As we come to a close...

I had no idea the ride would end this soon. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined what peace would feel like. Peace is like sleeping on a fluffy pillow or a soft, silky cloud. For those who have never felt it, it's far more than words can describe.

As I come to the end of my journey, I realize it is the end because I am no longer driven to write. I can say with much assuredness, that there is no greater battle in which to fight. Survivors, keep up the fight, don't stop now, you're almost there. No matter what anyone says, it's far more difficult to continue on the way you have been for so long than to reach out and get the help you need. Take the necessary steps to gain control over your life,  for the first time.

I am overcome with emotions as I type. There are not words for the way I feel inside after the burning pain that I've endured for so long. No words for those who have been instrumental in my transformation.

My identity has now changed and I will be taking the steps, one-at-a-time, to figure out who I am exactly. I feel as though I am now clay and can be formed in any way I choose. Thankfully, my Father is a potter and I will bend at His will. Like a Willow tree that loosely hangs and gently sways in the breeze, I am now floating through this life.

I have been set free.

The girl with two-faces

I've always felt as though I was two completely different people. Though I do not suffer from multiple personality disorder, like others who have been victims to unspeakable atrocities, I have still always known there were two of me.

There is the person that I was born to be, loving, generous, patient and kind, and the girl that I became because of the abuse. She was short-tempered, over-the-top, inpatient, scared, hurt, and screaming on the inside for some sort of relief from the horrible pain that burned. Those who didn't know her well only saw the latter. I'd like to call her "Hope". She spent her entire life fighting, fleeing, aching and desperately searching for inner peace. Often in the wrong things like alcohol, men and her latest favorite RETAIL THERAPY, which was shortly followed by her good friend "buyer's remorse". The former person, Faith, knew that there was so much more to herself but could not manage to break free.

It was shear torment for Faith to watch as Hope built walls that were often impossible to be torn down. Slowly, she refused to go in public for fear of what "ridiculous" thing that might escape Hope's mouth next. As she prepared for family functions, work outings, church or whatever event she was forced to participate in, she would go through a list of things not to say or do. Attempting to calculate and imagine conversations before they were ever initiated so that she could trouble-shoot ahead of time. If she could avoid disaster then there would be one less pile of mess left in her wake.

This went on for well-over 30 years. How exhausting it was because I always failed and instantly jumped to my good friend "self-loathing". Wow, what a vicious cycle that was created so long ago by an abuser who was simply out to please himself. For all of those years I longed to somehow stop the merry-go-round and just jump off! It was always as if I was watching these things happen and not as though they were actually happening to me.

This week, for the first time ever, I have found some peace. I am not done yet, not even close, but I can officially say that I've never felt this good in my entire life. There is a clarity now that was never there before. A filter for my thoughts, one that's able to distinguish the lies from the truth. After all, that's how satan attacks, through the lies. I knew they were lies before but I was completely powerless against them.

Thanks to the EMDR therapy and Holly, even without Mr. Charming being here I've had the most peaceful nights of sleep. The "nightmares" are still there but they are no longer scary. They simply occur as matter-of-fact and there is no anxiety or fear with them. They have become a memory and not an on-going occurrence. My mind has been able to rest completely, at times, and it's a heaven which I cannot have ever imagined.

Needless to say, I will be screaming EMDR therapy from the rooftops because as of yet, there is no real cure for cancer, alzheimer's, AIDS or many other horrible afflictions that will eventually take your life but here is one now for PTSD sufferers, like myself. I now know that this disease will not eventually take me.

At times I fear losing Faith altogether but I also know deep down inside me that she is tired. She wants to sleep because she's fought a long, hard battle. That child in all of us is supposed to die to the adult we become but some of us are forced to remain both. As I continue through this therapy it is with some sadness that I say goodbye, but mostly I'm saying hello. Hello to the new person who has been trapped inside for so long dying to get out and spread her wings.

I look forward to Prince Charming coming home and meeting his new bride. It's somewhat scary for both of us since so much has changed in such a little amount of time. We both know that there is much work left to do but we are in it together and I am the most blessed girl on this planet to be able to walk this road, hand-in-hand with him. Thank you Jesus.

Seriously, anxiety again?

So I know this blog is an emotional roller coaster. I quite literally just finished editing some typo's on my very fabulous day, but tonight SUCKED! This blog is to allow you to see that you are not alone. We are not crazy, even though we feel like we are.

I had envisioned this fabulous night with my kids, giggling and cuddling and watching a movie together while curled up on the couch...then reality hit. Homework and snacks and more homework. Homework that had to be printed out in color, yes that's where I began to unravel.

I ran out of ink in my color printer yesterday and took the time to find my phone and add it to the list of things I needed. If I didn't stop and do it right then, it would have become that annoying thing I forgot for 3 or 4 weeks and didn't have when I really needed it. (Tongue-in-cheek) Luckily...I didn't have to wait that long to need it. Homework that has to be printed either in color or in black-and-white is straight from the devil. You know what else is from the devil? Printer/Scanner/Copier's that will not scan if the ink is empty. What is that about??? How infuriating...I had thought of this whole other solution to my printing woes when I realized this ridiculous design flaw. Where is the moron that invented this thing when you need to release some tension? Seriously?

So cool enough, I bought a laser printer just this morning, I simply forgot to check aforementioned list until I was already in my car pulling out, to remind myself that I needed ink for the deskjet. I was NOT going back in. So I send the item to my email and felt extremely proud of myself when I was able to print from my phone for the first time ever! OK, how awesome is that? IT'S NOT because my new laser printer is MONOCHROMATIC! That's right, it printed out in black and freaking-white! Sheesh. So I thought to myself, I wish we still had that old printer that we used before we bought the deskjet. I peeked out the door to the garage when all of the sudden...I see it!!! OK, I finally have the solution as I run through the mine-field-like heap, that is my garage. I grab the printer and run into the kitchen and go to hook it up when I realize....THERE IS NO CORD!!!! AHHHHH! CAN'T FIND THE STINKING CORD!!!

It's 7pm at this point and my youngest school-aged child has to be in bed at 7:30 or it is absolutely the end of the world! So I grab the baby and wrangle the kids and RUN out the door telling them, sure, you can wear your pajamas but you'll have to wear them inside the store! They were great with that. We drive to the store (not the same one because I swore I was NOT going back) and we went to get out and 3 of 4 people in my car have NO SHOES!!! Are you kidding me??? Was this all some sort of sick joke? Am I on Candid Camera or being "Punked" or something? Much to all of our dismay, the children go inside in sock feet. We grab the ink and decide to peruse just a bit but before we can check out I take my eyes of my son for one second and hear an ALARM GOING OFF. Of course, I knew it was something that one of my children had done but wasn't sure which one. I spy the boy-child and his cheeks are rosy-red. It was him, despite the "if you don't have enough money in your pocket to pay for it, then don't touch it" rule, he "just" picked it up and set off an alarm that of course wouldn't stop until a store clerk came and manually took care of it. At this point I can't get them back in the car fast enough as thankfully, we begin to make our way back home. THEN I realize I have to RUN, very quickly, in to the gas station and as we're pulling in, my darling son said to me "mom can we go eat at _________ (insert favorite mexican food restaurant here)? To which I swiftly replied "NO WAY, we just ate dinner", wait....did I feed you dinner??? "No", I hear from the backseat.

