I have been busy staying alive. It seems that is all I can do most of the time. I'm waiting for a Catheter Ablation now. It is a procedure that will zap the area of my heart that is misfiring and causing arrhythmias.
It amazes me how the body and mind work together. The damage to my heart was done when I was eight years old. My father thought he would do his own version of electro shock treatment to make me forget what he was doing to me... what he accomplished was heart damage that was held in a dissociative part named Jessica. The symptoms did not start until I remembered the incident about 10 years ago. Wierd, huh! If you asked a physician if this is possible, I'm pretty sure they would say "No way"!!! How little they know!!
I tried to "warn" (or to actually reassure myself) when I saw the cardiologist, but he was unconcerned that I had a history of trauma. Dr's relate to the term PTSD...but not to DID or childhood abuse. I am learning to use their language. But it still did not matter to him...I know it does not change the diagnosis or the treatment, but that was not the reason I wanted him to know.
Most people who have medical procedures that require conscious sedation don't remember the procedure afterward. That is the point of conscious sedation. Because I am multiple, conscious sedation only makes me unable to respond. I remember every detail of the procedure. So...to prepare for the Ablation, my therapist and I have been working diligently to reduce the fear all my internal kids have.
We felt that death is inevitable... set in place by the actions and wishes of my dad. Pretty much a Pygmalion effect. I'm VERY grateful that the fear of the procedure and the belief that we are fated to die are mostly all gone!!! Yea! Now it is just living long enough to get well!
Learning about the ACE study and how to counter the effects of the abuse has helped me enormously. So over all I'm a happy camper!!
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Saturday, May 24, 2014
I thought I'd add part 2 of "My House" writings.
My House, Too
I wake up slowly, and realize it might be an
easy day. What's hard is to wake up with a jolt, no warning, like a bucket of
icy water thrown in my face. Even so, I open my eyes cautiously. I never know
what I'll find. This afternoon, I don't see much out of order. Unfortunately,
what one sees is not what one gets. It's what I'll find under the bed, in the
closet and in the kitchen that concerns me.
I sit up and smile. She left the
bedspread. I had spent a long time fixing up the one that was here, and I
wasn't sure she would keep it. I'm glad she did! Maybe there is hope for her
yet. I say that in jest, but only partly so. I don't have that much influence
on her, and I'm not sure I want to. We do influence each other, but we mostly
go in circles.
She closed the closet door. That helps me
know how she is doing. She is fearful. I open the curtains to let in some
light. Light always helps! As I turn around to head for the bathroom, I see she
missed the hamper with her dirty clothes again. As usual, I pick them up and
deposit them into the bulging hamper. I sigh, does she ever do the laundry?
I can smell roses before I turn the corner
into the bathroom. Bath salts, there on the counter. I'm surprised! I know she
hates roses. I don't much like them either, but someone does. I see she had a
change of heart, as some of the salts are still in the bottom of the trash can.
I find my toothbrush where I left it, and brush my teeth. My nightgown and robe
are still behind the door. Now I'm really shocked!! Usually I have to dig it
out of the trash, or go buy a new one. It was nice of her to put up a hook for
me.
I sigh audibly as I go down the hall. I
wonder how the kitchen is. I shouldn't have wondered. What a mess!! Unwashed
dishes litter the counter top. Empty food boxes are all over. I think she is
afraid to throw anything away. It's as if some part of her, or some event will
be erased if she discards something. I doubt there is any food to eat. If I
weren't so famished, I'd go back to bed! I decide to find something to eat
first, clean second. I look for the bowls, the new pretty ones, and finally
find them. I had all these cupboards organized... not too long ago. I'm sure it
hasn't been that long, but I guess I'm not that sure. Oh well. There are a few
flakes of oatmeal left, and a can of peaches. That will have to do.
It
takes a long time to clean the kitchen. I am weary by the time I finally put
the last dish away. I have somewhat worked out my feelings. I am very tired of
picking up after her. I so often have to put everything in order. I'm not
angry, just tired. When I back up, I can kind of see her side. Maybe...though I
really don't know for sure. I can only guess. I think one reason the house is
always a mess is because she leaves in such a hurry. Maybe she doesn't have a
chance to clean up before rushing out the door. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on
her.. Maybe...but I think she should at least buy food. What am I going to eat?
I will have to go shopping soon, and that's on top of the laundry! Non of us
will survive long without nourishment. Maybe because she leaves so often it is
hard for her to keep track of what needs to be done. I know I am only one in a
large system...and I know far more than she does.
The living room isn't too bad. It
doesn't take me long to straighten it up. I don't think she spends much time in
here. It's ironic that she spends her time trying to live while bypassing the
living room. This is where I spend most of my time. I read, listen to music,
draw and take naps in here. The kids toys are in here also. It is a great room
to baby sit in. I can fold laundry in here, and iron. I do have to admit
though, that for a long quiet sleep, nothing beats the bedroom.
I sit gingerly on the bed. It is
late, and I am tired. I hurt everywhere! The clothes are washed and put away.
