YOU CAN FLY WITH BROKEN WINGS

"YOU CAN FLY WITH BROKEN WINGS" IS CHANGING ADDRESS

2011-01-22T15:52:00.000Z

I have just legally changed my name to Fi MacLeod.

Now I am legally Fi MacLeod I am changing the web address for “You Can Fly With Broken Wings”.

I am doing so because this blog was established using my old name and the URL for the blog contains my old name.

As I’m no longer using that name I wanted to maintain the blog but not be reminded of my old name all the time. So I’ve established a new look “You Can Fly With Broken Wings” blog under my new name at a fresh URL address.

I’m both pleased and proud to announce that “You Can Fly With Broken Wings” is moving to:-

http://fiyoucanflywithbrokenwings.blogspot.com

Please note - I have exported all the articles and comments from this site address into the new blog.

The content and purpose for the blog remain the same. All that is different is the URL for it.

In one sense I feel sad to be leaving this blog because it was where I began to go public with my life’s history and my quest for healing. Establishing this blog was a huge step. I’ve taken many risks as I’ve shared here. There’ve been many times I’ve felt very vulnerable when I’ve hit ‘publish’ but then read amazing comments and realised it is ok and safe to share. This site has been a very safe place for me to begin exploring sharing my life history, my hurt, struggles and confusion. I began to explore here the reality of the abuse that so marred the first 20 years of my life. I also began to explore the trauma that has, at best, overshadowed my entire life, and at worst robbed me of the opportunity to have the kind of life most people take for granted. I began to tell the truth of what really happened to me. So for those reasons I feel very attached to this site.

At the same time I’m excited because it doesn’t end here. “You Can Fly With Broken Wings” continues with a new design and a fresh new look, at a new URL. It’s a new start. New starts always have a combination of sadness and excitement.

I will keep this version of the blog at this URL for a few months but plan to delete it later in the year.

This will be the FINAL post on this version of “You Can Fly With Broken Wings”.

All further posts will appear on the brand new “You Can Fly With Broken Wings” blog at http://fiyoucanflywithbrokenwings.blogspot.com.

So if you want to continue following my journey please find me at the new URL.

I hope you’ll continue to follow and comment as my journey progresses on the all new “You Can Fly With Broken Wings” blog.

My journey continues ... I invite you to join me in this new beginning. I look forward to seeing you there!!

HEALTH ISSUES

2011-01-15T09:12:00.000Z

Last Thursday I was diagnosed with diabetes.

The diagnosis has been creeping up on me.

Several years ago I was diagnosed with Impaired Fasting Glycaemia and I’ve had regular tests keeping an eye on that. Over time the test results have gradually gotten worse and worse, and particularly during the last few months. Both my ex-parents have diabetes so my risks factors for the illness were much higher because of that. The sustained stress of the last few months has caused my blood sugars to fluctuate wildly so there was a certain inevitability of the diagnosis eventually coming. I hoped I’d keep dodging the bullet but things have caught up with me.

For the average person a diagnosis of diabetes means making changes to one’s diet to make it more healthy and adding in some exercise to help bring the diabetes under control. But for me that is complicated by several factors.

Firstly I have ME/CFS which has severely restricted my life for the last 9 years. I used to walk miles before that diagnosis, now I hardly walk at all because my energy levels and stamina are very poor. It also means I do not have energy to prepare and cook meals. Before I had the illness loved to cook tasty meals but instead I’ve had to increasingly rely on stuff I can just put in the oven and microwave. That makes healthy eating a big challenge to begin with!

Secondly I have 2 eating disorders which add to the challenges of healthy eating. The eating disorders have no doubt contributed to the diabetes and make bringing the diabetes under control a massive problem. The eating disorders are deeply enmeshed not only in issues related to the abuse I survived but also in how food was used to abuse, manipulate and control me. Throughout my life I’ve had a very poor relationship with food. I never grew up with regular healthy meals. That concept has been a very difficult one for me to grasp throughout my life.

When my Doctor said to me that with the diagnosis came the need to lose weight I told her losing weight is fraught with huge issues for me. For a start I’ve always been fat. I’ve always been overweight. I was a fat baby, a fat toddler, a fat child and a fat adult. That is how I’ve always been. There are many factors involved in that.

Over the years health professionals have tried to get me to lose weight and put me on various diets but every time I’ve ended up worse that I was before I went on the diet because it is not a simple issue of losing weight. There are many factors involved. Each time I ended up feeling like a total failure. I do not know how you reverse an entire lifetime of being fat and overweight. Oh I’d love to be nice and slim, but life’s never been like that for me. I have huge issues about my body, weight being just one of them.

To be honest I have so many other things going on at the moment that the last thing I need to happen is to be guilt tripped or to feel like a failure or feel bad about myself because I cannot conform to regimes to control my weight, diet and diabetes.

I’m just beginning therapy to begin to deal with the abuse and the issues surrounding it. I know I have several years of therapy ahead of me. I know my issues with food are deeply enmeshed in the abuse and are not going to be solved overnight or quickly.

I know my poor physical and mental health has its roots in the abuse and trauma – asthma, high blood pressure, ME/CFS, long term chronic depression, anxiety disorder, PTSD, DID, BPD – these are all stress/trauma related. Diabetes also has factors related to stress as well as genetics and diet.

I’m under no doubt that the sustained stress of my life and the events of the last few months have contributed to the fact I now have diabetes.

I know solving any of the issues that caused these illnesses in the first place is going to be long and complex.

It is not going to be easy or straightforward. The diabetes cannot be treated in isolation to all the other factors in my life. The only way any of the health related issues – physical or mental - can be successfully treated is by treating me as a whole person – not just a diabetic – not just someone with PTSD/BPD/DID – not just someone with high blood pressure – not just someone with long term chronic depression. But a human being who’s been severely traumatised by life events and who has several physical and mental health problems because of that trauma.

When the Doctor spoke about the importance of a healthy diet and losing weight she used language about having a healthy future. I had to stop her at that point because she was not in touch with where I’m at or what I’ve gone through. I’m still trying to figure out whether I have a life worth living. I’m still trying to figure out whether I have a future at all. My entire life until the last few months has been about staying alive for the sake of staying alive. It’s been about surviving for the sake of surviving. It’s not been about living.

The whole point of me speaking out and beginning therapy is to change all that, but that is going to take time.

I know that with diabetes the sooner diet etc are sorted out the better the long term prospects are. But for me it is not that simple.

I have so many issues going on. I have so many other things to sort out first before diet/healthy eating and so on can be addressed. I know that as issues related to the abuse and to how food was used in that abuse are faced and worked through it MAY be possible to resolve the deep seated long term eating disorders I have. Work like that is not quick or easy or guaranteed.

I don’t know how the diabetes is going to be brought under control in these circumstances. I’m still reeling from the diagnosis and its implications for my life. I do not know how a way forward can be found; just that one must be somehow. The solutions are not simple and simplistic ways of trying to address the issues will not resolve the problems or create a way through.

The way ahead is not easy but then life has never been easy for me, anything but. To be honest this diagnosis was the last thing I needed at this point in my life. It’s come at the worst possible time. And that’s where I’m at.

CHANGING NAMES

2011-01-13T23:28:00.000Z

On Wednesday I applied to have my name changed by deed poll. It’s going to take time for the paperwork and everything else in my life to catch up with that. But I have begun the process to change from my current name to my new name.

The day I’d set aside to begin the process and apply for the Deed Poll was a very hard day which I had to take gently and in stages as I felt the enormity of what I'm doing in changing my name.

I began feeling totally overwhelmed at what I was going to do. I felt the hurt and pain of the total rejection of my family which I'm formalising by rejecting the name they gave me and starting over. Then I was able to think more clearly about it and think about the pro's and con's.

Eventually I was able to see it for the positive thing it is.

But what a process I went through to get there!!

It was really strange at Christmas travelling as "Helen Nicholson" because “Helen” is my first name and what's on my passport. I do not relate to that person at all. I don't know who she is. I am no longer her. She kept the family secrets and the family code as did “Fiona Nicholson”, the name I was always known by. I guess that’s why I no longer relate to either of those names and need to change to an entirely new name. I realised yesterday that was an untenable situation and I couldn't face travelling as "Helen Nicholson" again. For me that’s as good a reason as any to change my name.

The hurt and pain of knowing your family, your own parents and brother never accepted you, never loved you, dumped you and left you for dead is hard. The hurt and pain of knowing your family, your own parents and brother will never love you, acknowledge you and accept you is very hard. There are no words for how that feels!

By changing my name I’m acknowledging that fact and formalising that estrangement/divorce.

I hope to have the Deed Poll within about a week, but I will need to get it signed, witnessed and then sent back for them to lodge an electronic version of it and send me all the legal copies I requested. I'm hoping by the end of January to have the paperwork sorted. Once I have the Deed Poll all legal I'll be changing Facebook accounts and email addresses as well as moving my “You Can Fly With Broken Wings” blog to a new URL under my new name. I already have new business cards printed.

In changing my name not only am I cutting my final tie with that toxic abusive family – the name they gave me – but I’m also saying “this is me, this is who I am”. I am no longer the person they made me to be or told me I was. I don’t even identify with that person.

I am sticking close to my roots by my choice of surname because the name I’ve chosen is part of my Scottish ancestry. My choice of first name retains the name I’ve been known by throughout my adult life but shortens it to a version that doesn’t have any links back to abuse or trigger any bad stuff for me.

Identity is still a big issue with me as it is for anyone with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

BUT choosing a new name for myself is the beginning of establishing my real identity. It is the beginning of starting to define who I consider ‘ME’ to be. It is the beginning of getting to know who I really am under all the layers of hurt, trauma, false guilt, beyond the foggy confusion that the lies of my abusers created within me.

I am ME, whoever ‘ME’ is and I like ‘ME’ too, even if I can’t always figure out who or what ‘ME’ is!!!

There is so much to changing my name and so many reasons why I'm doing it. The transition is difficult but I'll be much happier once I've made that transition.

THE CPS LETTER

2011-01-12T22:20:00.000Z

I finally got to read the letter from the Crown Prosecution Service on Monday. As my worker passed it to me I commented that it feels like I’ve lived through several lifetimes since that letter dropped on to my doormat at the end of September last year.

Opening it was a surreal feeling.

I knew that it was going to hard to read. I knew I was going to experience very powerful emotions. I knew it was going to hurt. I also knew it was something I had to do. If I’d never opened that letter I’d have spent the rest of my life wondering what was in it, what would it have been like if I had opened it? To be honest my life is full of ‘what if’s’ and ‘if only’s’, I don’t need any more!!

I’m not short of courage but taking possession of that letter and opening it was the hardest thing I’ve done for a while. Seeing it in black and white was always going to formalise the uncomfortable and unbelievable truth – the CPS had failed in their duty to bring my abusers to justice and no amount of explanation was going to help or change that.

Yes the CPS letter was very hard reading and triggered a load of stuff.

They're basically saying that because I could not remember every single tiny little detail of every single little thing that happened 20-35 years ago the evidence was unreliable and considered inadmissible in court. There are other things in it too BUT that's the main thrust of it.

That just makes me so angry, it is just so unrealistic.

I feel like yelling at the top of my voice "just because I can't remember every tiny little detail does not mean it did not happen"... “Just because I can’t remember every tiny detail does not mean it has not affected my life because it has devastated it... “Just because I can’t remember every tiny detail does not mean this decision has not affected me because it has – it has totally shattered me.”

My worker gave me a crash course in how the judicial system works and said the CPS always struggle with cases like these because they aren't neat and tidy and don't tick their boxes and that is why so few historic abuse cases ever make it to court. She said she's witnessed police officers have show downs with the CPS over decisions and crumple at the way in which they treat cases like mine. She said to me "if police officers can feel betrayed by CPS decisions then you're entitled to feel that way too". It is cold, it is clinical and it is unrealistic. She also said "when cases like yours are treated like this it does leave everyone involved feeling what is the point?" My worker said “it's not just you feeling betrayed and let down” which was comforting to know and validated how I'm feeling.

So yeah it's been a really difficult time reading that. It triggered all the stuff about not being believed, minimising things, not feeling validated or my experience being recognised. It triggered all the “it’s not fair” and “it’s all wrong” stuff.

The biggest thing it did was to formalise that “there’s no justice” situation. That is eating away at my insides. Maybe it’s something that only time can help with.

2010 A LOOK BACK [AND A GLANCE FORWARD]

2011-01-01T00:37:00.001Z

2010 has been a momentous year for me. It’s also been one of the most difficult and most painful years I’ve lived through.

The twists and turns the year took. The injustice heaped on injustice. The risks I took. I never could have foreseen what was ahead. I would never have believed it if someone had told me what I’d do during 2010. I’d never have believed it if someone had told me what would result from telling. I would never have believed I’d ever tell. I would have said “no way”. I’d never have believed I’d find the courage to go to the police and report my abusers. I would never have expected to be believed. But somehow I found the guts to pick up that phone and say “I was abused and tortured by my family over a 20 year-period until Jan 1986”.

I did not expect the non-accountable British Judicial system to protect my abusers and refuse to charge them with any crime whatsoever. I did not expect the cover up that then ensued. I did not expect I’d have to make a formal complaint about the way my case was handled. I did not expect I’d have to make a formal complaint about a certain police officer’s attitude and way of speaking to me. I did not expect to be driven to the point of suicide 3 times because of bungled phone calls from the police. I did not expect to give the police leads for them to not follow them and miss vital evidence and witnesses as a result.

I did not expect any of these things the day I found the courage to pick up that phone.

I expected once I’d reported my abusers they’d be exposed and brought to account in some way. Instead they weren’t exposed and they got away with it scot free because of their defiance, lies and denials. Oh and yes, they can get on with their lives now as if nothing happened while mine was ripped apart by the sheer injustice of it all. The British Judicial system is a total heap of crap which cares more about the criminals than it does about the welfare of the victims of crime.

But the strangest thing of all is how picking up the phone and reporting my abusers opened the door to professional help and therapy. I’ve been banging hard on that door for many years and getting nowhere but through going to the police suddenly the door swings open before me. And I’m left standing in front of the door shaking my head at the bizarreness of that.

I did not expect to reach 2011 and find that over 9000 people have visited my blog “You Can Fly With Broken Wings”. I did not expect to reach 2011 and to have my entire Autobiography online in its own dedicated blog. Nor did I expect to reach 2011 with my entire Anthology of Poetry online in its own blog too. But that is what has happened. Blogging the truth of my life is the most healing thing I have done in 2010.

I did not expect to find a community of real genuine caring survivors on the internet and Facebook but I have. Wow what a difference they’ve made to my life. That is the second most healing thing I’ve done in 2010.

As I type I hear fireworks going off. I hear “Auld Lang Syne” from the pub across the road. I realise the year is turning. As I realise that my thoughts turn forwards and I find myself looking ahead rather than backwards.

I never liked New Year’s Eve. I never liked the changing of the year. “Auld Lang Syne” always makes me cry for reasons I dunno... I’ll probably never know why it does except that it does. I never liked the “Happy New Year” wishes that pass around. “Happy New Year” always sounded empty and felt hollow to me. Why? Because... well because it’s just another year to survive somehow. It’s another year to do whatever it takes just to get through. It’s another year of living with the horror of my past. It’s another year of staying alive just for the sake of staying alive. It’s another year of hurt, pain and aloneness. It’s another year which will be full of painful reminders of what was, what hasn’t been and what can never be because of the abuse.

I always try to hope somewhere inside that this year will be better than the one that just preceded it but being honest I never really can believe it will.

How do you get past all that horror and actually get to have a life? How do you get past all the destruction and dysfunction? Is there a way?

I dunno but I guess there is because I’m getting to know some people who have made it through and out the other side.

I don’t expect any answers because I know there aren’t any easy answers. I don’t expect an easy ride because life’s never been like that. I hope I’ll be able to look back in a year’s time and not look back on a year spent going round in never ending circles but will see some progress and some healing.

Maybe I’ll be able to see some reason to hope. Maybe I’ll finally see some light at the end of the tunnel - light which is real light and not just an express train coming right at me. Maybe as I continue to speak the truth and refuse to be silenced in any way shape or form, hope will take root, the lightness will brightness and the darkness lessen so the shadows won’t tease me so bad.

One thing is for sure... now I’ve found my voice I aint gonna be silenced by anyone. I know it don’t look too pretty at times. I know it don’t sound too pretty at times either. My life is frankly an awful mess and cleaning up messes isn’t pretty work. BUT it’s worthwhile work if I can stop being followed around by the stinking corpses and the rattling ghosts of my past and find some peace, real peace deep inside.

I already feel less fragmented just from speaking the truth and keeping on speaking the truth. That offshoot of telling really surprises me! I’ve really begun to relate to the little frightened insecure child inside of me and she’s slowly begun to trust me. Now that’s incredible.

Somewhere inside me there is the belief that things can only get better from here on. It might be the tiniest speck of hope, but it’s there and it’s tangible.

So here’s to a year of speaking more truth and refusing to be sidetracked or silenced by those who made be made uncomfortable by the truth that is my life and my life’s history. Here’s to believing there is a way through all of this stuff. Here’s to believing things can only get better now. Here’s to believing healing is possible. Here’s to believing recovering is possibly. Here’s to believing I will get my life back. I will reach that point where I can nod my head, smile and say “YES only part of my life was destroyed by what they did, not all of it”

So yeah, “I’ll drink a cup of kindness yet for the sake of Auld Lang Syne” for I’ve been shown much kindness in 2010 when I stop and think about it. I’ve been able to reach out and show much kindness too. Kindness came into my life in 2010 in a way I could not have foreseen. Oh and kindness brought light and hope along for the ride too. Yes I have hope as I begin 2011. I have hope for a future I never believed was possible. I have hope for a life ahead not just a mere existence.

So I thank 2010 for the lessons I learned and the courage I found during that year... and I begin 2011 with hope I never had and never believed I’d ever have.

CHRISTMAS PAST

2010-12-19T16:19:00.000Z

Jumbled memories of Christmas as a child fill my mind... nativity plays... carol services... snow... mince pies... turkey... colourful lights in people’s windows... lit up trees... carolling door to door... church services... a time of year full of expectations, fear, confusion and inevitable solitude.

I remember how we’d practice for weeks for the carols by candlelight and sit in the choir at church, I’d get the descant parts and be terrified of making a mistake and not hitting the right note... my parents always noticed - there was always something - and I got my punishment back home afterwards.

Christmas followed the same pattern year after year – I’d wake up Christmas morning to see a pillow case of presents just inside the bedroom door... I had to open those presents alone in my room trying not to make any noise with the wrapping, otherwise I’d be screamed at to be quiet and find a fist making contact with my face or body... to be honest how can you open presents without making some noise? As quiet as I could I opened the presents... I never found anything I liked or wanted or suggested I might like... it was always things that didn’t fit me... or books that weren’t about anything I was interested in... there were never toys or dolls or teddy bears... those things didn’t exist in our house... there’d be sweets and chocolates... but I wasn’t free to eat them... my parents would come into the room, take them from me and say I could only have one if I was good... so what was the point of giving me them?

The clothes I was to wear that day were always in the presents... didn’t matter if I didn’t like it or it didn’t fit right, I had to wear it. There was no sharing the opening of the presents.

Christmas morning was deathly quiet in our house... I kept as quiet as I could, I didn’t want to invite a beating on Christmas Day... once up I made a show of saying thank you for my clothes and how wonderful it was to wear them, even if I thought they were crap and horrible I didn’t dare say so... it was all part of the Christmas Day routine... all the play acting, lying and hypocrisy... you never heard “Happy Christmas” uttered in our house.

Breakfast was always a boiled egg... I always choked on it because I hate boiled eggs... and that caused trouble and arguments. During breakfast my parents produced presents from our grandparents, godparents and a couple other aunts/uncles who I never knew who they were. I had to make a really big show of opening those presents and show maximum pleasure in the gift. Once the presents were opened I’d be sternly warned to write thank you letters between church and lunch, I was told what I was allowed and not allowed to write about. If I didn’t remember all those rules about writing the letters there’d be trouble.

After breakfast we’d head off to church wearing our “happy Christian family” disguise... a big pretence of being a happy family enjoying Christmas together played out to utter perfection. In church I’d look around and wonder if anyone else was having as miserable time as I was but everyone was full of smiles. I was wished a “Happy Christmas” by so many people but didn’t know how to respond back. We’d sing carols then always stayed for communion afterwards. “Christmas communion” was the whole point of being at church.

Christmas without “Christmas Communion” was unthinkable.

Communion was also the time I had to walk up to the altar and back in those horrible new clothes which didn’t fit and looked horrible... I felt so ashamed but had to wear a big smile on my face because I knew what would happen if I didn’t!

I so wished people could see beneath that smile and spot how unhappy I really was.

After church we’d come home, each to our own rooms while dinner was cooking, to sit and write thank you letters, in perfect writing, with appropriate politeness, according to the rules I was warned of and always dated with Boxing Day’s date. The letters had to be done by the time the call for lunch came. After I was aged 11 we never saw any relatives again so at least I didn’t have to write any Christmas thank you letters after that. After church I’d be sent to my room and just sit there quietly, waiting to move the instant I heard the call, knowing anything less than instant obedience, the tiniest delay could lead to being yelled at, or I’d find myself being thrown down the stairs or sent flying across the room or even being told I didn’t deserve any lunch and being forced out of the house.

Lunch was a dour affair. No one spoke apart from my mother who gave us all her opinion on every aspect the church service. She picked apart everything that happened at church, leaving me wondering why she bothered going as she seemed to enjoy tearing it apart, just like she did every Sunday, I could not get why she went if she thought everything at church was so bad.

Lunch was timed to end just in time for “The Queen’s Speech” on TV. We had to stand for the National Anthem then sit quietly and without fidgeting through the speech. If I fidgeted I got hit. “The Queen’s speech” over I’d be told to get out the house, or kicked out, or physically removed from the house... whichever... because “I did not deserve to spend the rest of the day with the family”. Sometimes it would be accompanied with being screamed at because I hadn’t smiled enough on the walk to and from the altar in church, or I’d made a mistake in one of my letters, or my writing wasn’t smart enough... and so on... they didn’t always need a reason... “I did not deserve to stay in the house because they said so.” I never knew why but it was always the same.

So the rest of Christmas day was spent wandering the streets... killing time... keeping warm... I wandered the streets looking in on other people’s Christmasses... looking in on scenes of laughter, fun, people being together... smiles and laughter in other people’s houses.

What was it that was so bad about me that I was banished... wasn’t wanted... didn’t fit? Why did I have to have such an awful family?

I had to keep moving trying to keep warm. But at least I was safe on the streets, no one hit me on the streets, no one kicked me on the streets, no one beat me on the streets, no one cursed me on the streets.

Later that night I might be allowed back in the house. But often they’d ignore me ringing the doorbell. I had no key so had to ring the bell to get in. Many Christmas night-times were spent out shivering in a shop doorway or somewhere else I’d find for shelter. Many a Boxing Day was spent wandering the streets too depending on whatever mood would take my parents.

So Christmas as a child was just another day. Another day of fear... violence... pretence... lies... aloneness... exclusion... surviving... looking in on other people’s Christmasses feeling so alone.

Moving on from childhood Christmas has been a mixed bag... and not a very nice mixed bag.

Not having family of any shape or form makes Christmas very difficult. For me Christmas has always been a difficult time!

Year after year I tried various things... working... studying... helping on homeless projects... asking friends to be part of my Christmas, but they have families I cannot be part of and who naturally take 1st priority in their lives... there was no getting away from that aloneness no matter what I did. A constant reminder of what I didn’t have, had never had and never will have.

For a few years I lived with friends and I was part of their Christmas which was great... another year I went to stay with friends in Wales... they wanted me there but one member of their family took exception to me being there and said - “What’s she doing here? She’s not family”- she made sure I knew exactly what contempt she felt for me ‘gate crashing’ her family Christmas. She made life very uncomfortable indeed and my friends were mortified by her behaviour... it finished things for me... after that I felt I could not look to friends again and had to find another way of doing Christmas.

Then I came across a company called Travelsphere... they do coach tours over Christmas to Europe and they aren’t too expensive either... so I travel with them to the Alps... this will be the fifth Christmas I will have travelled with them.

I struggle to find the money but now I can look forward to Christmas and plan for it, instead of dread it and hope I’ll find a home this year.

Yep it still hurts, sure it does. I’m always reminded of why it is I go away at Christmas but I have a real sense of belonging on the coach trips. Christmas Eve and Boxing Day I tend to do my own thing and then in the evenings we all eat together. Christmas Day we go on a tour together like a family and we eat together in the evening, blow balloons up and have loads of great fun!!!

So many people say “oh please take me with you, I am so jealous, I so wish I could do that” ... little realising I struggle to not be jealous of their family Christmas... it’s a funny ole life sometimes!!

WHEN I LOOK AT MY LIFE

2010-12-15T22:45:00.000Z

When I look at my life I get angry when I see the powerlessness and hopelessness I lived in all these years. I really thought there was nothing I could do about the horror that was my life because I believed the lies of my abusers that I deserved it all and deserved nothing else.

When I look at my life I get angry at the damage and dysfunction I see. Damage and dysfunction I didn’t cause but I have to work extremely hard at to repair. And that gets me really angry. It’s all so unfair.

When I look at my life and wonder about what might have been had I had a different childhood I get angry.

When I look at my life and see the fear I’ve lived under. The fear of not being believed if I ever told, the fear of what would happen if I ever told. How all my life I’ve been afraid of everyone and everything; afraid of myself; afraid of the anger and hurt inside. That fear has so paralysed me and that gets me angry.

When I look at my life now I realise I’ve spoken out, been believed and nothing bad has happened to me as a result. I’ve not got justice and that gets me angry. My abusers have not been exposed and that gets me angry.

When I look at my life now I realise I now have support and I’m so thankful for the professional women who are part of my life now. That gives me hope.

When I look at my life now I realise I have the power and support to change things. That gives me hope.

When I look at my life now I realise I’m beginning to see the lies for what they are and am beginning to slowly replace them with truth. That gives me hope.

So when I look at my life now I have hope that I’ll navigate a way all the anger, hurt, disappointment, lies, powerlessness and fear.

So when I look at my life now I have hope. That’s very precious after all these years of hopelessness and powerlessness.

YOU DESERVE TO RECOVER

2010-12-10T21:15:00.000Z

Someone planted a seed in my mind yesterday - a concept that blew me away.

I was at a meeting to discuss the next step in my healing and the role of group therapy which will come 2-4 years in the future after I’ve done extensive individual therapy. The meeting was drawing to a close when she said "I wish you well in your healing and recovery, you deserve to heal, you deserve to recover".

I remember sitting there staring at her open mouthed and speechless. I heard myself stutter “what do you mean?” She repeated the statement. I continued to sit and stare at her thinking “she doesn’t know me, she doesn’t know how bad I am, I’m used goods, I don’t deserve nothing.” She leaned forward and looked me straight in the eyes and said “you didn’t deserve any of that, you deserve to have a life, YOU deserve to fully recover”. She spoke with incredible gentleness as I stared at her in total confusion not knowing how to respond.

What a concept - I deserve to heal? I deserve to recover? Whoa that's one huge concept to take on board!!

I’d never have thought of it that way.

For me healing is about taking my life back. Healing is about finding a way through and out the other side of the damage and dysfunction in my life. Healing is about starting over. Healing is about stopping merely existing, merely staying alive for the sake of it and actually starting to live somehow. Healing became a necessity. Healing had to happen because the pain was destroying me. I just had to begin the work to heal. I had no choice. It had to happen. But now I have another perspective on it – and it used the word “deserve”.

The word ‘deserve’ is such a loaded word for me. From a tiny age I was told I deserved everything done to me because I was a girl... because I was so bad... because they said so, because... well just because. So to turn the word ‘deserve’ into a more positive word is a really big thing to do.

I always believed I deserved it all. I always believed I deserved no better. I believed I wasn’t worth any better. I believed I got the life I deserved. It was natural for me to never consider myself deserving or worthy of anything but a shattered life.

But actually the truth is I DID NOT deserve any of that abuse. NONE OF IT! The abuse was NEVER about me. It was about MY ABUSERS, THEIR decisions, THEIR attitudes and THEIR choices.

Now I’m beginning to realise all that I’m starting to place the blame where it actually lies – with my abusers NOT me, NEVER me – there is a change happening inside. I’m beginning to see the lies and collusion. I’m beginning to see my childhood with new eyes.

Now I have a huge challenge. That challenge is to believe, to truly believe, deep inside that I really do deserve to heal; to recover; to get my life back; to live a life beyond depression, trauma, dysfunction, shame and hurt.

I can’t grasp it yet but at least it’s focused my mind on something positive!

THE POINT OF NO RETURN - MY INVESTMENT

2010-12-07T23:46:00.001Z

Journeying towards the point of no return for me began when I looked honestly at my life, the damage and the dysfunction and took stock. I realised I’d spent 20 years living in an utterly horrific family situation. Then I’d spent the next 24 years trying to live with the terrible things done to me and just surviving for the sake of it. But no matter what I did I could not get past the horror that was the first 20 years of my life.

The trauma followed me round like a ghost. Shadowy ghosts that refused to go away accompanied quite often with a stinking corpse all followed me around and stifled my movements, my voice and my hopes.

Fear stalked me, a constant companion, along with depressive episode after depressive episode. There seemed to be no hope and no escape, I could not seem to get past what had been done to me.

Towards the end of 2009 I realised I’d lost a shed load of my life to the abuse and if something didn’t give my entire life would be lost to the abuse. Something had to change but I didn’t know what to do, where to begin. I was at a loss to know how to change the situation I was in. I just knew I had to do something. I refused to be yet another life lost to abuse.