Since I had already lost the mother-of-the-year trophy, I so desperately desired, at that point I went in and got them each a big bag of chips and a hoagie to split. That's right people, chips from the gas station is what they ate and they LOVED it! Hahaha! So basically what I'm trying to say is that things don't always work out as they are planned and life can seriously kick you right in the...teeth sometimes, but just remember to BREATHE! This too shall pass, and when it does, I'll need a whole lot more therapy because I totally adore every single one of them. I can't imagine how boring my life would be without them in it.

I am a terrible mother...

Apparently that was one of my (many) issues. I say that now like it's a thing of the past. I can tell you with a great amount of peace and certainty, it almost is.

I had my first full-length, EMDR session last night. It was a difficult few minutes but no more so than most of my anxiety-ridden life. We started our session by talking about my week. I let her know that after my "tiny" session last week I had certain pieces of my memory come back that hadn't been there before. Somehow it fits with all of the other puzzle pieces that have been strewn about in a vast and darkened room.

We also discussed how things were going between myself and my son. I let her know that we had a very tough weekend and that I was merely hanging in there by a thread. I miss him so much it hurts, yet when I get to see or speak to him he has a tendency to want to lash out at me as though I've done something wrong. Instinctively, my mind wants to run. Push him away as fast as I can and find a way to numb or, at the very least, dull the pain. This is the way a trauma victim acts, why would it be any different with my own child? It's certainly not intentional, it is merely instinctual. Like when someone trips and falls to the ground, their brain tells them to throw down their hands to brace their fall, without thought or consideration, protecting the most crucial part of the body.

Through these discussions, my therapist was able to help me pinpoint the real issue at hand. I am a terrible mother!!! There it is, I finally admitted it, now take me away and put me out of my misery. I do not deserve to hold their tiny lives in my injured hands.

I've yelled, I've lost control, I've said hurtful things, I have failed to give the benefit of the doubt, I have enabled them, I've just been a horrible mother!!! As I was saying the above things, I was almost having an anxiety attack. I could barely catch my breath and I felt intense, deep-seeded pain. The therapist asked me to rate my pain on a scale from 0 being none (yeah right), to 10 being the highest. I was easily a 9 to 10. I was a mess. Obviously, the logical part of me knew I wasn't a terrible mother, but the inner child believed I was because I didn't always handle things the way I wanted to. I love and adore my children and I am a great mother! Bad mothers don't work so hard to become a better person! Bad mothers don't stay up all night trying to figure out how to better react to the next situation that arrises. Bad mothers, I would imagine, don't care or stress over the fact that they are bad mothers. They simply are because they are more important than anyone else. Chances are good if you loathe yourself, beat yourself up over every little thing you do wrong as a mother, pine over your children (of course, constantly apologize for them), you're either a.) a survivor of childhood abuse, b.) a good mother because you care and you try hard, or c.) all of the above.

We then began the actual EMDR part of the therapy. Back in headphones and holding sensors while thinking about being a horrible mother. Through her various "tricks-of-the-trade" and things that followed during my therapy I absolutely bawled. At one point I actually envisioned myself getting up and jerking off the headset and throwing it and saying "that's it!!, that's all I can take tonight!" Fortunately, I made it through and when it was all over that anxiety rating of 10 had become a 2 or 3.

As I opened my eyes I felt as though I had become apart of the couch. My entire body was as a rag doll. The rest of the night, it remained that way; I felt drugged because I was SO relaxed.

I awoke this morning to the same routine, with the exception of Mr. Charming being out of town on business. As I mentioned in a previous post this ALWAYS spawns severe pain for me and I begin to "punish" him for "betraying" me.

I can honestly say for the first time in my life (since we met and married at least), my husband is out of town and I am ok. I'm ok, I'm ok, I'm ok (insert happy dance visualization here)!!! I miss him and there are moments I feel exhausted and know that it will be so much easier when he gets home but I'M OK!!!! I have yet to get angry or hurt at him or in his direction. I've only complained ONE TIME!!!! That's so beyond normal I can't even begin to tell you. As I told my dear friend, it has to be real because I don't have self-control, never have! Before I would scream and freak out entirely because of the huge anxiety that came along with him being gone, worrying if he would be ok. Would the plane wreck?Would he be mugged? Would he actually enjoy his time away from the hell I put him through (how dare he)? Not that I didn't want him to enjoy himself, but my fear was that he would so enjoy it, he would never come home. I certainly wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't. I don't want to come "home", unfortunately, the home that is so painful for me is the one I live in, inside of my head.

To top it off, Prince Charming pointed out when he last phoned, I actually bought him a present! Not a small present, a BIG one!!! (He has an idea of what it is, but doesn't know for sure, so I'll have to tell you about it in another post.) I bought him a "Survivors" gift. Not only has he held himself up since we met but he's carried a very broken version of who I am supposed to be, along with our children, entirely on his own. I have no idea how he has managed for these 4 years but I thank God he has done it! So I ordered his gift this morning and I cannot wait to give it to him after he returns!

The anxiety is so much less, it's apparent to everyone I've spoken with today. I can breathe, some, I can feel the difference in the tension I carry in every muscle in my body. God is good and this therapy is an amazing gift.

When you begin your therapy don't look for excuses to quit or the way out the door. Realize this is almost the end. Enduring the pain for only a few more minutes will spare you a lifetime of anxiety, worry and depression.

Thank you so much Holly for following in His will and becoming a therapist, you truly have a gift. Without you, Prince Charming and Jesus, none of this would be possible. I would still be a lost, hurt little girl looking for someone to show me the way home. I am almost there. I hunger and thirst for the freedom that so many take for granted, I am almost there.

The bad news is, you're gone...

One of my favorite old(er) country songs is by a band called Diamond Rio. In this he basically sings about how much better he is because of having been with her.

"The good news is I'm better for the time we spent together, the bad news is....you're gone." There are so many ways in which this statement can ring true in our lives. Whether it be a friend you've lost, a family member, a church home or a spouse.

Thankfully these things can also be temporary. Rarely is anything in life truly forever. So in each instance right now in my life, I'm going to look for the positive side. The good news is no matter what else happens going forward, I am better for the time we were together.