Ironing done. The kitchen is well stocked again and everything is cleaned and
organized. Now the kids will have something to eat. I guess i didn't have to do
all this work in one afternoon, but I never know how long I get to stay. i take
a deep breath and exhale slowly. Now I have time to think. I wish things would
change, but I don't know how they can. I will continue to pick up the pieces
after her, sharing in our life. I hope one day she will know how much I do for
her. I hope one day she will know how much I love her, and won't see me as a
bad or scary thing. For now I will be content with my hook behind the bathroom
door, and a pale yellow comforter with blue and lavender Hydrangea on it.
Finding a good book to read is an added treat!
(Rachel)
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Hello again
It has been too long since I posted anything. My computer died, may it NOT RIP. It took 5 months to get a new one. I am still in therapy...most likely will be until I kick my copper colored bucket.
I've been working on thriving...not just surviving!! I've done more research on the ACE study and finally found info on how to fight the physical effects in adulthood stemming from childhood abuse.
1) Get Psychotherapy. Don't quit until you are working well with the therapist. It took Mac and me several years to work well together...now we move mountains.
2) Take a lot of Omega 3's. Find a good source of fish oil, and take a lot!! All the essential fatty acids are great to reduce inflammation. (Chia seeds are great...better than flax)
3) Exercise, get moving! Slow is good at first, and I promise it will get easier and you WILL feel better!
4) If your sleep patterns are all goofed up, get help. Good sleep is ESSENTIAL to living a normal life span.
For those of you with high ACE scores (mine is an 8...or is it 9???) Eat healthy and think positive. Our brains just might be our best chance to fool the reaper.
I thought I'd post a few stories to demonstrate what it's like to live plural.
My House
I turn the knob and slowly enter the room. It’s pitch black, and I quickly reach for the light switch. As the light spreads, I gently set down my bags, and close the door, locking it. I am happy to see that everything is in place. No laundry on the couch, the plants are still alive, the books are all put away and the toys are in the toy box.
I leave my bags by the door, unwilling to unpack them. They'll be ready next time I leave. Being prepared is important. I’m not sure how long I've been gone. More than a few hours, and less than a week, I'm guessing.
Trying to identify the growing knot in my stomach, I go to the kitchen. I decide I must be hungry. Thankfully the dishes are done. I couldn't remember if I had done them or not. I automatically reach for a bowl. Cereal sounds good right now.
I stare in amazement in the cupboard I just opened. Where are the pretty, peach colored bowls that reside on this shelf? Why do I see cans of green beans and sweet potato?
On the second shelf, where my plates go, I see dried beans, rice and pasta. These things belong in the pantry! I swing around to open the pantry doors. In front of me are pots and pans! The food is gone! I’m not sure if I’m scared or angry. Who has the right to rearrange my cupboards without asking me?
Now I am wildly opening my cupboards, and seeing where everything is. All thoughts of food flee, as in a rage I begin to put everything back where it goes. Some time later,
I sink to the floor, exhausted. I'm shaking like a leaf, and in great need of some water. At least now I know where the glasses are!
I decide it’s time for bed. I'm too tired to do anything else. I've calmed down now, as I make my way down the hall towards the bathroom. All I want to do, is to brush my teeth, and go to sleep. Even now, it is such an effort to put one foot in front of the other. As I turn the light on, I'm dumbfounded to not find my yellow toothbrush. I guess I can go get the one out of my bag, but that doesn't tell me where my yellow one is. I ALWAYS keep one here and in my travel bag. As a second thought, I look in the medicine cabinet. There it is, but I have no clue why it’s in there. Oh well, I’m too tired to care. As I brush, I keep smelling mint flavored roses, ugh! I know where the mint is coming from, so after rinsing, I sniff again, and search for the roses. I don't like roses; everyone knows that, don’t they? I find rose scented bath salts and fling them into the trash. I hate baths too! If I have to smell them, they will at least be out of sight!
As I turn towards the door to go out, I see an unfamiliar nightgown and robe hanging on the hook behind the door. I put that hook there, why does it betray me? I’m shocked at my thought processes. How could the hook do anything to me? But it’s the only sensible thing to think! As I hold them out and look them over, I realize with a shudder, that they are my size, but they're way too skimpy to be mine. Where did they come from?
This is MY house! No one has the right to mess with MY house, MY things, or MY head. I realize with a blaze of anger that messing with my head is what really bothers me
the most. I don't mind it that someone house sits when I'm gone, but I think they should leave MY stuff alone, and leave things as they find them! Is that asking too much? I march into the bedroom, to see what else I can be mad about, but as usual, my anger is short lived. I find I'm too afraid to be angry. There is a new picture on the wall, MY wall. MY simple light blue comforter has been destroyed. Someone has bleached it, and painted it. Now it has lavender and blue hydrangea on a pale yellow and ecru background. As I look closely at it, I see that it really is beautiful. It is something I would have done, if I'd thought of it. Maybe I can get used to it, I think, as a smile forms on my lips.
I sit on the bed to think. I know this is MY house, because it just is. Besides, I checked the address outside. There are some things that no one has messed with. Most everything looks normal. No one has done me any harm in the changes I found in the house. Well, except the rose stuff. The kitchen was an inconvenience I didn't need, but no real harm. Besides, I left some of the things as I found them. They were placed in better spots than where I'd put them.
