It Really Ticks Me Off!

When abuse begins early in childhood, the child's oneness of Spirit is broken. The child no longer has imagination, trust, innocence and it distorts and changes decision making for a life time.

It really ticks me off!~ Our relationships have never worked! Making decisions involve so many different voices, it becomes just about impossible to come to a consensus, and usually, the decision finally decided upon is the wrong one. Nothing seems to work to our advantage....ever! Our main goal in life was to survive. Our path in life was broken, into many pieces. Just as a mirror shatters when battered repeatedly, so did our purpose in life.

If we had not been abused....what would we have been? What accomplishments in life could we have seen? What beneficial changes could we have made in this troubled world? You are most likely thinking.....well you were abused and that is one thing you can not go back and erase. No, we can not change the past. We can move forward, we can heal and mend our broken life. Yes, It really ticks me off, but it is what it is.

We do agree that out of all the bad events, our Poetry emerged and we are grateful!

We are sharing one of our Poems with you. This was written, during a manic phase of writing, author.....unknown.

"LIFE AT THE AGE OF SEVEN"

Hopscotch and jump rope,
Sharing secrets with a best friend.

Nightmares, terror in the night,
Silent screams clutch at the soul.

Popcorn and P.J. parties, giggling,
Knowing the true joy in life.

Incredible sadness, being alone,
So confused about what is real.

Reaching out with trust,
Being touched and feeling love.

Deep hate brings trembling,
It swells, pressure from within.

Creative, aware of one's uniqueness,
A tiny bud, impatient to bloom.

Loss of imagination, a world
Of make believe.

Old before one's time,
No longer innocent.

Happiness, excitement, joy, anticipation,
A love of life...contentment.

Death, pain, betrayal, fear, no feelings,
Blank, away and numb.

Hope, choices, laughter, self-love,
Feeling free and owning spirit.

A lost soul, hopeless and trapped,
A child no more....alone in the rain.

"Us"~~~~~


"The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body and although we repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated. our perceptions confused and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth".

"Agoraphobia" - Living in a Fish Bowl

Definition: The word agoraphobia is derived from Greek words literally meaning "fear of the marketplace." The term is used to describe an irrational and often disabling fear of being out in public.

Agoraphobia is best understood as an adverse behavioral outcome of repeated panic attacks and subsequent anxiety and preoccupation with these attacks that leads to an avoidance of situations where a panic attack could occur.

Strange, now that I look back, I remember my first personal "meeting" with Agoraphobia. I was in grade school. Being a Catholic, required leaving school every Thursday afternoon and attending Catechism. On one of these afternoons, the girl, standing beside me, fainted. In my child's mind, I thought she was dead. In complete terror, I ran from the Church, directly to the "Haunted House". Rationally, I knew I would not find comfort or understanding there, but I had no were else to go.

From that point on, lasting for several months, it was a fight every Sunday. I refused to go to Church. I was punished repeatedly. The beatings, the screaming and yelling did nothing to calm my extreme fear! "What was I afraid of", "Did I realize God would send me directly to Hell", "You are nothing but a stupid brat" were the ways in which my family dealt with my all consuming fear. I dealt with my fear in a completely different way....I dissociated. I blocked out the rantings, the beatings, all I wanted and needed was understanding and comfort. Someone to tell me what I was experiencing was okay, that it would pass.

Today, I leave my home only when absolutely necessary. I see my Doc once a week. I run errands only when my Husband can not. I do not visit friends. I do not socialize. I stay hidden away in my home. I dread the Spring and Summer that is eminent. There will be yard work and summer get togethers with friends. My Grandson's baseball games. The fear that I experienced long ago, engulfs my very soul, just thinking about all of these things, which require leaving my home. I don't want this. I want to be outgoing and create new memories with my family and friends. I don't want to live in a Fish Bowl the rest of my life!

The Doc and all of "us" are working on this in my sessions. I pray we find the answer, and a solution, that will allow me, once again, to enjoy life, family and friends.

Rainbow~~~

Pray for the many trapped in their lives by this disabling phobia!


"The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body and although we repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated. our perceptions confused and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth".

"Dancing in the Rain"

I have always loved the Rain.

Mother told me I had my days and nights confused as a baby, and she took me for a walk when I was impossibly fussy, even in the Rain. Perhaps my love for Rain began then.

As a child, I had no friends. I had school mates, and we played at school. But no one ever came to the "Haunted House" to play. There were so many secrets, and chaos ruled the "House".

My few memories are of loneliness, fear, a sense of betrayal and feelings of sadness. I had no imagination. As I look back at that time, I believe I stayed in a dissociative state much of the time.