In leaving a church, I feel very blessed for all of the people we met and loved and that touched us in various different ways. I feel like so many valuable lessons were learned that have helped us become who we are today. The truth is I will never fit the mold of the "quiet lesser one" in any relationship and that tends to be frowned upon in most traditional churches. I leave not with pain and sorrow but with love for all of those that we met.

As far as my husband and his business trips are concerned, I know I mentioned how these always make me feel abandoned (the logical person in me realizes how silly this sounds). He left today and this will be one of his longer trips. I've planned various friends and family members to come hang out with me to keep me sane this week. Normally I mourn and weep while he is gone, this time I will do my best to realize that there is good news and better news.

The good news is I am better for the time we spent together and the better news is...he's coming back. So this week while I have a very busy work week and school week with the kids, instead of mourning his loss, I'm going to spend time dwelling on the positives. All of the things he has taught me or given me that have made my life easier and just simply amazing. I never thought I'd be with someone that I loved so dearly or that made me feel so loved and so grateful just to call him my husband. So for today I will dwell on being grateful for being Mrs. Charming.

As we suffer loss, no matter how great or trivial, let's look for the positive and see how that changes our attitude even though the situation my seem grim.

I love you Mr. Charming. Thank you so much for all of the ways that you've blessed and enriched my life. Thank you for "putting a ring on it!" I absolutely adore you min älskling. Hej då.

Anxiety, I need out NOW!

Last night was tough.

I began the day with new memories that were apparently "shaken loose" by my therapy the night before. Those new memories are always horribly painful and constantly flashing in my mind. Throughout the day I continued to try to push them aside, who wants to see those events replay over and over? As the day wore on, so did my nerves.

It was the night I was to do a kid-swap and it began to spiral as I drove to my destination, late. I can't stand to be late, it just eats me up inside. I feel as though I am telling the other person (unintentionally) that my time is worth more than theirs. So I was late and I  knew once I got there my sons would begin their constant, incessant bickering. All of you with children know that noise, it's like a swarm of gnats constantly flying over your head or those flies that won't leave your picnic lunch alone. AHHHHH! Just "knock it off already"!

With already frayed nerves from a day of flash-backs, we make the swap. Prince Charming is a little put off with me because I've left them in a van with no keys, so he asks me where they are in a bit of a put-out manner and that was pretty much it for me! Overboard I flew, on the inside at least. I didn't begin raging on the outside, even though it took much effort to avoid this, but on the inside I felt as though my skin were crawling. My husband asked me if I was ok and I just said "no". (I don't have much of a poker face). I then realized that I needed out of the car NOW...the anxiety was building and I knew an attack was soon to follow. I truly felt like opening the door and just jumping while it was still moving.

I tried my "safe place" that the therapist taught me, but that involves my music going into one ear and then into the other and I was riding in a car so I quickly began to get motion sick. Great. I hold on long enough that we were able to stop at a gas station and I texted with my amazing therapist and she told me to walk around and BREATHE. I always forget to breathe. I felt well enough to get back in the car but still had another 30 minute drive home. Thankfully, we stopped for dinner and then I realized Prince Charming had left his car there...freedom!!! I got into the car all alone and was finally able to regain composure. For the most part. That is until that crazy lady got annoyed with my U-turn and began screaming at me and then cut me off! Was she serious??? Did she know that if we stopped and I began to unleash that she would have been punished for well more than 30 years of holding back? Poor lady, she wouldn't have been so much as a stain on the concrete when I got done with her.

In closing today while you are out driving and you see someone make an error or annoy you in some way on the road, know that what they most likely need is grace. I sure could have used some last night.

Betrayal, Fear and EMDR

I had my first EMDR therapy last night. My mom asked me what it was like because she said she could picture me in some room with electrodes stuck to my head...ha! It wasn't that at all.

I was in a room, next to my husband on a couch and I put on a headset. The headset played really relaxing music that transfered from one ear to the other. Then I held a small rectangular object  in each hand. Those two sensors (or whatever they are called) distribute a gentle vibration incrementally, from one hand to the next.

Before this process began, I had already given her information from my past. Based on that information she was able to determine that my core issues are betrayal and the fear that someone is going to hurt me. She then gave me a mental still picture and those words associated with it, to juggle in my head.

I did that while the music was playing from left to right in my ears and while the sensors in my hands were vibrating as well. Then I stopped and she gave me more word associations.

So that's the short of what happened last night. The experience wasn't frightening for me, it was much more matter of fact. There were tears involved, I won't lie, and it was mentally draining but I wasn't scared to be there or scared to continue. I was to see images of certain people...not replay events. She's also taught me this thing called "safe place" where I can escape anytime I need to. It consists of vivid visualizations as well as some deep breathing and really helps to calm me down when I need it.

When the treatment was over, I wanted to do more. The faster I can get through this, the better in my mind but alas, time was up.

So betrayal and fear are my triggers. It's amazing looking back at that and where it derived from and recognize how it's still effecting my everyday life. We realized that even when prince charming goes out of town on business, I feel dumped, deserted and betrayed. I immediately flip to being angry with him. Anger is a secondary emotion. Did you know that?

Anytime I am angry, I have to have been hurt in order for it to turn into anger. So the next time you're furious with another person, stop and ask yourself what the primary emotion was and then try to work with that emotion. One way to do that is to simply stop and say "what you said really just hurt my feelings" or "could you try to re-word that next time so it doesn't come out so hurtful?" Realizing that anger is secondary and looking to find the primary emotion will be a huge asset in dealing with anyone, family, friends or co-workers, even strangers in the future.

Betrayal and fear, I have to find a new response to those two emotions. I'll be working on that and let you know how it goes. Until then...

The devil is in the details...

That statement could not ring more true to me right now. I am sure for whomever coined that phrase, it held a different meaning but for me, it's the details that almost throw me overboard. The minutia of everyday life with a family and bills and work. It seems as though the "bigger issues" are the ones that I can deal with but the "can I"'s or "would you"'s just send me reeling. Why is that?

Since I truly have no idea I'm going to speculate. Could it be because is that the bigger issues take up so much space in my head that the smaller ones just don't have room? Or maybe it's that the larger ones tend to make me numb because it's just too much to deal with so it hurts far less? Another possibility is that when I'm dealing with my own issues of trauma from childhood questions like "do I have to wear my helmet when I'm riding my bike?" or the "can I have a dog?" (for the 80th time in a home where someone is extremely allergic to pet dander) just seems so petty.

My son couldn't find his lunchbox for school one morning that we were already running behind. Prince Charming had his lunch packed and ready for work when I had to ask him to let our son borrow his. There didn't seem to be any other short term solution at the time and Prince could simply buy lunch if it came down to it, in my mind at least. Generously, he gave his lunchbox over but stated "you need to buy him a new lunchbox." That simple statement just flew all over me. (No kidding, he needs a new one???)