I am starting to get the feeling that I've done this before. It feels that way, anyhow. It’s the head stuff. I’m not comfortable with finding my things messed with. But, I now realize, that rarely has anything of mine disappeared. I've always found everything. And, almost ALL the changes I find, are good ones. Well, except the roses…. How will she feel when I'm gone, to find her bath salts in the trashcan? I go back to the bathroom, retrieve the stinky salts, and place it back on the counter. I feel better.
I sit on the bed again, I'm not done thinking. I know I go away a lot. The house does needs to be kept up when I'm gone. Someone is obviously doing that. So what’s the problem? I guess the fact that she doesn't ask permission when she changes things. It’s the head stuff again. No respect. My wishes or needs don't matter. I don't have any control over my life. She acts like she has every right to do as she pleases in MY house. It’s not fair!!!
Whoever said life is fair? I must write that down, and stick it where I can read it often. I seem to forget so easily. I sigh, a long and audible sigh. I am so tired. Tired physically of being confused, afraid, and angry. I'm too tired to think any more. My thoughts wander with my eyes, and I spy a book on the nightstand. I guess things could be worse. I smile as I realize she could enjoy boring books. As I pick it up and lay back on the pillow, I exclaim out loud, “hey, I've been wanting to read this book for a long time!!
Crystal
I've been working on thriving...not just surviving!! I've done more research on the ACE study and finally found info on how to fight the physical effects in adulthood stemming from childhood abuse.
1) Get Psychotherapy. Don't quit until you are working well with the therapist. It took Mac and me several years to work well together...now we move mountains.
2) Take a lot of Omega 3's. Find a good source of fish oil, and take a lot!! All the essential fatty acids are great to reduce inflammation. (Chia seeds are great...better than flax)
3) Exercise, get moving! Slow is good at first, and I promise it will get easier and you WILL feel better!
4) If your sleep patterns are all goofed up, get help. Good sleep is ESSENTIAL to living a normal life span.
For those of you with high ACE scores (mine is an 8...or is it 9???) Eat healthy and think positive. Our brains just might be our best chance to fool the reaper.
I thought I'd post a few stories to demonstrate what it's like to live plural.
My House
I turn the knob and slowly enter the room. It’s pitch black, and I quickly reach for the light switch. As the light spreads, I gently set down my bags, and close the door, locking it. I am happy to see that everything is in place. No laundry on the couch, the plants are still alive, the books are all put away and the toys are in the toy box.
I leave my bags by the door, unwilling to unpack them. They'll be ready next time I leave. Being prepared is important. I’m not sure how long I've been gone. More than a few hours, and less than a week, I'm guessing.
Trying to identify the growing knot in my stomach, I go to the kitchen. I decide I must be hungry. Thankfully the dishes are done. I couldn't remember if I had done them or not. I automatically reach for a bowl. Cereal sounds good right now.
I stare in amazement in the cupboard I just opened. Where are the pretty, peach colored bowls that reside on this shelf? Why do I see cans of green beans and sweet potato?
On the second shelf, where my plates go, I see dried beans, rice and pasta. These things belong in the pantry! I swing around to open the pantry doors. In front of me are pots and pans! The food is gone! I’m not sure if I’m scared or angry. Who has the right to rearrange my cupboards without asking me?
Now I am wildly opening my cupboards, and seeing where everything is. All thoughts of food flee, as in a rage I begin to put everything back where it goes. Some time later,
I sink to the floor, exhausted. I'm shaking like a leaf, and in great need of some water. At least now I know where the glasses are!
I decide it’s time for bed. I'm too tired to do anything else. I've calmed down now, as I make my way down the hall towards the bathroom. All I want to do, is to brush my teeth, and go to sleep. Even now, it is such an effort to put one foot in front of the other. As I turn the light on, I'm dumbfounded to not find my yellow toothbrush. I guess I can go get the one out of my bag, but that doesn't tell me where my yellow one is. I ALWAYS keep one here and in my travel bag. As a second thought, I look in the medicine cabinet. There it is, but I have no clue why it’s in there. Oh well, I’m too tired to care. As I brush, I keep smelling mint flavored roses, ugh! I know where the mint is coming from, so after rinsing, I sniff again, and search for the roses. I don't like roses; everyone knows that, don’t they? I find rose scented bath salts and fling them into the trash. I hate baths too! If I have to smell them, they will at least be out of sight!
As I turn towards the door to go out, I see an unfamiliar nightgown and robe hanging on the hook behind the door. I put that hook there, why does it betray me? I’m shocked at my thought processes. How could the hook do anything to me? But it’s the only sensible thing to think! As I hold them out and look them over, I realize with a shudder, that they are my size, but they're way too skimpy to be mine. Where did they come from?
This is MY house! No one has the right to mess with MY house, MY things, or MY head. I realize with a blaze of anger that messing with my head is what really bothers me
the most. I don't mind it that someone house sits when I'm gone, but I think they should leave MY stuff alone, and leave things as they find them! Is that asking too much? I march into the bedroom, to see what else I can be mad about, but as usual, my anger is short lived. I find I'm too afraid to be angry. There is a new picture on the wall, MY wall. MY simple light blue comforter has been destroyed. Someone has bleached it, and painted it. Now it has lavender and blue hydrangea on a pale yellow and ecru background. As I look closely at it, I see that it really is beautiful. It is something I would have done, if I'd thought of it. Maybe I can get used to it, I think, as a smile forms on my lips.
