. The girls (my) mom was over at the fire she had food dripping at her mouth and her husband was drunk, bad drunk, over at the fire. They were praised for their offering. The little girl bled. I was hurt bad. Then they wrapped me in the blanket and the Forest Angel let go of my hand and I was her again.
I could not get clean enough. It burnt the hot water just would not take it all away off of me and out of me and I just died there, inside, no more to be.
The next day I then began again. A new girl who nobody could know . I just hid behind my eyes. I was only a little girl.
That is what it means to me.

I hate holloween!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had been chosen weeks before and they worked on my parents to allow it to happen to me.
I was in recovery for three years when I was ready to commit suicide thinking I must be crazy to remember such things when my sister 18 years elder came forward and apologized for not coming forward sooner. I had given her the courage to do so.
I am 17 years out now and I still have to be removed to tell you of the deeds done in darkness.
It is not an innocent night!!!!!!!!!!!!
Somewhere a family is being set up, a child is being primed. Children are scared for life when used as the offenders. This is done to keep witnesses silent!!!

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Self Commpassion Scale

Are you disapproving and judgmental about your own flaws and inadequacies?

When you are feeling down do you tend to obsess and fixate on everything that is wrong?

When things are going badly for you, do you see the difficulties as part of life that everyone goes through?

When You think about your inadequacies,does it tend to make you feel more separate and cut off from the rest of the world?

Do you try to be loving toward yourself when your feeling emotional pain.?

Here are the first five questions I will leave to to ponder...

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

self commpassion

Having compassion for oneself is really no different than having compassion for others.  Think about what the experience of compassion feels like.  First, to have compassion for others you must notice that they are suffering.  If you ignore that homeless person on the street, you can’t feel compassion for how difficult his or her experience is.  Second, compassion involves feeling moved by others' suffering so that your heart responds to their pain (the word compassion literally means to “suffer with”).  When this occurs, you feel warmth, caring, and the desire to help the suffering person in some way.  Having compassion also means that you offer understanding and kindness to others when they fail or make mistakes, rather than judging them harshly.  Finally, when you feel compassion for another (rather than mere pity), it means that you realize that suffering, failure, and imperfection is part of the shared human experience.  “There but for fortune go I.”                                                          Self-compassion involves acting the same way towards yourself when you are having a difficult time, fail, or notice something you don’t like about yourself. Instead of just ignoring your pain with a “stiff upper lip” mentality, you stop to tell yourself “this is really difficult right now,” how can I comfort and care for myself in this moment? Instead of mercilessly judging and criticizing yourself for various inadequacies or shortcomings, self-compassion means you are kind and understanding when confronted with personal failings – after all, who ever said you were supposed to be perfect? You may try to change in ways that allow you to be more healthy and happy, but this is done because you care about yourself, not because you are worthless or unacceptable as you are. Perhaps most importantly, having compassion for yourself means that you honor and accept your humanness.  Things will not always go the way you want them to.  You will encounter frustrations, losses will occur, you will make mistakes, bump up against your limitations, fall short of your ideals.  This is the human condition, a reality shared by all of us. The more you open your heart to this reality instead of constantly fighting against it, the more you will be able to feel compassion for yourself and all your fellow humans in the experience of life.

Read more of the information presented above  

Songs of my heart