Over the years I’ve wondered many times how different my life could have been if I had had a different childhood. But I realised that wasn’t helping me either because then I’d just get angry and depressed at all that was stolen from me and the life I've not been able to have because of it. I’d go to a really dark place that was very hard to get out of.

As 2010 began I knew I was going to have to do something but didn’t know where to turn for help or what to do. Then the article in the Whitehaven News was published on 27th Jan inviting people who’d been sexually abused in childhood to speak to the police because the police really want to bring offenders to justice, even historical ones. The crucial thing was the article printed a phone number to call. I knew I had to follow it up. I knew that was what I needed. I knew that phone number was my way in but it took 6 long weeks for me to find the courage to call that number.

I had reached my point of no return. Life was never going to be the same after that.

After the stress and trauma of the past year I’ve reached a point where I'm not prepared to lose much more to the abuse. That is why I had to speak out. That is why I'm choosing to do whatever it takes to heal.

Actually I realised I really had no choice. When I was given the choice late in November to walk away from the help being offered or to take the risk and begin therapy and the long road to healing I realised that actually I had no choice.

In fact, if anything by choosing to make that phone call I’d made the decision to do whatever it took to get to a point where I’m no longer being followed around by a stinking corpse and shadowy ghosts of the past that refuse to go away.

That is where I’m at now. I see what I’m doing as an investment.

Every time I speak out I am depositing into that investment. Every time I write about my experiences I am depositing into that investment.

I know it’s going to take a long time to rewire my brain, my belief systems, to expose the lies and replace them with truth. I know it’s going to be tough – really tough – excruciating at times to expose the hurt and pain – but it really helps me to think of everything I do in order to do that as an investment.

One day, I don’t know when, but someday in the future somewhere I’ll begin to cash in that investment. But for now I’m just gonna keep on investing a little here and a little there, focusing on building up that nest egg which one day will be worth far more than I can possibly imagine.

I am making an investment for a future I cannot see now but believe is there the other side of all this stuff!

ANGER

2010-12-06T18:02:00.002Z

Anger is often seen as a taboo subject especially in Christian circles. We don’t talk about anger.

BUT I firmly believe that deep anger is a totally valid and appropriate response to child abuse and abuse of any kind. To be honest I cannot think of any other appropriate reaction to abuse but anger, disgust, revulsion etc.

As a little girl I was taught that good little girls don’t get angry or have any negative feelings. Good little girls just smile and pretend everything’s ok, come what may. I was not allowed any feelings as a child, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel anger, rage, hurt, disgust, confusion, revulsion about what was done to me. I sure did but had nowhere to go with those feelings.

An added complication is that as a Christian I’ve been taught anger was a ‘bad’ thing and it was ‘sinful’ to express anger. A good Christian woman is submissive. But hang on my bible tells me anger in itself is an emotion like any other. My understanding is that it’s misdirected anger that causes problems, not anger alone. My bible also tells me of the man Jesus who saved HIS strongest language for those who abused, manipulated and controlled people in the society HE lived in. HE was full of love and compassion for those in need, and towards those who came to HIM for help. But HE wasn’t backwards about coming forwards when it came to confronting those who tried to prevent people coming to HIM and those who made life unbearable for other people, especially the religious leaders at that time.

Guess what, I’ve got a lot of anger in me and this is the first time I’ve addressed this subject. So here’s my first attempt at expressing my anger.

~ I am very angry about what my abusers did to me
~ I am very angry at the damage done to my life
~ I am very angry that thanks to my abusers I’ve had no life up until now
~ I am very angry when I hear of other people’s experiences of abuse and domestic violence
~ I get very angry towards those who abuse, manipulate and control, whatever the context
~ I’m really angry at the way God and Christianity were misrepresented to me by my abusers and other Christians, including the issues of anger, grief, forgiveness, forgetting about it + putting it behind you as if it never happened etc – and about all the hurt, problems and confusion those misrepresentations [in some cases ‘brainwashing’] have caused me
~ I am angry about the false beliefs about the normality of the abuse that I was brainwashed with by my abusers
~ I am angry about the false beliefs about my lack of value and worth as a human being, as a female, and as a person that I was brainwashed with by my abusers
~ I am angry that I was not allowed to have or express my own feelings and opinions throughout all the years I was abused and about how hard it is for me even now to express my feelings, thoughts, opinions, ask questions etc
~ I am absolutely furious with the justice system in this country - a justice system that cares more about the perpetrators than their victims and isn't about bringing perpetrators to justice. A justice system which paid more attention and gave greater weight to the lies, defiance and denials of my abusers than it did to MY evidence, MY witness impact statements, and other witnesses is no justice system in my book.
~ I am very angry that the guilty walk free because they lied and I cannot prove they abused me "beyond all reasonable doubt" to Crown Prosecution Lawyers. The police were in no doubt, the professionals are in no doubt about the seriousness of what happened - my police file is thick with evidence - but smart ****** lawyers said "there is no evidence". I've been seriously let down by the UK justice system. And I am ************ furious about it. There are no words for the fury I feel and for how betrayed I feel by our so called justice system. It's no wonder people take the law into their own hands.
~ I am angry that my abusers’ threats kept me silent, afraid and isolated for nearly a quarter of a century
~ I’m angry about all I lost and the childhood I never had
~ I’m angry that I cannot have any kind of relationship, sexual or non sexual, because of the abuse
~ I’m angry about all my abusers robbed from me that I can never ever get back
~ I’m angry about the wrong choices of my abusers which have so screwed up my life
~ I’m angry that my abusers choose to continue to live their lives in lies, denials and delusion while my shattered life can only be lived in the truth of the horrors they subjected me to
~ I’m angry that my abusers created this mess but I’m the one who has to do the work to heal and clean it all up

Why did I write this blog today?

Well I got in touch with my anger today. I got in touch with it for two reasons.

Firstly I read over the weekend an absolutely phenomenal blog post on the “Emerging From Broken” blog site written by an abuse survivor lifting the lid on anger and exploring healthy anger.

You can read it at http://emergingfrombroken.com/memoirs-of-a-mad-survivor-by-patty-hite/.

I read the article several times before I commented on it. I didn’t know what I was going to type in response until I began typing. If I thought I was going to type a theoretical response I was in for a shock because instead of a nice tidy thought out response, anger spilled out of me through my fingers on to the screen in front of me and I saw my anger there in black and white before me.

The second reason is that Monday is therapy day. It is the day I have one hour with my therapist to work on the abuse. Today was my second session with her and although we both acknowledged that I skirted around the details and shrunk back from talking about the sexual abuse which I was remembering so vividly - I did get in touch with the confusion and hurt that little 3-year old girl felt.

As I did so I began to get angry, very angry! I felt angry for that little girl who was so let down and betrayed. I also felt immense anger talking about the devastating effect the abuse has had upon my life.

At this stage I’m not even tapping into the rage which resides deep within me. This is surface anger, surface rage. What I feel deep inside goes beyond words.

Anger is a totally different issue to forgiveness but too many people misrepresent forgiveness as being a magic thing which stops you being angry and solves all your problems. But that’s just total garbage. Forgiveness is many things but it doesn’t magically get rid of the anger and grief about what happened. Anger and bitterness also get mixed up too. And after all no one wants to be thought of as an 'angry bitch'. But all these emotions need to be acknowledged and processed.

Anger is what drives me for justice.

Anger at the devastation I see in my own life is what drives me in my quest to heal.

Anger at the lies that have kept me in prison all these years is what drives me to speak out the truth and keep speaking it out.

Anger is an essential part of being human, and gosh, I didn’t realise how angry I was before I began typing.

As I already said, I aint begun to connect with the deep rage inside BUT one day I will and well that’s going to be interesting!!

FOOTSTEPS

2010-12-04T20:21:00.002Z

WARNING - THIS MAY TRIGGER

Footsteps ... oh how I remember the sound of footsteps
I remember the terror in my heart
I remember the confusion in my mind
As I heard ... those footsteps heading to my room

Footsteps steadily coming up the stairs
Footsteps coming along the hallway
Stopping on the landing outside my bedroom door
My heart skips a beat and I think “please no”

I turn over in bed, close my eyes tight
I don’t want to see the door handle depress
Oh please, please ignore me if I look asleep
Lying there trying so very hard not to breathe

My heart beating wildly out of my chest
Lying there, my eyes closed tight as tight can be
Feeling a hand rough on my back makes me jump
Hearing his ragged breathing makes me feel sick

Feeling his breath on my neck fills me with terror
“Please go away, don’t make me do this”
The voice hisses “keep quiet, don’t make a noise”
“Just remember it’s our little secret, you little whore”

I feel so used, so dirty, so violated, so alone
Eventually footsteps head out the room
I hear them go to the bedroom next door
As the footsteps stop it’s all over for tonight

No more footsteps striking terror into my heart
For tonight, anyway, till the next time

04/12/10

JUST MUSING

2010-12-04T15:53:00.000Z

It’s funny how you get triggered sometimes.

Today for instance this afternoon I log on to Facebook and I see on my wall a really fun thing.

“Change your profile picture to one of your favourite childhood cartoon characters and invite your friends to do the same. The purpose of the game? To not see any human faces on Facebook until Monday. Only an invasion of memories!” The cause:- raising awareness of child abuse.

That’s a great fun idea!

But for me it was fraught with danger.

As I read that I experienced an onslaught of emotions and memories which aren’t full of fun and happiness. I felt immense sadness about the childhood I never had. I never had any childhood heroes or knew of any cartoons, nor did I hear any nursery rhymes or have favourite bedtime stories. I had no childhood period!

Sometimes I can say or think that without any feelings or reactions at all.

But today – hmm – that’s not the case!

As soon as I saw that I thought “oh I can’t join in with that cos I had no childhood heroes or favourite cartoon characters. Those ‘normal’ childhood things never were part of my childhood”.

As I was reminded of that I got hit by a deluge of grief, deep sadness and mixed in there was some rage too. Rage and sadness about the childhood I never had. The childhood I was robbed of, and the childhood ‘things and experiences’ I was robbed of too. Along with that came an avalanche of memories – not good memories. I don’t welcome that invasion of memories.

I guess just writing this and acknowledging what I felt and thought is progress.

Not so long ago I would have shut down and withdrawn into myself and not come out for a few days. So hey, so what if this is my reaction to that fun thing on Facebook?

It hurts like crazy that I had no childhood and can’t join in with such a simple thing. After all – it is my reaction - and it matters!

EACH PERSON IS ON THEIR OWN JOURNEY

2010-12-04T15:49:00.000Z

‎I came across the following quote today which really resonated with me - my only comment is that I seem to be forever paddling through ferocious white water. Being very visual I can see myself in that canoe. I can feel all my muscles screaming out for relief. Inside I'm soooooo longing for a patch of easier calmer water just to get a break!

"Each person is on their own journey. It is like every human is given
a life canoe. The canoe has one seat and one paddle. In order to get
anything out of life we must be in the canoe and we must paddle down the river of life. Now, I can share with you how my journey has been, but I cannot paddle your canoe. You must paddle your own... Good luck and enjoy the ride"

Prevent Child Abuse

DEALING WITH FAMILY REJECTION

2010-11-26T22:56:00.001Z

I was rejected pretty much from within the womb. At birth when I came out of the womb a girl, I was wrong from the very beginning. From that moment onwards nothing I could do, say or be could ever be right or be enough. I spent my childhood trying so hard to be a good little girl and keep safe. But I could never be good enough.

The day in January 1986 my family/abusers realised I was preparing to leave the family home and no longer be available for them to use and abuse at will was the day of the ultimate rejection. After being beaten to within an inch of my life I was physically kicked out of the family home and left for dead in the snow.

Ever since then I’ve been trying to survive, trying to rebuild my life, trying to get past what ‘they’ did to me, trying to get past that rejection. BUT no matter what I did it seemed totally impossible for me to get past it all. It‘s ruined every aspect of my life up until this point. Their abuse and rejection of me has, at best, overshadowed everything I’ve tried to do and be. It’s followed me around like a ghost throughout my life.

So many people say to me “I cannot imagine life without family”. Well I can testify it is possible to live life without ‘family’. It’s a hard life. It’s been very lonely, empty and isolating.

I always thought “if my family could not accept me then no one else ever will.”

I always suspected people who tried to befriend me of having ulterior motives. I never believed they wanted to know me ‘for me’ but rather for what I could do for them. Even when I realised people were accepting me and genuinely wanted me around I tested them, keeping them at arm’s length, letting them in, but only so far.

Since I disclosed to the police earlier this year my real friends have realised there is far more to my history than I’ve ever let on to.

As a result I’ve been able to tear down walls with some of friends and let them in to the real me inside. That’s been incredibly liberating and I’ve really begun to realise I really am not alone anymore. It’s me who chooses who to let in and who to keep out. And I have that right.

I realise this is a new beginning. I have the right to define myself and to define ‘family’ for myself. I have the right to decide who is and also who is not part of my life.

I’ve been realising I’m not defined by what my family did to me, said to me, called me, made me to be. I’m defined by who I am. Who I really am inside. The real ‘me’ is very different to the one ‘they’ think I am and very different to who and what ‘they’ said I was. They were very wrong.

Saying my family were wrong is a landmark moment.

This allows me to redefine family for me. From this moment onwards my family are not my blood relatives – it consists of a polyglot mixture of several friends (some of whom are closer to me than others), fellow survivors and professional support workers. My family consists of people who are supportive of me, people who believe in me, people who believe in the journey I’m on, people who I choose to let in. The beauty of my ‘new’ family is that it will always be growing and changing.

The other wonderful thing about my ‘new’ family is that no relationship is based on obligation, control or manipulation.

I was thinking about my ‘new’ family and my new start when I came across a blog post entitled “What If My Family Rejects Me? Part 3” on the Overcoming Sexual Abuse website.

Here are some excerpts from the article:-

“It didn’t make sense that the person who was meant to love me, protect me, nurture me, and teach me right from wrong would betray or reject me. Could this be a huge misunderstanding?

They taught me that I was wrong. They taught me that I was the one who had the problem... the abuse violated my boundaries. Someone invaded my body and soul. They disregarded my will and my feelings. One of the most powerful expressions of our boundaries is the word “no”, and yet the abuse took away my “no”. Part of healing from the abuse is to take back my “no”... My family was saying “no” to me when they rejected me:
“No, I won’t support you.” “No, I won’t admit I did anything harmful to you.” “No, I won’t apologize.”
When I focus on them, I lose clarity about me... The key (well at least one key) is in understanding that we were powerless and that we are not who “they” say we are... I may never know the answers to the question, why’s? the how’s?
Knowing the answers doesn’t change anything. They won’t take care of me, take away the pain, or make up for my loss. The past still happened, and I am the one who has to deal with it... the responsibility for taking care of me lies with the person who cares the most: ME.”

You can read the entire post at
http://overcomingsexualabuse.com/2010/11/26/what-if-my-family-rejects-me-part-3/

On reading the above post, my response deep inside was “it’s not the end of the world if your family rejects you; it is possible to start over”.

It may have taken me nearly 25 years from that awful moment of being left for dead in the snow to realise it is possible to start over, but I have realised it now. AND THAT IS WHAT MATTERS!

It is possible to say “my family were wrong”. The world will not stop spinning if you say that!

When I read the article I had ‘light bulb’ moments all the way through it. All of a sudden things fell into place for me and the journey I am on was validated and I thought “yes, I am on the right track”.

I am learning that ‘me’ is ok. I’m learning to be with me, to accept me as I am, however that may be at any given time. That is who I am. Who I am is someone with value and worth.

YES I AM CONTRADICTING MY FAMILY, MY ABUSERS – and it feels SO GOOD to do so!!

One thing’s for sure I’m not going to protect them anymore by keeping silent about what ‘THEY’ did. Another thing’s for sure, I ain’t going to spend the rest of my life feel intimidated by ‘them’ and living in fear of ‘them’ anymore. The last few months have shown me ‘they’ are the weak ones. ‘They’ are the ones who have stuff to fear NOT ME. ‘They’ are just bullies and cowards and may choose to spend the rest of their lives living in delusion and denial BUT I choose to speak and live in the TRUTH. There is enormous strength in doing that!!

I know I’ll never have the answer to the huge WHY my heart’s been looking for all my life. But what matters is I accept I’ll never have the answers to my questions.

I accept the fact that I was not rejected because I was me – BUT BECAUSE THEY (my family, my abusers) WERE WHO AND WHAT THEY WERE AND ARE. Actually they’re the biggest cowards around, and that thought is a huge turning point for someone who’s spent her entire life in fear of them.

There is life beyond the ultimate rejection – that of your blood family.

I’m only just beginning to discover that and to believe it!

FACING AND SPEAKING THE AWFUL TRUTH

2010-11-23T05:36:00.000Z

Just yesterday a friend pointed out to me that I’d commented to her about how violated ‘I feel’ but that it’s really important to acknowledge the fact that what happened to me is not just a feeling but a fact – I was violated – the truth.

As I’ve contemplated on that I’ve realised that admitting “I was violated” is a HUGE step for me.

It’s easier for me to focus on how shameful I feel about the violations than it is for me to actually say “I was violated”. It’s very painful to say those words. Why is it easier for me to speak about the feeling than it is to speak about the facts?

Part of the answer lies in the reality that I’ve always known the truth but have not had words to describe what happened to me. This is because as a child I had no vocabulary for the things that happened to and around me. Also I have no positive adult sexual experience to compare or to give me language to describe the things done to me as a child. My only adult sexual experience was being raped by someone I thought was a friend just months after being ejected from the abusive family home I’d been trapped in for nearly 20 years.

Typing those words – “the things done to me as a child” was incredibly painful and brought me out in a cold sweat because those words acknowledge the powerlessness I experienced. I can say “I was abused” but not experience any pain in speaking or writing those words. I suppose I’ve used those words many times in my life and have gotten used to using them. But also, and more importantly, those words do not adequately describe the reality of the horror of what I experienced.

The reality is I was serially violated by many abusers. (I do not know how many in total because some of the early abuse involving my grandparents took place in an environment which would now be referred to as a paedophile ring.) The context was witchcraft rituals which involved several people who were friends or acquaintances of my grandparents. I got hung up on those witchcraft rituals for a long time. But I’m now able to see those rituals as cover for what was essentially just a group of people misusing, abusing and violating children for their own satisfaction.

The incestuous abuse on top meant I was violated in many different ways over a 20 year period by every single member of my family. I was deliberately and systematically violated. I was violated not just in body but in mind and spirit too. My abusers did their level best to break my spirit. My abusers brainwashed me into ways of thinking that were self-destructive. I need to repeat for myself that I was deliberately and systematically violated in the most extreme and disgusting ways imaginable. THAT WAS WHAT WAS DONE TO ME.

Just typing the words “that was what was done to me” is very powerful because it turns the self-blame on its head and places the blame squarely on my abusers and off of me.

The actuality that I was so violated has totally messed my life up and I hate that fact in itself. In some ways I hate that even more than the physical and sexual acts that were committed against me as a person and against the body which I inhabit as human being.

Those violations were a means of controlling and manipulating me. I hate the way that my childhood was completely stolen from me and how deviant sexual behaviour was normalised from a very tiny age.

I hate the damage the multiple physical and sexual violations did to my life. I hate the damage every violation did to my gender identity, to my sexual identity and to my body itself. I hate the damage those violations did to my self-esteem, to my thought processes and to my belief system.

My abusers dehumanised and brutalised me to the point where there was no value upon my life at all. That put me in a position of being incapable of placing any value upon my own life or even upon my existence as a human being.

When I think back to my childhood I think of myself as being my abusers’ personal punch bag. I also think of myself being just a piece of meat worth nothing more than a speck of dirt by the side of the road, worth nothing more than the trash put out for the bin men to collect. Oh my word, the effect of that upon me is appalling.

The truth is when I was a child I was a human being with feelings and needs which were totally and systematically ignored and invalidated.

However, I never saw myself as a child who had feelings and needs. Nor have I been able to see myself in that way as an adult.

The horrible truth is I never ever actually saw or thought of myself as a human being. Nor as a human being that had been extremely violated. I just viewed myself as damaged goods, a blot on the landscape and a piece of meat.

But the truth is I am a human being whose basic needs were completely trashed and ignored. I am a human being who was horrifically violated. I am a human being who is now beginning to speak out about those violations in order to find healing.

Writing about it in such terms is bringing me out in a cold sweat and making me feel ill because I am realising the really horrible truth for the very first time.

The real truth is I did not deserve those violations. I was a defenceless innocent very tiny child when those violations began. There was nothing I could have done to have prevented them. I was not to blame. I was not a piece of meat or punch bag. Rather I was a little human being who was treated in totally inhuman ways.

I am not a piece of meat. I am not a punch bag. I am not trash. I am not a speck of dirt by the side of the road.

I am a human being who was treated in inhuman ways. I am a human being who deserved and deserves better.

By beginning to expose the truth I realise I’m beginning to say “I have value, what happened to me matters, really matters, what was done to me really damaged me but I did not actually deserve any of it in spite of all I was brainwashed to believe, what happened to me was not right. I did not deserve any of those violations nor could I have prevented them.”

THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND

2010-11-22T01:20:00.001Z

These are my two favourite versions of this song - the first sung by Neil Diamond, the second played on the piano by Henry Mancini. Enjoy!!

THE KING IS DEAD, LONG LIVE THE KING

2010-11-21T15:03:00.000Z

Just when I thought I was settling down, ‘dealing’ with what’s happened during the last few weeks and months I discover I’m not ‘dealing with it’ as well as I thought I was. I’m not getting past ‘it’.

I keep hearing the phrase in my head “The King Is Dead, Long Live The King”. That proclamation is used to describe the transition of sovereignty following the death of the monarch. Being British I’ve always been aware of that phrase but never knew of how it came into existence. So I decided to look it up as I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Wikipedia tells me the phrase was “

originally translated from the French “le Roi est mort. Vive le Roi!” which was first declared in 1422 at the coronation of King Charles VII. The phrase arose from the law of le mort saisit le vif — that the transfer of sovereignty occurs instantaneously upon the moment of death of the previous monarch. "The King is dead" is the announcement of a monarch who has just died. "Long live the King!" refers to the heir who immediately succeeds to a throne upon the death of the preceding monarch”

.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_King_is_dead._Long_live_the_King

History lesson now over!

Trouble is I can’t join in the “Long Live the King” bit because I’m stuck in the “The King is Dead” bit.

There isn’t quite such an easy succession from the one to the other for me. I’m still waiting for the phone to ring and for me to hear the words “they’re going to be charged, prosecution is going ahead”. I can’t seem to accept what has happened. Actually I can’t believe or take in what has happened.

My case should never have been NFA’d by the Crown Prosecution Service. Someone should be fired for making such an awful decision. Something went very badly wrong. Someone somewhere overlooked something. Someone somewhere did not do their job properly. It is such a total injustice that I just cannot take in.

I don’t know how I’m going to ‘get over’ this. Am I ever going to ‘get over’ it? Or is it going to be more a case of learning to live with the ‘almost impossible to live with’ – that I spoke out, I disclosed to the police expecting it all to come out into the open instead it’s all been hushed up, the guilty walk free, unexposed. How am I supposed to live with that? What it took to make that initial phone call to disclose and what it took to go through all the police interviews – and for what?

Yes I’m angry. Yes I’m hurting. Yes I’m bewildered. Yes I’m in shock. Yes I’m sad. Yes I’m longing for someone to shake me awake from this nightmare. Except there’s no waking up from this nightmare because I’m living it.

The last few days I’ve been hit by a fresh wave of shock, disbelief, grief, horror. I had to write because I was closing in on myself. I had to write to get my feelings out somehow. I had to write to acknowledge this stage in the process. I had to write to acknowledge how I’m feeling. I had to write to honour my feelings. I had to write to honour the grief. I had to write to try to process this. I had to write just because I had to write.

FURTHER DEFINING OF THE PROBLEM WITH LOVE

2010-11-21T14:57:00.000Z

Following my post entitled “The Problem with Love” in which I discussed a post on the "Emerging from Broken" blog site exploring the issue of love. Since then a further post has been published on "Emerging From Broken" going deeper into the issue.

The post considers the biblical foundation for love found in 1 Corinthians 13 and how that definition of ‘love’ was understood and defined through growing up in an abusive setting. It’s a very challenging and honest article a lot of which I totally relate to.

You can find it at http://emergingfrombroken.com/love-is-patient-love-is-kind-a-bit-of-a-rant/

THE PROBLEM WITH LOVE

2010-11-17T20:59:00.001Z

In 1998 I wrote the following poem:-

LOVE
This is such a very small word we use, but it has many connotations, many meanings. So often it is a word misused, open to abuse, people using it so lightly without thinking. To describe so many different levels of feelings, it has just hit me that in its purest form. I really do not understand what it means what is love really all about? How is it born? I find myself thrown into total complete confusion when asked to describe what it really means to love, I scarcely comprehend what God's love is really like never what it means to really love myself, nor even how you then love your neighbour alike, what does this word 'love' really, really mean? Can someone please explain it to me very, very simply.

As a child ‘love’ for me was something extremely negative and full of contradictions. As an adult ‘love’ is been something I’ve been totally terrified of.

‘Love' is something that’s kept me running away very fast every time I’ve encountered it.

‘Love’ is something I’ve been completely unable to allow into my life. I’ve often wished I could be ‘normal’. I so long to love and to be loved but am so terrified of ‘love’ that instead I’ve been alone, so very alone and so very afraid. I never knew ‘love’ as a child only cruelty and rejection. That wrecked my life because ‘love’ was something I grew to fear from a very early age.

The abuse I endured defined ‘love’ for me in the following terms:-

For me ‘love’ means pain, powerlessness, having to do things I don’t want to. ‘Love’ means manipulation, control, obligation. ‘Love’ means having to comply regardless of its effects upon me. For me ‘love’ is something dangerous, phoney, something to run a mile from in the opposite direction. ‘Love’ means pretending and playing games. ‘Love’ is about having no choice. ‘Love’ is something that is not real. ‘Love’ is about being false. ‘Love’ means rejection if you don’t comply or when you’re no longer of use to your abusers. ‘Love’ in meant instant obedience. ‘Love’ meant compliance. ‘Love’ meant doing what was required without comment, reaction or response. ‘Love’ meant being whatever they wanted you to be at any given time. ‘Love’ meant keeping your mouth shut. ‘Love’ meant keeping the secrets secret. ‘Love’ meant you belonged if you complied; you were wanted if you complied – but all in the wrong ways of course.

As an adult I freak out inside if anybody ever says “I love you” to me, or writes it. It starts a panic and ‘fight or flight’ reaction within me. I cannot cope with hearing or seeing those words because they mean danger to me.

I’m always testing those who say they care about me, wanting to see proof, but all I end up doing is pushing them away, putting huge walls up or keeping them at arm’s length. Even my closest friends have been kept at arm’s length.

I cannot afford to let people close because love, intimacy, vulnerability means you get hurt.

When your ‘family’ who are supposed to ‘love’ you did everything and anything but ‘love’ you it leaves confusion and dysfunction in its wake.

The ‘love’ I knew as a child was false love. But it was the only kind of ‘love’ I knew.

It ruined me for the rest of my life. It made it impossible for me to love or be loved because I learned to fear love. Even all these years later I cannot get past that fear.

One thing is for sure - I don’t know what love is. I’ve got a lot of healing to do in this area, that’s for sure. I began thinking about the issue of love again after coming across a blog post called “If Love Is The Answer, What Is Love?” on the ‘Emerging from Broken’ blog site.

Here are short excerpts from the article.

“In reality however, at least in my reality, love hurts, love is mean, love means nothing. I love you means obligation, ownership, disrespect, putting up with being devalued, manipulated and accepting that I am not as important and my needs are not important, but only the person who says that they love me, is important. This is quite a mixed message and makes love a word charged with many different feelings and fears that are triggered just hearing the words... I love you is a phrase that is thrown carelessly around; When a child wants love and acceptance so deeply it becomes easy to ignore the red flags from some people and it is also very easy to accept the wrong definition of love... It helped me immensely to realize that I had the wrong definition of love all along. It also helped me to realize that controllers and abusers NEVER love you with the same definition of love that they want you to follow when it comes to them... when I was able to apply the true definition of love to myself, everything came together.”

Darlene Ouimet

To read the entire article go to http://emergingfrombroken.com/if-love-is-the-answer-what-is-love/.

As I read that post and the comments other readers made about their experiences and definitions of false love, I was encouraged to realise I’m not alone in my confusion about this topic. I’m also not alone in trying to re-define what ‘love’ actually is.

I realised the first step to re-defining ‘love’ is defining what ‘love’ isn’t.

In doing that I apprehended the fact that it is okay to say that the ‘love’ I knew as a child from my abusers was false ‘love’; it wasn’t real ‘love’ and there is going to be no punishment for saying that.

Only then am I able to start to reject those old definitions of ‘love and begin to redefine it more healthily and realistically.

WOW, SO MANY PEOPLE, I AM AMAZED!!

2010-11-14T21:29:00.000Z

I am immensely humbled and astounded to see that over 8000 people have now visited this blog since I established it in July 2008.

This time last year just over 3000 people had visited so to have 5000 new visitors during this past year is just awesome. My website counter only counts first time visits rather than total site hits so I don’t know how many people come back and follow my journey. I only know of a few.

When I set this blog up it was all about me going public for the very first time about the’ story’ of my childhood. I try to avoid the word ‘story’ when speaking about writing about my life. The word ‘story’ conjures up thoughts of made up things. That is the reason I avoid that word because nothing I have written or will write in the future is made up. However horrible it may be, it is the TRUTH of what I endured and somehow survived.

During my life I’ve told friends I was abused in childhood but never gone into detail. I seemed to spend my life going round in circles saying I’d been abused, desperate for help and desperate to do whatever it took to heal but not getting anywhere. It was so frustrating and soul destroying. So as the years passed I just tried to get on with life but found I couldn’t. No matter what I tried nothing worked. I couldn’t find a way through the pain which was slowly killing me on the inside.