I sit on the bed to think. I know this is MY house, because it just is. Besides, I checked the address outside. There are some things that no one has messed with. Most everything looks normal. No one has done me any harm in the changes I found in the house. Well, except the rose stuff. The kitchen was an inconvenience I didn't need, but no real harm. Besides, I left some of the things as I found them. They were placed in better spots than where I'd put them.
I am starting to get the feeling that I've done this before. It feels that way, anyhow. It’s the head stuff. I’m not comfortable with finding my things messed with. But, I now realize, that rarely has anything of mine disappeared. I've always found everything. And, almost ALL the changes I find, are good ones. Well, except the roses…. How will she feel when I'm gone, to find her bath salts in the trashcan? I go back to the bathroom, retrieve the stinky salts, and place it back on the counter. I feel better.
I sit on the bed again, I'm not done thinking. I know I go away a lot. The house does needs to be kept up when I'm gone. Someone is obviously doing that. So what’s the problem? I guess the fact that she doesn't ask permission when she changes things. It’s the head stuff again. No respect. My wishes or needs don't matter. I don't have any control over my life. She acts like she has every right to do as she pleases in MY house. It’s not fair!!!
Whoever said life is fair? I must write that down, and stick it where I can read it often. I seem to forget so easily. I sigh, a long and audible sigh. I am so tired. Tired physically of being confused, afraid, and angry. I'm too tired to think any more. My thoughts wander with my eyes, and I spy a book on the nightstand. I guess things could be worse. I smile as I realize she could enjoy boring books. As I pick it up and lay back on the pillow, I exclaim out loud, “hey, I've been wanting to read this book for a long time!!
Crystal
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
enditnow
enditnow and Loma Linda University did a film (30 Min long) on the ACE study. I referred to the ACE study in an earlier post but now have the video to post. There are 3 versions of the video. I have only watched the Seventh-day-Adventist version. I know they are very similar, just a little different. You can take your pick.
I am interviewed in the video. It is kind of a long story how I got involved...weird thing is, I did not realize at the time exactly what the video was about, other than childhood sexual abuse. I'm sure they told me and the reason I didn't know was a result of the DID...lol... but I would have shared so much more about physical problems resulting from childhood abuse...but maybe that will come in time too...
I can't tell you how important dealing with past trauma is to your present and future!!!!! Feel free to share this video with everyone...you never know who might need this information.
I am interviewed in the video. It is kind of a long story how I got involved...weird thing is, I did not realize at the time exactly what the video was about, other than childhood sexual abuse. I'm sure they told me and the reason I didn't know was a result of the DID...lol... but I would have shared so much more about physical problems resulting from childhood abuse...but maybe that will come in time too...
I can't tell you how important dealing with past trauma is to your present and future!!!!! Feel free to share this video with everyone...you never know who might need this information.
Mainstream Version
Adventist Version
Religious Version
Going Back
I went back to Bladenboro. I didn't know if I could survive going back. I
did have chest pain. My Blood pressure skyrocketed, but I had an amazing support
system and I'm home again and trying to process it. I went to Bladenboro in January...and have been mostly brain dead since then... which is ok since my brain is still re-organizing itself. My husband is patient, my children are supportive, my therapist is amazing and my friends are awesome! I know it will get better.
I found the house we lived in when I lost my shoes... and located where I believe the murders happened. While there, I talked to some people who can look for the bodies and research things that happened during that time in the area. Much of the land has been cleared, which will make the search easier. I don't know when or if the search will happen, but I do believe it will.
I am surprised at how much better I can breathe since going. My blood pressure is lower and my heart beats a little more regularly. My muscles are more relaxed more of the time. My system (inner family) is starting to thaw. We have been frozen since actively working on this memory. (2+ years) I don't feel as alone. It has been so quiet inside for so long. For a long time it has felt like I (The part Crystal) have been left out to deal with life alone, with no inside help. I'm pretty sure I've been getting help all this time...but I haven't felt it. It has also been harder to tell when someone else is out. It is like me as a total person is incognito. No one has been willing or perhaps able to own anything. Even anything unimportant...
My feelings of being alone outside are better too. (See previous post) Two friends went with me to Bladenboro and two more who couldn't go physically, accompanied us in thoughts and prayers. One of the friends that went with me is a childhood friend. She remembers me telling her about the lady and the little girl in the hole in the ground when we were small. Amazing!!!! My husband and children were extremely supportive even though they couldn't come with me. I didn't tell my siblings about going. I haven't told them about this memory yet either. I have been so afraid too. BUT...I'm telling them today. Fear can do a person in...and I don't want to be done in anymore. If the bodies are found, they will probably find out then anyway.
I don't know how much I can say, or pictures I can show here...the investigator said not to say very much so I don't interfere with any investigation that might happen...so I guess this is enough for today. Hopefully it won't take me so long to post again.
I found the house we lived in when I lost my shoes... and located where I believe the murders happened. While there, I talked to some people who can look for the bodies and research things that happened during that time in the area. Much of the land has been cleared, which will make the search easier. I don't know when or if the search will happen, but I do believe it will.