Am I really annoyed with my husband because he made a matter-of-fact statement? Am I really annoyed with my son because it's frustrating, at his age, to be forced to wear a helmet when you're old enough to drive a car and none of your other friends have to? Or am I angry that another child wants a pet? The real question is this, Am I truly weak enough of a person for the details to become so overwhelming that I lose my cool? Of course the answer to the aforementioned questions is no. All of them. I am not annoyed with my husband over something so silly, I am not annoyed with my son because he doesn't want to wear a helmet (I don't want to wear an ugly helmet but it's better than being in an accident without one) or my other son for wanting a dog, I am not weak.

Those of us who have survived these types of traumas aren't weak. Weakness is choosing to continue to avoid dealing with their issues at the risk of hurting their families. When every anticipated moment is an immeasurable mountain and yet we continue on toward our intended goal, then weakness is not something we can be accused of. Most people would crumble under such weight. Few of us truly survive and even fewer still go on to thrive. Today, put your family first. Realize that you will never be the person that you know you can be, unless you deal with the trauma or traumas that made you become someone else. It is the hardest thing you will ever do but the reward lasts a lifetime.

For those of you that love someone with PTSD, I pray that you will understand and love them even when they can't handle the minutia. Realize, first of all, that it is not intended to hurt you in any way. Also know that if this person truly wants to change and is looking for the way out, they will find it. The reward, according to Prince Charming, is being able to spend the rest of your life with someone who's at their best. If you can only hold on for them, because they will fail without your support, and take it one day at a time, you will truly be marching toward freedom for not only your loved one but also for yourself. Imagine the rest of your life holding someone that knows they could never pay you back for the strength, love and kindness you showed them while they were at their lowest. That's the kind of love I have for my husband. When I grow up, I want to be like him. Darling, I simply adore you and thank God for you every with every breath I take. Thank you for forgiving me before the words have even left my mouth. Thank you for holding me up because right now, I cannot stand alone. I do see the finish line sweetie, we're almost there. You are now and forever, my hero.

No offense! Let's agree to disagree.

So as I read over my post from last night (wow, that was depressing), I realize at times there are things I say that you won't necessarily agree with. That's great! In this world of people if we were all fashioned from the same ole shoe leather, certain things would be overdone but many, many other things would be left completely un-done. My passions, my beliefs and what drives me will likely not be what drives you. Even with my soul-mate there are things that arise that we must agree that we may never both have the same opinions on. In our families and works-places we often disagree with those around us. In case you haven't ever given it any thought, fights only begin out of difference of opinion.

Our country, the United States (I know not all readers are from here), was founded because they no longer wanted to be forced to believe what others believed. With that ideal, where have we gone wrong? When did we decide that no matter what others personal preferences were, our religious beliefs are what "they" should also be forced to adhere to? As you likely gathered from my blog, I am a Christ-follower (insert word "Christian" which is like nails on a chalkboard for me right now, but I'm working on that), If I had been born in any other country, I'd like to think I wouldn't have their beliefs shoved down my throat.

As I type this, I can feel people shaking their head at me in angst. However, freedom is what we all are searching for. The freedom to be whomever we want to be, the freedom to worship whomever you want to worship or not to worship at all. So as you read this post I simply ask that you try to keep an open mind and realize you will not agree with everything I say, I didn't start this blog as religious propaganda; I wrote this blog to help others. As you read through this if you believe or begin to believe, as I do, that Jesus is the way, then we have just one more thing in common. If, as you read this, you don't agree with me I pray that you realize there was no offense intended. I am simply writing out of the abundance of my heart and hoping that I can touch at least one person with it. Help those who suffer to realize that where they are is not a healthy place to be and encourage them to seek professional help because there is a way out. So as you read through my blog, feel free to input or delete in your mind whatever phrases you see fit. I respect your right to disagree with me and I thank you for respecting mine as well.

I am grateful that we are different. It is through those differences and how we choose to voice them, that we will be able to grow. How much different would things be in your life right now if you respected someone else's right to "choose this day who you will serve?" For all of us "believers", that does mean that He allowed us to choose as well so let's remember that the next time we feel that everyone should be forced to do as you would have them.

We aren't big enough to fill God's shoes. For everyone else, I implore you to find what you are passionate about and throw yourself into it; it could be that you're the only one who is capable of doing it as well as you are.

As a follow-up from last nights post, if you read it...I hardly slept at all, I set my alarm for 5:30 knowing my son would be up at 5:15 for school. He was busy so he returned my call around 6am and the first thing he said was "since when are you awake at 5:30?" and I simply stated that it was a first. I felt so bad for the way I had spoken to him that I was unable to sleep. I asked him to forgive me and he did, of course. Disaster narrowly averted again, whew! I am going to win this war one battle at a time.

My son, over-reaacting and gnawing regret

Wow. As I lie awake in my bed I replay the conversation I had with my son tonight; I am devastated. Nauseous at the words I slung in his direction. All I want to do is to curl him up in my arms and cry, tell him I'm sorry and that I didn't mean to over-react. I can tell him that this "isn't my fault" all day long but  in the end the damage has been done, by me. This is the after-effect of childhood sexual abuse. It isn't my fault that I was abused at such a young age or that I was unable to process those incidents, but it is my fault that I allowed myself to become enraged at my lying teenager. I hate this. I hate myself.

How is it that I can write in this blog by day and then a few short hours later over-react in such a way? How is it that we as adults have enough nerve to try to force our children to have more self-control than we ourselves can muster? "Don't yell at your sister", I scream from across the room. Did anyone else catch that? The gigantic oxy-moron in that sentence?

Others might become physically abusive because their child "isn't keeping his hands to himself". Violence begets violence, this is unacceptable. It makes no sense that in this world if I were to hit another adult I would be thrown in jail and yet if I were to hit my child, it would be called discipline.

As I lie here in my bed, replaying the events of the evening, I do so with such a heavy heart. He is not here to tell him I love him or that I'm sorry. He isn't here and we rarely speak as it is and the last conversation we had was simply horrible. Lord please forgive me. Let my son know that I would do anything for him, anything.

I want to always respond with kindness; "A soft answer turns away wrath", that's the mom I want to be. It isn't always like this, but over-reacting or under-reacting are key symptoms to PTSD. As I say these things I feel as though I'm making excuses for my behavior, when there is no excuse. This son of mine will one day become a man. He will have a wife and children of his own. Lord please allow this boy to forgive this mom and to one day do a better job than I did.

I pray that one day he will know that I did this all for him, to show him that true strength isn't found by running away from your problems or burying the past. True strength comes from admitting that you have a problem, searching for the solution and not giving up until you have overcome. Lord please don't let it be too late. Please let the damage done be minimal and please let him know that none of this was his fault. But most of all Lord, let him know that I loved him enough to let him go. Not having him near is breaking my heart. Not being able to sneak in his room after he's asleep just to watch him breathe.