The hardest consequence of the abuse for me is that I’ve been so alone because the severity of it left me completely incapable of having relationships. I’ve felt like a child trapped in an adult’s body all my life.

I’ve also felt like a man trapped in a woman’s body all my life because my femininity was never validated and because I so wanted to go to sleep a girl and wake up every morning as a boy so the abuse wouldn’t continue. For many years I seriously considered having a sex-change operation because I felt so bad in my own skin. I never recognised or validated my own femininity. Interestingly as I’ve lifted the veil on the truth of the abuse I’ve felt less and less like a man and begun to tentatively accept my own gender.

Over the years I kept experiencing depressive episode after depressive episode. Each depressive episode got darker and was harder to climb out of. The panic attacks grew worse over the years.

I hid my hurt behind a well worn fake smile. I hid my eating disorder underneath baggy clothes. I hid my self-harming underneath tubigrip bandages on my arms.

After many years of insomnia, nightmares, night terrors and keeping busy, busy, busy, my body collapsed with Chronic Fatigue/ME. I knew some of the roots of the CFS/ME lay in my childhood abuse, although there was also a link to an episode of severe flu that I never really got over.

When I began this blog I had no idea what it would become or that two other blogs would be born out of it. My vision in setting it up was to share my life’s history, my poetry and document my healing journey. There’ve been times I’ve hit the publish button terrified, knowing I’ve just shared a really vulnerable part of me.

The comments I’ve received during the lifetime of the blog have been amazing, astounding and so encouraging.

Little did I know where the blog would lead. As time’s gone on I’ve got more and more brave in my writing. Each time I take a risk and share increasingly vulnerably the more liberated I feel.

Blogging has been an amazing journey for me. I had no thought of who would read my blog. I just hoped that survivors would find it somehow. I hoped those survivors would find hope and inspiration through my writing.

As my blog has developed I’ve realised it is possible to come out of the devastation of child abuse and find a way through the hurt and shame but it’s a very hard and arduous journey.

Although I’ve written in great detail at times on my blog I still find it virtually impossible to verbally speak the detail. There’s something about the anonymity of a computer screen that has helped me explore ‘telling’ in writing. But my ‘telling’ had to go beyond that.

After the blog had been running for a year and a half I knew my next step in ‘telling’ was disclosing to the police which I did in March of this year. During the five months of the police investigation I wasn’t able to speak in detail because of the pending legal case and wanted to. So I spoke and wrote around it exploring some of the effects of the abuse upon my life and exploring some of my thoughts and feelings about it. Since the case was been dropped for lack of evidence I can talk and write openly about it all.

The weird thing is I’ve found I can’t verbally speak about it!

That feels really strange.

The thing is I held back a lot in the police interviews because I was afraid that if I told the truth as horrifically as it was really was I wouldn’t be believed because I thought those hearing me would think that things so horrific couldn’t possibly have happened and I wouldn’t have any credibility.

Although I’ve been fully believed by all the professionals, even though they don’t know the detail, they fully believe I’m a survivor. Despite all that there is still fear/sheer terror of ‘telling’.

There is also very deep shame. Shame prevents me telling! I feel so contaminated, so tainted and so violated by what happened to me that I’m afraid of telling because I’m scared of passing that contamination on to the person I tell.

I’ve come a long way during the last couple of years in sharing the truth of my life but I’m now about to commence a new stage of my healing.

The next step of telling for me is sitting with my mental health worker and telling her the truth of what I endured as a child to prepare me for the step beyond that of going into an intensive 12-week group programme for survivors of child sexual abuse.

The mere thought of sitting face to face with someone and telling of such shameful degrading acts terrifies me. But I know I must face it if I’m going to move forward.

In the meantime it’s such a privilege and honour to share my journey with you.

ABUSE AND LINKS TO EATING DISORDER, EXERCISE + SWEAT AVERSION TRIGGERS

2010-11-09T19:48:00.001Z

This post lifts the lid on a very sensitive issue to me. In writing it I'm choosing to be honest and vulnerable about something I've always felt deeply ashamed and guilty about.

Throughout my life body weight, body shape and food has been a huge issue. I’ve been overweight for as long as I can remember, even as a child I was overweight. I’ve never been anywhere near what should have been the right weight for me. There are many reasons for this, some only my abusers know and are responsible for.

I’ve never been one for exercise. It’s not because I’m lazy or like being fat. In fact I hate being fat and overweight and always have done. I hate the way my body looks. I hated to dress in special clothes to do PE at school or exercise at classes or gyms. I hated being made to run cross country runs in the winter time at school and find I couldn’t breathe properly in the cold air. I just thought it was because I was a fat kid, but actually I had undiagnosed childhood asthma. Because seeing a doctor was a very rare event in my childhood the asthma was not diagnosed until I was an adult.

I’ve always hated the thought of someone being able to see my body, see me sweat and so on. I hate getting sweaty. I hate the smell and look of sweat, especially stale sweat which is a huge trigger for me. So exercising is a whole difficult area for me, it triggers me big time!!

As a child I was forced to do gymnastics. That meant wearing horrible disgusting gym suits. Those gym suits made me feel very naked and exposed. I found that ultra embarrassing as a child. I couldn’t hide how I looked and hated that! At home there was no place to hide from being goggled at and poked, especially in the bath and in my bed. Then I had to go to public places (sports hall) and wear things that made me feel just as exposed and naked. It was horrible and I had no choice over whether I did those things, went those places or wore those things.

My abusers also forced me to take part in talent contests. I’ve never known their reasons for doing that except I had a good singing voice and was a cute looking kid with freckles and dimples. I remember as a little girl people poking my face and saying “what lovely dimples you have”. I want to scream at them to leave me alone and stop touching me, that I hated my dimples. Instead I smiled sweetly and screamed silently inside. I hated those talent contests. I hated being dressed in frilly dresses. I hated having to go on stage and ‘perform’, knowing if I didn’t I’d get beat afterwards. But my abusers always had reasons for beating me whatever I did – not smiling broadly enough, singing slightly off tune or whatever. I was forced on to stage to sing and dance. I loved to sing and dance as a kid but I hated having to do it on stage in front of so many grown-ups goggling at me and at my body. Those talent shows ended when we moved north. I’ve never danced since. That’s another reason why I hate exercising. I still have a good singing voice but hate singing in front of other people. That’s one reason I don’t like going to church.

I feel embarrassed when people talk about dancing. I hate watching dancing as it triggers me back to being that little girl on stage wanting to run away and hide but having to ‘perform’ instead. I hate going to social events where there are discos because I feel embarrassed and clumsy on the dance floor and just want to run away and hide. Dancing means you and other people getting sweaty. That is such a huge trigger for me that I want nothing to do with it.

I'm very aware of my body size and shape and really sensitive about it. I tend to wear baggy clothes which hide my shape and I suppose hide me. I hate to draw attention to myself in any way and hate getting sweaty. That’s one reason why I prefer winter to summer - and a major reason why I avoid exercise - not because I'm lazy, it just has too many triggers for me to even go there. BIG HUGE triggers for me!!!

I hate the way my body looks because I was told by my abusers that my body was horrible and no one would want to know someone who had such a horrible body. My body was just a piece of meat to them. A piece of meat they could do whatever they chose to. My body was a piece of meat that had no rights to privacy. It was a piece of meat that was poked, prodded and used for anything and everything. Being told I was fat, ugly, horrible and no one would want to know me because of it meant my body image has always been pretty awful.

Being overweight has its compensations – for me it means it’s less likely someone’s going to be sexually attracted to me – now that’s a real biggie. I went the way of wanting to be unattractive to the opposite sex because I was scared of them and didn’t want anyone touching me or getting anywhere near me. I wanted to claim my body back but didn’t do it in the right way, just the only way I knew how and that was through the whole chaotic eating thing. So I’d hide my horrible body underneath baggy clothes.

My abusers deliberately starved me and then force fed me, as punishments but also as a means of humiliating and controlling me too.

I had no sense of food being something that could sustain you or being a good thing. Food was always in the context of bad things happening. I had no idea what a healthy diet was. I had no idea how to cook.

Food was just something which had really bad connotations.

Throughout my adult life I’ve kept up the starving/binging processes. I never even realised that it was an eating disorder until a few months ago I read a leaflet about eating disorders and saw binging mentioned as a specific disorder.

I use food as a comfort but that has a double edge to it. I start feeling guilty about stuffing myself and making myself fatter so I starve myself to get rid of the guilt. But the guilt and shame never really go away. I’ve always been deeply ashamed about myself, my body shape and size and my chaotic relationship with food.

Over the years Doctors and nutritionalists have tried to get me to diet or eat more healthily but to no avail. None of it worked because the root cause of my weight problems goes far deeper than not just eating the right kind of food. And of course adding in exercise was never going to work for me either for reasons already mentioned.

I guess that the truth is I use and misuse food in the same way I was used and misused!

I was always too ashamed to admit to the truth – that I binge a lot – but I also starve myself too – that I don’t know the first thing about what healthy eating or even a healthy relationship to food is about. I so wish I could be different but I don’t know how to find a way out of such a mess!! It’s not about weight, weight is a symptom!

The shame abuse causes is so multi-faceted and so deep. It goes deep to my very core. It does deep into my belief system about myself and my value, or lack of it! It goes deep into my belief system about food, my chaotic eating and so many other things. It goes deep into my belief system about my body, about how ugly and horrible it is. It goes deep into those lies and many others!

That’s a tiny snapshot of what the sexual abuse did to me deep inside.

I wish I could stop feeling so ashamed and embarrassed about my body, about the eating disorders, about ME.

I suppose going public in this way is my first step towards hoping and thinking that maybe there is a way out the other side of all this stuff.

DAMN FEELINGS

2010-11-08T08:58:00.000Z

Damn feelings that get in the way of everyday life
Damn the deep trauma that causes disassociation
Damn unreliable people who don’t stop and think of the consequences of their actions
Damn appointments that get cancelled at the last minute when you need them the most
Damn promises to phone you back that are not honoured
Damn memories that pour out at the most inopportune moments
Damn nightmares and night terrors that interrupt my sleep and tire me out
Damn the abusers who’ve left me with this horrific legacy
Damn the abuse for happening in the first place
Damn the unfairness that I have to do so much hard work to heal
Damn the hurt and pain of the memories, nightmares and healing processes
Damn the fact that child abuse happens at all
Damn child abuse for the lives it shatters
Damn the abuse that has so destroyed my life
Damn feelings that threaten to overwhelm and take centre stage
Is there ever an end to all these damn feelings?

30/10/10

DON’T MISINTERPRET MY SILENCE AS INDIFFERENCE

2010-11-08T04:10:00.001Z

The sound of your weeping has been heard and noted
Your tears have filled up MY sanctuary
The heartbreak has been observed by angels and noted
You have flooded my sanctuary with your tears

I cannot ignore your pain and will not ignore the crying of your heart
I am the God who weeps with those who weep; I am the God who cries with those who cry
I am with you in all your tears, pain, confusion and bewilderment

DO NOT MISTAKE OR MISINTERPRET MY SILENCE FOR INDIFFERENCE OR NOT CARING

I care, I really do care, far more than you’ll ever know
There are times when all I can do is be silent as my kids weep
Sometimes all I can do is sit in silence in the face of appalling suffering and injustice

I AM NOT UNAFFECTED MY BELOVED BUT DEEPLY AFFECTED, THAT IS WHY I HAVE BEEN SILENT

I’ve heard your tears, your weeping, your hurt, your confusion
Your shock, your bewilderment, your disappointment, your devastation
The sound has been rising into my sanctuary like the finest incense
The sacrifice of a broken heart seeking after me is the sweetest of aromas

The injustices that you’ve endured have not escaped my notice at all
Instead they rise as the most awful stench into my sanctuary
I hate injustice! I truly hate it! And I hate what has happened!

I KNOW YOU TRUSTED ME LIKE NEVER BEFORE ON THIS MATTER AND AM FEELING VERY BETRAYED

I’M SORRY MY BELOVED, MY FAIR ONE, I’M SORRY, TRULY SORRY!!

23/10/10

BLOGS THAT HELPED ME AS I HAVE GRAPPLED WITH FORGIVENESS

2010-11-03T16:16:00.000Z

After writing for a whole week I posted my first blog post about forgiveness on my blog site 21st Oct 2010 “You Can Fly With Broken Wings” - http://fionanicholson.blogspot.com/2010/10/betrayal-defiance-lies-denial-injustice.html

My first post was all about me exploring how do you forgive someone who is totally defiant, lying and denying anything ever happened? How do you forgive someone who is defiantly unrepentant? How do you forgive someone who admits no fault or wrong? How do you forgive someone who does not validate the truth of what happened?

I was also questioning whether or not as Christians, real forgiveness is possible or even right in such circumstances.

I’d had plenty of things said to me down the years by many Christians concerning forgiveness.

Most people’s response to me when I’ve found the courage to mention/disclose being a survivor of child abuse has been “have you forgiven them? You must forgive them!”

So many times I wished I’d kept my mouth shut but there comes a time when you can’t dodge the “where/who are your family?” kind of questions any longer and have to speak the truth, otherwise you’re seen as being evasive and that just invites even more probing questions. It’s horrible really how many Christians pry into other people’s business under the guise of ‘brotherly/sisterly concern’ or even worse ‘prayerful concern’.

No one ever asked me if my abusers had asked for forgiveness or been repentant.

That didn’t seem to come into the equation just the small matter of had I – the Christian in the situation - forgiven?

Something was very wrong about that.

In Christian circles I repeatedly came across a lot of phoney forgiveness – a “forgive and forget it ever happened” kind of forgiveness which was more about implying that “you cannot have forgiven if you need to talk about it, if you’d just forgive you’d heal and not need to mention it again” it felt like a silencing order – do the right thing, forgive them, don’t mention it again (if you do you haven’t really forgiven). But all that does is push the pain and the issues firmly under the carpet. Another favourite comment I met was “do the ‘Christian’ thing and seek reconciliation with your abusers – that is the real Christian thing to do, that is true forgiveness”.

If I had a penny for every time that has been said to me I’d be a very rich woman indeed!!

But all this was sheer madness to me! It didn’t make any kind of sense. But again I was told that it did not matter that my abusers (family) were the ones who’d disowned me because I was the one who was the Christian in the situation so I should want to work towards reconciliation.

This was totally unreal to me. There was absolutely no way I was going to seek reconciliation with people who had treated me with so much deliberate cruelty and then disowned me. This was all so unrealistic and simplistic to me and didn’t address the real situation I was in.

One week after writing my first blog post I published a second one which took the issue beyond the discussion stage to drawing some conclusions.

While I was writing my posts about forgiveness I was really surprised, encouraged and helped as I came across 3 blog posts which validated my experiences and thought processes. The posts helped me understand my thoughts and feelings about the issue and gave me the courage to post my second blog post on forgiveness- http://fionanicholson.blogspot.com/2010/10/forgiveness-some-of-my-conclusions.html

The first helpful post I read can be found at the Overcoming Sexual Abuse Blog Site at -
http://overcomingsexualabuse.com/2010/10/28/what-about-forgiveness/

The second appeared on the “Emerging From Broken” Blog Site – I include short excerpts from it below:-

"... As children, IF we even realize that it is wrong to be called dumb, stupid and useless, IF we even realize that being beaten on a whim or because someone else is in a bad mood is wrong; IF we somehow figure out that adults having sexual relations of any kind with children is illegal, and IF that victim child tells and is ignored, called a liar, OR anything else other than protected and validated, then the child has an extra layer of abuse to deal with. When this child grows up IF they ever disclose the abuse, they are SO OFTEN met with more invalidation and unhelpful instruction such as “you must forgive”
... Are you getting the picture about why so many people DON’T tell? Many keep the secret in the dark recesses of their minds ~ so convinced that the guilt and shame are theirs to bear and that they must have somehow deserved this kind of mistreatment and added on to that is the whole insistence that forgiveness is the only answer which makes many of us reluctant to disclose abuse least we be seen as unforgiving!
... SO let’s just say we finally DO talk about it and then we are told to jump ahead to forgiveness. HOW the heck is that supposed to be possible?”
... When we are encouraged to try to understand the abuser, it is worse. Why should we try to understand something so incomprehensible? WHY do we need to understand them when we have not been encouraged to understand our own feelings yet?”

To read the full blog post you can find it at -
http://emergingfrombroken.com/forgive-the-abusers-a-bit-of-a-rant/

That blog post on “Emerging From Broken” put into words what I was struggling to find the vocabulary for.

My worst experience of this issue was having well meaning though seriously misguided Christians force me to pray prayers of forgiveness towards my abusers out loud in their presence - and to be told to ask God to make me want to forgive – when I tried to object and refuse to do it – and when I couldn’t own up to having the right feelings I was told I was harbouring revenge and unforgiveness in my heart and was at fault and that the ‘right’ feelings would come if I pursued God for them. That caused me so much confusion because it made me feel that I was ‘bad’ or ‘deficient’ in some way because I couldn’t feel forgiving towards my abusers in spite of praying what I was made to pray.

I realise now how much that was a re-abuse of me which totally invalidated my feelings about my abusers and what they did to me.

Just as I published my second blog post I came across a very helpful biblical exploration of the issue which confirmed the conclusion I had reached that forgiveness cannot happen in the face of defiant refusal to repent or admit fault.

I include here a short excerpt from the post -

“Forgiveness and the requirement to forgive are not necessarily what we have been led to believe they are by our abusers and their enablers, or by others who are either misinformed or trying to deceive us. In the Bible, we are told to forgive as the Lord forgave us.(Colossians 3:13, Ephesians 4:32) The Lord forgives us when we repent. (Ezekiel 33:10-20, Isaiah 55:6-7, Jeremiah 6:16-30 & 26:3, Luke 13:3 & 5, Acts 3:19) He does NOT forgive those who are 'stiff-necked', refuse to repent, and intend to continue in their sinful ways, and he does not expect us to, either. By forgiving remorseless evildoers, we are depriving them of the opportunity to repent and transform their lives... In Luke 17:3, Jesus tells us very clearly that we are to forgive someone who sins against us IF he repents. God does not want us to continue to be abused, in fact, we are told to shun evildoers... but if there is true repentance the Lord does want us to forgive.”

To read the full article go to -
http://journey2myself.webs.com/apps/blog/show/5212099-a-thought-on-forgiveness-

I've not finished with this issue of forgiveness, if anything I'm only just beginning to explore it, trying to get past all the religious stuff and redefine it as something very different to what I've always been led to believe it was.

Real forgiveness is a process not a one-time event and is in the end something you do within your own heart and emotions in order to move on and through the pain.

I realise that forgiveness is good for the person who forgives as it sets them free from the need for revenge and the invisible ties to the person who caused the hurt.

My gut reaction to forgiveness is that it is possible to forgive things a person has done to you (although some things are harder than others) - but only God can actually forgive a person.

Where there is no repentance and no admittance of fault or wrong, only defiance and lies, forgiveness cannot happen.

In this circumstance all I can do is take my hands from around their neck - and that is excruciating to do - and work through the pain of their defiance on top of the pain and horror of what they did to me.

I will end with just one final point. Real forgiveness is a very personal thing and it is actually nobody else's business as to whether or not you've forgiven.

Sometimes, even for the person doing the forgiving, it's hard to figure out where you are on the forgiveness paradigm.

This Is An Excellent Exploration of the Dynamics of Ritual Abuse

2010-11-01T21:14:00.001Z

Terms that go with "organized paedophilia" that typically are not associated with it - part of an article by "The Truth About Stopping Child Abuse"

"Ritual abuse" is a rather shunned term by society although it can be abuse by one person who performs abuse in a specific way each time... For survivors of sophisticated paedophiles (those who intentionally inflict horror on their victims to create dissociation), the horror is typically inflicted in a Ritual Abuse setting... Why? Because any child who recalls such things is immediately dismissed. By doing so, we provide paedophiles with a safe haven for abuse... this Ritual Abuse creates the fragmented mind that can then be further split through ongoing trauma until DID takes over the child's mind and all abuse is immediately forgotten afterwards, hidden in a shroud of amnesia for usually decades. Herein lies the perfection to paedophilia. A victim who has no memory of the abuse and a paedophile who has a young victim for as long as the child/adult has amnesia.

FORGIVENESS - Some of my conclusions

2010-10-29T23:45:00.001+01:00

Given the unique situation I find myself in I’ve been grappling with issues of forgiveness when you’re met with a wall of sheer defiance, denial, lies, no confession, no repentance and no admittance of fault.

As I’ve grappled with this subject, I’ve realised how abused, misused and badly represented the issue of forgiveness has been throughout years of church teaching and comments/judgement/bad counsel from other Christians. I’ve realised too that in order to forgive one must define what forgiveness is and what forgiveness isn’t.

When I’ve spoken to Christians about being abused, tortured and disowned by my family many have responded with “have you forgiven them, you must forgive them”. Thus inferring that if I’d forgiven them then I wouldn’t need to talk about them or talk about what they did and how it’s affected my life.

Other Christians have pressed upon me that if only I forgave then magically all the hurt and pain would go away, impressing upon me that you cannot be a real Christian if you’ve not truly forgiven from your heart and sought all paths towards reconciliation. This infers that you cannot forgive and not want to be reconciled to the people who so hurt you. Many Christians told me that as they’re your family you have to forgive and forget and act like it never happened because they are your family and as a Christian I was sinning greatly to not do that or to not want to do that.

Some Christians have forced me into praying prayers of forgiveness towards my abusers which weren’t so much about me forgiving but more about them feeling they’d done their Christian duty in making me forgive and the rest was up to me complying.

Much of what was said to me implied that all the hurt and damage would just vanish from my life if only I could forgive and because I was so hurt and obviously damaged then I could not have really forgiven even if I thought I had. The hurt and confusion such comments caused me was immense.

There were so many different definitions and understanding about forgiveness in the many things said to me. But none of them worked because each of them was a phoney forgiveness. A forgiveness that forgives, forgets, acts as if the wrong never happened, ignores the hurt and pain, pushes it all under the carpet. That is not real true forgiveness.

My understanding of true forgiveness in the context of Christian understanding is that it always happens within a framework of confession, repentance, admittance of fault, apologies, and so on. A making things right with the person wronged in some way – either through reconciliation or making good in some meaningful way.

Many Christians have said to me well if Jesus could forgive HIS tormentors and murderers from the cross then you should too. I’m not all that sure I agree with that. I don’t agree with that because I am not Jesus, I can only be ME grappling with the hurt and damage in my life. I do not have the totally secure relationship with HIS Father (my Safe Daddy) that HE had. Also I do not agree that Jesus did forgive in the words that HE uttered. Jesus could have chosen to say “I forgive them” but HE didn’t. It is recorded that HE actually said from the cross was – “Father forgive them..."

That prayer Jesus uttered from the cross is something I keep coming back to over and over again.

There is something very profound in those 3 words and something to learn from them.

There is a reason why Jesus did not say “I forgive them” but rather “Father forgive them” - it's as if Jesus Himself really grappled with forgiving the people who were doing such dreadful things to HIM and actually struggled with it Himself and in HIS love and compassion in the end Jesus passed it on to HIS Father to do the forgiving because in HIS humanity it was too big and too hard for HIM to deal with.

In grappling with this subject I’ve had to redefine forgiveness for myself.

As I’ve been in this process of understanding and redefining what true forgiveness really means for me it was interesting to read this article about forgiving on Overcoming Sexual Abuse’s website, along with comments readers made in response to it. http://overcomingsexualabuse.com/2010/10/28/what-about-forgiveness/.

At the same time I also read this blog post approaching the subject from a different angle - http://emergingfrombroken.com/forgive-the-abusers-a-bit-of-a-rant/

Both those articles helped me define better for myself what I was thinking and feeling about the subject and have informed the conclusions I’ve come to.

My understanding of true forgiveness in the context of Christian understanding is that it always happens within a framework of confession, repentance, admittance of fault, apologies, and so on. A making things right with the person wronged in some way – either through reconciliation or making good in some meaningful way.

I do not believe that outside of that framework true meaningful forgiveness can occur; only partial forgiveness.

True forgiveness involves laying the blame where it lies – on the shoulders of the wrongdoer – which involves confrontation but does not necessarily have to lead to reconciliation. Reconciliation should never be the aim of forgiveness.

Reconciliation may be a by-product of forgiveness but is not and cannot be the main reason for seeking confrontation in order for forgiveness to occur.

I’ve never sought nor wanted reconciliation with my abusers despite many Christians trying to convince me that I could not be a real Christian and not want a relationship with them. This to me is a crazy viewpoint.

Who would want to be in a relationship with people who deliberately and systematically tortured, humiliated and abused you? It seems crazy to even suggest that. But so many Christians have done just that – reminding me that if you forgive you forget and so should re-establish a relationship regardless of what had happened. How can anyone forget 20 years of abuse and torture? To do that would be to deny me a history. That is total madness.

I may not have had a childhood but I still had 20 years of memories and history which all inform and helped create the person I am today. So many times I’ve wanted to be able to say “yes I have a family, yes I am/was loved, yes I am/was accepted by my parents/family. So many times I’ve wished it possible to change history. But it isn’t possible to do that, you can only learn to live with the truth!

Only admittance from the person who wronged you enables true forgiveness. A person who will never confess or repent, but continue to deny, defy, lie, refuse to admit any wrong cannot be truly forgiven nor is deserving of forgiveness.

Forgiveness in itself does not heal a person. However, it may be a catalyst that kick starts the process of healing.

In redefining forgiveness for myself I’ve come to see that forgiveness is not a one-time event but rather a process of letting go your hands from around the neck of the person who wronged you and keeping them by your side.

I’ve had to get go my dream that my abusers would one acknowledge something was wrong, which they’ve never done. All my life there’s been this great pretence of normality and nothing is wrong. Any acknowledgement of wrong would have made a huge difference to me but it never came.

When confronted with the legal consequences of their behaviour a wall of defiance, denials and lies prevented their exposure and caused me immense anguish. Letting that dream go was immensely agonising for me. As I let dream go I let go any other hopes I’d ever had of them ever apologising. I also had to let go my hopes that one day they’d relent and recognise my existence as their daughter.

By accepting that it was possible to move on to no longer expecting, wanting for hoping for anything from them. I moved from being totally overwhelmed by pain to a place where I can begin to believe there is a way through to healing.

I don’t claim to have ‘nailed’ an understanding of forgiveness, but rather I’ve come to understand that for me forgiveness is a process of letting go day by day.

As I do that the door is opened to allowing healing and soothing to come into my wounds so I can have hope and a vision for a future that is no longer captive to my past.

By understanding forgiveness in this way I’m able to take my life back and free myself of those invisible ties to my abusers. I know I will continue to over the days, weeks, months and years to come.

Each time I speak out the truth of what happened I take a little bit of my life back.

Every bit of my life I take back the more I win and the more my abusers lose.

I HAVE SEEN SUFFERING MAKE HEROES OF SOME OF MY CHILDREN, Desmond Tutu

2010-10-26T21:20:00.000+01:00

I HAVE SEEN SUFFERING MAKE HEROES OF SOME OF MY CHILDREN

The strength with which they endure their pain is a shining example to all

But sometimes, child, suffering is only suffering

It seems gratuitous, it feels meaningless, it teaches nothing, it brings no gifts

IT JUST IS

It just is and you feel alone, abandoned, forsaken

YOU THINK I HAVE GONE SO YOU RUN

Your mind skitters away from the heart, your body shrinks away from the pain, your heart tries to shut itself against the suffering

I SEE YOU RUN

You don’t believe that I am with you

BUT I AM THERE

When you stop running from the pain and turn to face it, when you can step into the agony and let it be, when you can turn to your own suffering and know its name

THEN YOU WILL SEE ME

YOU WILL SEE ME IN THE HEART OF IT WITH YOU

It doesn’t matter if your body is wracked by pain or your mind is spiralling through aches and anguish

When you stop running you will see me

I WILL NOT FORSAKE YOU, I CANNOT ABANDON YOU

YOU ARE NOT ALONE, I AM WITH YOU

Desmond Tutu; "Made for Goodness"

YOU ARE MY CHILD, Desmond Tutu

2010-10-26T21:17:00.000+01:00

YOU ARE MY CHILD, MY BELOVED, WITH YOU I AM WELL PLEASED

STAND BESIDE ME AND SEE YOURSELF, BORROW MY EYES SO YOU CAN SEE PERFECTLY

When you look with my eyes then you will see that the wrong you have done and the good left undone; the words you have said that should not have been spoken; the words you should have spoken but left unsaid; the hurts you have caused, the help you’ve not given

ARE NOT THE WHOLE OF THE STORY OF YOU

You are not defined by what you did not achieve; your worth is not determined by success

You were priceless before you drew your first breath, beautiful before dress or artifice

GOOD AT THE CORE

And now is time for unveiling the goodness that is hidden behind the fear of failing

You shout down your impulse to kindness in case it is shunned, you suck in your smile, you smother your laughter; you hold back the hand that would help

You crush your indignation when you see people wronged or in pain

In case all you can do is not enough; in case you cannot fix the fault; in case you cannot soothe the searing; in case you cannot make it right

What does it matter if you do not make it right? What does it matter if your efforts move no mountains?

IT MATTERS NOT AT ALL

It only matters that you live the truth of you; it only matters that you push back the veil to let your goodness shine through; it only matters that you live as I have made you; it only matters that you are made for me

MADE LIKE ME

MADE FOR GOODNESS

Desmond Tutu; "Made for Goodness"

Desmond Tutu about Dissociation, Torture, Forgiveness and related issues

2010-10-26T21:09:00.000+01:00

A friend passed me Desmond Tutu’s book “Made for Goodness” as she thought I may find it helpful. Desmond Tutu is writing in the context of the “Truth and Reconciliation Commission” hearings into horrific torture carried out by the South African security police in South Africa following the end of Apartheid in South Africa and other suffering he has witnessed including the genocide in Rwanda. He is writing in the context of how he has seen people who’ve experienced the most appalling cruelty and torture make their journeys towards healing and wholeness. Some of what he wrote I found very helpful considering my current circumstances and wrestling with horrendous cruelty and injustice.