I am surprised at how much better I can breathe since going. My blood pressure is lower and my heart beats a little more regularly. My muscles are more relaxed more of the time. My system (inner family) is starting to thaw. We have been frozen since actively working on this memory. (2+ years) I don't feel as alone. It has been so quiet inside for so long. For a long time it has felt like I (The part Crystal) have been left out to deal with life alone, with no inside help. I'm pretty sure I've been getting help all this time...but I haven't felt it. It has also been harder to tell when someone else is out. It is like me as a total person is incognito. No one has been willing or perhaps able to own anything. Even anything unimportant...
My feelings of being alone outside are better too. (See previous post) Two friends went with me to Bladenboro and two more who couldn't go physically, accompanied us in thoughts and prayers. One of the friends that went with me is a childhood friend. She remembers me telling her about the lady and the little girl in the hole in the ground when we were small. Amazing!!!! My husband and children were extremely supportive even though they couldn't come with me. I didn't tell my siblings about going. I haven't told them about this memory yet either. I have been so afraid too. BUT...I'm telling them today. Fear can do a person in...and I don't want to be done in anymore. If the bodies are found, they will probably find out then anyway.
I don't know how much I can say, or pictures I can show here...the investigator said not to say very much so I don't interfere with any investigation that might happen...so I guess this is enough for today. Hopefully it won't take me so long to post again.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Inadequate words for hurting people
Life does go on. Strange and horrid things still happen. Like so many other people, I am hurting for the families in Newtown. I grieve and pray for the families of the slain, the children who survived but are scarred... for the small town no longer so small, and for all who feel their hedge of safely crumbling around them.
Sometimes there are no reasons why. There are never concrete answers that soothe and bring closure to hearts broken like this. Even though God can and does turn bitter sorrow into sweet peace, He does not cause something like this to happen in order to reach someones heart or to teach a lesson. People generally don't know what to say when tragedy strikes. Too often we spout cliches to try to heal the hurt and say that "this is Gods will," or "one day you will understand"....I don't believe that for a minute! I am not a theologian, and certainly not an expert on God, but this is what I believe:
The foundation of the universe is God’s Love. That is the framework of all things. It is like the warp in a weaving. The weft, or what weaves into God’s love are things He gives us to know Him better.
1) Himself…found in daily communion with Him
2) Healthy living, exercise, good sleep….
3) Relationships with others
These things can make our lives fuller, but unfortunately, because humanity chose sin, there is evil woven into God’s otherwise perfect weaving. Since we live in a sinful world, bad things will happen to us. God’s perfect plan never includes pain and death, but since sin, God’s perfect plan is on hold, waiting for Heaven. Until then, we must contend with evil in this world. I believe that Satan attempts to destroy us continuously. He uses everything he can to kill and hurt humanity. His goal is to destroy the objects of God’s joy, and to cause who is left to lose faith in God’s power. I believe that Satan influences nature, and if the angels did not hold back the evil, the whole earth would have already been destroyed.
Pain and suffering are natural results of living in a world that chose to go against God’s perfect plan. Some people say God chooses not to change nature, some say He can’t. I don’t know which is true; I prefer to believe in a God that has no limits. There is quite a difference between a God who can’t and a God who won’t. I believe God can change nature, (Earthquakes, hurricanes, fire…) but doesn’t always do so. If He did every time we ask Him, there would be nothing constant in the Universe. No one would know what to expect in life. God is all-powerful, but he does not always rescue us out of painful and harmful circumstances. If He did, natural consequences would be gone, and so would everyone’s free will.
Natural consequences come as a result of people’s choices. Choosing to be in the wrong place at the wrong time…disease brought on by poor living choices…breaking the law can land you in jail. These are free will choices. What is harder to understand is when someone else’s free choice hurts an innocent person. A child does not choose to be abused or neglected…a drunk driver kills… someone shoots randomly into a home killing innocent people...(Twenty six people die in Newtown because of the choices of one very sick individual.) These things are beyond unfair, but they are real. All of us experience the results of poor choices and other people’s sins in our lives. When we call out to God to help us, He ALWAYS does…but often the help comes in ways hard to identify, and in God’s own timing.
God’s tears are shed when His children suffer. It is never in His perfect plan for pain and death to occur. Many people find comfort in believing that in the end, they will understand why evil things happened in their lives or in the lives of those they loved. I don’t believe God hurts us in order to heal us. I believe the only answer some people will have as to “why,” will be the embrace and shared tears of an empathizing and equally hurt God. There are times when we face disease, pain and loss that have no root cause other than living on a sinful planet. God only asks of us then, “Can you trust me with this…even if you never know why?”
