It Aint

•December 9, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Pain, confusion, lost…

Head hurts…not quite as much as the heart…

Do you remember where it is anymore…?

Solace in knowing you are safe…

How…?

Pinch myself…

Stumble…

It hurts to breathe…

Oh this is not me…mine…

Hate someone forced me to carry.

Their thoughts, their lies, their misconceptions.

Damage control.

I am not damaged, broken, not needing repair.

That is your view and it is not reality.

It exists in that space between your ears.

And that is created from what is taken in.

This aint me.

Do I fear the return to me…?

Carry this for me

•December 8, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Abuse is like a game of tag…tag your it…snag you got it…

Kind of like cooties when we are a kid….

But a bit more dangerous…

Abuse has no agenda other than to pass off the abuse, so it is carried by you…the victim.

And again and again I am going to use that word. It forces the mind…which has been led down a dark alley, to see what has been enacted upon you.

The greatest accomplishment of abuse is to bring someone along for the ride.

The greatest accomplishment for abuse is to get someone believing this is all deserved.

A belief that you did something to cause this.

A belief that your only purpose in coming into this world was to be utilized for abuse.

And the crazy thing…the absolute nut job of a thought is….

It is accomplished…

And then further victimization comes about by the sugar coating fantasy ride put upon those who speak.

Forgiveness…

Positive thoughts….

Chants…

Forgiveness…..hmmm…the simple thought of forgiveness suggests there is an act to be forgiven for. And there is someone to forgive.

Kind of goes backwards to silencing the victim.

How do I forgive for an event I am being told I am to blame for by either being a child(seductive of course) or that out of control, just are not thankful enough person?

Yeah that one stumps me too.

Yet forgiveness has been thrown at me for a long time…

And not so much from the one doling out the abuse…yet from those who tell me how to Survive…another fun word.

Positive thoughts….another hmmmm…

How can I have positive thoughts when I have been told…

You are a hole….you make me do this to you….you are worthless…how come you so pretty little boy…or oh precious baby girl…

I have heard these as a child…as an adult…and especially when I started speaking…

The only thoughts most victims can gather about themselves are shame, suffering, worthless, stupid, ugly, not good enough, better off dead…

And when that chemical starts running through your body…all sorts of physical manifestations come about…

Things lodged so deep inside…your body just does them…

It takes its cue…

And again…the need for abuse is silence…

Silence the heart.

Silence the brain.

Because if you silence the person…you control them. And you have them spinning in circles trying to figure out how to make themselves acceptable…

And they must focus on all the physical manifestations(which are actually gifts) and can never look at what just happened….

Or why I lean that way.

Why do I react that way.

Why .

I spent time, looking in the mirror, trying to figure out how I could reconfigure my features to be pretty. Because if I was pretty I would not get abused…

That is what abuse tells people…you are ugly.

So the natural next thought is…I am being abused because I am ugly.

I spent time working out my body. Trying to “properly” recover from having children. Because abuse does not happen to people with the perfect figure.

So the natural next thought is…I am being abused because I am not thin enough.

OR

The sick twist in all of that…conditioning….being told you are here to be used sexually..so you do all the tricks of the trade as they say…

You become an object and like magic…you see everyone else as an object.

And when you see one as an object, they have no value…

We live in a world that is replacement ready…

Everyone is replaceable…

You are IRREPLACEABLE.

What is the truth…and what is the lie?

I can tell you which one over 75% of people will pick.

Why do I struggle with this madness?

Because we believe this madness.

Abuse

Silence the being.

Shut off life force.

Delete all previous files. Insert new deviant files. Kind of like a science fiction movie.

Scatter their heart.

Intimidate, threaten, deprive, condition.

Till the human body follows along like a well behaved dog, we smack every once in awhile, just for good measure. To let victim know…we is in control.

And then the game, the course of abuse does not even need our presence about. It just does.

And does…and does…

I sit and write…journal…

And some days its pages upon pages…

Some days its the date…

And the purpose of it…is to kick out the demons…

I must start somewhere..and the most viable entry for me is my brain…

Headaches from an early age…and now headaches manifesting from physical abuse.

Yet it is still my weak point….and I say that with great love.

Because my brain is far from weak…

Yet it holds in it many, many memories…

Dreams of what I hoped for…fantasies of what I think life should have been…I’m smiling as I write this.

And all the words, meant to disable me…and some of them were yesterday…and some 50 years ago.

So I must pause….I must…

And say…how come this hurts, or it hurts to turn my neck, why are my shoulders up around my ears, why do I want to go back under the covers and hide, why do I want pills to make me sleep?

Because I am believing the lie…

I have taken into me…lies.

And it is a well known scenario…

And I must do my work…I must…

I must scream at the top of my lungs that these are lies…

I must fight for me…because what I am is outstanding…

I must declare through my voice…that when I see abuse…I will not cower…I will fight and speak for those inflicted…because in doing so I fight for me…and I send a declaration out there…that life is valuable…and I enable another to lift there eyes towards a different place…which is entirely possible…

And even if I speak..or take a corrective action while my neck crunches, and my eyes are twitching. And I believe no one wants to hear this voice…a lie..