“Hidden inside the adult is the child with all her happiness, all her worries and all her unhealed hurts... allow your heart to open and soften toward that child...

Finding our way back to ease inside ourselves, finding our way home to goodness, will be a journey we will have to make often... we slide into habits of thoughts... patterns of behaviour... we constantly stumble over the same stone... time and time again we find ourselves falling over the same failing. We recognise what we have done and consider who we have become. Then we can decide to make the journey home.

We return to ourselves, to our godliness, to wholeness... recognition is the first step of the journey home...

When I have been harmed I need to gather myself up from brokenness... I need to be restored to wholeness...

Each of us is hurt, each of us has hurt. Each of us need to gather ourselves up from brokenness and be restored to wholeness. We need to find our way back to goodness.

When a person endures an extreme or traumatic injury, the brokenness can be expressed as Dissociation... something shattered in the trauma, something that needed to be gathered up, collected, healed.

Few of us have experienced trauma this great. But all of us dissociate in some way when we forget or abandon our innate goodness. In so doing we step away from wholeness. An essential part of us is silenced, denied or ignored. While the quantum of anguish may change, the characteristics stay the same. Whether we endure torture or we face a workplace dispute, we experience harm or suffering.

It is not the fact or the feelings that differ; it is the degree...

Anyone can make the decision to be more mindful of their words and deeds and of their effects. Anyone can choose to cultivate compassion. Anyone can commit themselves to returning ever more speedily to the goodness that is their true home.

In an extraordinary way, we can return to goodness more quickly when we have a clear vision of the present. That clarity about the present is rooted in making peace with the past.

Putting words to our pain begins the process of building that peace. In speaking the truth of our pain, we start to collect the memories of what we have done or experienced. When we retell our stories we can be heard into healing. We can be heard back into healing, heard into wholeness, back to goodness, back home to ourselves.

For the victims to tell their story of what they endured was an opportunity for healing, an opportunity to recover the dignity lost in the terror of torture...

Being heard into healing is a need... it is a basic human need that we all share. If we are lucky or blessed we find people with the gift of presence. These are people who can hear us into healing.

Often people come... not looking for advice or counsel. We don’t have the answer. We don’t have to solve the problem. They just want a listening ear. A listening ear can help people to work out their own wisdom... I just sat, listened, smiled or sighed and nodded. They figured it all out for themselves...

Sometimes it is in sharing how we are affected... that we open the door for another person’s healing. The journey homeward to healing can traverse some rough terrain. When the wounds are large and deep a salve is necessary... forgiveness can be the richest kind of healing balm. Forgiveness is not a form of forgetting. It is rather, a profound form of remembering. When we forgive, we remember who and whose we are. We remember that we are creative beings modelled on a creative God.

When we forgive we reclaim the power to create. We can create a new story for ourselves. When we find the strength to forgive we are no longer victims. We are survivors.

Forgiveness is not only a creative act, it is a liberating action. When we forgive the people who have harmed us, we liberate ourselves from the chains that bind us to our offender... they exert no control over our moods, our disposition, or us. They have no further part in writing the story that we must tell of ourselves. Forgiveness liberates us. We are free...

Finding our way back to goodness is ongoing work. To find our way home we will need a skilled guide. Let us turn into the stillness and listen to God speak with the voice of the heart”

Desmond Tutu; “Made for Goodness”; Chapter 9, Going Home to Goodness; Pages 143-144, 146-150

I've Survived

2010-10-22T15:03:00.001+01:00

I've survived by pretending all was well (a learned behaviour from childhood) when all wasn't well, wearing a false smile when inside my heart was broken, I stayed alive just!

Now I'm being real, being honest, tearing those walls down and saying how it really was and how it really is, there is healing in that.

It is so healing to now be able to be real.

Now I'm learning there's a new way and that's learning to live not just survive, not just exist.

It's such a relief to finally be able to tell the truth, to finally be able to be real!!

BETRAYAL, DEFIANCE, LIES, DENIAL, INJUSTICE, FORGIVENESS ISSUES

2010-10-21T05:47:00.000+01:00

This post is about discussing the issues of forgiveness within the context of abuse. There is no need to define the type of abuse because all forms of abuse cause the same issues and damage. It also discusses forgiveness within the contexts of no confession; no repentance; no admission of fault; betrayal; defiance; lies; denials and injustice.

It is most definitely a discussion. It is not even looking for answers. It is an exploration.

I have no answers, and draw no conclusions as such because this discussion is my very personal journey.

I’m sure there are many who will draw encouragement from this discussion.

I’m also sure there are many who wish I could come up with answers.

To be honest I’m at the very beginning of grappling with this. I’m discussing this because I’m trying to process the most heart wrenching injustice and find a way forward.

I’m also entering into this discussion because I feel there is a need for real honesty concerning this subject. In too many Christian contexts there is a lack of real honesty just simplistic answers which do not allow for processing or honestly asking very deep questions that don’t have easy answers.

Sometimes being a Christian is really hard. It gets hard when gut wrenching life events mean you have to grapple with very deep questions to which there are no easy answers or easy solutions. Neither religious nor simplistic Christianity have any real answers when it comes to these issues.

As a victim of crime and a survivor of the most appalling sexual, physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual and religious abuse I find myself grappling with issues to do with deliberate cruelty, betrayal, lies, denial, play-acting, justice, injustice, defiance and forgiveness.

Forgiveness is hard at the best of times, but is certainly easier if the person admits their fault, confesses and repents, maybe even apologises.

Forgiveness becomes virtually impossible when the guilty are faced with the truth, faced with the legal consequences, but do not respond with humility but with defiance, denials, play-acting and lies. By doing so they evaded justice. By doing so they evaded exposure of their crimes. By doing so they stuck 2-fingers in front of my face and in front of the face of God. By doing so they showed no comprehension of the way their actions, lies and denials when confronted with the truth tore my life apart.

I’m left wondering how on earth can I forgive when my abusers deny any wrongdoing, carry on their lives hard faced, glorying in their win, going about as if cruelty is normal and as if it is normal to have nothing to do with your daughter?

I’m also left wondering how God who hates injustice can allow such injustice to happen on top of all the injustices of all the other abuses. I’m left feeling that my life is just injustice piled on injustice until there is nothing left but injustice and devastation.

And so I’m left wondering how to move on.

I think there are layers of forgiveness, just as there are layers of guilt, grief, shock, bewilderment, disbelief – and any other human emotion you can think of. I think there are varying levels of forgiveness too.

To forgive is a choice but is the hardest choice to make in the face of bare faced defiance.

When someone receives your forgiveness that enables possibility of closure. But when all you have is defiance, denials and lies how can true forgiveness happen. There can be no real closure in such a situation, there will always be unfinished business.

People say it doesn’t matter if someone won’t or doesn’t receive your forgiveness, but actually it makes a huge difference and contextually it really does matter. I feel that opinion is too simplistic.

Without true confession and repentance the affect of their sin upon you cannot be nullified. The truth is without true confession and repentance there is no closure.

Forgiveness is a process, a journey and not necessarily a destination. It does help to keep speaking their name and saying I forgive you. Doing that over time it is possible to feel more compassionately towards the person who wronged you. But where there is only defiance and lies there is no justice, justice enables a move towards closure. Injustice leaves unfinished business and no closure.

Speaking the truth of what they did helps to put the blame and guilt where it lies and that is on the shoulders of the person who did the wrong not on the person who is struggling to forgive and honestly grappling with the hurt and lack of closure.

It’s very difficult in this situation to let go of them and leave them to God. When you’ve trusted God to bring justice and closure but instead you’re faced with defiance and injustice, it’s really hard to keep believing in a God of justice.

It’s simplistic to say just let go of the anger and the pain. Those are emotions that need processing not just denial. Getting beyond the hurt and pain is a process not just a one-time event in these situations. I think the same is true when it comes to real forgiveness in these situations too.

If only I had the love and compassion Jesus had. In a sense it was easy for HIM, HE gave up all HE had in heaven to come to this earth and bridge the gap between God and humans. HE knew HIS Father’s heart so well. HE was secure in HIS Father’s love and at one with HIM.

I'm an incredibly hurt insecure human being who, who struggles to trust, but who is also in relationship with God through Jesus but does not have that same level of complete trust in God Jesus had. I so wish I could be like Jesus, but I can only be me discussing with HIM how to see and understand HIS perspective on the unique situation I find myself in.

The other thing about Jesus is so many Christians have said HE forgave HIS tormentors and murderers from the cross. I’m not all that sure I agree with that. That is because what HE actually said from the cross was – “Father forgive them..."

That prayer Jesus uttered from the cross is something I keep coming back to over and over again. There is something very profound in those 3 words and something to learn from them. There is a reason why Jesus did not say “I forgive them” but rather “Father forgive them” - it's as if Jesus Himself really grappled with forgiving the people who were doing such dreadful things to HIM and actually struggled with it Himself and in HIS love and compassion in the end Jesus passed it on to HIS Father to do the forgiving because in HIS humanity it was too big and too hard for HIM to deal with – that’s my thoughts on that scripture.

Some have told me to let God take care of the offender because God is just. In itself that is a true statement but also minimises the process and can be perceived as extremely simplistic.

God says “vengeance is mine, I will repay” When you’ve trusted the leading of God through the legal process but am left with defiance and injustice at the end of that process, it makes it very hard to take God at HIS word because that trust and belief has been seriously undermined and shaken by the injustice and end result.

The real truth of real forgiveness goes way past simplistic statements. It takes you deep into the depths of your own broken heart and the depths of God’s heart of love and compassion. As those two collide a conversation takes place at a very deep level of understanding. It doesn’t always provide a straight forward solution or relief. Again we’re talking process, not one time events. The conversation takes place at different levels within both hearts. I think there’s a certain amount of going backwards and forwards and round and round during that conversation.

It's very hard when people are deliberately and defiantly non repentant and hard faced - turning up in church as if nothing is wrong and nothing has happened. Having to cope with your abusers turning up in church whilst deliberately sticking 2 fingers up at God is beyond the capacity of describe. Having to cope with your abusers continuing to use the church as their cover story is beyond awful and beyond hypocrisy. Having them do all of that on that back of having lied and denied to prevent justice and to prevent exposure is disgusting and distasteful at the very least. It is utterly appalling for me as a victim, for those who gave evidence against them to the police and for the church leadership who now know the truth about them. It’s totally ghastly and repulsive to be brutally honest.

It is as if they have no conscience at all. Sometimes when people have lied and denied for long enough they actually believe their lies and denials to be absolute truth regardless of evidence to the contrary. Thus they worm their way out of it and can be incredibly and frighteningly convincing in their true lies.

There is freedom in forgiveness – I read this definition of –

“Forgiveness is not about forgetting, it is about letting go of the other person’s throat”

(The Shack, p.224)

I found that to be a very helpful analogy. When you’ve suffered terrible deliberate systematic cruelty for many years it is EXTREMELY HARD TO FORGIVE, NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY. SOMETIMES ALL YOU CAN DO IS TO TAKE YOUR HANDS FROM AROUND THEIR NECKS, FROM AROUND THEIR THROATS. ACTUALLY BEING ABLE TO DO THAT IS SO HARD.

I SENSE THAT GETTING TO THE POINT WHERE YOU CAN ACTUALLY DO THAT IS A PROCESS AS WELL AS A CHOICE.

Without confession, repentance, admission of guilt or other things which lead to closure surely it will always be there at the back of your mind. Having to watch your abusers behaving as if nothing untoward happened and all is normal fuels the fire. When people have been so deliberately cruel to you and are so defiant when faced with the truth where can you go? How can such defiance be coped with, processed and gotten out of your mind. It is in reality and in all truth extremely difficult. It’s almost impossible to forgive cruel people who lie, pretend all is normal and do all they can legally to silence you and keep their evil deeds secret.

I am talking here of real tough issues of life and faith where there are no easy answers. Forgiving wanton cruelty in the face of total defiance and lies is virtually impossible.

A friend of mine said to me regarding these issues – “I feel people are mistaking "justice" for "revenge". Needing justice is not to be revengeful. It's about needing people to repent and face the truth of their crimes, and in an ideal world, ask for the person they abused, to forgive them and face their punishment by law with humility. Unfortunately we do not live in an ideal world and that is what is difficult to deal with. We need prayers and more support for the abused and bullied and for it not to be acceptable in our society any more. It is as hard to deal with others reaction towards abuse (or in my case Domestic Violence), they prefer to "turn a blind eye", which is equally as abusive. I guess there is no answer to how to get over it and move on, when it has affected you so much. Fix your eyes on Jesus Fi.
”

I found that incredibly helpful because as said earlier when people do not repent when faced with the lawful consequences of their actions and evade accountability, justice and exposure it makes it so much harder to deal with - I don't think these things can even be got over but rather be processed so it's possible to live with such awful, disgraceful, distasteful, disgusting truth somehow!!

I think there are some things that happen to us in life that are so awful we'll never "get over" them as such, but instead process them in order to be able live with the truth of what happened and the consequences - I think the term "getting over" is simplistic when faced with real gut wrenching heart breaking life events!

A friend give me the following excerpt from a memoir called “Battle for a Broken Heart: Recovering From Incest and Child Abuse” written by Nicholas Meadows. The excerpt was written to his mother, the person who had abused him and whom he was struggling to forgive.

“I know I need to forgive you. When I think about forgiving you, I get... scared. I think that if I forgive you, then I am saying everything is okay. Mom keeps telling me that forgiveness is not the same as excusing, or forgetting. She says that forgiving is letting go of the hatred and trusting that God will do what is best. She says that forgiving is giving up any thoughts of revenge, or "I hope you burn in hell" ideas. I don't have any thoughts of revenge and I don't hope you burn in hell; it's just that I don't want to see you in heaven either. Mom tells me that in heaven, I will love everyone and everyone will love me, since heaven is perfect. I don't understand how I could possibly love you if I still remember what you did to me. I know that Jesus was tortured and killed because of us, yet HE still loves us. I guess if I had the kind of love that Jesus does, then maybe I would view you differently, but as of now I don't want to love you. I did that once and it cost me way too much. I do want to forgive you though, because I want to be completely free to move on. I don't want these feelings that tie my stomach into knots anymore. I am praying that God will "Create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me." (Psalms 51:10) I guess that at this point all I can truthfully say is that I want to forgive you, and I am trying to be the most loving person I can be. I pray that God will answer my prayer and give me a heart that can forgive and love as HE does.”

I found that really helpful because it really captured the conflicting thoughts and feelings involved in honestly grappling with these issues.

I know I will carry not only the abuse I experienced but this appalling injustice inside me for the rest of my life and will have to process in order to be able to live with it.

For me the sticking point is how do I find a way through the maze of hurt and out the other side of it - how do I process all that - I would like to be able to forgive, but right now I’m hurting so much it’s very hard just to process through the heart wrenching, gut churning agony.

My shattered heart wants to be able to forgive but doesn't even know where to begin.

But the more I write, the more I speak out, the more I'm honest about how darned hard this is, the more freedom I find in expressing what to begin with feels to be “the inexpressible”.

I guess the only way forward is to stay open, to stay honest and to stay leaning on the safe people in my life, Safe Daddy and Big Bruvver instead of closing up and turning the hurt inwards. And in so doing draw support and encouragement for the journey one baby step at a time!

SPIRITUAL + RELIGIOUS ABUSE

2010-10-18T17:43:00.000+01:00

Please note this article is not about church bashing nor is it about Christian bashing. It is an exploration of a very painful, difficult, and for some people, an exceedingly touchy subject. It’s a subject which has caused me, and many other abuse survivors enormous anguish.

When speaking about this subject I have the same feelings I have when writing about the abuse and torture I endured. Spiritual abuse is a massive issue. It’s one nobody wants to talk about or admit exists because of issues of disloyalty and all the crap feelings that go with that. Just the same as twenty/thirty years ago no one wanted to talk about child abuse or admit it happened, but it did. Same with spiritual abuse, it happens more than anyone wants to admit or accept and no one really wants to acknowledge it or address it on a meaningful level. In writing about this topic I struggle with the issues that one shouldn't speak 'ill' or badly about the Christian family, same as one shouldn't speak 'ill' or bad about one's own biological family. There is just as much shame and guilt when exploring this issue.

That shows that spiritual abuse is still abuse - which in turn underlines the real nature of abuse.

Abuse is abuse whether it is spiritual, physical, sexual, emotional or psychological.

Abuse is about control and manipulation. Whether is controlling your behaviour and belief system, manipulating your emotions; manipulating you to do and be what you are are expected to; brainwashing you to believe only certain things or just keeping you in a place where you are not free to be who and what you really are.
Abuse is abuse is abuse! Abuse of any kind is damaging and evil, whichever guise it takes.

Church was part of the fabric of my childhood; as much a fabric of it as the witchcraft, satanic rituals, superstitious belief system, the abuse and the torture. Life without church was for much of my life an utterly unthinkable concept. As a family we were in church twice every Sunday. We were at every important ‘religious’ event in the calendar and all church social occasions and meetings too. We played the ‘happy family’ deception every single time.

If that wasn’t enough religion I went to a church school which was half Protestant/half Roman Catholic. There was a physical barrier in the school which separated off the two religions and the two did not meet. Within that school I witnessed abuse being used to separate people. I also witnessed physical punishment for the most minor offences in the name of religion. This taught me that God was “the big man in the sky who saw all, heard all and knew all, who had a very big stick and was ready to pounce on you at the slightest misdemeanour and beat you with it”. You had to keep his rules and regulations and do good things but even then you could never be sure if you really pleased the big man in the sky with the big stick. The notion of a loving God was totally absent from my childhood and adulthood up until around my thirties.

I was abused with the bible. By saying that I mean I was beaten with passages from the bible as much as I was by my abusers’ fists, feet and mouths. My abusers used passages from the bible as they beat me to explain/excuse why they had to treat me like that. I deserved it because the bible said so... because the bible tells parents to hit their children... spare not the rod! My abusers also made me learn parts of the bible. If I could not recite them word for word on request a beating followed. I had a bit of a love hate relationship with the bible but still thought there was something in some of the stuff I read.

You’d think after a childhood so filled with religion I’d reject religion altogether. Well, yes and no. I was always a questioning child – something my mother detested and tried to beat and belittle out of me.

But deep inside that child always felt there was something in Christianity beyond what she’d experienced. Inside she was seeking answers. Inside as she began to go through her teen years into young adulthood she had friends at church who were not ‘religious’ but talked about God loving them and of being in a relationship with God. This was new and a huge departure from the rules, regulations and good ‘works’ kind of religion I’d grown up with.

In the end I decided to give God a try and remember 3 days before my 15th birthday, 15th Feb 1981, lying in bed after being abused saying to God in the total blackness that was my life “if you’re out there and if you love me and aren’t out just to punish and beat me, I could use a friend, so come and be my friend – oh and please stop the abuse.”

Something changed inside me that day, I knew I’d found what I’d been searching for. BUT the abuse continued for another 5 years. That was so hard. God has spoken with me over the last couple of years about how HE gives people free will and cannot over-ride that free will. My abusers chose to abuse me instead of love and accept me as HE wanted them to. Many times God pleaded with my abusers to change their attitudes and actions towards me and stop the mistreatment but they ignored HIM and carried on. I still struggle with the issue of free will, but it is true we all make choices for good or evil and we all reap the consequences of those choices.

I tried to tell the leaders of the church things weren’t right at home, all was not as it seemed with my parents. I was dismissively told to “not speak bad about them, they were upstanding members of the church and pillars of the community and I should respect them, not speak ill about them” and was told “if I had nothing good to say about my parents they didn’t want to hear it and to keep my mouth shut, be a good Christian, do what the bible says, respect your parents”. The church and church leaders failed me and blamed me for being bad for speaking evil about my parents/family.

After being forcibly ejected from the family home, left for dead and disowned I was left alone with only God for company. During the following three years HE gave me some friends from work and church who put me up and helped me get places to live when I found myself in tight spots.

For my own safety at the age of 23 I left my hometown and moved to the other end of the country. Once there I found a Baptist church which was similar to the Anglican church I’d known up north. People were very accepting but again I found a diet of religion and religious solutions which didn’t satisfy the longings in my heart and the searching of my heart. People were accepting of me but didn’t really know what to do with someone who was so damaged, so relationally impaired. Simplistic answers didn’t cut with me nor did ‘religious’ solutions, there was still something missing. They talked about healing of the memories, laid hands on me and prayed for me several times, but nothing happened.

After 6 years I went to help out at a Christian event called “Spring Harvest” and had a very powerful encounter with God there. The encounter was so powerful that it changed my entire concept and understanding of God, Christianity and the bible. I returned from that very different inside.

I was so different in fact that I found myself clashing with ‘religious’ platitudes and religious way of doing things which didn’t really address the deep issues of the heart and the deep questions inside. I could no longer tolerate those things. I could no longer tolerate religion or religious Christians. That was the beginning of me turning my back on religion, the traditional ‘church’, but not on God.

At the same time I went to see the Pastor of the church because I knew of two people in the church who worked for an organisation I did voluntary work for who were embezzling finances from that organisation. I was told to stop my lies. There was no way those people would be doing anything like that. As a result I had to leave the church. It was several years later that the dealings of those people were revealed in the local papers and one of them did jail time. I was vindicated but it still left a bad taste in my mouth. Again the church, or leadership in the church, had failed to listen to me, had failed to deal with bad goings on within and I’d been the ‘fall guy’ again.

Throughout all this I was getting to know God through Jesus and discovering that HIS heart is full of love which I could not accept or receive because surely HE could not accept someone as bad and as wounded as me.

I moved on from the Baptist church to another much smaller ‘Pentecostal’ church. By then I was having serious depression and mental health problems.

At first I was accepted with open arms by people in the church. People in this church appeared to be very loving and everyone hugged one another. That was new to me and very scary. I don’t like touch although I crave it too. No one asked me if I wanted a hug just inflicted hugs on me. I got used to that over time. Sometimes I enjoyed the hugs and they were quite healing, depending on the person hugging of course, but sometimes the hugs were shallow. I’m very good at recognising the difference between the genuine and the false. Those were the hugs I disliked the most. Initially the church and some people in it seemed to have what I was looking for - hope and a relationship with Jesus that brought real healing and acceptance.

But again, once people got to know me and realised I was actually extremely depressed, badly relationally impaired and needed a lot of help and healing things changed. The pastor’s wife informed me that “I couldn’t possibly be a really Christian and be so depressed; I had to repent of my sin for being depressed; I had to repent of not accepting the healing Jesus had got for me at the cross; I had to tell those bad feelings/thoughts to go away. I was making a choice to be depressed. If I was a Christian I was a new creation so all the bad from the past had been dealt with at the cross... I had to forgive those who’d hurt me, forget and move on... I had read my bible more... pray more... do this... do that...”

But none of that worked for me. None of it helped with the trauma, fear and damage in the depths of me. I left that church feeling a failure, feeling I hadn’t been good enough, feeling that the huggy lovey dovey style of the church was a false front. In reality they had no theology or acceptance for people who were real Christians but had real damage in their lives which needed real answers and real healing not platitudes, finger pointing and blame shifting. I had enough of that in the abusive home I grew up in and didn’t need it from ‘the church’.

So I left and went to another church and another and another. In each one I was initially welcomed but a pattern emerged of being initially welcomed until my brokenness became apparent. When it became obvious how damaged and relationally impaired I was I heard the same “new creation stuff over and over... forgive and forget over and over”. I found some people within these churches who knew Jesus like I did and were genuine in their love for HIM but no one had any real answers for me. I just heard the same old superficial religious answers and platitudes which didn’t help. In the end I could never conform to their image of what a Christian should say, be or do.

The penultimate church I tried was a really big church. My administrative abilities were recognised and after being there a few months I found myself working voluntarily for over 2 years as PA to the head of the pastoral team. But after a while I was informed that the leadership had stated that although I wore a pastoral team badge at services on Sunday mornings “I was not allowed to pray with anyone because I was such a mess.” That hurt me more than anyone will know. When the person decided to stop heading up the pastoral team I had meetings with the church leadership.

They wanted to use my administrative abilities but only if I could meet their demands on how I spoke, behaved etc. They could not accept the ‘ME’ that I was. They were not offering me any kind of support or help with healing, just the same old unhelpful, patronising, simplistic platitudes which didn’t satisfy, help or encourage. All they did was tear me down and blame me for being the mess I was. They could not accept the package that was ‘ME’. They wanted my abilities as an administrator but not the person who came with them. I decided that was an intolerable and unsustainable situation and walked away from that church with a broken heart.

I tried another after that and came across some really genuine Christians but again very simplistic solutions and platitudes which didn’t really help. In the end I had to completely walk away from ‘the church’.

I could not conform. I could and can only be me. The real ‘me’ is damaged and needs accepting, help and healing.

I never found that in any church I tried. So many Christians when they realised how wounded and damaged, totally relationally impaired and untrusting I was and yet I purported to be a Christian and to love Jesus – fingers pointed, the ’should’ words began to be spoken and it was turned on me that it was my fault I was so screwed up. That caused so much hurt and added to my confusion and left me with so many questions.

But whatever happened, I could never give up on God. I could never give up on Jesus because what I had with them was real. What I had with them was healing. What I had with them was so special.

In the end I walked away from ‘the church’. I stopped looking to ‘the church’. I stopped looking to people and walked straight into the arms of Jesus. I have ‘Christian’ friends who’ve raised their eyebrows at the fact that I’ve not been in church for nearly three years. Some even suggested I’m falling away or backsliding or even rebelling against God and the bible and have quoted the parts of the bible that tell you not to stop meeting together with other Christians.

The hardest thing for me has been that the so called ‘church family’ rejected me, blamed me and abused me and rejected me just as much as my biological family.
I’ve had to redefine ‘church’. ‘Church’ is actually about the gathering of people together in the name of Jesus. That can happen anywhere, including in the home and on the internet. Two Christians having coffee together and discussing what God’s been doing in their lives is actually ‘church’ in its most basic form.

Although I’ve not physically been inside a ‘church’ building for nearly 3 years except for several funerals I’ve actually connected with many Christians across the world over the internet, through a Christian chat room and more generally. My ‘church family’ is in my laptop. In some ways this is really good for someone so relationally impaired. I find it much easier to have relationships with people through the anonymity of a computer screen, over distance, where there are not the same trust issues than in physical relationships. There are still trust issues but at a different level.

My experience of ‘church’ and religious abuse has left me with many questions.
Why is it that so many Christians don’t get that you can be a Christian and be in such a mess. Why is that?

Instead of coming alongside me, giving me space to tell my story and helping, it was oh just forgive, forget, move on, it happened so long ago, stop harping on about it, stop dragging it up from the past. WHY IS THAT? How can I ever forget 20 years of abuse and torture? It may have happened a long time ago, but I live with it every minute I’m awake and then in my nightmares when I do sleep. For me it’s not in the past but very much in the present.

How can I forgive when my abusers deny anything ever happened? How can I forgive when my abusers say anything bad that ‘might’ have happened was because I such a bad person, they did nothing wrong?

Why are churches and so many Christians so closed minded about the realities of living with past sexual abuse? Why are churches and so many Christians so closed minded about the realities of the deep damage of childhood abuse and the complexities of the healing processes? Why do so many churches have systems in place to prevent abuse happening, but provide little or no support to REALLY help victims heal? Why is it that so many Christians tell you that as you are a Christian, you are a new person so your past is gone, so all the stuff from your past abuse should be gone too?

Why is it that so many Christians tell you that you are doing something wrong if you aren’t healing from the damage of the abuse or if you don’t have joy etc? Why do so many Christians tell you that if you read your bible enough and pray enough you should be fine? Thereby implying that you cannot be reading your bible or praying enough because you are a screwed up mess!

Why is it that so many Christians think you don’t need counselling or anything; you just need to get over it, forgive your abusers and forget it? WHY IS THAT?”

One of the hardest things I found in church was the use of language. Calling God ‘Father’ is a huge trigger for me. It’s taken me a long time to be able to relate to God as my Safe Daddy. Talking about having secret places is bad for me too. I understand about the secret place of time alone with God, but talking about secrets and secret places are huge triggers for me. There is so much language used in church which can be triggers.

Many times over the years I heard so much talk about being family but noticed over and over that Christians are no different to people outside the church – they look after their own – all the talk about being family I saw over and over was very shallow. Rarely was I invited to lunch after church. At important times of the year such as Easter, Christmas, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day etc, again very rare invites to lunch or meals. All the talk about being ‘family’ was so superficial. In reality I was very alone.

Going home from church, seeing so many of the rest of my friends at church going home to be with friends and family, and hearing them talk about their plans to do so increased my sense of isolation of having none to eat Sunday lunch with. It was hard to fight the feelings of jealousy I felt too. So often I left church feeling isolated and suicidal because of all those memories and all that pain. In the end I stopped going to church to avoid going through that pain each week.

I had another issue with going to church, or rather leaving church. The hardest thing in going to church for me was leaving church afterwards and heading home. That always sent me into a depression. I couldn’t handle it because deep inside I was reminded that as child going home from church meant walking back into hell. It meant going home to punishment beatings. It meant going home to the isolation of being in that hell hole of a home with none to come to my rescue.

Why is it that all these years later going home from church should trigger so much painful stuff, that now I cannot face going to church because I just cannot face that pain of going home from church alone anymore? Why is it that church is full of so many Christians who are simply not honest about the real struggles so many of us face in our attempts to survive and deal with the damage caused by our past abuse?