Rescuing everyone in need is naturally what we want, and expect of God. It would certainly be His first choice also. But it would be like removing sections of our lives. In our weaving, we see that if God cut out the evil, then the strands holding together life, as we know it, would unravel, and that would mean that God would unravel, and GOD CANNOT UNRAVEL. What He does instead is to come in and modify that bad spot. He can color it a different color…He gives us strength to endure, and can bring in extra earthly help. When time is over, if we continue to trust Him, we will find ourselves bound closer to Gods heart. We can be assured that whatever we suffer, Jesus suffered it first. He understands our needs and the unspoken cries of our hearts. “ Sometimes your mind may become clouded because of pain. Then do not try to think. You know Jesus loves you. He understands your weaknesses. You can do His will by simply resting in His arms.” (Ministry of Healing)
Sometimes He does perform miracles. Sometimes he doesn’t. God’s weaving of life is endless, and we only live in one small spot of it. We cannot see the whole weaving like He does. He alone is able to orchestrate life and bring all who will to eternal life (That is His ultimate goal!!!) The entire weaving is what is important. If we live in Gods love, and accept His help in our lives, then in Heaven, we can look at the tapestry from both sides, and see the places God repaired and reworked the fibers.
So much for my puny thoughts...I guess searching for answers even when there are none feels better than doing nothing.
Sometimes there are no reasons why. There are never concrete answers that soothe and bring closure to hearts broken like this. Even though God can and does turn bitter sorrow into sweet peace, He does not cause something like this to happen in order to reach someones heart or to teach a lesson. People generally don't know what to say when tragedy strikes. Too often we spout cliches to try to heal the hurt and say that "this is Gods will," or "one day you will understand"....I don't believe that for a minute! I am not a theologian, and certainly not an expert on God, but this is what I believe:
The foundation of the universe is God’s Love. That is the framework of all things. It is like the warp in a weaving. The weft, or what weaves into God’s love are things He gives us to know Him better.
1) Himself…found in daily communion with Him
2) Healthy living, exercise, good sleep….
3) Relationships with others
These things can make our lives fuller, but unfortunately, because humanity chose sin, there is evil woven into God’s otherwise perfect weaving. Since we live in a sinful world, bad things will happen to us. God’s perfect plan never includes pain and death, but since sin, God’s perfect plan is on hold, waiting for Heaven. Until then, we must contend with evil in this world. I believe that Satan attempts to destroy us continuously. He uses everything he can to kill and hurt humanity. His goal is to destroy the objects of God’s joy, and to cause who is left to lose faith in God’s power. I believe that Satan influences nature, and if the angels did not hold back the evil, the whole earth would have already been destroyed.
Pain and suffering are natural results of living in a world that chose to go against God’s perfect plan. Some people say God chooses not to change nature, some say He can’t. I don’t know which is true; I prefer to believe in a God that has no limits. There is quite a difference between a God who can’t and a God who won’t. I believe God can change nature, (Earthquakes, hurricanes, fire…) but doesn’t always do so. If He did every time we ask Him, there would be nothing constant in the Universe. No one would know what to expect in life. God is all-powerful, but he does not always rescue us out of painful and harmful circumstances. If He did, natural consequences would be gone, and so would everyone’s free will.
Natural consequences come as a result of people’s choices. Choosing to be in the wrong place at the wrong time…disease brought on by poor living choices…breaking the law can land you in jail. These are free will choices. What is harder to understand is when someone else’s free choice hurts an innocent person. A child does not choose to be abused or neglected…a drunk driver kills… someone shoots randomly into a home killing innocent people...(Twenty six people die in Newtown because of the choices of one very sick individual.) These things are beyond unfair, but they are real. All of us experience the results of poor choices and other people’s sins in our lives. When we call out to God to help us, He ALWAYS does…but often the help comes in ways hard to identify, and in God’s own timing.
God’s tears are shed when His children suffer. It is never in His perfect plan for pain and death to occur. Many people find comfort in believing that in the end, they will understand why evil things happened in their lives or in the lives of those they loved. I don’t believe God hurts us in order to heal us. I believe the only answer some people will have as to “why,” will be the embrace and shared tears of an empathizing and equally hurt God. There are times when we face disease, pain and loss that have no root cause other than living on a sinful planet. God only asks of us then, “Can you trust me with this…even if you never know why?”
Rescuing everyone in need is naturally what we want, and expect of God. It would certainly be His first choice also. But it would be like removing sections of our lives. In our weaving, we see that if God cut out the evil, then the strands holding together life, as we know it, would unravel, and that would mean that God would unravel, and GOD CANNOT UNRAVEL. What He does instead is to come in and modify that bad spot. He can color it a different color…He gives us strength to endure, and can bring in extra earthly help. When time is over, if we continue to trust Him, we will find ourselves bound closer to Gods heart. We can be assured that whatever we suffer, Jesus suffered it first. He understands our needs and the unspoken cries of our hearts. “ Sometimes your mind may become clouded because of pain. Then do not try to think. You know Jesus loves you. He understands your weaknesses. You can do His will by simply resting in His arms.” (Ministry of Healing)
Sometimes He does perform miracles. Sometimes he doesn’t. God’s weaving of life is endless, and we only live in one small spot of it. We cannot see the whole weaving like He does. He alone is able to orchestrate life and bring all who will to eternal life (That is His ultimate goal!!!) The entire weaving is what is important. If we live in Gods love, and accept His help in our lives, then in Heaven, we can look at the tapestry from both sides, and see the places God repaired and reworked the fibers.
