Triggers

They are debilitating. You never know what they will be or when they will strike and sometimes they strike and you can't even pinpoint what the actual trigger was.

Tonight, we were on a family bike ride. It was such an amazing night out and (most of) the kids were so excited for this. I had been dreading it all day like the plague and pushed it off until the sun started to wane. After a few minor set-backs, we were off. I knew as we headed up the hill leaving on our street it was going to be a tough ride. I'm normally the lead and my husband follows the pack so we can ensure no one gets left behind.

This ride was different. I could not even keep up with the 7 year old. I didn't have the strength. I could feel my muscles atrophying, my pulse racing almost as fast as my mind. I was flashing back, of course but to me it wasn't anything that I hadn't worked through in the past. Finally, about 3/10 of a mile in (after staying at the back of the pack the entire time) I just hollered up to my husband that he would have to finish alone.

Heading home all I could think was that I wanted off of that bike. I even jumped off and began to walk it for a few but then decided that would take me forever so I hopped back on and pushed myself the rest of the way home.

Was it the rush of adrenaline that bothered me? The fear of the "hyperarousal symptoms" that come with PTSD? Was it the bike? Who knows.

How do I explain these things to my kids? Stupid bastard.

Half-done

Everything in my life seems to be half-done, projects in my home most specifically. I recently had my precious niece over to spend the night and when my brother came to get her I went into panic mode knowing my house was the wreck that it is always in. It's reminiscent of my childhood when we would spend the night with my aunt and she would get the call from my uncle saying he was flying home (he is a pilot) and should arrive in T-___(fill-in-blank). She would say "OK darling!, gently hang up the phone and scream "HE'S ON HIS WAY, EVERYONE CLEAN!!!!!

As I got the house in somewhat descent shape for my brothers arrival I sat down on the couch and looked around and realized how many projects were half-done in my house. The melamine has been ripped off of my cabinets in preparation for resurfacing, the ceiling has been ripped out of the front hallway for the plumbing repair we had done (a few months ago), I started to paint the hallway and my husband didn't like the color (so it is now 2-toned)...you get the drift. This stuff drives me insane. Day-in-day out I sit and think about all of the things I need to be doing to get this house in "living condition". The truth is it is already in living condition. It looks just like a family of 8 lives here and loves here. We  have so much fun hanging out and being together that I need not worry about the way things look to other people. It's what goes on inside my home that counts.

So if you ever stop by unannounced (I likely won't let you in) but if you do, remember this...

Enjoy this gorgeous day today and make amazing memories that your children will never forget!

Fight or Die!!!

I've always thought I was born a fighter and maybe I was. There is a good possibility that I became a fighter because I had to be one to survive. Are we all fighters? Or is it only us 30%ers that didn't succumb to the alcohol and drugs? For me, to breathe alone is a battle. 

The problem with this is that I don't know when or how to turn it off. Some issues aren't worth fighting over. For instance if the issue doesn't even involve me then WHY must I be ready to put on the gloves and just lay the slap-down on someone in such a crazy way? I can feel my pulse rise and my adrenaline starts pumping so fast I think my heart might beat out of my chest...

Today I have no profound words for how to NOT pick up the gloves; I'm currently searching for that. For now, I am eternally grateful that God gave me the ability to protect myself through all of the hard stuff. The stuff that most people don't have to even dream about. Thank you God for teaching me to pick up the gloves. Now, please God help me learn when the appropriate time is to take them off.

~amen

If you're going through hell...

OK, I realize I posted a song last night but I reserve the right to write about whatever is on my mind. (Since I'm the writer, even if no one reads it! hehe) This song keeps going through my mind over the last few weeks and it's a good one to share for those of us that need to have a song to remind us to power through. (I can already hear my mothers voice saying "Can she not search for a Christian song to play? Yes mom, I'll do that soon, but this one is just stuck so I need to pass it on.)

This time I'll even include the lyrics (below). If you're going through hell, and a lot of us are, keep on moving, don't slow down. You're bound to make it out soon. There are brothers and sisters out there holding your hands, we are here for you.

"If You're Going Through Hell"

Rodney Atkins

Well you know those times when you feel like
There's a sign there on your back
That says I don't mind if you kick me, seems like everybody has
Things go from bad to worse
You think it can't get worse than that
And then they do

You step off the straight and narrow
And you don't know where you are
Used the needle of your compass, to sew up your broken heart
Ask directions from a genie in a bottle of jim beam
And she lies to you
That's when you learn the truth

[Chorus]

If you're goin' through hell keep on going
Don't slow down if you're scared don't show it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there

I've been deep down in that darkness
I've been down to my last match
Felt a hundred different deamons breathin' fire down my back
And I knew that if I stumbled I'd fall right into the trap
That they were layin'

But the good news is there's angels everywhere out on the street
Holdin' out a hand to pull you back up on your feet
The one's that you've been draggin' for so long
You're on your knees might as well be prayin'
Guess what I'm sayin'

[Chorus]

If you're goin' through hell keep on going
Don't slow down if you're scared don't show it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there
When you're goin' through hell keep on movin'
Face that fire walk right through it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there

If you're goin' through hell keep on going
Don't slow down if you're scared don't show it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there
When you're goin' through hell keep on movin'
Face that fire walk right through it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there

You are not alone in this...