Why is it that church is the one place I avoid because I know I don’t fit people’s ideals as to what being a Christian should be?

Why is it that church is the one place that I avoid simply because I cannot face the questions and the ‘should’ statements anymore?

The truth is that over and over I've been accepted up to a point. That point is always when I could no longer dodge the questions about who are you? where are you from? who are your family? where do they live? Etc. That's when people started to get to know 'ME' and discovered I don't fit into their neat little box of 'how a Christian should be'. I don't have a nice. I am seriously relationally impaired and don't let people close, I cannot trust easily, it takes a lot for me to trust someone and let me get to know and see the real me.

Why is it that so many Christians are blind to the work that God is doing in my life because I’m not healing in the way or at the pace that they think I ‘should’ be? Why is it that I walk so closely with Jesus because I have to, I would not be alive if I didn’t, and yet feel such a misfit when I do summon up the courage to go to church?

I hate religion, hypocrisy and pretension, my childhood was full of that. I am real and really want to engage on a deep level with the issues which really matter. I realise many Christians I've met haven’t had to wrestle with the real deep gut wrenching issues of life and have an unrealistic simplistic theology which doesn’t give much acceptance or room for those of us who belong to Jesus but have huge mental health issues.

Most have been very simplistic about the abuse in my childhood saying you should just forgive, forget and move on which is totally unrealistic. I’m seriously allergic to religious and simplistic Christians.

My life has been devastated by the trauma and sustained terror I endured during the first 20 years of my life. I was so violated that I feel tainted to the core by those violations. It is because of these things and the deep need inside me to find real answers, real hope, real healing that has driven me to keep seeking and not quit until I found the answers. The damage is so deep and so complex that there are no simple answers and no simple solutions. The wonderful thing is that God has now brought some wonderful professional experienced amazing women into my life who are all giving me hope and walking alongside me, believing in me.

My heart was broken twice over, once by my birth family and second by the “church family”.

Thankfully I now have a small handful of Christian friends who see the real me who underneath that fake smile so desperately wants to heal. Thank you to all of you who are supporting me in my journey. Thank you for walking alongside me and praying for me, even though you may not always understand what is going on. You are slowly and surely restoring my trust and showing me the love and compassion of my SAFE DADDY.

It’s wonderful I have a voice now through my blogs. I love how God is connecting me with so many survivors over the internet and through the wonderful community which is the “Emerging From Broken” blog.

I discovered the 'churches' I went to and the ‘leaders’ in them wanted my abilities but didn't want me unless I conformed to their image of how to be, how to speak, how to act, even what to believe. They couldn’t accept the package that I was, that I am. Some wouldn’t even accept I could possibly be a ‘real’ Christian because of what the package looked like.

Now I have about a dozen Christian friends as well as other online ones who are supportive of me, understanding where I've come from and where I'm going and who can see Jesus in me and the work that HE is doing. I had coffee with one such friend recently. She said something to me which blew me away - she said "I was excited about seeing you and being with you because spiritually you carry something very special." It's good to remind myself of what she said!!

Sometimes there are no words beyond those that build someone up. Sometimes all that is required is for people to walk alongside someone, observe and pray and see the real “ME” beneath my fake smile. That friend is one of those people and I value her immensely, thank you for saying that to me.

That comment was very special because as I mentioned earlier some ‘Christian’ friends/acquaintances‘ have raised their eyebrows that I’ve not been inside a church for nearly three years now, apart from weddings and funerals. Some would call me a nominal Christian, even a backslider for that. Others have suggested I’m disobeying the bible by not going to church. But they are not the people who really know me.

I felt that point needed repeating because it is so easy to judge without having all the facts and being blind to what God is doing in someone’s life because their walk with God is unconventional and does not meet with your theology or understanding of how a Christian should be thus disapproval is felt or even communicated and causes more damage.

Those who do know the real ‘ME’ know that I have a very deep and close personal relationship with Jesus, my BIG BRUVVER and God, my SAFE DADDY. They are the people who can see and sense HIS work in my life, HIS hand on my life and HIS leading and supporting of me. The frank truth is that for many reasons going to church and dealing with church life is just too difficult and too painful.

That statement is a very sad indictment of the state of ‘the church’ that I, and many others like me who’ve survived horrific abuse, have not found real answers in ‘the church’ and been rejected and treated the same way.

It saddens me deeply to make such a statement but it is the truth as I have experienced it.

There are some good churches. I know of survivors who’ve had great experiences with churches and Christians, but sadly there are many more who haven’t.

This article is written to encourage those survivors whose experiences of ‘church’, ‘Christians’ and ‘Christianity’ have been negative, painful and in many cases downright abusive. I want you to know you are not alone although you may feel very isolated and misunderstood.

This article is also written to bring this painful subject out into the open because it needs to be. I mean no one any harm with this article. There is no malice in my writing. I write with immense sadness in my heart.

It deeply saddens me that many have given up on God because of their experiences because I know HIS love for you is undiminished and it grieves HIM even more than it grieves me or anyone else who’s been rejected by ‘the church and ‘Christians.’

I’ve written this article because I choose to bring this subject out into the open.

I’ve brought this subject into the open because I choose to speak the truth and to live in the truth.

The truth is the spiritual abuse I’ve experienced has damaged and confused me at very deep levels, and there are many other survivors around the world who have had similar experiences.

MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY

2010-10-17T21:16:00.000+01:00

My entire Autobiography is now published online on my autobiographical blog, "From Chrysalis to Beautiful Butterfly".

It is the true story of my life in 13 chapters.

It is in part a harrowing read but it is the TRUTH of the horror that was the first 20 years of my life.

I'm avoiding the word 'story' because although it is my life's story, the word 'story' gives an impression of something being made up.

I can assure you that I've not made any of it up. Instead I've so often wanted to change history and wished it wasn't true.

I've also deliberately underplayed the true horror.

I've tried to give enough detail so the reader has a clear picture of what truly happened while avoiding gratuitous details along the way.

My Autobiography tells of the abuse and torture I endured.

It tells of my struggles to cope and stay alive during the 24 years which have passed since being forcibly ejected from the family home and disowned.

It tells of my fight to get past religion and discover that God is very loving and accepting and is not a big man with a beard and a big stick ready to pounce on you and beat you when you step out of line.

It tells of my relationship with God, tentative at times, but also the strength of my life and the reason for me living.

It tells of God's love for me and of God's healing. It tells of God's encouragement and support which has kept me alive, given my life purpose and restored my dignity.

It tells of how God has given me the strength to stay alive and how HE gave me reasons to live. It tells of how God gave me the strength and courage to stop running from my past and begin to face the true horror I'd survived.

It also tells of how I came to expose my abusers to the police and what resulted from that.

It tells of devastation, betrayal, terrible acts of violation but also the restoration of hope through God's work in my heart.

It tells that it is possible to start over, however tentatively.

It tells that it is possible to begin to trust.

It tells that it is possible to face the truth without being consumed by the horror of it.

It tells of a life which was so nearly destroyed but now something beautiful is arising out of the ashes of the despair, depression and horror that has kept me imprisoned all these years.

It will bring you completely up to date with what's going on and what I'm trying to process at the moment. I've begun a 14th chapter, but that is in very early stages.

To read my autobiography please go to.

http://fromchrysalistobeautifulbutterfly.blogspot.com/

If anyone knows how to go about publishing a book without spending a lot of money I'd love to hear from you.

GRIEF AND ABUSE

2010-10-14T21:10:00.005+01:00

When I began writing about my abuse and my healing journey I never thought I’d find myself writing about grief. Grief was not something I would hitherto have equated with childhood abuse.

But the events of the last few months have enabled me to rediscover the ability to cry which I lost very early on childhood. As that has happened I’ve come face to face with grief, deep grief, grief that goes way beyond words. The grief does not appear to be static, there seems to be several layers to it.

Initially my thoughts about grief were in relation to the context of grieving for the things I never had. I feel all my life that I've been silently bleeding away inside grieving for that childhood I never had. Grieving for that love and acceptance I never received. Grieving for all I never had as part of a "normal" childhood.

When I think of some of the things I could have had in a normal childhood:-
Play and exploring
Having fun
Having dreams and hopes
Being care free
Having friends
Home being a safe place
Warmth, love and acceptance
Validation
A family, belonging, fitting in
Being safe in my own bed
Someone to show me how to use makeup, affirm my femininity and take me shopping
Someone to teach me about money and how to budget
Having a future
The basic things of life such as being able to cook, including understanding nutrition and healthy eating; how to launder and repair clothes

Then there is also the grief over what did happen and what I lost as a result. I lost among other things:-
the ability to trust and form relationships
my childhood
my security
my innocence
my virginity and sexuality
my femininity
my dignity
my self worth
my ability to play and be creative
my identity
my family, belonging
the ability to be and to feel safe and secure
hopes and dreams
... and so many other things

Now I additionally have the grief of the legal case being dropped against my abusers too. This includes the grief of:-
Not having the opportunity to have my 6 hours of evidence - my voice – heard by 12 members of a jury
Having the prospect of the possibility of a “guilty verdict” being ripped away from me
Seeing my abusers stood up to and told in no uncertain terms that what they did was wrong
Losing the possibility of gaining justice for me the adult and for the little traumatised girl inside of me
Not seeing my abusers exposed
Having the prospect of ever being able to be compensated for the damage done to me and the financial losses I’ve incurred throughout my life because of the long term effects of the abuse and torture ripped away from me too by the dropping of the case
Yet another injustice to deal with along with all the other injustices I experienced through the abuse
More trauma and more betrayal to have to work through
The sheer unfairness of it all

Justice was not a lot to ask for! For the truth to come out was also not a lot to ask for! For my abusers to be exposed was not a lot to ask for!

After all I've gone through in life! After all I went through making that disclosure to the police. After all I went through in giving evidence for 6 long hours! That evidence will never be heard now and that hurts more than I can say.

There are no words for what I feel! There are no words that can comfort or offer any kind of explanation! All I am left with is total devastation, disillusionment and bewilderment!

My life has been completely torn apart by the dropping of the case and by how that news was broken to me. I really don’t know how I’m going to get over it.

Somehow I’m going to have to navigate my way through all this grief piled on grief. I'd never have thought of having to go through grieving processes in relation to abuse. But as I’ve explored it I’ve realised that it was good to look more closely at it.

Now as tears pour out of me after a lifetime of not crying, I realise some of the tears are that grief as well as tears of shock, bewilderment and disbelief. Many of my tears have been stored inside of me for 30, maybe 35 years. It’s easy to feel that once those tears are allowed to surface I will drown in them, for there are so many to come out.

But just as there are layers of grief, layers of anger, layers of remembering, so I should imagine there are layers of tears too.

14/10/10

WOW, DID I REALLY WRITE THAT?

2010-10-10T18:03:00.001+01:00

I wrote the following comment on the “Emerging from Broken” Blog. When I saw my words quoted by the blog author on their Facebook page and read afresh what I’d written I sat and thought “wow, did I really write that?”

I guess when you’re a writer you write stuff and sometimes don’t realise just what you’ve written and how powerful and impactful it was.

So I decided to quote myself here. Hopefully it will help me to realise that yes I did write that and that is how I really feel underneath all the gunk and trauma that’s going on.

"Now all these years later I'm telling and I'm coming alive inside, and it's an amazing feeling!! There is now hope inside of me instead of despair. There is now light inside me instead of blackness. Yes I'm glad I'm still here - and I never ever thought I'd ever say that!!"

I am very slowly gaining strength, hope and comfort and feeling less alone because of telling on my blog sites and also through being part of the “Emerging From Broken” blog commmunity. I am beginning to dream of one day walking out of the darkness into brighter days. Bright days when the sun isn’t chased away or hidden by the black clouds of my childhood.

KEY TO FREEDOM

2010-10-10T16:04:00.001+01:00

I came across the following quote on Emerging From Broken’s Facebook page earlier. As soon as I read it I knew it was one to add to this blog. It is very powerful and the more I read it the more I realise just how powerful.

Maybe the more I read it, one day I will believe it for myself!

“The key to freedom is not in understanding why other people didn't take care of us, or why we were emotionally, physically or sexually abused; The key (well at least one key) is in understanding that we were powerless and that we are not who "they" say we are.”

Darlene Ouimet ~ Emerging from Broken

REACTIONS

2010-10-09T20:42:00.002+01:00

It’s been two weeks since the phone call that ripped my world apart, the cold clinical call which informed me the CPS had dropped the legal case against my abusers for, at best very tenuous reasons, at worst totally crap indefensible reasons.

During that time I’ve been in very deep shock. I’ve never known shock like it. I’ve never been so broken in my life. I’ve never known such bewilderment. I’m still shaking my head. I’m still finding it virtually impossible to take in. I feel like life will never be ok again.

In order to express my feelings of helplessness, anger and to get my story “out” I wrote and published the 5-part mini series in which I told the story of all that has happened during the last few months from deciding to disclose, right through the process to the case being dropped by the CPS. It was so liberating to finally be able to stop the secrets, stop guarding my words and just say it as it was, say it as it happened. It’s so liberating because the real me is naturally honest and transparent. Over the years I’ve hated having to watch what I say for fear of not being believed and of being thought of as crazy. I feel like I’ve been living a lie all these years and to now be able to speak freely is so wonderful, I struggle to find words for how good it feels.

Following publishing the mini series I had so many comments expressing shock and horror at what had happened along with comments about how strong, brave and dignified I’d shown myself to be and how inspired people are by me and by my honesty.

As word has spread I’ve been totally overwhelmed by messages of devastation, shock, disbelief, support, love, encouragement, validation and solidarity from across the world.

All my life I’ve felt so alone with the hurt and the secrets. I’ve been so physically alone ever since I was disowned. But now I’m realising I’m not alone. I’m realising I’ve been believed by many people, including the police and many professional people. Not only have I been believed by these people, but they also believe IN ME. So many of them have said to me “I can see and hear the survivor in you.”

On top of all that I’ve found out who my true safe friends are. I have several friends now who know the truth, fully believe me, are fully supportive and are believing in me to find my way through and out the other side of all this stuff.

Additionally I’m also discovering there were people in my childhood who knew I was being badly mistreated and who are fully supportive of me now. I do not blame them for not going to the authorities with their suspicions all those years ago. Society was very different in the 1970’s and early 1980’s.

I’ve discovered that I spoke to the wrong people in the church when I was a child and tried to say things were wrong at home. All my life I’ve wondered if these people were taken in by my abusers’ lies and thought as badly about me as I assumed they did from the lies my abusers’ spoke about me when asked anything about me. Now I know they were not taken in by my abusers. Now I know they knew I was being mistreated. Now I know they have no problem believing all that has come out now. Finding that out so validated me. I felt 6-feet taller and that I could begin to hold my head high. Someone who’s known me for over 20 years has said many times to me “why do you walk around looking at the ground all the time?” Well now she knows!

But the TRUTH is I have nothing to be ashamed of or afraid of because I am speaking the truth. I am living in the truth. I am being believed. I am being believed in.

I realise too how deep the ‘bad’ belief system in me was. I was told repeatedly over 20 years that I was evil, worthless, bad, deserved everything I got, had nothing of any worth to say and should just be a good little girl, be quiet, be compliant, do as you’re told. I suppose when you’re told that often enough it becomes part of the fabric of who you are, how you think and how you filter all you experience. To be repeatedly told what people would think if I ever said anything completed the destruction of my self esteem and self worth. I now realise I carried those lies deep inside of me.

Even now I’m telling and despite being believed there is this little niggle inside waiting for people to not believe me and accuse me of making it up.

But by reminding myself how many people have believed me and are believing me, little by little it’s starting to help me believe healing is possible. It’s helping me start to believe there is a way through this. It’s helping me start to believe positives can come from telling now.

By disclosing I began a process which has liberated me to begin to build a new life, built upon strong foundations. Why? Well because the foundations are being built on truth, no more lies, no more secrets, no more pretending, no more bull, just the TRUTH, the whole TRUTH and nothing but the TRUTH. And boy, it feels so good. Yes, it’s scary, yes it’s being vulnerable but hey I’d rather feel the fear and do it afraid than continue to exist, not even live, a life based upon the lies brainwashed into me by my abusers.

You’ve got no idea how good it feels to say no more lies, no more secrets, no more pretending, no more fearing being found out, no more guarding my words – just TRUTH from now on!!

I draw great strength, hope, validation and encouragement from all the messages and comments I’ve received during what have been the worst and hardest two weeks of my adult life. I know I will continue to do so over the coming weeks, months and years as I work on my healing.

I know there are dark days ahead, healing will not be easy or painless but nothing can be worse than what I've survived and worked through already. I dream that, some time in the future, I’ll wake up one day and realise I’ve stopped just existing, just surviving, just staying alive for the sake of just staying alive and have instead begun to live, to really live. I dream one day the sun will come out and stay out and not be chased away or hidden by the big black clouds of my childhood.

09/10/10

Helpful Quotations

2010-10-09T20:34:00.002+01:00

I came across the following quotes on the Facebook page “Overcoming Sexual Abuse” today. They so helped, inspired and encouraged me that I decided to borrow them and quote them here without any further comment from me.

"Our parents plant mental and emotional seeds in us - seeds that grow as we do. In some families, these are seeds of love, respect, and independence. But in many others, they are seeds of fear, obligation, or guilt. As you grew into adulthood, these seeds grew into invisible weeds that invaded your life in ways you never dreamed of"

~ Toxic Parents by Susan Forward

“It is during childhood that humans acquire their first ideas about who they are and unfortunately, they believe these falsehoods for the rest of their lives. Victims are initiated into a pattern of abuse, including self abuse, not in adulthood, but in childhood. Every one of us comes into adulthood with a second-hand opinion of who we are"

~ Am I Bad? Dr. Heyward Ewart

“Abused children receive confusing messages about sex and love, trust and betrayal. The abuser often says “I’m doing this because I love you,” and then hurts the child. The child learns she can’t trust the people she loves, and that she doesn’t have a choice about being close to someone else"

~ Allies In Healing, Laura Davis

“The point of healing is to get through the pain, and on to other parts of life. But that process can’t be rushed or hurried. It’s essential that the survivor get the support they need for as long as they need it… it’s only by fully facing the pain and rage and terror that survivors become free to move on"

~ Allies In Healing, Laura Davis

“Abuse manipulates and twists a child’s natural sense of trust and love. Her innocent feeling are belittle or mocked, and she learns to ignore her feelings. She can’t afford to feel the full range of feelings in her body while she’s being abused - pain, outrage, hurt, vengeance, confusion, arousal. So she short-circuits and goes numb”

~ Allies In Healing, Laura Davis

“Sexual abuse causes children to feel devalued. If you are used by others and then tossed aside, your own needs unrecognized, what value could you possibly believe you have, aside from being an object? Because they were not valued, Survivors continue to neglect themselves just as they were neglected as children.”

~ The Right to Innocence, Beverly Engel

I've Launched 2 new blogsites today

2010-10-06T22:13:00.001+01:00

I've engaged my creative side today and launched two new blogsites.

The first blogsite is the debut for my Autobiography which I've been writing during the last few months.
You can find it at - http://fromchrysalistobeautifulbutterfly.blogspot.com

The second blogsite is my complete Anthology of Poetry, all written by me during the last 18 years - I decided my poetry deserved it's own site.
You can find it at - http://asurvivorspoeticjourney.blogspot.com

This blogsite will continue as is because it's about following the bigger picture of my life and my healing journey.

So, now I’m the proud owner of 3 blogsites!! They each serve a different purpose and will compliment each other.

When I engage my creative side it makes such a difference to how I feel and how I process stuff!

06/10/10

The Last Few Months, Part 5

2010-10-03T12:11:00.002+01:00

This is the fifth part which concludes this little mini-series.

Just over a week ago on Friday 24th September 2010 I received a phone call which caused my world to collapse around me.

I was about to walk out my flat when I heard my phone ring. I paused and waited for my answer phone to click on. To my shock and horror I heard the voice of my investigating officer beginning to leave a message. I could not believe what I was hearing. I could not believe she was leaving a message on my answer phone on a Friday afternoon about a decision that would change the course of my life in one of two directions. I could not believe someone could be so thoughtless and unfeeling as to do that knowing the weekend was coming up when my usual support networks would not be available. I listened in total disbelief.

Following my previous phone conversations with her I did not want to speak to her, but also knew I had to pick up and interrupt her because I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope with dealing with whatever she told me in the message or with having to phone her back. I hated picking up but I did. She got a shock when she heard my voice as I clicked into the call.

Her voice changed and she spoke to me in a cold hard clinical voice that held no compassion nor gave much permission for discussion. I heard her say “the CPS decided to take no further action against your parents and brother. Their key reason being it’s taken you so many years to come forward and make the allegations, but also because they don’t think there’s enough evidence - there is no evidence of child sexual abuse or child cruelty, it would be too hard to take to court.”

My entire body froze. I heard myself begin to stutter “how can they say there’s no evidence of child sexual abuse or child cruelty? What about this bit of evidence... and that bit of evidence... Oh and what about the person who testified I turned up at her house many times after beatings and she cleaned me up? Is that not strong enough evidence of child cruelty?”

I heard the cold hard voice say “but you were 18, legally an adult when that happened. That is not evidence of child cruelty.”

I cut in “But it is evidence of continuity of abuse, whether or not I was an adult or a child at that time, it’s still evidence of assault. I cannot believe they’re not bringing any charges against them at all.”

She said “well that’s the decision.”

My final words to her were “this stinks!”

I heard that cold hard voice say “tough, it’s the final decision” and heard her put the phone down. The call lasted only 3 or 4 minutes.

I stood with the phone in my hand frozen, my mind jumbled. My whole body went cold and I began to shake. I couldn’t take in what I’d just heard. I scanned the phone, found the number for SARC but only got their answer phone. So I dialled the next number in my head which was my mental health worker. As she answered the call I began to sob down the phone. There was nothing to say, she just sat at the other end and listened for 20 minutes till I was able to tell her what had happened. She said “I need to put a care plan together for you. I’ll phone you back in a few minutes, why don’t you try SARC again in the meantime?” So I did, this time I got a support worker. As soon as I recognised her voice I started to sob again. I was being hit by waves of sobbing and shaking. In between those waves I managed to stutter out what had happened. She was wonderful and stayed on the phone with me for half an hour and calmed me down. I put the phone down to SARC and it instantly rang again. I heard the voice of my mental health worker saying “I’m concerned for your safety, can you get here? Let us help you. I’ve spoken to the Crisis Team, we’re going to put a care plan into place, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She knew that earlier in the week I’d attempted suicide twice and she wanted me there for my safety.

As I walked out my flat I went to turn the key in the lock and suddenly thought of the rope I’d been thinking of hanging myself with. I had a sudden impulse to go back in, grab the rope, put it in my bag and take it with me so I acted on that impulse and did just that.

I had to walk about 20 minutes from my flat to get to the mental health offices. I was thankful of the reactions lenses in my glasses which hid my swollen bewildered eyes. I put my head down and blindly walked the route without thinking what I was doing, with no awareness of what was going on around me. I was focused on one thing and one thing alone - getting to the offices where I knew I’d be safe. On the way I blindly went to cross a road totally unaware of my surroundings and stepped right into the path of a car. That shook me a bit because it was a close call. If I’d been killed or injured people might have thought I’d stepped out deliberately given what had just occurred in my life, but actually it was purely accidental. The driver managed to brake in time.

I arrived safely and my worker took me into a room. We sat down and she said “you don’t have to speak to me if you don’t want to, this is a safe space, just let it all out”.

I sat there and said “now I’m here I feel like I’ve shut down, I can’t feel anything.” I thought “this is crazy I’ve been shaking and crying for the past hour but now I’m totally numb, what’s happening?”

Something made me get up and walk across the room with my back to her. I leaned against the wall and as I did I felt something break inside of me and I fell to my knees then found myself lying on the floor sobbing and sobbing. I lay on the floor in an undignified sobbing snotty mess for the best part of an hour. I’ve been through a lot but I’ve never been so broken by anything. My worker just sat there and said nothing. She let me cry till the tears came to a natural end, well at least long enough for a discussion of my care needs for the weekend.

I suddenly remembered the rope and said “I’ve bought something for you. I’ve brought the rope I was going to hang myself with. I don’t want to live but I don’t want to die either so here it is. I couldn’t go home and feel safe with it still in my flat.”

She took it from me, said she’d destroy it and went off to make me a coffee. She left me with that coffee for a few minutes while she called the Crisis Team. When she returned she said the person she spoke to at the Crisis Team was astounded at the statement I’d made when I handed over the rope and said “they were hearing my cry for help loud and clear”. She gave me a piece of paper. I looked at it and saw she’d written down a time. It was the time the Crisis Team had arranged with her to phone me at my flat that evening to arrange a home visit to assess me and determine what support I was going to need to make it safely through the weekend. She’d also written down the dates and times of the other appointments I had booked the following week along with a list of emergency phone numbers. I left the offices feeling heard, understood and supported. Somehow I knew I was gonna make it through.

I got home and expressed my anger by changing my Facebook status to “I think the CPS are heartless jerks”. It felt so good to say that knowing I could express my anger, disgust and helplessness without fear of disapproval or reprisals.

The help of the Crisis Team and the support of a good friend at the end of the phone 24/7 got me through the weekend. Friday night through to Monday morning I kept being hit by massive waves of shaking and sobbing. It was like I was in a huge surf and the waves were coming one after another and I couldn’t get my breath in between. I felt like I was drowning in tears. I was a totally shattered broken mess.

On Monday I was able to speak with my mental health support worker again. The care plan was for the Crisis Team to phone me each evening and I could phone them any time in between and I was booked to see my SARC worker on the Wednesday.

Wednesday morning found me with my SARC worker. As she sat down she said to me “I don’t know what to say, I cannot believe the outcome of this case.” That completely undid me and I sat crumpled in my chair for over an hour as the tears poured down my face and I tried to make sense of something that made no sense. She asked me “how have you survived the last few days?” I said “I don’t know, I just have, but then I’m good at surviving, that’s what I do, I survive, I make it through somehow, whatever happens.” I heard myself begin to talk about how I was thinking of changing my name; that a friend had given me some money so I can go and stay with friends for a couple of weeks in October to recover and that of course I have my Christmas holiday booked. My worker stopped me and gently said “you’re talking of the future without realising it, though you feel like your life has ended and you have no future, all these things are going happen in the future, you do have a future.” I looked at her and slowly realised she was right. She helped me see that I will get the other side of this though it doesn’t feel like that at the moment.

The journey I began when I picked up the phone and dialled that number in the paper has been incredibly liberating although arduous and downright agonising at times. It was such a very hard thing to do to go to the authorities and report them because I’d felt so helpless as a child and terrified about what would happen if I tried to speak out because of their threats. By reporting them I took back that control. It took so much guts and strength to do that.

I felt the dropping of the case totally disregarded how hard it had been to report my abusers. Now I found myself at the end of that process with nothing, no justice and no prospect of justice. No nothing! It hadn’t made the papers so they hadn’t been publicly found out.

By reporting my abusers I’d taken a huge risk. I didn’t know if I’d be believed or taken seriously but I had been. I’d gone through so much to speak out. I’d regained my long lost voice. I’d begun to assert myself. I’d been believed by those I told and had heard back that what was done to me was wrong and not my fault. Coming out in to the open had felt so right and so good. It had been TIME to do that and to do it FOR ME.

But then my voice was, in effect, stopped, silenced, by the dropping of the case, or that’s how it felt. My abusers had managed to do the unthinkable, something I hadn’t anticipated, expected or planned for --- by their lies and denials they wrestled back control and silenced my voice one final time. I fully expected that once I took back that power it would never be taken away from me again. But it felt for one last time they had the last word and stuck two fingers up at me just for good measure.

There are no words for how I feel. There are no words that can make any difference to how I feel. There are no words that will make me feel better. There are just no words!

I do not understand how a God of justice who hates injustice could allow such a miscarriage of justice. It’s so hard I cannot get my head round it. I cannot understand why it didn’t happen. I’m having real trouble trying to believe they wouldn’t take the case to court. I’m having a real hard time accepting the decision. I’m having a hard time trying to see God in all of this. But yet I know HE is there in it all.

The hardest thing is having to somehow accept I’ll never be able to get justice for me the adult but also, more importantly, for the little girl inside of me who so DESPERATELY wanted the world to know what they’d done to her and what they were REALLY like. She is inconsolable but I cannot connect with her because I cannot explain it, I don’t understand it, I’m still in shock, I don’t know how I’m going to get through this. I cannot tell her everything’s gonna be ok because I don’t feel or believe life will ever be ok again.

But then I’m in the middle of it all and I suppose that when you’re in deep shock it really isn't the time to try to understand. I cannot even accept it. I've been through a lot in my life but I've never been so broken.

One of my favourite quotes is “when life gives you lemons come up with orange juice so everyone will wonder how the heck you did that?” Well, I guess I'm going to have to come up with some amazing orange juice in the weeks, months and years to come and I guess throughout the rest of my life. Somehow!!

Every single person I've had contact with in the Crisis Team has said to me “I see/hear the survivor in you/in your voice but I also hear that wobble”. Each worker has said “given what you've just gone through you're doing amazingly well, you wouldn't be human to not need help and support”. When they say that, I know that they’re seeing the strength of Jesus inside this very shattered, broken human being.

At least now I can begin therapy, which I couldn’t while the court case was pending. I can now begin the long road back to healing.