So much for my puny thoughts...I guess searching for answers even when there are none feels better than doing nothing.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Alone
I have discovered that life keeps moving. (I know...you already know that...) Even if I don't move with it. I thought I knew it too, but lately it has become more plain to me. My head is still stuck, frozen in time. The tangled fiber optic threads in my brain are slowly rearranging themselves into a new pattern. I hope it will end up somewhat familiar.
I have been numb. Living on auto pilot. Going through the motions. I am now feeling the beginnings of anxiety. I know soon I will have to re-visit this memory and re-process it some more. I want all of it to turn into a long term memory instead of staying fresh, as if it happened yesterday.
Being caught between then and now leaves me very empty and very isolated. I can't seem to connect very well to anything or anyone. It is like the experience of something so horrendous settles me quietly into a room that only a few people have been in. It is a silent room. It does not help to know that others have been here before me. I am sure there will also be people here in the future, but we will never meet. As the room is silent, it is also dark. No one who has ever experienced this room acknowledges it's existence, let alone someone else who has been here. The knowledge that these kind of crimes happen to other people also, is too painful. It makes what happened too real. If it only happened to me then there might be a chance that I made it all up or that I am crazy. Both scenarios are easier to accept than the truth. I want to believe this never happened.
What would it look like to connect with someone who has either been in this room, or is willing to come in and sit a while with me? A finger touch is all it would take to begin thawing the past and its icy grip. I don't expect anyone to understand completely, or to fix it. I'd just like to know I'm not alone. I'd like to see myself in someone else's eyes...not reflected, but SEEN. I'd like to know there is someone out there who is willing to come and sit a while... even if I can't let them in.
I have been numb. Living on auto pilot. Going through the motions. I am now feeling the beginnings of anxiety. I know soon I will have to re-visit this memory and re-process it some more. I want all of it to turn into a long term memory instead of staying fresh, as if it happened yesterday.
Being caught between then and now leaves me very empty and very isolated. I can't seem to connect very well to anything or anyone. It is like the experience of something so horrendous settles me quietly into a room that only a few people have been in. It is a silent room. It does not help to know that others have been here before me. I am sure there will also be people here in the future, but we will never meet. As the room is silent, it is also dark. No one who has ever experienced this room acknowledges it's existence, let alone someone else who has been here. The knowledge that these kind of crimes happen to other people also, is too painful. It makes what happened too real. If it only happened to me then there might be a chance that I made it all up or that I am crazy. Both scenarios are easier to accept than the truth. I want to believe this never happened.
What would it look like to connect with someone who has either been in this room, or is willing to come in and sit a while with me? A finger touch is all it would take to begin thawing the past and its icy grip. I don't expect anyone to understand completely, or to fix it. I'd just like to know I'm not alone. I'd like to see myself in someone else's eyes...not reflected, but SEEN. I'd like to know there is someone out there who is willing to come and sit a while... even if I can't let them in.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Her Eyes
So, the desire to never leave the house again is
still here. I fight it to go out. My brain is still a tangled mass of fiber
optic threads. The paths they once neatly followed are barely visible
underneath the heap of glowing yellow strands. At least the fire works have
slowed down. There is not as much exploding now.
I still have no proverbial shoes
on. My feet are ice cold. For the past several weeks it has felt like this
process of remembering is eroding and devouring my life energy. Having
verbalized that in therapy last week, the last half of this horrendous memory
came out very quickly. Instead of weeks or months to ease it out, the rest of
it came in one session.
The whole point of drawing it out
was to survive it. Our amazing therapist has been painstakingly distancing us
from the images so that we are not overwhelmed. We have lost parts for months
at a time who just disappeared due to being re-traumatized during the
remembering. Our therapist says we are getting stronger and are doing better.
It is hard for me to see how I am objectively. It does not feel like winning
this war is worth knowing what I now know.
How much I really know is very
relative. I have “known” the main points of this memory for quite a while… or
rather, someone has. There are different levels of knowing also. Memories that
have been packed away from ones consciousness are often broken down into
elements:
1)
Images
2)
Emotions
3)
Somatic sensations (Body memories)
4)
Cognitive knowing
These elements can be remembered separately. I have had
flashes of cognitive knowing and images. The emotions have mostly come out in
session. The terror has always been with me. I just did not know what it was or
where it came from. It masqueraded as many things through out my life. It
learned to skip in and out of my experiences, keeping its disguises so I
wouldn’t remember too soon. My ability to hold back the feelings has been
eroding. Keeping everything manageable is a delicate balance.
I can
hardly handle knowing what happened. I feel like a dancer in an endless
pirouette. My skin hurts. My ears hurt. My eyes hurt. Maybe like sensory
overload. I don’t know what is worse…taking a long time to remember…or
remembering quickly. I suppose there is no easy way through this minefield!
It is her
eyes that I see…every waking minute of the day. Eyes from a dirty face streaked
with tears. She is gagged, and at this point, all her tears are spent. I did
not know one could cry until there were no more tears. I know it now. Her eyes
held mine steadily. Our eyes were locked in a wordless conversation. They
flickered hope, shouted pleadings, faded into despair, and then started over
again. I can see the hope finally fading in her eyes. I cannot bear watching
the image of her dying. Her eyes were focused on mine until they turned in
resignation to look at my father. She was so very brave. If she’d had a chance
she would have won, fighting back. My inner children refer to her as “the poor
little girl who never got to go back home.”