Why do I write this blog? Someone posted this song on facebook tonight and it immediately spoke to me. This is why I write. To let you know and to remind myself, that we are not alone in this. As brothers and sisters we will stand and we will hold your hand. We can't move each others mountains but we will be there for each other.

Mumford and Sons

Does the abuser's admission actually bring you peace?

That's the question of the day...

I got a personal admission from one of my abusers. (Trigger alert below for abuse victims)

Arms wrapped so tightly around me I couldn't breathe, my head spinning,
I could hear the words "I love you" coming from his mouth, smell his breath in my face,
still being squeezed so tightly I cannot breathe,
see the tears rolling down his face,
I can't move, he won't release his grip,
"I'm sorry I hurt you",
(if I kick him hard enough, will he let me go?), 
"please forgive me",
(if you want forgiveness why won't you let me go?),
then his tears stopped and the frown turned into laughter...

First of all, I didn't need the admission, I already knew because I was there unfortunately. Secondly, I didn't ask for this admission, he was simply trying to clear his conscience. Finally, I don't need him to ask for forgiveness in order to forgive him. I needed to forgive him in order to find peace for myself.

I encourage any of you who are searching for an admission of guilt, you may not like what you get. I left out graphic details from the scene above, it was just another instance in which I was abused. Avoid any chance of further abuse and forgive them so that you can have the peace that you so very much deserve.

Addicted much?

Did you know that 70% of all sexual abuse survivors become addicted to alcohol or drugs? SEVENTY PERCENT!!! That's a huge number! If you could be 70% assured you'd win the lottery would you play? If you could be assured with 70% certainty that you'd live if you have that medical procedure that you'd you needed, would you have it done? On the flip side, only 30% of us do not succumb. Few of us do not lose our family and our children to the effects of drugs and alcohol because of the abuse we suffered.

I may not look like what you picture an addict to look like but I am one. Thankfully, I have been able to avoid the worst and have chosen other vises. At various times in my life I have used the following: FOOD is my favorite :), SMOKING is the one that I use when I'm at my worst and sometimes WORKING OUT (wish it was that one way more often).

For those of you in the 70%, I'm praying for you. Praying you find help. Praying you realize you aren't alone and you CAN do this. Your children need you.

Meltdown...again

I had come to a certain place in my healing that I was arrogant enough to assume that I was past the meltdown phase. Arrogant being the key phrase in that statement.

Triggers will always be there so, at least for now, so will meltdowns. These take days, and sometimes weeks to recover from, even after considering myself "healed" from it all. Days that I'm not sure that I can make it out of bed and as a mother, I don't have that luxury. Days that each moment feel like even breathing is like nails on a chalkboard, I just want to scratch my skin off. (Descriptive enough?) There is a part of me that wants to die just to end what is going on inside of my head, though of course the other 3/4 of my mind realizes that this is stupid and a temporary feeling, yet it's all still so very real and overwhelming at the moment. I want to just crawl into a corner and cry.

How can this be? How can these acts of evil that have been portrayed, on us innocent victims, continue to have such profound effects on us the rest of our lives? I guess that's a whole other blog by someone with a profound amount of letters after their name. This is simply a blog written by a shadow of a soul left in the wake of pure evil.

The purpose of it is to give us a voice. Talking about it is the only way we are going to heal; reaching out for help. The more we talk about it, cringe, the more it becomes a matter-of-fact, as opposed to a matter of an act that is still occurring. Reach out; to me, to a friend, to a therapist, to an online support group, to anyone and everyone that will listen. Get help. Do not remain a victim.

Tattoo's, Piercings and the like

I recently got my nose pierced much to my mother's chagrin. That is actually NOT why I did it given the fact that I am 35 years old. She is no longer the driving force behind my decisions and hasn't been for some time.

I have always felt so different on the inside because of the abuse. I looked the same on the outside so people expected me to behave the same and were often left perplexed or confused by my awkward behavior. I do not do well in public situations. I am completely uncomfortable in them and I'd prefer to never, ever have to speak to anyone on a person level, ever. I prefer shallow conversation and chit-chat over anything else because more than that and I am certain to embarrass myself and show my insecurities. There are so very many.