I hope one day to get the dates 27th Oct, 1st Nov and 14th May out of my memory. They’re the birthdays for my ex father, ex brother and ex mother, in that order. Birthdays were big events in our twisted family. On those days a special trip or event was always planned. We played a game of happy families in public but on these days, during family holidays and other important days in the year such as Easter, Christmas, Mother's Day and Father's Day it was a much bigger game we played. A huge fuss was made about the day, everything had to be just so. We'd do whatever we did as a family, pretend to the world and to each other we were a normal happy family doing normal happy family things. Once the day was over it would be decided I’d not smiled broadly enough or showed enough enthusiasm or so on. The beatings and torture that always ended those days were terrible. I could never do anything right, in their eyes, even on those days when I tried hard with every fibre of my being to do and be all I was required to.

Christmas in particular was very cruel. We'd go to church as a happy family, come back, eat lunch as a happy family then I'd be beaten up and sent out the house to walk the streets. I wandered the streets looking in to lighted happy scenes in other people's houses feeling so left out and alone, wondering why I had to live such a horrible life. What was so bad about me? That’s why I go away at Christmas now and create happy memories for myself of that time of year. That’s also why every January I tend to be poorly or generally low physically as well as mentally and emotionally. My Christmas holidays take a lot out of me because although I have amazing times now it’s still immensely traumatic making it through those days.

I sent my ex mother, ex father and ex brother a final letter on Thursday. They each got a letter personally written to them appealing with them to deal with their evil deeds and repent while they are alive. Not because I want any reconciliation or admission of fault, guilt or even an apology. I do not want any of those things. In fact I never want to see or hear from them ever again. I did it because I had to do it for ME, for CLOSURE, to LET GO of them and to do it in a way that was not vengeful and angry. I had to do it in a way that I could live with. I had to do it in a way that honoured God's heart for them. The letter gave them one final chance to consider their deeds and face the truth. Their eternal destiny is in their own hands. They cannot say they weren’t given the chance. At the end of the day we all have to live with our own consciences. I do not know how they live with their consciences. I’ve let go of them now, they will never hear from me again.

It was a necessary step in my journey which formally closed the door on them. That is why I’m now calling them 'ex'. They never were parents to me and my brother was a merciless bully to me. I’ve also let go of the hope I doggedly held on to that one day they’d apologise, one day they’d admit some guilt. That will never happen now. I have to walk away and start over somehow.

I guess my first step in starting over is changing my name. It is also the final part of breaking ties with that toxic family. I’m doing it for my personal safety because they threatened that if I ever spoke out “they’d hunt me down, they’d find me and kill me.” I know I’ll be looking over my shoulder until the day I legally become “Fi MacLeod”.

I'm also doing it for many really positive reasons.

Why Fi? Well at the moment Fi is the shortened form of my real name Fiona and I want to be legally ‘Fi’. I’ve never liked my first name Helen and want rid of that too.

Why MacLeod? Because my Scottish heritage is massively important to me. It’s always been an important part of my identity. I’m choosing to maintain that through my new name. I’m also maintaining the clan heritage by choosing a clan which is part of the chain of clans which eventually led to the Nicholson clan, but which is also far enough back to not be obvious.

I think “Fi MacLeod” has a lovely ring to it!! I cannot legally become “Fi MacLeod” until January because of Christmas holiday arrangements and the lack of time to get my passport reissued in my new name. But I’ve decided to informally begin using the name to get people used to it before I drop my birth surname of Nicholson for good.

I'm looking forward to becoming “Fi MacLeod” and starting over, re-establishing my life based in truth, living by my rules, choosing the people I want in my life. People I consider to be safe life affirming people. It’s a fresh start with a fresh name that I’ve chosen. With the right help and support I hope one day I’ll be able to live, to really live, without my abuse filling every waking moment and every sleeping moment. It will always be part of my history and will always inform how I relate to the world around me but I hope one day it will be a positive force in life rather than destructive.

There is one thing for sure, I have found my voice and I’m gonna use it and I’ll never be silenced again!

Hey, time to go make some orange juice I think!!

The Last Few Months, Part 4

2010-10-02T10:00:00.000+01:00

On Tuesday 12th July 2010 my abusers were arrested and questioned by the police.

I was not prepared for how I was going to react to that news. Their arrest was a huge wobble moment for me. On the one hand it was wonderful to know they’d been told of the allegations, arrested and taken to the local police station for questioning. It was phenomenally wonderful to think they’d now be forced to face up to the truth. On the other hand there was a part of me that was scared stiff about what they may say. I was terrified the police would be taken in by their lies, denials and charming front. Although part of me knew they’d try to lie and deny their way through it, there was part of me that thought the shock of being arrested would shake them out of their denial.

Instead to my immense shock they lied, denied and play acted throughout the police interviews and no confessions happened. I was not prepared for that scenario.

That completely shattered me. Up until that point I’d been carefully controlled in my sessions, my emotions were kept in check, if tears began I swallowed them back down. There was no way I was crying in front of any of my support workers.

As a child I learned from a very early age that tears were ‘bad’. Bad things happened if I cried. If I cried when they beat, raped and tortured me they made it hurt even more. If I showed any response to what they were doing to me they deliberately made it worse. My abusers taught me that emotions were bad – whatever the emotion may be, it was bad to have emotions and unacceptable to express them in any way. If I cried, got frustrated or angry, for example, I was mocked and put down.

So it is a very rare, almost unheard of event for me to cry. Some friends who’ve known me for 20 or 25 years have never seen me cry or known me cry because I’ve been so shut off from my emotions.

But the day I faced the news of my abusers’ denials with my SARC worker changed all that. Within five minutes of me entering the room my false smile was gone, my composure completely collapsed and I cried and cried and cried, it was like a dam burst.

I’d always believed my father to be weak and to have a conscience. I knew my mother and brother would deny and lie their way through it but I always believed my father would crack and spill the beans and implicate everyone.

The shock of the realisation that something completely different had happened was too much to bear. It felt like a total betrayal. I realised that day I was going to have a fight on my hands if I was going to get justice. It was not going to be as straight forward as I thought it might be. I really thought he’d crack under questioning but he just denied everything.

As I considered what had happened I realised that probably no confessions were made because, let’s face it my mother is a formidable woman and everyone is scared of her. My father was probably too terrified of her to do anything else but lie. My brother is in as deep a state of denial and hiding behind religion as my mother. For all I know they may even have made a pact years ago that if this ever tried to come out they would just blanket deny everything.

They probably thought “we’ll just deny it all, they’ll realise she’s just a silly little trouble maker and it’ll just go away as if it never happened.”

Everything was silently screaming out of me to the police and CPS “please do not drop the case; please don’t be taken in by their lies and denials; don’t let them get away with their lies and denials; please don’t do that to me.”

The investigating officer told me my abusers were “very angry to be visited by the police and to have such allegations made against them, they loudly pronounced their innocence and said the allegations were totally unfounded.”

I found that piece of information very hard to take in. I would have been far better off not hearing it.

My abusers’ denials meant they were released on unconditional bail for a month and the case referred to the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) to decide whether to prosecute and if so, what they were to be charged with. How different things would have been if the police could have obtained a confession. But, in the event, they were unable to break any of my abusers down under questioning.

Raw pain poured out of me that day. My worker talked me through the pain and sense of betrayal the denials had caused me to feel. My SARC worker’s acceptance of my tears helped me accept them a little although I felt very awkward and didn’t know what to do with myself. But all I could do was cry that day.

It was the beginning of me being able to begin to cry. It’s not been an easy journey learning to cry. Many times I’ve gone back to the old shutting down, swallowing them back down way of coping, even when sitting alone at home. I’d cried that day in front of my SARC support worker and it had been safe. She did not mock my tears but worked with them. Even though that had happened I had future sessions when I swallowed the tears down rather than let her see them. It took me several weeks to realise it was totally safe to cry in front of my support workers.

The release of my abusers on unconditional bail was the beginning of a long agonising wait for the decision.

It was also the beginning of me fearing for my safety. My abusers told me that if I ever told “they’d hunt me down, find me and kill me.” It doesn’t matter how many times I was told by the police “but they don’t know where you are”. They know the town I live in, and it is a small town. My abusers threats were very real and had kept me silent for so many years, now I was facing that fear head on.

I allowed myself to begin to dream of obtaining justice for myself and for the little girl inside of me who’d been so brave in breaking her silence and beginning to tell. It was such a horrific case that neither I, nor my witnesses, could see any other outcome but it going to court. The police officer who did the interviews with me was convinced it was going all the way to court and had spoken to me about the tactics a defence lawyer might try to use and how strong I was going to have to be to go through the trial. She also said "how much she was looking forward to going up to Cumbria for a couple of days to give evidence at my trial."

It was all looking and sounding really positive. I knew the truth was that it was a truly horrific case.

Such was the level of the brutality I experienced at the hands of my abusers that as far as I’m concerned the names of my abusers belong in the same notorious company as Ian Brady, Myra Hindley, Fred + Rose West and other well known convicted child abusers and child killers.

I could not believe it would not go to trial. I could not believe I wouldn’t get justice because of the harrowing nature of my evidence.

One week before my abusers’ bail was due to end I received a phone call. I thought I was about to be told that the case was either being dropped to being taken to trial. Instead I was told that bail was being extended from early July to the end of September to give the CPS time to trawl through all the evidence and seriously consider it. I was not prepared for that scenario and it threw me a little but I was greatly encouraged by that development.

During that phone call the investigating officer said to me “they [i.e. my abusers] won’t be happy”. I replied “So what? What has their happiness got to do with any of this? They did not consider my happiness when they were torturing and abusing me. Why should I or you care about their happiness?”

I was incensed at that comment to be honest, it was totally unhelpful and I really did not need to hear that from the investigating officer. She had nothing to say in response to that and I ended the call at that point.

I wondered again about what was really going on and just how much she’d been taken in by them.

However with the bail extension I began to think I was going to get the outcome I so desired and needed. For the CPS to request a bail extension and spend so long considering the case there must be something really compelling about it.

I thought my abusers would have been thinking the initial bail date would come and the allegations dropped because of their lies and denials and the whole thing would just go away. I also thought that when their bail was extended it would be a huge shock to them and they’d start to realise they were in bigger trouble than they originally thought.

After my abusers’ bail was extended people in the town where they live witnessed them completely alter their behaviour. They stopped all their charity work and stopped going to church citing serious illness as the reason; more evidence of the deliberate devious accomplished liars they really are. They were witnessed dumping stuff at a local tip which was very suspicious. It bore out all my gut instincts of how they’d respond to the bail extension. It showed me and those who witnessed their activities that they knew they were in trouble and thought they could be going down for it. Regardless of whether they choose to live in denial they know the truth as much as I do. They know they did terrible things just as I do.

I tried to speak to the investigating officer about what was going on. She was very dismissive towards me and told me I was being "unhelpful and silly and no way would my abusers do anything like that". She would not accept that I was the expert and knew them far better than she did. Suddenly she was the expert on my abusers and not me. I began to suspect all the more that she’d lost her objectivity and been taken in by them to some degree.

I asked why the house had never been searched or forensically examined. She said "stop being silly, there wouldn’t be any evidence in the house after all these years". I thought that was very short sighted knowing of many historic cases where properties have been searched and forensically examined 30, 40 or more years later and yielded valuable evidence.

She said “they’d have gotten rid of any evidence 25 years ago when they kicked you out and disowned you.”

I said “No, not necessarily, that is a flawed assumption to make, my abusers thought they had my silence for life, they never imagined I’d ever speak out, when they discovered I’d told they imagined that if they lied and denied it, it would go away, but now they realise there is more to it than that and it is entirely plausible that they could be using the extra bail time to dump/destroy evidence. I know how devious and cunning they really are, and that is should at least be noted down.”

I was told this was “really unhelpful and I was being very silly”. I wondered yet again what was really going on with my case. She told me to relax, forget all about it and be patient which was extremely patronising at the very least. As far as she was concerned there was more than enough evidence before the CPS and they didn’t have to go looking for any more.

I felt like I was a little pest who had nothing useful to say or of value to add. She again told me to “stop being silly, my parents had a right to get on with their life legitimately while on bail.”

I felt my abusers had more rights than me the ‘victim’ in the case. She also totally missed the point that there is a difference between legitimate behaviour and suspicious behaviour.

To be told my parents could just get on with their lives while I could not get on with my life until I received the prosecution decision was extremely painful and condescending.

When I was a child and tried to tell people all was not as it seemed at home with my parents I was told to “stop being silly, no way would they possibly do anything like that, they are upstanding members of the church and pillars of the community, don’t speak ill about your parents, respect them.“

Some of the same words the investigating officer used when I tried to report my concerns about their suspicious behaviour - “Stop being silly, no way would they possibly do anything like that”.

To be honest I lost respect for the investigating officer after being spoken to in that manner.

The attitude and tone of that call triggered me right back into the tiny frightened child who was told in no uncertain terms many times that she was silly, unimportant and had nothing of any importance or relevance to say and had no value so should just keep quiet and go away.

The intensity of the pain I was triggered into ratcheted up my suicide risk to a very high level and at that point I was referred to the mental health crisis team for my own safety. I wanted to commit suicide despite my strong will to survive and stay alive. I was also seriously self-harming. Somehow I got through that very difficult, wobbly, painful week before receiving the final CPS decision on the case.

The obvious changes in my abusers’ behaviour did not go unnoticed in the small town of Whitehaven. People have been asking questions about “what is really going on with the Nicholson’s?” In response people are beginning to be told by those in the know that they were arrested, questioned over serious child abuse allegations concerning their daughter and were on bail while the investigation continued. It was good for me to begin to realise the truth was coming out which helped me cope with the final CPS decision.

I will discuss that decision, its implications and affect upon me in the final part of this story.

The Last Few Months, Part 3

2010-10-01T23:43:00.001+01:00

During my first formal police interview I was blown away by the amount of detail that was actually in my memory banks. I was able to recall far more detail than I realised was there. But telling the detail for the first time was very traumatising too. There were several times during the interview when I physically shook. A couple of times I had to stop the interview and take a break because I was so badly spaced out I thought I was going to pass out on the floor.

Unfortunately the interview precipitated me into deep trauma and shock. It took about two months for me to come out of that place of deep dark wobbly trauma into a better place. With Easter immediately following there was a delay in SARC [Sexual Assault Referral Centre] contacting me following the police referral. It was two weeks until I had an appointment. That couple of weeks was incredibly hard dealing with the trauma and hearing nothing from the police. I began to wonder if the police had decided not to investigate the allegations after all.

I remember going to my first appointment with the SARC worker not knowing what to expect and feeling very dubious about it all. What I found was a very compassionate caring woman who fully believed me from the outset and who treated me with incredible respect. I was very fragile in deep trauma when I first met her and to find such belief, respect and compassion was very validating.

Remembering is an interesting process. There are some aspects of the abuse and torture I’ve always remembered vividly. Other aspects of it have only been just faint impressions in my mind. Following the first police interview I started having flashbacks and nightmares. Some were memories I’d always had, but increasingly new memories came pouring out through flashbacks and nightmares which added to the trauma. All I knew for several weeks was trauma heaped on trauma with many panic attacks. I realised the police interview had given permission for some repressed memories to make themselves known.

I began seeing my SARC worker once a week but was struggling to trust and found it very hard to open up to her. I guess I was testing her out and vividly remember at some stage during my 4th session thinking “this woman is safe”. It was another 2 sessions before I actually began to feel safe with her. That “feeling safe” coincided with stabilising from the deep trauma that followed the police interview. That “feeling safe” also seemed to be a cue to disassociate. I spent many of our sessions working hard to stay in the room with her but didn’t understand what was happening, just that I was drifting in and out, spacing out and wondering what on earth was happening.

Early in May I was informed that the police wanted me to do a second formal interview. There was a part of me that was massively relieved to get a second chance and was determined to make the most of it. But knowing what I was facing was really scary too so there was a part of me that was terrified at having to go back and face revealing yet more detail and yet more horror. There was another part of me that was reassured knowing what I was facing meant there were less unknowns about doing a second interview. It was a very bizarre combination of emotions and mental processing.

There was a gap of eight weeks between the first and second police interview. During those eight weeks I’d slowly begun to realise nothing bad was going to happen to me for telling. Actually only good stuff had happened as a result of telling. Telling had had positive results. It led to me being supported. Most importantly I’d been believed too.

That challenged the lies my abusers had brainwashed me with. I was threatened many times that if I ever told, whoever I told would think I was a dirty little whore, a silly little troublemaker, a nasty little liar, and dire things would happen to me if I ever told. Those threats and lies had kept me silent for so many years. But having gone through the first interview and then worked with my SARC worker for a few weeks those lies were being challenged. The child within me began to think “well if they [my abusers] were wrong about that, then what else were they wrong about?”

All these things enabled me to face my second formal interview on Tuesday 25th May 2010 with confidence and boldness. I didn’t hold back during that harrowing three hours and shared stuff I never ever thought I’d find words for. Many times I shook as I relived events as well as recalling them. I was very nauseous throughout the interview as the horror and shame poured out of me. I remember feeling totally covered in the shame and grime of the terrible acts pouring out of my memory. The police officer who interviewed me said not only could she see the horror in my eyes and hear it in my voice but it was visible in my entire body. I remember saying I was trying very hard to find words for things I had no words for as a child.

I also remember saying towards the end of the interview that I was still recovering memories. I said I was in a live process and that what I’d shared in that second interview was not the end of my story but there was more. I had a sense that the evidence I’d given and the memories I’d recovered were mild compared with what was to come and I was very right about that. In the 4 months following that interview I’ve remembered events which are so horrific I have no vocabulary for them.

That interview precipitated me into a different place of trauma. It was a place where I began to self harm to express the agony I was feeling inside. I can cope with physical pain. I have a very high pain level which I developed at a very tiny age. But I could not cope with the emotional pain and it found expression through self harming.

I remember soon after the second formal interview turning up for an appointment with my SARC worker having slashed my arms the night before. I expected to be met with disgust – I expected to be met with anger – I expected the worst because that was what I was conditioned by my abusers to expect when I did something ‘bad’. I was feeling so ashamed and bewildered by what I’d done as well. I expected her to show me the door. Instead I was met with the most incredible gentleness and compassion.

The good thing to come out of that was I realised she accepted me as I was and wasn’t going to reject me when I did something I perceived to be ‘bad’. That was a turning point for me. I was able to trust her on a far deeper level than I had up until then.

Another good thing to come out of it was she contacted the community mental health team in my locality. Four weeks after the second formal police interview I found myself in an appointment with a worker there. I turned up to that appointment feeling sceptical about having to start with someone new but again found myself being fully believed from the outset.

Being believed has been such a big thing for me. It was a recurring theme throughout my two police interviews and continued to emerge week in week out as I realised I was being believed and taken seriously. Not only was I being believed as an abuse survivor but I was also being believed in as a person. That was so incredibly powerful.

At the beginning of June my case was put on indefinite hold following a horrific mass shooting in my hometown. Mass shootings are very rare events in the UK where we have very strict gun laws. It was so shocking and incredibly hard to process that someone went crazy with two guns in my hometown. It was beyond belief and my sense of shock was profound. Additionally the aftermath of that event meant my investigating officer was put taken off my case to support families of victims affected by it. It was so hard to have my case put on indefinite hold because of that senseless shooting.

I was so angry with the man who went crazy with guns that day and then killed himself when cornered by the police. I felt immensely angry that my case was put on hold. I felt so helpless and pushed to one side. The police were on the brink of arresting my abusers when the mass shooting happened. The two weeks following that news were very hard to get through. I was desperate for someone to prioritise my case because it had been so hard for me to disclose to the police in the first place and because I’d been so close to my abusers being arrested. But I survived that time and received a call just over two weeks later saying my investigator was back on my case.

Over the next 3 months I met with both my SARC worker and my mental health worker every week. Although some of the work overlapped, I worked very differently with each worker and was able to discuss mental health issues with one worker while discussing and developing coping strategies with my SARC worker. They complemented each other and helped pull me through having my case put on hold and then the lengthy investigative process. I would not have made it through without them.
I thought my experience with the SARC worker would help me deal easier with establishing a relationship with the mental health worker. Instead I found it even harder to establish trust and open up. I just kept turning up to my appointments and gradually realised she believed me and I could trust her, but it was a long hard process to establish trust and be able to work honestly with her.

In July when my mental health worker had leave booked she referred me to another very experienced worker who I instantly clicked with and instantly trusted, which was really bizarre. I don’t instantly trust! But there was something about her that made me feel instantly safe with her. Again I found myself being fully believed and taken seriously as an abuse survivor and as a person. I realised that trusting is not a black and white issue.

One of the affects of the abuse was that I do not trust. It completely took away my ability to trust. But through meeting these professional women, being believed and taken seriously I was discovering I could trust after all. I realised that trust occurs at many levels and is not set in stone but is a process. Throughout the weeks of working with my SARC worker and the mental health worker I had sessions when I was able to trust but then other sessions when I could not trust and tested out and disassociated instead.

The temporary stand in worker quickly realised I was very visual and creative and offered to do a clay session with me. During the clay session I used clay to create figures of my abusers and recreated a scene of abuse I’d always had vivid memories of. After doing that I was free to smash them all up with a rolling pin. That connected me with the deep anger and rage I knew was inside me. That fear had terrified me and I’d always been afraid of getting in touch with it. But within that safe controlled environment I released immense anger and rage. The clay session achieved something which could have taken many months of talking therapy. Wow, the work I did during that session was incredible. The effect upon me and how I process anger because of it has been profound.

It was just as well that I did that piece of work because something was about to happen that would seriously rock my world. I will discuss that in part four.

I'm Still Standing by Elton John and Bernie Taupin

2010-10-01T12:02:00.001+01:00

"Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did.
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid.
I'm still standing after all this time.
Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind.
I'm still standing yeah yeah yeah
I'm still standing yeah yeah yeah"

It is incredible to think how much I have endured and lived through. Yet I am still standing! I am still going! I aint quit! I’m still going and I’m gonna keep standing! I’m gonna keep going and I’m gonna keep standing till one day I’m able to stand with my head held high without the abuse and my abusers on my mind and say “THIS IS ME, YEAH YEAH YEAH, THIS IS ME, YEAH YEAH YEAH”

The Last Few Months, Part 2

2010-10-01T11:35:00.005+01:00

Having made that initial phone call to the police and gotten over the initial shock I went through a whole kaleidoscope of emotions and thoughts.

I wondered if I’d be taken seriously; wondered what was going to happen next; will I be believed? Sheer disbelief flooded me and I thought “Oh my goodness Fi, what have you done? I cannot believe you did that”. There were moments of sheer terror at the thought of having to talk about what had been the hell of the first 20 years of my life. There was also desperation that they do take me seriously and moments of fear that they’ll not be interested and would say it all took place so long ago, it is impossible to investigate.

It was so hard to make that phone call and disclose to the police. I cannot convey just how hard it was to pick up the phone and make that disclosure. Words are not adequate, but words are all I have to build a picture, so my inadequate words will have to suffice.

The following day I came home to a message on my ansaphone from a police woman from the local child abuse investigation unit wanting to arrange to come and meet me as soon as possible to discuss the allegations. I wave of utter relief washed over me. I thought “yes, they are going to take me seriously”. But again the terror kicked in and I flashed back to all the threats that were made to me about telling, those threats had kept me silent for so many years. I knew I had to find a way past those threats and just do it, find that voice that had been taken from me at such a tiny age and begin to tell.

It was still a shock though when exactly two weeks after making that initial call I found myself on Monday 22nd March 2010 sitting in my flat with the investigating officer being informally interviewed and assessed as to whether I would be able to cope with the rigours of the formal interview process and how willing I was to see the complaint through. Although we did not discuss any detail just a basic overview, the police officer was in no doubt as to the seriousness of the case. She said she could see the trauma all over me and hear it in my voice and that it was obvious to her that I’d been through very severe trauma in my childhood and that I was still very traumatised by it. She was very compassionate towards me and I felt that possibly, just possibly, I could trust her. I was very encouraged by that reaction inside me and gobsmacked at how seriously I was being taken.

It was an even bigger shock to my system when I found myself just one week later on Monday 29th March, three weeks after making the initial phone call, sitting in their special interview suite giving evidence and speaking in detail for the very first time of the horror which was my childhood.

I remember being very guarded in that first interview. I was still believing the lies that if I told I would not be believed and people would think I was just a dirty little whore, a silly little troublemaker etc. I was unsure how much to reveal because for me I find it hard to believe just how cruel and sadistic my abusers were although I know the truth. But if I told it how it really was would I really be believed? It was a conundrum. Although I’ve lived with the truth and the horror of the memories all these years now I had an opportunity to speak freely about them I froze and found it incredibly difficult to speak about the abuse and torture I endured. In the end I found words for the things that I could find words for. It was very hard to convey within 3 hours the scale of the true horror of what took place in that house but I had to accept at the end of it that I’d done as well as I could on the day, and shared what I was able to share. I walked away hoping I could get a second chance to tell my story because I felt I’d told it so inadequately.

At the end of the interview she requested my written permission to be referred to a nearby Sexual Assualt Referral Centre (SARC). It was standard practice in my area that once evidence has been given about a sexual crime for referral to take place so that the ‘victim’ can be supported through the legal process, but she needed my signature to permit it.

I had a really bizarre reaction to that referral request. Although I knew the truth, there was still a part of me that did not want to accept that I’d been sexually abused. There was another part of me that still believed I would not be believed and that if I was referred to the SARC the workers would soon see through me and realise I was just a time waster and I hadn’t been abused and was just lying.

As she waited for my answer I just stared at her and could not communicate what I was thinking and feeling, but I knew I had to okay the referral and just go with it. As I looked at her I realised she was in no doubt about the truth of what I’d been through and she gently persuaded me that I needed professional help and support.

So after a few very bewildering minutes I pulled my thoughts and emotions together and signed the referral form.

All Any Feeling Wants

2010-09-29T16:18:00.000+01:00

“All any feeling wants is to be welcomed with tenderness. It wants room to unfold. It wants to relax and tell its story. It wants to dissolve like a thousand writhing snakes that with a flick of kindness become harmless strands of rope” Geneen Roth via Darleen Ouimet

My Code, My Rules

2010-09-29T16:06:00.001+01:00

My abusers’ rules were all about control, manipulation and abuse; designed to keep me quiet and to keep their behaviour secret. In so doing my abusers virtually destroyed me and reduced me to merely existing.

Their code, their rules are no longer relevant to my life. Nothing bad is going to happen if I reject their code, their rules now. Their code, their rules were bad ones.

I do not have to live by their rules anymore. I do not want to live by their rules anymore either.

It is possible for me to live by new rules. I can create my own code, my own rules. I am allowed to now.

My code, my rules are about learning to live, not just exist.

My code, my rules are going to be about beginning to be me – who I really am – not who they said I was and not who they made me to be.

They are about finding freedom rather than being tied up in knots; about living; about being more healthy and about being safe.

Ultimately, establishing my own code, my rules, is about finding my own voice and using it, for too long it’s been silenced, but no more. I am finding my voice now and by golly am I gonna use it!!

The Last Few Months - Part 1

2010-09-28T06:58:00.002+01:00

Late in 2009 I realised I was going to have to speak out what had happened to me as a child to the police. I knew that if I did not it would kill me and I did not want to be one more life lost to abuse. I had taken the first step in setting up this site and beginning to tell my story here but I knew I was going to have to take telling this next step further.

I'd reached a point in my life where I could no longer carry on just existing, just surviving, just staying alive for the sake of it. I had no quality of life, something had to change.

So on Monday 8th March 2010 I did something which meant my life would change and never be the same again. I picked up the phone and reported my parents and brother to the police on historic child abuse\child cruelty charges.

It had taken me 6 weeks to pluck up the courage to do this after reading an article in the Whitehaven News late Jan 2010 encouraging victims of sexual abuse regardless of age or when it happened to come forward. It gave a phone number to ring. When I read that article it was like someone placed an invitation in my hand. I would not have known who to phone or how to go about it.

So on the afternoon of 8th March 2010 I sat and stared at that phone number for 3 hours and in the end told myself to stop vacillitating and pick up the phone and ring the number given. A little after 4pm I picked up the phone and dialled the number in the article. I had to be redirected from a switchboard to the right person and it took a good 2-3 minutes. Throughout that time everything in me was screaming “put the phone down” but I knew I had to stay on the line because I knew I'd never be able to find the courage to pick up the phone and dial that number a second time.

Eventually I found myself speaking to someone from the appropriate team. I heard myself say “I want to report that I was abused and tortured by my parents and brother while I grew up in Whitehaven between the years of 1974 and 1986." I remember my voice was shaking as I said those words. I was questioned closely for a few minutes, especially concerning the dates. I kept thinking "she's gonna say it happened too long ago" but she didn't, instead she said it would be investigated and ended the call. I remember putting the phone down and starting to shake. It was like I went into shock. For the next hour I was just a gibbering wreck as the reality and enormity of what I had just done hit me.

I felt sheer terror about breaking my silence but also immense pride that I'd found the courage and words after 24 years to begin to speak out the true horror that I endured as a child. I even began to dare to dream that I might be able to finally get justice for me the adult but also more importantly for the deeply traumatised little girl living inside me.

I HAVE YOU ON A NEW ROUTE

2010-09-23T15:14:00.002+01:00

I have you on a new route for your journey. It is part of the big picture. I know you have given this much thought and prayer.

You began at MY prompting and are now on your way. It feels good because the idea originated with ME.

It is important to you, but it is very important to others who know you. They need the encouragement now.

Keep on track and keep talking to ME about what you are doing. It will make the bond between us so sweet and precious. You will enjoy the journey so much more as you see it is greatly helping others on their way.

WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND

2010-09-23T15:11:00.001+01:00

We do not understand -

Joy until we face Sorrow
Faith until it is tested
Peace until faced with Conflict
Trust until we are betrayed
Love until it is lost
Or Hope until confronted with doubts

I CHOOSE TO LIVE MY LIFE IN TRUTH

2010-09-23T14:54:00.002+01:00

It came to me the other day that in my quest for truth and an end to all the lies, pretence, play acting and bullshit that my life has been full of, I can do that for ME and I need to do that for ME.