My alarm is set to call him and ask for forgiveness before he leaves for school. Thank you Jesus for a brand new day tomorrow, please forgive me Lord, help me to find peace, quickly. Your mercies are new every morning, great is thy faithfulness.

While you were sleeping...

While you were sleeping last night, I was awakened with more nightmares. They happen every night but some have a tendency to scare me more than others. It doesn't always have to be the content of the nightmare as much as it is the overall oppressive nature of the dream. As I remember my nightmares, I try to write them down for future reference, however, some of them are forever etched in my mind.

One night, I was running through an old scrap yard that was overlooking a harbor. I was running, of course, I am always running; trying to protect myself or my children or in some cases to find them. This night in particular, I knew that the mob was chasing me, no idea what I did to evoke that kind of ire, but nonetheless, there it was. Normally in my dreams, just before there is some sort of conclusion, I awaken never feeling fulfilled in having faced my fears like "they" say you must do in order to gain understanding. This time was different. This time I turned to face my enemy and ask why he was chasing me and when I did, he shot me in the stomach. I instantly felt the burning, searing pain from the hole it had left. I couldn't breath, I couldn't talk, I was gasping for air as I felt the blood rise up into my mouth. I knew I was dying and there was no one there to help me. I looked up seeing the mobster standing over me smiling, the first time I saw him, he had no face; as in those shows on tv where they "blur the faces of the innocent". As I lay there dying I now see him clearly. He was a very non-descript man, brown hair, brown eyes, as if he could have been any member of John Q. Public. He smiled, a handsome smile and then raised his gun and pulled the trigger, one more time. The last thing I heard was a loud pop and the final smell, gun powder. I was dead and everything was black, but I distinctly remember feeling at peace for the first time in my life...and then I woke up.

Sometimes I wonder which is better, to be awake and reliving the flash-backs and constantly over-reacting, whilst attempting to live a "normal" life or is it better to be asleep, running all night long?

I feel very much like Miley Cyrus in "Hannah Montana". Except what I get is not the "best of both worlds". I do, however, live two distinctly different lives. One is my reality, that of a victim, a woman living with post-traumatic stress disorder, and then there is my other life, my "real" life. The former thankfully, my children are ignorant of and at times that can be the hardest part of all. When I am barely hanging on, my last finger is sweaty and slipping from the final rung of life, my beautiful children behave like, children. Truthfully I would have it no other way, I pray that they each enjoy being a child and take full advantage of the life they've been given to live in innocence, one which I was not so fortunate to have myself. I pray one day my children realize that I did all that I have done for them. The counseling, the talking, the praying, the putting one-foot-in-front-of-the-other and remembering to breathe was done so that they could have a somewhat normal life.

To those of you who suffer as I do, remember to continue to breathe, deeply from way down in your stomach (I'm still working on this, when I do it I feel as though I will pass out before I catch my next breath. Maybe I'm not doing it right.), and continue to take one day at a time. Remember, there is no promise of tomorrow, so for today "Choose this day whom you will serve", hug your children like it was the last time, remind yourself of how special they are and that what you're doing is giving them the life you had only hoped for.

To those of you who may be the "weight-bearer" in your relationship right now, I applaud you, I thank you from the depths of my soul because without your strength we would never have been able to start this journey, we'd be sure to quit every single day and we would certainly never reach the finish line. It is your love that will see us through and reminds us why we continue to endure such torture instead of just pushing it aside for "another day".

As this battle rages within me, I know that this too shall pass. God has promised us He would not give us more than we could handle. This load is far too big to bear alone, so just lay it all down at the foot of the cross, I sometimes have to do this hourly, and rest in the peace of knowing that " in fact God has placed the parts in your body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be" (I Corinthians 12:18). 

In this trauma, you may choose to search for the reason you've been dealt this deck of cards and rise to the occasion, or you can let it consume you. Today I choose the path to healing and I will not allow my pain to have been "all for not". Having to endure such trauma for me will be what drives me to help others make it through. I will touch as  many lives as God allows and I will turn my tragedy into triumph. For me, there is no other way to live because I refuse to allow myself to continue to be a victim, my assailants have lost this battle, after all, It belongs to the Lord.

Despair, Bullying and being an Enabler

On days like these I find it quite difficult to even get out of bed. The only thing that keeps me from becoming molded to my sheets like old cheese is the fact that I know I must keep moving. Keep breathing, keep putting one foot in front of the other and breathe again.

Whatever the trigger for that day, be it the day of the week, day of the year, gloomy weather, gorgeous weather, the smell in the air, the first day back to school or whatever your trigger is, it can be paralyzing.

I realize this even more as I attempt to find the words to write this blog that normally seem to flow so easily from an abundance of...whatever it is that continues to drive me. I am paralyzed by the pain.

My mind aches, my head hurts, my skin is burning, my heart is broken, again. Today, my trigger happens to be the first day of school. Like so many others, I was bullied in school. Children can be so mean. I was tortured by everyone in my class (you know that kid that received everyone's abuse in your class too).

Even though that pain is in the past for me it still rears it's ugly head regularly, but especially when my children start off at a new school. I want nothing more than to protect each one of my children from any sort of harm. What's worse is that since I am, correction was, a victim. I take all of my pain and couple it with theirs and it becomes unbearable. I tend to want to pick them up in my arms and run away screaming until I've found a safe enough place to put them down, dust them off and send them on their way again. (But only until the next event when I must put on my cape and fly in as "Super-Mom" and save them from the forces of evil.)

I realized last week what that makes me. I am an enabler. I have enabled, or crippled is a more direct term, my children from being able to take care of themselves in these situations. The truth is kids will be teased, they will even be bullied from time-to-time. (The type of bullying I received was not "normal" and was not the type to which I'm making reference and bullying is never acceptable.) What our job is as parents, I'm finding, is not to swoop in and drag them off to safety as quickly as possible because then I am preventing them from ever learning how to take care of themselves. Do I still want to be doing this when they're in their 20's and 30's really? Do I want my child to quit every job he or she ever has because someone wasn't nice to them? Obviously, the answer to that has to be no. Even though it breaks my heart (remember every pain I've ever endured is put into each episode because my mind has not processed them..yet. Refer to past blogs if you're lost here) every single time someone calls my kid a name or makes fun of what they are wearing or is just a jerk in general to them, it is the only way they will learn to be capable of functioning properly as adults.

We are to teach our children how to stand up for themselves (not to go beat up their mama, which is what my initial instinct is...I wonder how many other mama's have wanted to do the same to me because my child said something mean or hateful?), but to say "that was rude, you should keep your opinion to yourself" or "that my be your opinion but it's not mine". Yes, pick that boy/girl up and dust them off but then send them on their way with the proper tools to know how to better deal with the situation next time.