On the outside I can manage to keep it together for a certain amount of time but it is a total fight and some days it is just not worth it. The damage has been done and the PTSD is permanent. Of course over the years and through treatment things will get much, much better. There will also be days that will be worse again because of triggers, nightmares, etc.

Thats leads us to the tattoos and piercings. This statement is only true for myself so if you have tatt's and don't agree then don't email me..good for you...this is why I HAVE THEM...

It's a deterrent...if I can ward away the initial 50% to 60% people turned off by tattoo's and nose rings then I've saved myself a lot of embarrassment and wasted conversations much less pain inflicted in future bad endings to relationships haven't I? (Now that's thinking ahead!)

Now my outsides reflect my inward feelings. They are different. I am different. I am not just like anyone else...nor do I want to be. So if I put you off with my tattoo's and my nose ring then you weren't worth the time and if you take the time to get to know who I really am inside then, maybe you were...I guess we shall see.

(The above tattoo is my latest and one of my favorite's. It is a "Stop Child Abuse" tattoo and those words or something similar will be added soon.)

More victims

I never thought that there might be other victims of my abusers. That may sound arrogant, like somehow I think myself special in someway that they just "chose" me, not at all, but I just never thought on that level before.

I'm sure the other victims of the particular abuser I am speaking of right now never thought about me being out there either. Amazingly enough, through this blog, I was able to reach out to and locate a fellow "abusee". That was a hell of a day.

That day for me was yesterday. The other victim, (I found out through this person there are actually 2 others) will remain nameless, but she gave me a gift she will never be able to comprehend.

I've always felt alone in the hellish journey despite the fact I have a virtual team of support, especially my darling husband who has actually carried me through most of it, but in the end only I can carry the full weight of the unspeakable actions that were carried out on me. Until now. I have a partner in pain for lack of a better term. I have someone who know my pain without even having to speak it. We both know that we would each give our lives to have spared the others but were not able to do so and now we are blood brothers, er... blood sisters.

So thank you dear blood sister, you know who you are. Thank you for being strong enough to speak up. That shows your true strength and character. Thank you for not leaving me alone in the dark.

Remember "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path"...God will show you the way.

LET'S MAKE A DIFFERENCE TODAY, TOGETHER! Step out of your comfort zone!

Comfort zones. We all have them and they are so...comfortable, aren't they? Ahhh, I am sitting in my most favorite one right now. My bed. Propped up with a huge amount of pillows, with my children tucked snuggly in their beds and the sound of the washing machine going in the background ....ahhhhhh.

GET OUT OF IT! That's my current plea anyway. It's not easy for any of us to want to learn to take the stairs instead of the elevator or drive a new way to work because of road construction or whatever the case may be and these are not even life altering changes. So I do not take this call to arms as an easy cross to bear by asking you to step out on a larger and much more uncomfortable limb. CHILDHOOD SEXUAL ABUSE.

Abuse of any kind is awful and it makes us sad, breaks our heart and makes us want to cry or rush to change the channel. But childhood sexual abuse is an unspeakable crime and yet it happens to 1 out of 4 girls in our country and 1 out of every 7 boys (those are the number that reported it to the police, I would not have been counted in that number). The only way we can make that number go down is to get out of our comfort zones and start yelling at the top of our lungs at the offenders that "WE ARE COMING FOR THEM" When we find them, we will not quietly whisk them away to jail either...we will figuratively "tar and feather" them on the way in so that every one knows their name..."Shame, Shame".

Please help me in my goal by passing this blog on to as many people as you know who may need help. Throw my name out there as someone willing to speak as a victim survivor in any setting. Please, let's all play our part in stopping the abuse in ending the damage that is being done to our children.

Diving In...again

So I said "goodbye" and I meant it. But sometimes "goodbye" isn't forever, we all know that. It's that way with all things in life, sometimes for the better and other times we only wish they were gone for good. Like the flash backs and nightmares of PTSD. The exhaustion, depression, sleeplessness, worry, anxiety and fear. That feeling of just wanting to go to sleep...they're baaaaccckkk, unfortunately.

It's been a while since I last wrote but not quite as long since I've been having to deal with these issues. So much has happened since then, abusers have passed away, more memories have surfaced, most of these things without much todo, believe it or not. For the most part I've dealt really well with the issues that have come and gone, until lately.

All of the sudden I feel as though I've been hit by a train. Left reeling...without sufficient words or energy even with which to type this now. I felt it only fair to myself, if no one else, not to leave this blog as "complete" when it certainly isn't. Until we are dead, our story is never complete. Thankfully, I'm still kicking, loving my life, my husband and my children more than ever and wondering if there will ever come a day where they will look back and have some form of understanding for what I was going through on days like today. Of course, I don't want them to be able to relate, only to empathize and learn to show love for others that are going through things like this.

I am grateful to be on the next step of this healing journey through this blog because it gives me great insight into my soul.