But when it comes to my abusers, well that is a very different story.

They have been living bold as brass for all these years in lies which to them are the truth; living in an absurd reality where lies became the truth and the truth became lies.

I cannot change them but only challenge them with the truth which they can choose to deny or not, it is their choice.

But I choose to live the rest of MY life in truth regardless of what my abusers choose to do.

NIGHT TERRORS - Written by Penny Smith

2010-09-23T14:53:00.001+01:00

I wake from dreaming of his laughing, sneering face, the demons who haunt me are still giving chase

I try to shake it off - to leave them in my dreams but they follow me into my day and always will, it seems

Somehow I have to go about the duties of everyday life, there are things I have to do - I am a mother and a wife

I must put on a happy face, while memories at me claw, my children need not know the pain, that at my soul doth gnaw

It's the hardest thing I have to do, this hiding of how I feel, smile, despite my wounds and somehow, learn to deal

Some days are good, while others exhaust me to my very core; night again, and I haven't the strength to fight the demons anymore

Then he's back in my dreams -sneering, lying, hurting me, sleep holds no reprieve - there is nowhere for me to flee

I wake again exhausted, cold sweat upon my brow, remnants of terror slowly fading - I must carry on somehow

WRONG CHORDS

2010-09-23T14:51:00.000+01:00

A master jazz musician shared how when he was playing in concert with his renowned mentor, he hit a wrong chord. He noticed something unusual. His mentor played around the wrong chord and made something beautiful out of it. When the younger man later apologised for the wrong chord, the mentor said "I didn't hear a wrong chord. Instead, I heard something new and built something beautiful out of it."

The Lord says, "Do you remember the wrong chords you have played in life? Did you notice how I built something beautiful out of it? I tell you, those wrong chords do not exist for ME. I do not hear them. Each one is a starting place for something wonderful."

Now go play your song and sing your tune with the excellence in ability I have given. Forget worrying about the wrong chords.

SHAME . . . NOT ME

2010-09-09T15:00:00.002+01:00

I came across the following poem on a friend's site and thought I'd borrow it for here as it was so good.

SHAME…NOT ME

Shame on you… for damaging me
Shame on you… for your lies and pretence
Shame on you… for your twisted world

Shame on me… NO THERE IS NO SHAME ON ME

Shame on you… for causing me to suffer so
Shame on you… for not hearing my silent screams
Shame on you… for turning your back on me

Shame on me… NO THERE IS NO SHAME ON ME

Kate Swift 2010

She Had No Choice

2010-08-15T16:04:00.004+01:00

She had no choice when she was little, when would it eventually all end, this stripping away of her dignity, would there ever be an end to the shame, the fear, the hurt? Why couldn’t she feel safe in her own bed? She wondered many times over the long lonely agonising years, why couldn’t they just leave her alone?

Maybe life was supposed to hurt so much, but then she wondered what she’d done wrong? Maybe she was so bad that she deserved it, just like they said to her so many times, the nightmare went on and on and on and on and deep inside she wilted and died, there was no escape, there was none to rescue …

So that innocent terrified little girl thought, “Well I guess there is no hope for me, maybe I am satan’s child like they said, maybe I am too bad and evil for God to help, I guess I'm just too bad and I guess I’m too evil like they say, that I do deserve all this for some reason, that I was born for trouble like they say!”

And so it went on, horrific day after horrific day, not knowing what was coming next, where the next fist was coming from, what she was going to be accused of next, what terrible names they would call her, such degrading names, such cruel names cursing the fact that she was a little girl, cursing her very existence …

On and on, dark horrible night after dark horrible night of going to bed terrified of what may happen, waking to pain, threats and terrible violations, waking up lying in her own blood and vomit, she was a whore they said, whatever that meant, as they dragged her from her bed for punishment beatings, more accusations …

On and on, week after week of being cursed over and over, you’re stupid, you’ll never achieve anything or be anything or do anything good, you were born for evil and you are evil, never think of yourself in any other way, cruel words that told her she was worthless and no one would ever want to know her …

On and on, month after month of degrading torture, being made fun of at every turn, there was no fun or laughter in that house, she was never allowed to play, never had no toys or had friends round like other kids she knew, she felt so alone, isolated in that hell hole of a house, that torture chamber where fear ruled …

On and on, year after year of smiling, pretending all was well, pretending to be a normal happy family, hoping someone would notice, dreaming of one day when she’d meet her real parents and find out that they’d only adopted her, dreaming that someone out there loved her, one day she’d belong, be wanted and be safe …

Eventually it did all end, one terrible January evening when they realised she’d dared to call their bluff, well they’d told her to leave often enough and thrown her out often enough too, but they didn’t like it when she called their bluff and got somewhere else to live. They thought, how dare she? She has no right, we cannot let her!

They realised they no longer had control over her, she was no longer prepared to be used and abused but they were not prepared to let her go that easily, she was disowned and left for dead in the snow after a very long and ugly fight, it hardly mattered what had happened, she was used to surviving no matter what!

It was over, it had ended, she was alone in a big world now, alone but finally safe, “no one will ever hurt me again” she told herself, “I will survive, I will make it through somehow”, that little girl eventually had choice given back to her, she now had a choice and she made a choice to stay alive, she made a choice to survive!

The Devastation of Incest

2010-08-15T00:56:00.004+01:00

I came across the following quote and just had to borrow it and share it here.

I read this and thought WOW, THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT IT WAS LIKE.

The only thing I would add is that as well as not feeling safe in my own bed I did not feel safe in my own home either.

Anyway, here comes the quote:-

"The devastation of incest is powerful because it is set within a constellation of family emotions and conflicts. For the child, there is no stranger to run from, no home to run to. The child cannot feel safe in their own bed. The victim must learn to live with it."

- Susan Forward: Betrayal of Incest, Borrowed from "Overcoming Sexual Abuse"

I WAS ROBBED

2010-08-14T21:17:00.007+01:00

I was robbed:-
I was robbed of the ability to trust period
I was robbed of the ability to form relationships period
I was robbed of my childhood
I was robbed of my security
I was robbed of my innocence
I was robbed of my virginity
I was robbed of my femininity
I was robbed of my dignity
I was robbed of my self worth
I was robbed of my ability to play
I was robbed of my identity
I was robbed of my sexuality

I was robbed of so many things

In exchange I was given in their place:-
Confusion about my identity
Deep shame about my body
Feeling totally dirty, filthy, second hand goods, damaged goods
Deep revulsion about the acts that so violated me
Feeling violated to my very core
Totally confused sexuality
Ashamed of who I am
Unsure of who and what I am
Immense guilt
Self blame
Deep trauma
Immense anger and rage
Shame that goes beyond any words that can adequately describe its intensity

I don’t really know who I am. I cannot trust and have never been able to have any kind of relationship so life has been so lonely and empty because of the abuse.

Sometimes it makes me so angry and underlines my need for justice; my need for my story to be known; my need for people to know what they did, how cruel they were and how they devastated my life.

That anger and need for justice also informs my determination to:-
Stay alive
Find a voice
Tell the truth
Be heard

And eventually to heal and be able to, one day, move on from all of this, so that only part of my life has been devastated, not the whole of it.

A Place Called Nothingness

2010-08-13T17:50:00.002+01:00

As a child I had to endure the abuse. I also had to conceal my feelings about it. I endured in silence. I endured without tears. I endured without showing any outward sign that what they were doing was affecting me. I endured and endured beyond endurance. It was all about survival. Surviving meant never showing that I was affected by anything they did

But truth is - it did affect me.

Not only did I have to conceal my feelings, by being denied expression of my feelings I wasn’t actually allowed to have any feelings or opinions. But deep inside, there must be my true thoughts and feelings about it all, somewhere deep inside that silenced terrorised little girl.

It’s only now I’ve found the courage to speak out that I’ve been asked “how do you feel about the abuse?” Nobody has ever asked me how I felt about being abused? Many people over the years have taken it upon themselves to tell me how I ‘should’ feel, react or behave, which again denied me true expression of what I was really feeling or experiencing.

So I guess I’ve never really thought about how I feel about it. And anyway, I’ve just been busy staying alive, surviving behind a fake smile, doing what it takes to make it through, trying not to feel because, well because I don’t know what to do with feelings.

The first time I was asked how I felt about the abuse I shrugged my shoulders and said “err nothing really” but then I paused and heard myself say “actually I’m angry … so angry I could kill someone … and I feel deeply sad about all that could have been and wasn’t … oh and there’s guilt there … and I feel so ashamed, so horribly ashamed.”

Well it was a start but hang on, let’s be real here, I don’t tend to feel much. Often I go beyond feeing to a ‘numb’ place, which is nice for a while. It kinda gives me a break but I always end up getting shaken out of that place by something, whether it be a phone call or something else. I suppose ‘numb’ is only meant to be a transit place. I mostly oscillate between intense rage and deep sadness but there must be other feelings about the abuse somewhere inside of me. There must be more feelings than just those. I spose I’m not really connecting yet.

There’s another place I go that’s different to the ‘numb’ place. It’s a place of nothing at all. It’s a place I call ‘nothingness’. It’s a place where there are no feelings. There is absolutely nothing in this place. It’s hard to describe a place where there is nothing – no sound, no colour, no smell, no light, no darkness, no feelings, no hunger, no thirst, no desires, no shame, no hurt, no tiredness, no happiness, no hope, no sadness, no touch, no thinking, no guilt, no feeling ashamed, no, well no nothing - just nothing.

I’ve been scared of this ‘nothingness’ place but I think that ‘nothingness’ may be that silenced terrorised child. Maybe the ‘nothingness’ place is her. What did she do with those feelings she wasn’t allowed to have? They must be somewhere buried deep inside her because she had to bury them. Where are they?

I know that on the odd occasion I’ve allowed myself to feel … I feel violated to my very core … I feel an intensity of shame that goes far beyond the word ‘shame’ ... I feel dirty, filthy beyond words … I feel helpless … I feel naked and exposed … I feel alone, so very alone … I feel terror … I feel a type and depth of searing pain that goes way beyond any adjectives I know. I feel things I’ve not felt before, things I just cannot find words for.

But I don’t feel them for long because they’re so intense and scary. I wonder, are they her feelings or mine? Or a mixture of both? I dunno. But those feelings are there along with many I’ve not felt, noticed or identified yet.

12/08/10

THEIR CODE

2010-08-07T20:44:00.008+01:00

You do it our way or else there’ll be trouble
Don’t be a bother, just do as you’re told
Don’t dare tell, you’ll shame yourself not us
You’re just a silly little troublemaker

Remember we have an image to uphold
We are respectable church going people
Upstanding charity workers in the community
Who are you? Just a silly little troublemaker

You’re not welcome if you won’t do it our way
Play it by our code of behaving and acting
We can do what we choose and how we choose
Remember you’re just a silly little troublemaker

So I hid my shame, pretended all was well
I hid my past hoping it would go away
I tried to forget where I’d come from
Tried to forget I was a silly little troublemaker

I hid my pain, but it just grew worse and worse
I tried to bury my past but it refused to die
I lived behind a well worn fake smile hoping
It wasn't true, I wasn’t a silly little troublemaker

All the while my heart was broken and kept breaking
I so desperately wanted to tell, to speak the truth
But never thought anyone would take me seriously
Thought they’d think "she’s just a silly little troublemaker"

So I kept silent for years and years and it ate away
Till I knew it was a case of die or tell the truth
I had to take some huge risks and speak out
And hoped I wasn’t really just a silly little troublemaker

THE WORK OF HEALING

2010-08-03T23:52:00.001+01:00

“The work of healing is like finding, sorting and putting together the pieces of an ancient pot. The work is often tedious, and some of the slivers may be sharp and dangerous.

The result is a beautiful object, elegant in form and function, and in the tale it tells of its creation.

If put together carefully, it will also be watertight and can be filled with good things.”

~ Lost in the Mirror by Richard Moskovitz MD

HOME

2010-08-03T22:06:00.002+01:00

What does the word ‘home’ mean to you?

Safety, Security, Fun, Wanted, Happiness, Belonging, Understanding, Peace, Stability, Calm, Love, Freedom, Harmony, Pleasure, Choices, Laughter, Leisure time, Relaxation, Inclused, Soothing, Uninhibited, Peace and quiet, Enjoyment, Welcome, Friendly, Calm, Restful, Comfort

Or does the word ‘home’ mean to you?

Danger, Uncertainty, Sadness, Rejection, Isolation, Arguing, Violence, Not fitting in, Fear, Hatred, Abuse, Control, Apprehension, Loneliness, Uproar, Raised voices, Misery, Dejection, Helplessness, Terror, Aloneness, Tears, Aggression, Loneliness, Excluded, Fighting, Cruelty, Depravity, Sadism, Hostility, Brutality, Scary feelings, Not being wanted, Feeling frightened, Panic, Horror, Dread, Nightmares

BELOVED

2010-08-03T19:31:00.003+01:00

Beloved, I'm sorry that you had to go through the pain of the abuse in the first place
I'm sorry that you have to go through the pain of healing
I'm sorry you have to go through the pain of betrayal by friends and those who come across like they want to help
I am here for you
I want nothing but the best for you
I will help you heal
I love you deeply and intensely

DREAMS

2010-08-02T19:47:00.005+01:00

I spent my childhood dreaming . . .

Dreaming that one day I would meet my 'real' parents . . .

Dreaming that these people who called themselves my parents would turn out to have just adopted me because I couldn't believe anyone could be so deliberately and systematically cruel to their own flesh and blood. It was very lonely and isolating living in that hell hole with none to rescue me and just the dream that one day I'd meet my 'real' parents keeping me going

Sadly that childhood dream became a nightmare . . .

A nightmare of the agony of the realisation that they were my real parents and that there are no loving 'real' parents out there, and there never will be!!!

So I stopped dreaming

As the years passed the pain has not lessened but increased with the passage of time. It feels really unfair to have gone through all that pain in the first place. And it feels really unfair to know that in order to heal it will take excruciating pain and a lot of courage. I look at this mess of pain, shame, fear and broken dreams that I never caused in the first place and it all feels so unfair, I was an innocent child, I must never forget that.

The most unfair thing is how my life has been so devastated, shattered, destroyed, along with my childhood dream

But somehow I found the strength from within to start dreaming again . .

I dream that all my shattered pieces will be retrieved, none lost along the way . . .

I dream that this little humpty dumpty will be put back together again . .

I dream that one day the dark clouds will be chased away by nice fluffy white ones . . .

I dream that one day the storms will stop rumbling around and around and the sun will come out and stay out . . .

I dream that one day it won’t hurt to be alive . . .

I dream that one day it won’t hurt to remember . . .

I dream that one day it won’t hurt to be me . . .

And it is that dream that keeps me going . . .

It’s time to dream again and this time it is a nice dream and this time I promise to myself to not stop dreaming because the day I stop dreaming is the day I stop living

THAT'S EASY

2010-08-01T16:10:00.002+01:00

I read this little story this morning. It’s a simple little story but what a wonderful one!! When I read this something deep inside resonated and the simplicity of it released something inside. It touched me so much that I had to share it with you.

On a recent trip to visit the grandkids in the USA, we came upon an advertising campaign for a large office supply chain called Staples. They had adopted the slogan of “That’s Easy” to sell their customer service. It had taken root very well in American society and they were even selling a buzzer type button that audibly spoke “That’s Easy” when depressed.

One of these buzzer buttons made its way into our son’s home one evening through the church home group that was having their weekly meeting there. Our 4-year old grandson, Jacob, was greatly taken with this button and the noise it produced when depressed. As bedtime came, he insisted on taking the button upstairs to his bed with him. As our son Brett, finally settled him into bed and came down to rejoin the home group, we were all in prayer for our needs. As the person praying finished, in perfect timing, came the response from above; ”That’s Easy”.

It brought a good laugh to us and a “thank YOU Jesus” for HIS quick reply. As the next ones prayed in succession we were amazed again and again that at the end of each prayer came the auditory response from above of “That’s Easy”.

We all knew the real operator of the button was Jacob, but marvelled at the truth that although our burdens seem heavy, as we transfer them to Jesus …well for HIM, “That’s Easy” and we find our loads considerably lightened.

It left the impression with me to go quickly with my burdens to Jesus, because at his desk, I will find the “That’s Easy” button. There I can find rest instead of anxiety and burden.

God is waiting to receive your burdens and HIS response of “That’s Easy” is just a second away in reply.

Written by Sharon Bixler for Ellel Ministries International

Come to ME, all you who labour and are heavy-laden and over burdened. I will cause you to rest. I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls. Take MY yoke upon you and learn of ME. I am gentle, meek and humble, lowly in heart. You will find rest, relief, ease, refreshment, blessed quiet for your souls. MY yoke is wholesome, useful, good -- not harsh, hard, sharp, or pressing, but comfortable, gracious, and pleasant. MY burden is light and easy to be borne. Matthew 11:28-30 (Amplified Bible)

MIND YOUR MOUTH!!

2010-08-01T00:45:00.004+01:00

A friend sent me an article entitled ‘Mind Your Mouth’ today and I thought it was really good so I’m reproducing it below once I get past my own ruminations about it.

The article very gently challenged me to consider how I communicate and of the need to communicate with care and circumspection.

The observation that distressed people frequently need only limited information is so correct. I know from my own experience that my emotions and my mind/mental processes very quickly go on overload and I need to receive information and communications [verbal or written] in small manageable chunks to prevent that.

I think the bottom line for me when it comes to communication includes the following questions.

Am I communicating the love and compassion of Jesus?
I am hearing the love and compassion of Jesus?
Are my words more about judging and criticising?
Are my words likely to bring life and lift my reader/hearer or will they pull them down?
Am I feeling encouraged or discouraged by what I’m hearing/reading?

The answers to those questions inform my communication and also how I process what I’m hearing or reading from others.

‘Mind Your Mouth’ reminds me of the following scripture – “Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they who indulge in it shall eat the fruit of it [for death or life]” Proverbs 18:21

Mind Your Mouth!

“The upright honourable, intrinsically good man out of the good treasure stored in his heart produces what is upright, honourable and intrinsically good, and the evil man out of the evil storehouse brings forth that which is depraved, wicked and intrinsically evil; for out of the abundance (overflow) of the heart his mouth speaks” [Luke 6:45 Amplified]

Let's answer some communication questions:

1) What is good communication? It's honest, positively intended, two-way sharing. It isn't 'dumping' or giving someone a piece of your mind! The first law of verbal ecology is: garbage is not biodegradable! It recycles, festering with time.
"The words of a talebearer are as wounds... they go down into the innermost parts of the belly" [Proverbs 18:8]
"The words of a whisperer or talebearer… go down into the innermost parts of the body" [Proverbs 18: 8 Amplified]
Many a word accompanies the hearer to their grave.

2) What should we communicate? The truth.
'Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who deal truthfully are HIS delight' [Proverbs 12:22 NKJV]
“Lying lips are extremely disgusting and hateful to the Lord, but they who deal faithfully are HIS delight” [Proverbs 12: 22 Amplified]
But truth can be given like the blow of a sledgehammer or like a soothing hand of friendship.
“The heart of the righteous ponders how to answer, but the mouth of the wicked pours out evil things” [Proverbs 15:28 NAS]
“The mind of the uncompromisingly righteous studies how to answer, but the mouth of the wicked pours out evil things.” [Proverbs 15:28 Amplified]
It should be communicated after advance thought for its impact.

3) How much should we communicate? As much as God's Word, love and wisdom dictate.
“A fool uttereth all his mind: but a wise man keepeth it in till afterwards” [Proverbs 29:11]
“A self-confident fool utters all his anger, but a wise man holds it back and stills it” [Proverbs 29: 11 Amplified]
Children and distressed people frequently need only limited information.

4) How should we communicate? 'How' can be as important as 'what,' so speak with consideration for the hearer's feelings.
“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger” [Proverbs 15:1 NAS]
“A SOFT answer turns away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger” [Proverbs 15: 1 Amplified]
The hearer's response is conditioned by your words.

5) Check your timing; it's vital!
“It is wonderful to say the right thing at the right time” [Proverbs 15:23 NLT]
“A man has joy in making an apt answer, and a word spoken at the right moment - -how good it is!” [Proverbs 15: 23 Amplified]
If you're not certain about your timing, wait and pray for wisdom!

Taken from UCB Word for Today

DEAR GOD

2010-07-31T00:25:00.006+01:00

‎I came across the following 'prayer' on a friend's profile in facebook today and had to share it here, it is so beautiful and so precious.

I want to particularly dedicate this to all the wonderful women in my life; especially to those precious women who are walking alongside me on my healing journey, praying, encouraging and just being there. Thank you, your support is of immeasurable value to me and I just want you to know how special you are to me.

But I also would like dedicate this to all the wonderful women who visit here, especially fellow survivors. You are beautiful, strong, courageous, valuable women and you are welcome here, this is a safe space, bless you!!

Dear God:

The lady reading this is beautiful, classy and strong, and I love her.

Help her live her life to the fullest.

Please promote her and cause her to excel above her expectations.

Help her shine in the darkest places where it is impossible to love.

Protect her at all times, lift her up when she needs YOU the most, and let her know when she walks with YOU, she will always be safe.

Love You Girl!!!!

Author Unknown

SO MANY QUESTIONS

2010-07-28T14:25:00.004+01:00

I was reading a friend’s blog the other day and she posted an article about the why questions that abuse survivors live with. It started me thinking and I realise that I have many questions that reverberate around my mind, my emotions, my memories, my thoughts and my attempts to heal and move on. Some of the questions I know are rhetorical questions, others though I scream out for answers.

As a child it was “don’t speak bad about them, respect your parents, they are your parents and they are upstanding members of the church and pillars of the community”. Then as I became an adult the pressure put on me from people in the church to show my abusers love, forget what they did and put things right with them just because they were my parents was almost impossible to live with and caused me so much pain and confusion. [And that in spite of the fact that it was my parents who disowned me when THEY realised I was no longer prepared to be controlled by them.] Those same people continue to harbour my abusers in the church while I cannot even so much as darken the door of that church with my shadow.

Over the years I’ve had to cope with the “whatever they did they are still your parents and you should just forget it”. All of that just adds to the confusion I already have inside of me and makes it harder to heal, harder to survive, harder to keep going.

Some questions I’ve asked along the way, some I’ve given no voice to up until now. Some of them I know will never be answered but they are there nonetheless. So here’s a few of them.

Why is it that when it is family who are the abusers you are supposed to love them and want a relationship with them?

Why is it when it is family who are your abusers you are supposed to just forget it?

Why is it when it is family who are your abusers you shouldn’t take action against them?

Why is it that when it is family who are your abusers you should not seek justice?

Why did my mother seem to take so much pleasure in humiliating me that she laughed and laughed as she masterminded my torture over so many years?

Why would an adult sexually mess with a child?

How could an adult sexually mess with a child?

How could people be so consistently, deliberately and sadistically cruel to their own flesh and blood?

What was it about me that was so bad?

The hardest thing for me has been that the so called ‘church family’ rejected me just as much as my biological family. So many Christians when they realised how wounded and damaged, totally relationally impaired and untrusting I was and yet I purported to be a Christian and to love Jesus – fingers started to point and the ’should’ words began to be spoken and it was turned on me that it was my fault I was so screwed up. One Christian lady actually told me that she did not believe that I was a Christian because I was so depressed! That hurt me so much and added to my confusion.

Why is that so many Christians don’t get how you can be a Christian and be in such a mess. Why is that?

Instead of coming alongside me, giving me space to tell my story and helping, it was oh just forgive, forget, move on, it happened so long ago, stop harping on about it, stop dragging it up from the past. WHY IS THAT?

How can I ever forget 20 years of abuse and torture? It may have happened a long time ago, but I live with it every minute I’m awake and then in my nightmares when I do sleep. For me it is not in the past it is very much in the present.

How could I move on with none to help and walk alongside me?

How can I forgive when my abusers deny anything ever happened?

How can I forgive when my abusers say anything bad that ‘might’ have happened was because I such a bad person, they did nothing wrong?

How can my abusers carry on with their lives as if all is normal and nothing is wrong?

Why are churches and so many Christians so closed minded about the realities of living with past sexual abuse?

Why are churches and so many Christians so closed minded about the realities of the deep damage of childhood abuse and of the complexities of the healing processes?

Why do so many churches have systems in place to prevent abuse happening, but provide little or no support to REALLY help victims heal?

Why is it that so many Christians tell you that as you are a Christian, you are a new person so your past is gone, so all the stuff from your past abuse should be gone too?

Why is it that so many Christians tell you that you are doing something wrong if you aren’t healing from the damage of the abuse or if you don’t have joy etc?

Why do so many Christians tell you that if you read your bible enough and pray enough you should be fine? [Implying that you cannot be reading your bible or praying enough because you are a screwed up mess]

Why is it that so many Christians think you don’t need counselling or anything; you just need to get over it, forgive your abusers and forget it? WHY IS THAT?”

One of the hardest things I found in church was the use of language. Calling God ‘Father’ is a huge trigger for me, as is talking about having secret places, I understand about the secret place of time alone with God, but talking about secrets and secret places just triggers stuff. There are so many other words that are used in church which are triggers, I just can’t think of them right now. The hardest thing in going to church for me was leaving church afterwards and heading home. That always sent me into a depression. I couldn’t handle it because deep inside I was reminded that as child going home from church meant walking back into hell, it meant going home to punishment beatings, it meant going home to the isolation of being in that hell hole of a home with none to come to my rescue. Also, going home from church and seeing so many of the rest of my friends at church going home to be with friends and family, and hearing them talk about their plans to do so increased my sense of isolation of having none to eat Sunday lunch with. So often I left church feeling isolated and suicidal because of all those memories and all that pain so that in the end I stopped going to church to avoid going through that pain each week.

Why is it that all these years later going home from church should trigger so much painful stuff, that now I cannot face going to church because I just cannot face that pain of going home from church alone anymore?

Why is it that church is full of so many Christians who are simply not honest about the real struggles so many of us face in our attempts to survive and deal with the damage caused by our past abuse?

Why is it that church is the one place I avoid because I know I don’t fit people’s ideals as to what being a Christian should be?

Why is it that church is the one place that I avoid simply because I cannot face the questions and the ‘should’ statements anymore?

Why is it that so many Christians are blind to the work that God is doing in my life because I’m not healing in the way or at the pace that they think I ‘should’ be?

Why is it that I walk so closely with Jesus because I have to, I would not be alive if I didn’t, and yet feel such a misfit when I do summon up the courage to go to church?

The wonderful thing is that God has now brought some wonderful professional experienced amazing women into my life who are all giving me hope and walking alongside me, believing in me. I know I will heal now, although I know it will be a long journey.

My heart was broken twice over, once by my birth family and second by the church family.

But thankfully I do now have a very small handful of Christian friends who see the real me who underneath that fake smile so desperately wants to heal. Thank you to all of you who are supporting me in my journey. Thank you for walking alongside me and praying for me, even though you may not always understand what is going on. You are slowly and surely restoring my trust and showing me the love and compassion of my Safe Daddy.

It’s wonderful that I have a voice now through this site. I love how God is connecting me with so many survivors over the internet and through this blog.

YOUR HEART IS HURTING

2010-07-27T22:13:00.002+01:00

During the last couple of weeks I’ve been walking through possibly the hardest days of my healing journey so far. All I’ve been able to do has been to cry out to my Safe Daddy and my big bruvver Jesus, knowing that they were closer to me than I will ever realise and were carrying me through this almost unbearable time. Yesterday I came across the following passage in a bible study and was just so encouraged by it and reminded that Safe Daddy knows every single tiny detail of what’s going on. Just at the point when I felt I couldn’t take another step HE jumped in and picked me up, gave me a big hug and refocused me, and all with HIS enormous compassion that always encourages and restores hope.

Your heart is hurting. Fear is creeping toward you trying to confront you full face. Do not let that happen. Stop it in its tracks in MY Name. Trust ME with your whole heart. Bring to mind when I’ve brought good things in the past when you saw no way for them to happen. I will bring the full weight of MY glory to the situation. I always do the best. I always cause all things working together for good. I am God and there is no other. You are MY child and I will never leave or forsake you and yours.
Up until now you haven't seen yourself as being very strong, but that is changing. I’ve never seen you the way you have seen yourself because I’ve seen your heart. Now you are beginning to see yourself as I see you. I’ve seen you relying on ME through hard times and that pleases me. You have been thinking harder times are coming. No, not at all, good times are ahead. Ready yourself for what is coming. Anticipate what I am bringing. Allow your mind to be filled with MY blessings and goodness. You become stronger believing in MY goodness.
There are thoughts rumbling around in your head that are not good for you or anyone else. The only thing that will work is forgiveness. Yes, I know you’ve done it but do it again, make your choice to forgive again. Ask ME for cleansing. MY blood was shed for you and you do not have to carry it around in your mind. It is detrimental to your health and well being. Dump the load that was dumped on you. Forgive again. Stay free precious one. Forgive again and again each time you think of what happened or any of the surrounding circumstances. Your forgiveness does not in any way excuse the one who hurt you. Keep on forgiving and you will be free. That is what 70 x 7 means in Scripture...keep on forgiving. Don't choose the way of bitterness or unforgiveness. Choose MY way of faith, hope and love. MY way is the way of peace and joy.
Confusion has come and has affected your peace of mind. Rely not on your own thinking or wisdom. Precious one, don't worry. I know circumstances are difficult, you will make it through. Even though you don't see a way now there is a way. I have the way, you will weather it. Keeping a positive mindset will help keep you stable. MY Spirit keeps your positive mindset stable, if you focus on ME. MY Spirit communes with your spirit and peace results in your centre.
Relax and be at peace. I am with you. I know it is hard to keep your mind trusting. Keep your mind focused on MY love, care and peace. Tell ME your deepest thoughts and fears. Believe in ME and MY goodness. Thank ME for delivering you in times past. Those are the things you need to focus on, that is the kind of thinking that will get you through. You are hidden in ME and I live within you. Settle down here beside ME. Everything is alright, you are here with ME and I am with you.