So today, as my oldest son starts a new school in a place that is too far away for me to put on my "Super-Mom" cape, I need to be able to find peace in knowing, first of all, he is God's child and not mine. He has been on loan to me and I must to give him back (daily). Secondly, I need to remember that even though he will get his feelings hurt, he is working at becoming an amazingly capable man. One that is confident in himself and the decisions he makes. If I don't let him hurt today, I will continue to hurt for him for the rest of my life. That is not how God intended it to be. So today, I thank my ex-husband (never thought I'd say those words) and his precious wife for being strong enough to allow him to fail.

Are you an enabler too?

Self-loathing and Disapproval

One of the (many) things that come along with having been a victim of trauma, is in how much you beat yourself up. I am my own worst enemy. No matter what I've done I instantly hate myself for it. It is most pronounced when I have hurt or disappointed someone else in some way.

As a victim, you're forced to be completely submissive to someone else's needs, wants and desires. You're forced to please someone else to their complete satisfaction while being completely miserable yourself. Sadly, this quickly becomes inherent because it was forced on you and that's where your mind freezes. So I'm frozen in time constantly trying to please others around me.

Through my husband, I have learned that I am not here to please others, I am here to please God. If I fail in that, then I have truly failed. If I fail others, I need to assess myself and my behavior and be sure that I was doing what was right in all that I said and did. Sometimes this is the case and in that event, it truly doesn't matter what others think, as long as what I did was pleasing to Him.

However, this is rarely the case. I get so nervous and move so quickly in day-to-day life, so I don't have to stop to feel anything (because after all, the only thing I can truly feel is pain), that I often over-step. I speak without thinking and offend others around me when that was never my intention. I immediately move to self-loathing. I will beat myself up for days over something that the unintended victim will have moved on from long before. Unfortunately, this happens far too often.

To those I have offended, I truly apologize. The truth is that I do not take enough time to form my thoughts before allow them to pour out. It absolutely eats me alive when I hurt someone, when I am the one on the receiving end of the hurt it's ok; I can handle it. To hurt someone else though is far more than I can handle. I instantly feel as though I am going to break, again.

To myself: when will I learn to forgive myself after having been forgiven by the one I have hurt? That is the real question at hand I believe. Do I forgive myself for having been a "victim"? Everyone asks if I've forgiven the offender(s), but the real question is have I forgiven myself? Maybe this doesn't make much sense to those who haven't been victimized and maybe some who have, do not struggle with self-loathing and for you, I am happy.

At some point I have to realize that self-loathing only comes from my own inability to be able to move on and let this go or to have been able to prevent it from happening in the first place. My weight, my hair, the way I walk, the way I stand, the things I say, the things I do, the things I think. It's as if somehow I believe if I do all of these things well, everyone will like me. If I had done everything right before, I wouldn't have been a victim.

The truth is we as Christians aren't called to please anyone but Jesus and no matter what we do, the best we can be or do is "as filty rags"to Him. No amount of pleasing others here on this earth will ever get me closer to heaven. Thank you Jesus for your grace. Thank you for your forgiveness and patience with me as I attempt to work through all of the hurt and evil that was inflicted on me. For me, it has been far easier to forgive my perpetrators than myself.

What is EMDR therapy?

I'm glad you asked! Let me start out by saying I'm not exactly sure myself. What little I have learned about it was from my therapists website. Check that out here. The short, layman's version is this; when someone goes through a trauma, their mind, being unable to process the event, simply freezes that moment in time. Your ability to process things is forever changed, causing you to over-react to everything. Every time you're in a situation after this, be it life-threatening or as simple as someone accidentally startling you, you will be reacting to the original trauma or traumas. Every time I get upset over something it literally feels like the world is about to end. I can't breathe, I can't think, I can't eat.

These reactions are normal in fight-or-flight situations but the mind should not remain in constant "trauma" mode, but for many of us, it does. The EMDR therapy, from my understanding, is somewhat akin to the REM (rapid eye movement) state that you achieve while sleeping. I have yet to have a session so I can't say how exactly the session will look, but the idea is that this therapy will help your brain to process those original traumas. That means that the memories will still be there, but you won't instantly go into "freak-out" mode with every "trigger". In theory, there should no longer be "triggers".

The GREAT news about this therapy, so I am told, is that you don't have to re-live these moments like in the past. Before we had to go back to that place in time and our thoughts, feelings, and mind are the age that we were at the time of the trauma. It is horribly painful and scary. I have gone through one of these episodes once. It made that particular memory, just that, a memory. The emotions, feelings, smells are not a part of that memory anymore, it has been processed.

With EMDR you do NOT have to relive the memory (entirely)! You will have to discuss, in short generality, the memories and feelings involved but the therapy itself does the hard part. The overall length of times it takes to do these sessions is based on the amount of trauma you've been through. A little trauma, a little therapy. There are 8 steps to the process, (please refer to Holly's website) and much like an antibiotic you may feel better early on in the process but in order for it to "take," for lack of a better term, you must complete all 8 phases.

8 phases is all that stands between me and peace. That seems far too simple and yet it isn't. It is nothing short of a miracle for PTSD/trauma survivors. More people need to know that there is an easier way, a way to live without pain, constant anxiety and feeling like the world is going to end at any moment. It's even easier than lying on someone's couch, curled up in a ball in hysterics.

No pain, no gain, that much is true but in this case it's less pain, more gain...I like the sound of that. We deserve easier, we've done hard. We have survived for years now it is time to live like we've never lived before. Know that the hard part can be over if you so choose. Contact someone who specializes in EMDR therapy. If you don't seem to "jive" with them, try someone else. Don't stop until every single thing in your body tells you that you've come to the right place. Once there, surrender for the last time.

You will become "normal" (from what I hear and from what I've seen of others who have used this therapy). I can't imagine what normal would feel like but it sure looks good from the outside. So until then, I'll be on the edge of my seat, right beside you, over-stressing, freaking out, holding my breath and waiting to meet the future "Mrs. Charming."

Nightmares - my mind never sleeps

Often I have re-occuring dreams. The one I've had since childhood was of me being in an airplane over the ocean and the plane always crashes into the water. It's horrifying to feel myself plummet to the earth but know that there is nothing I can do about it. It's even worse to hit the surface of the water like concrete, it throws us all to the floor of the fuselage. What's worse than dying in this particular plane crash is living through it. Once in the ocean the heavy plane begins it's rapid decent to the ocean floor.