When it rained, I lay on the top back of the sofa, looking out the window, watching and waiting, for what, I do not know. The rain soothed me. The rain held me in it's arms and I felt safe. Rain became my true reality.

Sarah~~~

Dance in the Rain!

"The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body and although we repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated. our perceptions confused and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth".

"Rainbows"

Rainbows appear during the rain
Just like I do, during the pain.
Rainbows change a dreary day
Just like I try to make the bad things go away.
Sometimes Rainbows are ignored and not seen
Just as I am.


M~

"The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body and although we repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated. our perceptions confused and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth".

Another Small Step to Understanding "US"

I have a rather large, framed professional, photograph, of my Sister and me, ages 3 years and 4 years old. On an impulse, or perhaps it was my "gut" feeling compelling me to do so, I took the photograph to therapy with me today.



One can tell so much from a photograph, or so I learned from my Dr. today. After looking at the photograph for several long minutes, Doc (borrowing nickname from Susannah) asked me what I "felt" when I looked at the picture. I told him I honestly had no "feeling" about it. I explained that I felt no connection to either of the little girls in the picture. He asked..."no connection to this picture of you?"....I answered no, I don't feel any connection. I then proceeded to tell him that I saw something in the eyes of the oldest child...which would be me. Doc said "so do I". He asked me to tell him what I saw. He said he was curious to know if I was seeing what he saw.



The eyes of the oldest...me...appear sad, frightened and without the innocence you would expect to see in a child so young. The eyes appear to be in a deep abyss of pain. There is just too much fear hidden in those eyes. My Sister is smiling in the picture and appears to be a happy 3 year old. When I relayed this to Doc, he said "that is exactly what I see".

Doc told me, if he took his Psychologist "hat" off, he would see two pretty little girls, one smiling (my Sister) and one not smiling (me). He went on to explain, that in his professional opinion, my Ego had already "splintered" and the child we are seeing in the picture, is one of the "others". It was frightening to hear....but still allowed me no connection to the little girl in the picture. No one "inside" was talking...for once. No one stepped forward to "claim" the identity of the girl in the picture.

The age of the little girl, fits with the final separation of "the parents". The "Mother" had taken on her role of physical abuser. The "Dad" was seeing us at visitation on Sundays. Taking all of this into consideration, my conclusion is this. The little girl was suffering physical abuse and neglect at the "Haunted House", and sexual abuse, during the visits to the "Dad". But...who is she? What is her name? SHE must be the identity holding the memories, painted in black, which I need so desperately to continue on my Journey of Revelation and oneness of Spirit.

Next week, during our session, Doc and I will color and draw pictures. Art Therapy is an excellent way to express one's self without words. I pray it works. Stay tuned to the "Haunted House"....................


"Hug a Child today"

"The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body and although we repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated. our perceptions confused and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth".

GOD Lives - Emma Grace

GOD lives, in "all" of us.

I began praying to die when I was very young. I wanted no time on this Earth to allow sins to blacken my Soul. I tried to be a good girl, always. I learned all the prayers.....in fact I prayed all the time. All I wanted was to be with GOD. HE did not take me back to Heaven. HE must have his reasons.

Now I live with a sinner. Susannah.......oh she exasperates me! I pray for her Soul. I live with Anger, a very loud mean person. I live with Rage, a vulgar, terrifying entity. I wanted to go into the Convent and become a Nun. Mother laughed at me, with that particular haughtiness of her's. I pray for her Soul. The Guardian tells me to let these people be. They have a need to express themselves, the only way they know how. That I must be patient, things will work out for "us". When the Guardian speaks, you listen. His voice is compelling and his is very wise. He has protected "us". I am grateful to him.

God grant us the serenity to accept the things we can not change,

The Courage to change the things we can.

And the Wisdom to know the difference.

Yours in Christ,

Emma Grace +

"The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body and although we repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated. our perceptions confused and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth".

From Darkness to Light!

Being a patient in a Psychiatric Hospital for three months has it's good side and not so good side.

Not so good side - well you become attached to the people you see every day. The Medical Staff, the Group Therapists, but most of all the other patients. After living each day, spending each evening with people who have spilled their life story and have listened to your life story, it is extremely difficult to let them go. They become your family.....no better than your family, they love you and you can feel that love. I still miss them. I still pray for them and always will. They were there for me and they helped to bring me into the Light.

The good side.....my in-patient stay literally saved my life! That may sound a bit "over the edge", but it is completely true. Without the knowledge and life skills I learned there, I know in my heart, I would not be here today. I would have committed suicide.