Isaiah 26:3-4 (Amplified Bible)
YOU will guard him and keep him in perfect and constant peace whose mind [both its inclination and its character] is stayed on YOU, because he commits himself to YOU, leans on YOU, and hopes confidently in YOU. So trust in the Lord (commit yourself to HIM, lean on HIM, hope confidently in HIM) forever; for the Lord God is an everlasting rock

THE SILVERSMITH

2010-07-17T08:36:00.004+01:00

Are you in the refiner’s fire today? If you are don’t rebel or try to run away, just sit still and let the refiner do HIS work. The bible says “HE will sit like a refiner of silver, burning away the dross. HE will purify them, refining them like gold and silver, so that they may once again offer acceptable sacrifices to the Lord.”

A woman who read this verse wanted to know how it related to her walk with God, so she made an appointment with the silversmith. Without mentioning anything other than a general interest in the process, she sat and observed him work. She watched as he held the silver over the fire, explaining that in order to burn away every impurity he had to keep it in the middle where it was hottest. She asked him if he usually sat in front of the fire the whole time. ‘Yes’ he replied, ‘not only do I have to hold it, I must watch it. If I leave it there too long it will be destroyed.’ After thinking about that for a while she asked ‘how do you know when the process is complete?’ Smiling, he replied ‘that’s easy, I see my face reflected in it.’

Remember – (a) HE knows what HE’S doing, so trust HIM (b) HE won’t allow you to be destroyed by the circumstances or take HIS eye off you (c) when the process is complete, you’ll be more like Jesus and less like your old self.

Isn’t that what you really want?

“HE will sit as a refiner of silver” Malachi 3: 3

Taken from UCB Word for Today

KEEP YOUR HOPE ALIVE

2010-07-11T16:05:00.002+01:00

It’s amazing how God is bringing to my attention scriptures about security and safety at the moment. God knows that there’s a lot of fear and uncertainty swirling around me and that I need a lot of reassurance. Fear is not a strong enough word, at times it is sheer terror. I have so many questions and so much uncertainty and insecurity but HE is so incredibly good to me as I wobble about.

Thank you my dear SAFE DADDY for reaching out to your terrified little girl and saying “I am with you, I know, I understand, it’s ok”.

Thank you Jesus, my big bruvver, for your gentle and yet strong presence that comforts and sustains me. I can’t see my tormentors for dust when you, my big bruvver, turns up, they know they’re no match for YOU. Jesus, my wonderful big bruvver, it’s sometimes so hard to feel your presence because of the trauma and uncertainty I’m experiencing. But thank you that you’re there in the trauma, insecurity and uncertainty bringing your gentle peace, calming me deep inside and saying “peace, be still, my precious one, all is well, I am with you”.

Thank you dear Holy Spirit for bringing to my attention those things which SAFE DADDY wants to comfort me with. Thank you too for nudging me towards those things that my wonderful SAFE DADDY wants me to draw strength and hope from at this time.

YOU SHALL BE SECURE AND FEEL CONFIDENT BECAUSE THERE IS HOPE, YES YOU SHALL SEARCH ABOUT YOU AND YOU SHALL TAKE YOUR REST IN SAFETY, YOU SHALL LIE DOWN AND NONE SHALL MAKE YOU AFRAID - Job 11: 18

NEVER ALONE IN THE FIRE

2010-07-10T19:16:00.001+01:00

No weapon forged against you will prevail... Isaiah 54:17

If you could talk with the three Hebrew children about their experience with the Lord in the fiery furnace, perhaps they would describe it this way: The fire was all over us. Our robes were ablaze, yet amazingly, our skin was untouched. We had no idea what was going on. Then something moved among the ashes; we were not alone. Suddenly, out of the smoke came a shining, gleaming person! We never got HIS name; HE never said it. HE never said anything. But just knowing HE was there brought such comfort. HIS presence protected us in the midst of the crisis. Now, we do not mean to say that the fire went out, or that the heat was reduced. No, it still burned, but the brightness of the flames was eclipsed by the brightness of HIS presence. 'We never saw HIM again; HE showed up only when we needed HIM. One thing is sure however, looking back, we are glad they dragged us from the presence of the wicked king into the presence of the Righteous One! In HIS company we learned that, "No weapon forged against you will prevail. You will refute every tongue that accuses you. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord."'

Are you walking through a fiery trial today? If so, you are not alone - God is with you! Take courage! When HE brings you out you will know HIM better, trust HIM more, and have something to say that will make others want to listen.

From UCB Word For Today

COMPASSION

2010-07-10T19:14:00.001+01:00

What follow are some quotes on compassion which caught my eye.

My thoughts on compassion are compassion is what always motivated Jesus in HIS interactions with people when HE walked on this earth. It is compassion which continues to motivate Jesus in HIS expressions of love and understanding towards me and in HIS work to bring healing to my life. It is always with compassion that Jesus reaches out in love. HIS compassion is the most incredible thing that you will ever feel. Just one glance into HIS eyes and HIS compassion reaches deep inside me and enables me to respond to HIM. Jesus is reaching out to you and to me with the most incredible compassion that in trying to describe it I run out of words. So, take a moment and glance towards HIM and allow HIS compassion to reach into those deepest darkest places inside of you and bring you hope.

Compassion is the keen awareness of the interdependence of all things - Thomas Merton

Compassion is the ultimate and most meaningful embodiment of emotional maturity. It is through compassion that a person achieves the highest peak and deepest reach in his or her search for self-fulfilment - Arthur Jersild

Compassion is not sentiment but is making justice and doing works of mercy. Compassion is not a moral commandment but a flow and overflow of the fullest human and divine energies - Matthew Fox

The whole purpose of religion is to facilitate love and compassion, patience, tolerance, humility, forgiveness - H.H. the Dalai Lama

Always treat others as you'd like to be treated yourself ... Don't do to others what you would not like them to do to you -Karen Armstrong charterforcompassion.org

Judgement

2010-07-08T22:20:00.001+01:00

JUDGEMENT IS NOT ABOUT DESTRUCTION, BUT ABOUT SETTING THINGS RIGHT

The Shack, p.169

I'm A Wannabe Eagle!!!

2010-06-23T13:47:00.003+01:00

Isaiah 40:31

Thanks Eve for pointing me to this one. I happen to really love this verse from the Amplified version. I'm flapping my wings to try to take off and see if I fly. I dare to try, I dare to fly, I dare to get close knowing HE won't turn me away!!!

31
But those who wait for the Lord [who expect, look for, and hope in Him] shall change and renew their strength and power; they shall lift their wings and mount up [close to God] as eagles [mount up to the sun]; they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint or become tired.

The Most Beautiful Garment

2010-06-22T18:46:00.005+01:00

I came across the following article a couple of days ago and it so helped me that I thought I'd reproduce it here.

"[HE has sent me] to provide for those who grieve in Zion, to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." Isaiah 61:3

This morning, as I was listening to the news, something caught my attention. The presenter was talking about a relatively new way to ‘cure’, or counter-attack depression. It was a method called Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation, recognized in the US and Israel, but still being tested in other places, which involves stimulating with a magnet the area of our brain, as big as a 50p coin, that regulates our emotions (whether it’s sadness or joy). A doctor explained that, when we are depressed, this part of our nervous system is almost non-active, hence the idea of stimulating it to improve the spirits of the patient. My curiosity aroused, I listened closely, as they debated the efficiency of this innovation.

Soon after, as I was reading Isaiah 61, the Lord suddenly struck a chord in my heart with the verse above – ‘Ashes’, ‘mourning’, ‘despair’. God was talking about depression there! HE was basically saying that HE’D sent and anointed Jesus as THE remedy against depression. It suddenly dawned on me that scientists had been looking for a way to improve or heal the symptoms of depression but they often by passed the real, broken-heart condition of a person. This verse, however, tells us of a God of compassion, who brings real healing, HIS healing, to those that are desperate, helpless, hopeless (‘flat’, as the part of our brain that we mentioned earlier).

It’s interesting that Isaiah describes the contrary of a ‘spirit of despair’ as a ‘garment of praise!’ When I was a teenager I remember being incapable of singing because my heart had been so broken. I despaired when I realised how much ‘spark’ had gone out of me, and how I’d got to the point of just letting life go on around me. But little by little God’s love undertook a major work of healing in me, and one day, to my amazement, I found myself able to sing worship songs. I could literally feel my spirit breathe, and knew God had already accomplished a huge work of restoration in me. David said in Psalm 23:3, ‘HE restores my soul’ and it’s my prayer that those who are mourning today should experience that restoration. - Claudia Chaigne

Jesus, thank YOU so much for the hope YOU bring to me. YOU’VE come to heal the broken-hearted and YOU were anointed by God. Lord, I pray that today YOU’D give me a garment of praise in place of a broken and desperate spirit. I come to YOU because YOU ARE interested in me, and because YOU have compassion for me. Thank YOU that I can come to YOU with my broken heart and uncertain desperate spirit and know YOU receive me and gently restore me.

FATHER'S DAY THOUGHTS

2010-06-20T13:15:00.004+01:00

It’s Father's Day today. I’ve tried to ignore it coming up but have been unable to, reminders are everywhere. I didn’t want to wake up and see today. I wanted today to pass and me not be part of it.

The hurt of my father's abuse is almost unbearable, the betrayal and the pain are so deep. That little girl seems frozen in time; frozen in the moment of that first betrayal; frozen in the moment of that first act of rape; frozen in the moment of things she has no words for; frozen in the moment of that first shattering of her trust by the man she thought was her daddy; frozen in the moment of realising the man she thought was safe wasn’t; frozen in the moment of realization that the man she thought loved her, loved her the wrong way and caused her such unbearable pain.

That 9-year old little girl lives inside of me; she is slowly finding a voice; she is slowly finding words for those things she had no words for; she is slowly realising it is ok to tell; she is slowly realising she is believed; she is slowly realizing she is safe now. It’ll take her a long time to realise that she was not to blame; it’ll take her a long time to realise that it wasn’t her fault; it’ll take her a long time to get unfrozen; but one day she will because she has begun the journey of telling; and that journey leads to healing and being able to move on from the pain; I am so very proud of her for finding the courage to begin that journey.

I'm thankful I've got a SAFE Daddy in my eternal Father, who one day I'll be able to call Father without deep pain. I cannot speak the word ‘father’; the pain inside of me when I do is indescribable and tears right through me. But I am so glad that my eternal Father knows all of that and has been helping me the last few months to get to know HIM as DADDY, as my SAFE DADDY. It was a long and arduous journey to reach the point where I could call HIM 'Daddy' without searing pain but I can now and I love to call HIM 'Daddy' now. I'm so glad that HIS patience is so infinite and HIS knowledge of me so deep, intimate and safe.

When I call HIM ‘Hi DADDY’ I hear HIM reply ‘hello sweet daughter' in HIS gentle tones which are so precious to hear. And I have a picture of HIM lifting me up in HIS arms, way up over HIS head, laughing as HE does so and then enfolding me in those safe arms that will never hurt me or wander where they shouldn’t.

I love being HIS little girl, knowing HIS love for me is SAFE. HIS love for me is so very SAFE. I know I can rest in HIS arms knowing they are SAFE arms. But I still wriggle around a lot and jump out as soon as I start getting uncomfortable and scared. But that’s ok, this is a work in progress, and HE knows why I am so afraid and uncomfortable. One day I know I’ll stop wriggling and just rest there. But it doesn’t matter how long it takes us to get there, I just know we will one day. And in that day I will be able to look into HIS eyes and call HIM ‘Father’ and it will feel ok.

But for now HE is my SAFE DADDY whose love is healing those deep places inside of me that were so torn and betrayed so that my trust in HIM is slowly deepened little by little.

My SAFE DADDY is so very precious to me. My SAFE Daddy's love makes life bearable and helps me face each day, knowing I'm SAFE with HIM + HIS love is SAFE, thanks Daddy!

And HE Shall Be Called 'I AM'

2010-06-20T13:12:00.003+01:00

A friend sent me this and I thought it was so good I had to share it here.

I am The I AM

I AM The Lord YOUR God
I AM The Lord YOUR Righteousness
I AM The Anointed One
I AM The Christ
I AM The Messiah
I AM The Lord of All
I AM The Maker of All Things
I AM The Everlasting Light of the World
I AM The Light Which Also Sends the Light
I AM The Source of Life
I AM Eternal Life
I AM YOUR Salvation
I AM Freedom From Sin
I AM The Passover
I AM The LAMB of God
I AM The Redeemer
I AM The Ransom
I AM The Prince of Peace
I AM YOUR Strength
I AM The Glorious One on High
I AM The Image of God
I AM The Keeper of MY Saints
I AM The Lover of Souls
I AM The Resurrection and The Life
I AM The Beloved One of Men’s Hearts
I AM The One in Which All Rejoice
I AM The Song of Your Heart
I AM The One, Alone, Worthy of Worship and Praise
I AM The Kingdom
I AM The Power
I AM The Glory
I AM The Creation
I AM The Wisdom
I AM The One Who Is
I AM Forever
I AM The Father
I AM The Joy
I AM The Beholder of Life
I AM The King of kings
I AM The Only God
I AM The Love That Never Dies
I AM The Protector
I AM The One Who Reigns Forever
I AM The Alpha
I AM The Omega
I AM The Author
I AM also The Finisher
I AM The Word
I AM The Very Breath of Life
I AM The Sanctuary
I AM YOUR Faith
I AM YOUR Closest Friend
I AM YOUR Sacrifice
I AM The Bright and Morning Star
I AM coming quickly
I AM The Reaper
I AM also The Sower
I AM The Existence
I AM The Water of Life
I AM also YOUR Bread, The Very Manna from Heaven
I AM The Way
I AM The Truth
I AM The Life
I AM The Saviour
I AM The Risen One
I AM The Conqueror
I AM The Authority
I AM The Shepherd
I AM The One to Whom Sing the Hosts of Heaven
I AM The Fulfilment of All Things
I AM The Faithful and True Witness
I AM Holy
I AM The Seat
I AM Mercy
I AM also Wrath and Justice
I AM YOUR Servant
I AM The Healer
I AM HE Who Searches the Hearts and Minds
I AM The Judgment
I AM The Cornerstone
I AM The Rock
I AM The Tree
I AM also The Branch
I AM The Son of David
I AM The Peace for All Times
I AM in YOU
I AM The Day Star Who Arises in the hearts of men
I AM The Voice
I AM The Counsellor
I AM The Hope
I AM YOUR Heart’s Desire
I AM The One Who Holds the Keys
I AM The Bestower of Gifts
I AM Long-Suffering
I AM The Reward
I AM The Salvation Day
I AM The Horn of Salvation
I AM God’s Salvation, The Messiah
I AM YahuShua HAMashiach
I AM The First Born from the Dead
I AM The First Born Over All Creation
I AM The First Fruit
I AM YOUR High Priest
I AM The Face of God
I AM The Image of The Invisible God
I AM The Holy One of Israel
I AM The Mediator
I AM The Mighty and Strong One
I AM The Right Arm of God
I AM The Strong One of Jacob
I AM The Lion of Judah
I AM The Warrior of God Who Needs No Weapon
I AM The One with the Double-Edged Sword in HIS Mouth
I AM HE Who Sits on the White Horse
I AM HE Who is Coming on the Clouds
I AM HE Who Will Shine from the East Unto the West
I AM The Son of Man
I AM HE Who Holds the Iron Sceptre
I AM The Lord of Lords
I AM HE Who Holds the Seven Stars in HIS Right Hand
I AM HE Who Has Eyes Like FLAMING Fire
I AM HE Who Wears the Golden Sash
I AM The First and The Last
I AM HE Who Died and is Alive Forevermore
I AM The Conqueror of Death
I AM The One Who Has the Sevenfold Spirit of God
I AM The One Who Has the Key of David
I AM HE Who Opens Doors that No One Can Shut
I AM The Ruler
I AM The One Who Sits at The Right Hand of God
I AM The In All, Be All, of Existence
I AM The True Vine
I AM The Love That Never Fades
I AM The Inspiration
I AM The Star out of Jacob
I AM Almighty
I AM Reachable
I AM Close to YOU
I AM YOUR Helper
I AM YOUR Comfort
I AM YOUR Rear Guard
I AM The One Who Longs to Hold YOU
I AM HE Who Gathers You to HIM
I AM Lord of Heaven and Earth
I AM YOUR Advocate
I AM YOUR Cloak
I AM The Holy Presence
I AM The Spirit
I AM The Anchor
I AM The Beloved of Men
I AM The Nectar of Life
I AM The Restoration of All Things
I AM The Holder of the Book of Life
I AM HE Who Has Loved YOU Before the Foundation of the Earth
I AM HE Through Which YOU Were Made
I AM YOUR Tears of Joy
I AM Christ Jesus

I AM for YOU and YOU for ME

I AM Yeshua, The Gift

I AM The AMEN

I AM The All in All... I AM

LIMBO

2010-06-16T19:46:00.002+01:00

Limbo - how can I describe it to you?
It’s a place that I really don’t like
It’s a very uncertain place too
It makes me squirm deep inside
And it makes me want out, big time
I hate the loss of control that it creates
Although I never had no control before
It all just creates a very helpless feeling
Like someone’s snatched something from me
Snatched control from out of my hands
The not knowing when it’ll come to an end
Is a really bad feeling I’m struggling to find words for
I just want to get on to the next phase
Outta this horrible place called ‘limbo’
The waiting for something to happen to move things on
And not being able to do anything to influence it
Is really horrible, I feel strangely disempowered
It feels like a very lonely, empty, pointless, helpless place
A place created by someone else’s design and decision
I know it would be so much easier if I stopped stressing
And managed to find a way to accept that I’m here in ‘limbo’
And can’t do nothing about it to speed things up
But I can’t cos everything within me is straining
Screaming out for relief, for something to happen PLEASE
Or at least to know how long it’s gonna last
To get back at least some semblance of control
And ease the feeling of being lost in this place called ‘limbo’
Lost and forgotten, kind of pushed to one side
Cos that’s how it feels and it’s a scary insecure feeling
That makes everything wobble around me like crazy
I just want it to end, I just want out of this place called ‘limbo’

16/06/10

Never Alone When You Know And Have Jesus!

2010-06-07T13:52:00.000+01:00

Do you need me?
I AM JESUS CHRIST
I am there
You cannot see ME, yet, I am the light you see by
You cannot hear ME, yet, I speak through your voice
You cannot feel ME, yet, I AM the power at work through your hands
I AM at work, though you do not understand MY ways
I AM at work, though you do not recognize MY works
I AM not strange visions, I AM no mystery
Only in absolute stillness, beyond self
Can you know ME as I AM ~ then
But as a feeling and as a faith.
Yet I AM here.
Yet I hear.
Yet I answer.
When you need ME, I AM there.
Even if you deny ME, I AM there.
Even in your fears, I AM there.
Even in your pain, I AM there.
I AM there when you pray and when you do not pray.
I AM in you and you are in ME.
Only in your mind can you feel separate from ME
Only in your mind are the myths of "yours" and "mine."
Yet only in your mind can you know ME and experience ME.
Empty your heart of empty fears. When you get yourself out of the
way, I AM there.
You can of yourself do nothing, but I can do all.
And, I AM in all.
Though you may not see the good, good is there, for I AM there.
I AM there because I have to be, for I AM.
Only in ME does the world have meaning.
Only in ME does the world take form.
Only because of ME the world goes forward.
I AM the law in which the movement of the stars and the growth of living
cells are founded.
I AM the Love that is fulfilling.
I AM the assurance.
I AM the peace.
I AM the oneness.
I AM the law that you can live by.
I AM the Love that you can cling to.
I AM your assurance.
I AM your peace.
I AM the one with you.
I AM.
Though you fail ME, I do not fail you.
Though your faith is in ME is unsure, MY faith never waivers, because I
know you, because I love you.
BELOVED, I AM there
I AM JESUS CHRIST IN THE HOLY SPIRIT.

Written by Apostle James Winfree, 31 May 2010

SECRETS

2010-05-28T14:13:00.001+01:00

Secrets can be very powerful things but not all secrets are bad; some secrets can be good ones but the bad ones, well they’ve kept me in prison for many years; in prison to the fear of what reaction will I get should I find the guts to tell? If I tell will I be believed?

Oh the darkness of them; the fear of disclosure; the fear of what might happen should my dark secrets be discovered; the fear of not being believed; the prison of events kept secret by the secrets themselves; the prison of the promises forced from me; the prison of the threats that kept me quiet; the prison of the feelings of dirtiness that keeping those secrets causes and the dirtiness of that acts that led to those secrets

The only way through is to find the guts from somewhere to take the risk of telling and not being believed; to take the risk of being accused of making it up because the secrets cover up horrors that are so bad it’s hard to believe those things could have happened though I know they did; to take the risk and break rules that were bad rules; rules which have kept me scared silent and trapped in the darkness of the secrets

If I tell what will people think? If I tell will the bad things I was told would happen if I ever told, actually happen? If I tell will people take me seriously? Or will they think this is just too far fetched and cannot be true? It’s really scary to tell it as it really was, it’s a horrible vulnerable feeling, somehow it’s easier to carry on keeping quiet, maintaining those secrets than to face the fear and the vulnerability of disclosure

Trouble is keeping those secrets secret perpetuates the darkness inside which eats away and eats away; over the years it’s got impossible to maintain those secrets and they’ve been leaking out, a little bit here and a little bit there; it’s got harder and harder to keep quiet but the fear of telling is what’s kept me quiet all these years, all the threats of what would happen if I ever told

But maintaining those secrets takes up so much energy, energy I don’t have; it’s hard work keeping secrets but it’s so hard and scary to let those secrets out too but I know in the long term I’ll be better for having found the guts to speak the truth and let go those secrets, letting them out takes away their power over me and stops them eating away at my insides

I feel like I’ve been living a double life all these years, I’ve not been lying but I’ve not been telling the whole truth; covering up, protecting those who hurt me out of misplaced loyalty but now those days are over, I can’t do that no more; I reached a point where I had to tell, I could not keep them inside any longer, but it’s been real scary and I’m feeling so wobbly and insecure

I’m afraid of a backlash; there must be some punishment for breaking the rules and letting those secrets out, I was told so many times what terrible things would happen to me if I ever told on them but in amongst the fear there’s also a voice inside saying “Fi, it’s ok, it’s going to be ok, you’re safe now, you can let those secrets out, you are going to get through this”

It’s a relief to tell, it’s so good to know I’m being believed, it’s good to know those secrets no longer hold power over me and it’s good to be rid of that dark cloud and that darkness inside, I hope one day I’ll feel clean of all the dirt and grime that came along with those secrets, I hope one day to get rid of the shame that was attached to those secrets too

26/05/10

Woman of Worth! Beloved! Highly favoured one! You are royalty!!

2010-05-26T10:53:00.004+01:00

I woke this morning feeling very fragile and battered by life. I switched on my laptop and discovered the following blessing in my inbox.

It picked me up, wrapped me in a big bear hug, lifted my head off my chest, wiped the tears away, put the sparkle back in my eyes, the spring back in my step, put a smile on my face and reminded me WHO my strength is and WHY it is that I keep going.

I just had to share it with you and I hope it blesses and encourages you like it did me.

You may have gone to bed last night weary and wondering how, when and why?

But thank God you woke up this morning and placed your feet on the floor
And when you did, I'm sure the enemy said... "DARN, she is up again!"

That's right. You are up again, you may still be discouraged, but you are not defeated!

You are up again! Your head is up! Your gratitude is up! Your faith is up! You are standing up on your faith.

You live by faith and not by sight.

You are growing in HIS love and knowledge

Woman of Worth! Beloved! Highly favoured one! You are royalty!!

Because you belong to HIM, you are HIS child, you are up and ready to make it through and up out of your temporary circumstances

Make sure you pray, and pray believing God will answer

May today be all you need it to be

May the Peace of God, the LOVE of your Heavenly Daddy and the freshness of the Holy Spirit rest and abide in your thoughts, rule in your life, and conquer all your fears

May the true shepherd, Jesus, lead you beside still waters, restoring your soul

May goodness and mercy follow you today & always, and may you dwell in HIS presence forever!

May God manifest HIMSELF today in ways you have never experienced

May you find joy alone in HIM, and your prayers be answered. I pray that your faith increases

May HIS amazing grace be multiplied to you!

Someone once said, "Aging puts wrinkles on the body, quitting puts wrinkles on the soul."

Keep running your race, keep your eyes UP and looking ahead to JESUS, the Author and Finisher of your faith!

"I pray that God's great power will make you strong, and that you will have JOY as you wait and do not give up." Colossians 1:11

Written by Naomi Batya

A COUPLE OF QUOTES

2010-05-23T23:44:00.005+01:00

I came across these two quotes earlier today and thought, yep they need to go on my blog.

“

Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore

” Andre Gide

“

Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; Courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen

” Winston Churchill

I would add too that it takes courage to stay alive; it takes courage to live with all this stuff; it takes courage to tell the truth as it was and it takes courage to find a way through it. Sometimes I feel the fear and just have to feel the fear and do it afraid!!!

and here's another quote that caught my eye -

“I can’t change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination.”

Jimmy Dean

HE HAS ENLARGED MY STEPS

2010-05-22T14:38:00.001+01:00

HE has enlarged my steps under me so that my feet have not slipped

2 Samuel 22:37

As I was reading that scripture today I had a picture which brought the verse to life for me.

In the picture I saw myself walking behind Jesus. We were climbing up a steep and rocky mountain path, the kind of path that it’s so easy to slip and turn an ankle on. I watched as I followed HIM up along the pathway.

I noticed that each step I took as I climbed I was stepping into the impressions that HIS footsteps left. HIS footsteps were much bigger than mine. As my feet were so much smaller than HIS they fitted into HIS bigger footsteps and were protected from slipping and turning on the steep ground by the greater depth as well as length and breadth of HIS footsteps.

Wow, what a revelation and what reassurance that brought to my heart!!!

IT'S OKAY IF YOU FALL, YOU CAN JUST GET UP AGAIN

2010-05-12T19:13:00.000+01:00

IT’S OKAY IF YOU FALL
YOU CAN JUST GET UP AGAIN
WHY DON’T YOU LOOK UP AT THE SKY
WHILE YOU’RE DOWN THERE
THE BLUE SKY SPREADS ACROSS ABOVE YOU
CAN YOU SEE IT SMILING AT YOU?
YOU ARE ALIVE?

http://networkedblogs.com/3LvFb

JESUS MY BIG BRUVVER

2010-05-07T06:06:00.007+01:00

It was around the 20th of April that I was talking to Jesus one evening and ruminating with HIM about the many ways that HE reveals HIMSELF to me. At times it is mind boggling how multi faceted God is in HIS relationship with me.

During this conversation with Jesus I mentioned the word 'brother'. As I did so I had such a strong reaction inside me that it stopped me in my tracks and I said to HIM "oh no I did not realise that I have such an issue with you as my elder brother, I am so sorry that I do and I wish I didn't". And HE gently reassured me that HE knows all about it and why I feel like that and that HE is going to bring healing so that I can relate to HIM in that way without any feelings of shame or fear.

My biological brother was massively abusive towards me. He was a bully and manipulator. In some ways he was as much a victim as I was. But in other ways he was an abuser and bully who showed me no mercy and did not protect me as a big brother should have. I recognise part of it was protecting his position. However, it does NOT excuse what he did.

So over the last couple of weeks or so Jesus has been helping me get to know HIM as my big brother. Massive healing has happened in a very short space of time as I've made huge steps in that.

I realised only a couple of days ago that I'm comfortable with HIM as my big bro and I’ve come a long way in no time at all.

I now have a big ‘bruvver’ who really cares for HIS little sister and will protect and look out for me. HE will not take advantage of me or use me for HIS own ends or manipulate me in any way. HE will not belittle me but will help me because HE wants only the best for HIS little sister. HE is kind, loving and supportive and will never raise HIS hand or voice to me. I can be safe with HIM, HE wants me to be, and do you know what, I am safe with my big bro now!!

Around the same time as HE began to help me with this Jesus also gave me a vision of me and HIM walking together beside a peaceful stream. I was dressed in flowing white robes. And I reacted from deep inside and said I cannot wear those robes, I shouldn't be wearing them. And HE said, "oh my dear beloved, I see you pure, I see you so so pure and I love your purity, your purity is so very precious to me, you remember terrible violation and feel so violated by all that happened but I see you pure, you are totally pure to me". HE spoke with such compassion and deep love it was breathtaking. I can still see myself with HIM in those white robes and I believe HE is deliberately making sure that picture remains lodged in my mind's eye.

At the time I did not recognise how the two linked together. But deep inside I'd carried a very deep sense of shame about some of the things my brother forced me to do and the violation that was of me at every level. Part of HIS healing has been to enable me to relax with Jesus as my big brother by removing that shame off of me and that HE has done.

I am amazed and astounded at the healing that has happened in such a very short space of time.

TRUST IN JESUS

2010-05-04T21:21:00.001+01:00

Don't rush ...just trust in Jesus Christ

When our day is filled with plans...we must remember to stay in Jesus hands

We must remember that only Jesus can know...how our day will really go

We must not yield to our own way...but abandon our will to Jesus and pray

Jesus alone is who we must trust when we feel the urge to rush

When we're tired and feel alone...we must take refuge at Jesus throne

So often things tell us to rush...while there's a gentle voice saying..."just trust"

Jesus love in us yet abounds...through all our ups and all our downs

By Winfree James