We are short on oxygen and know it's just a matter of time before we run out entirely. We need to all hold our breath. The more we breathe, in or out, the closer we are to succumbing. Finally, we realize we have no choice. In order to survive we have to open the doors of the plane and wait for it to fill up so the pressure from the waves rushing in won't over-power us as we attempt to escape. The doors open and at that point, I can't breath, fear has completely overtaken me as I rush to the highest point in the airplane. I'm so scared I can't think, speak.

As the rushing water rises up through the plane everyone runs toward me because I have found the highest point in order to "keep my head above water". They're all shoving in like cattle, some of them even forgetting their small children, as they scramble to save their own lives. All at once, the water is upon us, up to our necks, some begin to submerge just to get it over with. The idea of having to survive something so frightening is just too much to take. They give up. I watch, as soon bodies begin to cover the surface of the water inside of the filling plane.

Now is my chance. I have no life preserver, no one with me that I know, I am all alone. I can take that one last gasp for air and try to make my way to the front of the plane and out of the twisted metal and into the vast ocean. I'm so scared. I know that no matter how big a gulp of air I take in, it will never be enough to save me, but I can't give up, I won't give up. I open my mouth and swallow as much air as my mouth will hold and I go for it......and then I wake up.

I had no idea how that particular dream ended as a child. I can't remember how many times I've had it, too numerous to count. It used to scare me to death...always wanting to fall back asleep and see how it ended. But now I know. I know that I am still holding my breath and still swimming as hard as I can against the current, looking for which way the bubbles of CO2 are headed so I even know which way is up. I am disoriented, for now. The difference is, now I see the surface. I see the sunlight and it's glaring; calling my name from deep in the ocean floor, I will not quit swimming, I will hold my breath until I finally break the surface. This is the only chance of survival I have. Clearly, if I stayed in the ocean I would die.

So today I will choose to continue this battle. One that rages deep within and most people have no idea even goes on. Those that do know it exist are able to push it away because it is too much to take. They are right. This is too much for anyone who has not been forced into it, to take. God did not give them this cross to bear, He in his infinite knowledge and wisdom, gave them a different one. This one is mine and I'm proud that it is. That pride only comes from knowing that I have made a decision to win this battle. I will not only survive this, but I will feel better than I've ever felt in my life. I will have peace that passes all understanding because of the amazing people that God has put in my life, constantly throwing me a life raft, helping keep me afloat. God chose me because He knew that I would do this. Share with others in hope that somehow I can touch you and let you realize there is hope. It begins with Jesus and moves it's way through His people that He has blessed in order that they are able and willing to help others.

Just keep swimming, don't give up, wade through the bodies of those around you that have already quit fighting. There is peace to be had. My peace is coming, soon.

WHY it all started...

I wrote the original blog as a letter in response to a very prominent thought within "the church" that says that it's not ok to take medications for mental "issues". My frustration and pain with people judging me based on my deciding that medicine was a way to help me cope. I have been told that if I had enough faith in God, I would be healed. I genuinely love these brothers and sisters in Christ so I'd never want to inflict pain on them, so I chose to try to help enlighten as many others as I can.

Now that you know a "little" about me, I want to tell you why I decided to blog this journey through EMDR therapy.

As you can tell from my original post, I love God. I hesitate to call myself a "Christian" because of the negative connotation that often follows that word. The stigma attached to it can be very similar to the stigma that comes with "mental illness". I'm here to erase that stigma not only for mental illness but hopefully about people who truly love Jesus and want to show His love to others.

I'm one of those people who want to save the world, I take on everyone else's pain as my own. Since I cannot change the entire world, I'll start off small and work my way from there. So here goes "small". I'm not sure that publicly broadcasting my innermost thoughts and feelings, as I go through this therapy that I truly know so little about, is small but here goes "nothing"!

Through this blog I pray that others will realize that their past has been effecting their present and will continue to effect their future until they take the proper steps toward healing. Burying the pain is unhealthy and often leads people who have survived these traumas looking to "self-medicate". Drugs, Alcohol, food, etc.

I've self-medicated, I wasn't one of those people who tried every drug around because I knew my addictive personality and I had been raised to avoid the things that you knew were your weaknesses and you'd never have to worry about saying no or losing control. My medication of choice for years was alcohol. It didn't matter what kind or how much as long as it was often. The only thought on my mind was that I needed to quit hurting; make the pain go away. Drinking, Ahhh, that did it. For a minute and then I was sober again and had to start all over the next night. After that I "grew-up" and self-medicated with food. Wow, I love food.

I am married to a prince by the way! I haven't mentioned him yet and want you to know that your prince charming is out there, you just may not have found him yet, but he IS worth waiting for. So through this journey "Prince Charming" will also have some input into things. How I've changed, or not, and where I seem to be mentally, through my husbands eyes. I can't say enough about how having the proper support system will be what helps pull you through until you get ready to take the step of faith and jump into this treatment yourself.

My therapist has a very similar story to mine. She lived through her own trauma and she overcame through EMDR therapy. She tells me that soon I will remember to breathe, as I say that I have to remind myself to do just that...breathe. For whatever reason, victims/survivors hold their breath! I learned that today along with a technique for going to my "happy place" and putting myself into a "time-out" for lack of a better phrase. I'm looking forward to trying this new thing this week and reminding myself to breathe, deeply and often.

I'm very excited about getting this "over with" but unfortunately, in order for me to change my life and for my brain to be able to re-process these individual events that have been frozen in my mind, I will have to deal with some of the pain. I'm not a huge fan of pain, maybe you are but I don't like it. I can handle physical pain but was so numb for so many years that I sometimes jokingly say that I prefer to be numb. Numb is indifference and indifference sucks. With love or hate at least there is emotion but there's nothing worse than apathy.

I'm not the least bit apathetic about this treatment that I am about to begin, in fact I'm scared to death. Scared of having to even think about the episodes of abuse, much less to have to talk about them. Actually, today I think I prefer apathy.

Where it all started...

To those I love, (none of what I say below is reflective of my parents)

Throughout my life I stood out, I was always different in some way and in that, some people were naturally drawn to me. I have a kind of childish, charismatic air that instantly makes people feel very comfortable around me or in many cases, very uncomfortable. It's never apparently clear what pushes us to feel these feelings. "Is it because she's too loud?”, "is it because she makes untimely jokes or comments?" I know these are the thoughts going on in some people's minds as over time I've become a master at reading people, their faces, their body language, etc. That may sound conceited but I assure you it was merely a survival mechanism. 

It has been scientifically proven (hasn't everything these days that works in your favor?) that a pedophile has a "type". There are certain qualities and traits that stand out to these people, who more times than not, have endured their own horrifying childhood traumas that they are now inflicting on others. A payback maybe? Or is it just the first time in their lives they have control over not only what happens to them, but control over someone else as well. That power as it is exhibited or assailed, is often the only means of them to feel anything. 