As soon as you are admitted the Nurse takes your picture. Now there is another reason for this, other than for ID purposes....but I will tell you the additional reason at the end of tonight's writing. Then you are shown to your room. There are two people to a room. I lucked out and my room mate was a wonderful, jolly woman.

The schedule every day is as follows: Up at 7 AM. Breakfast at 7:30 AM. First Group at 8 AM. Now the Groups are intense. Let me see how many different groups I can remember....you don't have each one every day. The group you do have every day begins in the Gym. Everyone sits in a circle, presided over by a Mental Health Tech. This Group is called "Feelings Check". One by one around the circle each person gives one "feeling", relating to how they are feeling that morning. I must stop here to tell you Fear and Fine are NOT feelings, per the Psychiatric Community. Fear is defined as either "Face Everything and Recover" or "Fuck Everything and Run". Fine is "Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional". If you do not feel like sharing, you just say pass or check. You can not even imagine how difficult it was for me to come up with a feeling, those first few weeks of my stay! It wasn't that I didn't know the definition of the feelings, I just could not connect myself to a feeling....... Additional Groups were Cognitive Therapy, Loving Confrontation, Learning to Trust, Art Therapy, Relaxation Techniques, Visualization, Family Role Playing, Gym, Connecting to Your Higher Power, Connecting with Your Inner Child...oh there were just so many. There were also specialized Groups such as Eating Disorders, Survivors of Sexual and/or Physical Abuse, well you get my drift.

I loved all the groups and learned so much! I learned it was OK to say NO! I learned to climb a 20 foot wall! I learned to walk on two wires, strung between two telephone poles, I learned to jump from the 20 foot wall to a trapeze! I learned to Trust. I didn't do these things alone....my "family" helped me, and lovingly pushed me all the way.

One little story...then it's off to bed for me.
I have always felt intuitive, or psychic or whatever you might want to call it. As an example, when living in Texas I would "know" when there was something wrong at home.....and 9 times out of 10 I would right. Often, a person, whom I had not seen in many years, would suddenly flit into my mind and I would wonder how they were, where they might be. Then within weeks, sometimes months, I would run into this person...it was bizarre! I learned, as a patient, to always trust that "gut" feeling inside. One night, late at night, I was sitting in the lounge writing in my journal, and a guy walked in. I had never seen him before. I saw that he was wearing the creepy hospital bracelet on his wrist, so I knew he must be a new "admit"....or is commit...lol. I got this "feeling" about him.....he scared me and the hairs on my neck actually tingled! I wrapped my journal up and got out of there as quickly as I could. The next day, in one of the groups, I had to hold his hand. OMG! It was terrifying, horrible and I felt this huge rush of disgust. Now I am a very compassionate woman. Feeling this way about him did not feel Good to me. I scolded myself for it. That evening when I met with my own Therapist, I related the story and my feelings to her. She looked at me and said "Sueann, this patient may be a gift to you, and you may have something he needs desperately". I thought...oh yeah, easy for you to say, you aren't feeling what I am, you don't have to hold his hand in Group. To make a long story short, this guy did not share anything about himself for two weeks. It was maddening, it made him even more frightening to me. So in Loving Confrontation Group, I asked him if he wanted to share his story with the Group. He said no. I went nuts! I started yelling at him, asking him why he was there if he wasn't going to talk, telling him how much he disgusted me...I was completely out of control......and I had no earthly idea why I was acting this way. After the Tech calmed me down, this man, who had been silent for so long began to tell his story. He was forced to be here, because he had been arrested for child abuse...oh wait there is more....he had been accused of raping his 4 year old Daughter! He claimed he had no memory of doing this act, that he loved his Daughter and would never hurt her. So there you have it. His gift to me......he spoke the words, he shared his story and it hit home like a tornado. My gift to him, well, he later admitted he had raped his Daughter...he confessed...and was now ready to begin his Journey to Recovery.

BTW...the second reason the Nurse takes your picture upon admittance, is to compare it to the picture she takes of you the day you leave. In my case, the pictures looked like two different people. The one taken of me on the day I arrived looked like a very old defeated skinny, raggedy old woman. The picture of me on the day I left was of a happy, strong, determined woman. The Nut House ain't so bad............................

Thanks for visiting the "Haunted House"!

"The truth about our childhood is stored up in our body and although we repress it, we can never alter it. Our intellect can be deceived, our feelings manipulated. our perceptions confused and our body tricked with medication. But someday the body will present its bill, for it is as incorruptible as a child who, still whole in spirit, will accept no compromises or excuses, and it will not stop tormenting us until we stop evading the truth".