I don’t
know if their bodies were ever found in that deep grave behind the First
Baptist church in Bladenboro. Maybe their families are settled and at peace.
They may not still be alive…but if it matters in the eternal scheme of things,
I have no doubt that someone will find them
.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Owning my stuff
Today I publicly take ownership of me...all of me. Katherine started this blog while I was sleeping...and Charlotte removed references to me. Now I will, for good or ill, own it. The only ill I can see is negative reactions from my siblings, cousins, or in-laws. My mom is gone now, and she is the only one I care about protecting.
I have, for the most part, tried to hide my multiplicity. The whole purpose of DID during childhood is to hide the truth of the abuse from everyone...mostly yourself. Keeping everything at an even kneel is paramount to survival. I'm done hiding. I'm done making excuses for my father. I'm done shielding everyone who doesn't believe what I remember. I'm done doubting myself (no doubts for today anyway). I want to stand up straight and look around me. I want to look through the crowd and over the crowd, not at the ground around my feet. I may not have shoes on, but I am standing. One day, I will fly!
I have, for the most part, tried to hide my multiplicity. The whole purpose of DID during childhood is to hide the truth of the abuse from everyone...mostly yourself. Keeping everything at an even kneel is paramount to survival. I'm done hiding. I'm done making excuses for my father. I'm done shielding everyone who doesn't believe what I remember. I'm done doubting myself (no doubts for today anyway). I want to stand up straight and look around me. I want to look through the crowd and over the crowd, not at the ground around my feet. I may not have shoes on, but I am standing. One day, I will fly!
Monday, October 1, 2012
Why kids don't tell
People often ask why I didn't tell someone what was happening to me as a child. I have thought a lot about this and have finally come up with an answer that fits for me. A therapist will give reasons why children remain silent. I have heard them all, and agree with them...but I need more. I want to see more fully from a child's eyes and understand from a child's heart. That shouldn't be hard with so many internal children, except that kids don't have words for such things, so I have to take what they feel and verbalize it.
1) I did tell. Not a lot of people, but enough that someone could have responded. When no one responds, a child stops trying. It is more important to hold onto hope than to risk telling and not be taken seriously. More on hope later...
2) There are usually enough normal/good things in a child's life to make reality too confusing. It is crazy-making to hold onto two realities at the same time. A child will want to sort it out...but that isn't possible.
3) My fathers retribution was not worth the risk of telling.
4) The perp's threats are terrifying.
5) Perp's always blame the child.
6) It felt like to me that my father was omnipresent. It felt like he knew everything I did, thought or felt. In order to preserve hope and not die, I "needed" to take the blame for the abuse. If I would bathe more often, comb my hair, make better grades, be more quiet, then maybe daddy would love me and stop hurting me.
I have always thought that the opposite of death is life...but there are many ways to die as well as many ways not to be alive. I rather think now that Hope is the opposite of death.
There is a huge difference between cognitive and emotional understanding. As an adult, I can know something but not be able to emotionally accept it as fact. I can handle waiting until the emotional catches up to the cognitive. As a child there was no way I could do either. Cognitively I KNOW the abuse WAS NOT MY FAULT and that I had NO CONTROL over my fathers actions. These things I know for sure now. But as a child I could not know that without dying. To have acknowledge that I had no control over my life would have stripped away all hope. With no hope that life would improve, I would have died.
Maybe I am slow...and everyone else has already figured out the connection between life and hope and keeping silent. Part of my process now is to emotionally acknowledge and accept the fact that I had no control over my life...and to do it now without dying or losing my mind.
1) I did tell. Not a lot of people, but enough that someone could have responded. When no one responds, a child stops trying. It is more important to hold onto hope than to risk telling and not be taken seriously. More on hope later...
2) There are usually enough normal/good things in a child's life to make reality too confusing. It is crazy-making to hold onto two realities at the same time. A child will want to sort it out...but that isn't possible.
3) My fathers retribution was not worth the risk of telling.
4) The perp's threats are terrifying.
5) Perp's always blame the child.
6) It felt like to me that my father was omnipresent. It felt like he knew everything I did, thought or felt. In order to preserve hope and not die, I "needed" to take the blame for the abuse. If I would bathe more often, comb my hair, make better grades, be more quiet, then maybe daddy would love me and stop hurting me.
I have always thought that the opposite of death is life...but there are many ways to die as well as many ways not to be alive. I rather think now that Hope is the opposite of death.
There is a huge difference between cognitive and emotional understanding. As an adult, I can know something but not be able to emotionally accept it as fact. I can handle waiting until the emotional catches up to the cognitive. As a child there was no way I could do either. Cognitively I KNOW the abuse WAS NOT MY FAULT and that I had NO CONTROL over my fathers actions. These things I know for sure now. But as a child I could not know that without dying. To have acknowledge that I had no control over my life would have stripped away all hope. With no hope that life would improve, I would have died.
Maybe I am slow...and everyone else has already figured out the connection between life and hope and keeping silent. Part of my process now is to emotionally acknowledge and accept the fact that I had no control over my life...and to do it now without dying or losing my mind.
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