When repeated trauma occurs, especially when it begins at an early age, the mind is not capable of coping with such trauma. This causes the victim to "freeze-in-time" mentally and emotionally often. That means if you were a victim at age 3, as I was, then some of your thought processes and specifically how you deal with events of anger or pain, in the future, to be a response to the original trauma that occurred so long ago. Fight-or-flight.

I spent all of my childhood under a fog of disapproving glances or over-exuberant, salacious looks from men. Once you've been victimized, in many respects, you've been "tagged". These pedophiles recognize this child from as far away as the child recognizes their future abuser. I can walk in a room and instantly "feel sick" to my stomach based on someone that is in the room. In that one encounter, or several for most, you're given a "gift" from God. One to let you know when it's time to run. Hide.

So when you hear a "wild tale" from a girl or boy who says she's been victimized by (fill in blank here) # of men, believe him/her. No one who hasn't been a victim, be it a believable story or not, would make up such tales. She may say it flippantly as if she were telling you her shoe size, but there's no better way to spot a victim than this. It is only after repeated abuse that someone could use words such as these so lightly. Likely, she is screaming for help in the loudest voice she has. She has no hope or thoughts or dreams that there is ever a cure, other than to not have to awaken tomorrow. What has been done to her is unthinkable. It's the type of thing that makes you change the channel when you're watching the news because it's just too much to take. Imagine what it was like for that 3-year-old little girl. If she had to live through it and then with it for all of those years, the least we can do is never undermine her. 

Never tell her that if she had enough faith in God, she would be fine. As if somehow God was going to reach down and touch her, as he did in the Bible, and she's instantly healed. Can God do these things? YES! My God can do anything!!!! There is no doubt of the amazing power of Jesus; I have been washed in the blood of the lamb. However, God did not promise protection for those who loved him. On the contrary, he promised that those who loved him would suffer. We can all wonder how or why these things happen and I can boil it down quickly for those who do believe in Him, Adam and Eve. If it hadn't been them, it would have been their children but we didn't have to wait even that long to exhibit that "free will" that God has given us. 

In that "free will" we each have become whoever it is that we want to be. Whether it was because of the trauma you suffered that you become the victimizer, or because of the trauma you endured you become the therapist that helps those who have been victimized. "Free will" is both a blessing and a curse. Because of our "sin nature" it is a constant battle of wills within ourselves as to who we will serve because "no man can serve two masters". 

In that "free will" grown men may inflict unspeakable acts on small babies, young children, any innocent victim. In that "free will" I may choose to cut myself, find Jesus, sleep-around, lay it at the foot of the cross or kill myself because the pain is so intense that no amount common sense can make it go away; no amount of knowing what is right can sooth the wound that is unbound. No amount of happiness in the presence can make her past pain go away because her brain has been altered to process things as when she was 3 years old, her earliest memory of being sexually abused. Wow, I said it. That was too far. Too much to imagine or think of but ask her and she can tell you exactly how it felt, smelled in the room and where the physiological pain remained even 30 years later. One her doctor could never explain so he said, "it's all in your mind". What a terrible phrase that is. 

In that one phrase you tell that VICTIM that everything that happened to them really didn't or that they were just "too weak" to handle it. What is in our mind is actually there. The mind is not some fictional place that we go when we feel like a vacation. We live there, just as you do, every single day. These physiological issues exist whether or not it's too much for your mind to comprehend. Her mind has simply been broadened beyond what it ever should have been, simply give thanks to our God that you don't have to be able to believe it. You were given the same "free will" to stand in a group of people and declare that "faith" should be enough. 

Those words cut worse than anything anyone could ever say. I am a believer, mother, wife and a friend to many that would not have been so lucky if it weren't for the saving grace of Jesus. Without faith, I would be a drug-abuser, a prostitute; I would have killed myself when I tried the first time in the 5th grade. 5th grade!!! What could possibly have happened to an eleven year old that would make them consider suicide. Did they really want to die? No, they simply wanted the pain to go away, to be able to live with the same innocence that others do. The ability to be able to pass judgment on someone else’s mind, yet never having to face any of the traumas they did. It’s a gift; don’t ever stop being thankful for it.

I have more faith than most people who have survived what I have. Faith can move mountains, faith can heal, faith is trusting that Jesus will not give you more than you can handle. I have that faith. I know that no one loves me as much as Jesus does. I know that despite ignorance and prejudice Jesus will always give me help.

If your house was on fire and your small child was upstairs trapped and you were afraid of heights, would you have her stay in the burning home instead of jumping into the safety net below?

If your child had cancer that was 98% curable with the proper medications and treatments, would you deny that because she needs to have “faith” that God can heal her? GOD CAN HEAL, GOD DOES HEAL; however, he does give us the “free will” to choose to escape using the methods he has provided. We also have the “free will” to say “that way is not good enough”. He will allow our child to be in that 2% that dies if we choose to deny his treatment. After all, man is created in His image and He is the reason we are able to create amazing medications and treatments to fight the ills of this world that were brought on by our “original sin”.

In as much as your child being saved by a cancer-killing medication, if your child was that 3 year old victim, when she was older, would you deny her the medications she needed to be able to help her keep her head above water? Would your ignorance allow her to slip into the typical abyss that generally consumes victims of repeated trauma? Your words of intolerance could be the last she ever hears.

The good news is, there are people, amazing people, like Freud for example, who have dedicated their lives to help those that, even in our advanced culture, are stigmatized as “crazy” or “dramatic”. The truth is, there is no one cure for anything. Period. That cure for cancer that works with every other person in that 98%, doesn’t work with TWO PERCENT of the people. In that room of 100 people, I would hate to be the mother or father of those two.

The same goes with psychology as any other illness. There is no one thing that works for everyone. With much prayer and research and people surrounding you that love you, your faith in the Almighty will be what pulls you through despite the pain inflicted by well-meaning, good people who haven’t had their “faith” tested to such lengths.

I am forced to bite my tongue so often I’m surprised it still has a tip. I, as a SURVIVOR of childhood sexual abuse, by more than one person, am still in the 21^st century, forced to have more self-control than those whose minds cannot possibly even conceive that acts that could be and have been portrayed on others.

How can I continue to do this? I ask myself this often and every single time I hear my Father in Heaven whisper to me “give them grace as I have given it to you.” Even though I have been victimized, there is always someone who can one-up me. I thank God every single day that I am not them. I thank Him for the trauma that I endured, because it is mine and no one else’s. It could have been SO much worse.

The truth is, in the end, I will see Jesus and Lord willing, so will you. No matter how you view me, or how I deal with my past pain or my “Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder”, we will stand next to Him, side-by-side and neither of us will care how we got there or what we did on this earth, all we will care about is that we are there, at His feet, singing praises to our Creator.

I have faith that can move mountains, my mountains, created by abusers, not by myself. I have faith and that is why I know that God’s grace is sufficient for me.