I can after the moment passes…sit…and place my holy hands(because we are all holy beings), upon my jaw and over my eyes…and tell them…

You are allowed to see yourself through truth and your eyes…not through the lies of abuse…and I can tell my neck that it can turn a different way…and feast my eyes upon pretty, smart, brave, loving…

Today…

I can address what was done to me…and what it has done to me…

And maybe, more than likely, when I start to deal with these physical dingy things…

I might be able to acknowledge an act…and person that I can forgive for…

And possibly, more than likely…I can be sweet to myself and say…to me…and it is also said to others…

Iam sorry…I am sorry you hurt…and I know why.

Abuse and Silence

•December 7, 2016 • Leave a Comment

The first and foremost goal of abuse is silence.

Silence of the victim. And when the victim does speak, all are encouraged to beat her/him silly with the threat device.

And some succeed. Note I said some.

But before we go down that road, lets explore how the voice goes silent and is hard to resurrect.

Abuse is like the bacteria that is in our food without our knowledge; with just the right conditions becomes poison.

Same for abuse.

Grooming, shame, fear, authority, position prepare the tray of self loathing one will eventually carry.

Abuse is not simply a voice who causes confusion or a psychological term used now…cognitive dissonance…

It is within our cell structure. It resides in our muscles, our nerves, our breathe, our bones, our hair…every aspect of our physical humanity.

And positive thinking, chanting, do not work. Because they do not deal with the core issues and where they are lodged. It is not my stupid thinking. It is how did I get stupid thinking.

Many, many authors, scientists, psychotherapists have supported it with research and fact. One of the best and most knowledgeable authors is Alice Miller.

If someone would ask me who my favorite author is…I would say Alice Miller. She doesn’t mince words(my personal favorite because I do not either), she debunks thought patterns and philosophies with hard, concrete evidence. And best of all she loves you through it. Because she tells you the truth. She does not tell stories or myths. She speaks from the heart. And that is a rarity these days. Rarity.

And her books go back a number of years. And she stepped into a forum very few will enter. But I am.

Victims, and I use that term in so much love, are fighting a battle without any weapons.

Weapons are knowledge, direction and are better than any quip someone passes your way.

Abuse settles into our body and makes a home. Like termites. It eats away and erodes normal behavior patterns. It replaces normal tissue with confused tissue.

I heard it said…you lean a certain way…

Your eyes flutter open to a way words are said…

You know this, but do not know that…

Cannot explain behavior…

Do not know why you are defending the abuser….

Why you are not attracted to the mathematician reading a book…but go after the drunk insulting you…

Why you just grabbed your kid…

Why you want to cheat on your partner…

Why are you so up and down…

So until one recognizes that abuse is like a plant, placed in a garden within your body and is growing at accelerated rates, with no issues…except your destruction…you are well screwed.

See I was abused as a child. And people say…”why do you say that”?

Well first of all, I did not do anything, so why can I not talk about it?

Secondly, I wanted to know why I leaned that way….

Married an abuser, and dated an abuser…and yes I was miserable each and every time…but I found leaving, using my voice the most difficult thing to do.

Because I had been told, this is what I deserved….

The punches and all did not place it into my body…it was all the other actions done to me, that caused the belief to grow…that caused me to accept this as normal behavior.

It was the compounding of beliefs, used for control that watered it.

because no one is allowed to contradict things like…the Bible….

What would that mean…I am going to hell….?

What would that mean…God is unhappy with me….?

What would all of my thoughts mean?

Oh yes I had been lied to, controlled and attempted to be annihilated just because I could be the voice that spoke up about abuse and said….”it aint me, this is not my fault, and it aint happening anymore”.

People get real scared when they see you getting your voice back….real scared.

People will even sell their children down the line to keep it silent.

In the last month, I have seen some people come unglued…I mean unglued…just because I said “no”.

I have seen people try to smear me….my personal favorite, try to pilfer information from my children… good luck with that…

Try to play the “oh you so sweet” card and when I called them on it…well I became Satan incarnate…

My life has been threatened, I have been told” I do not like you”, good now I got you thinking…

I have gotten the silent treatment,have had attempted rape towards me and I have watched a bunch of misfits protect a man who raped his daughter, care for him when his gut exploded from bacteria pumped in from anal sex, watched the daughter hit her children, and my personal favorite…fix up his house in an attempt to get me back…

I say all of this to let you know…

You better fight for your life…..

You better see how you this has been planted in you.

How you have been led to believe, you deserve this…and have been led to believe everyone is like that.

It is all a lie.

And that is simple…

But the truth.

Speak the truth sometime…on any subject matter…and see who is still there when you share your thoughts…

That be your tribe.

So pause…if any of this resonates with you…

And think how your body feels right now…

Have a headache? Stomach hurt? Want to go and shower? Want to go and scream at someone? Back hurt? Are you antsy? Want to cry?

These are not natural behaviors….our bodies do not just get sick, or in angst.

It has been planted there, fertilized and tended. And it has been allowed to happen by abusers who take precious beliefs and use them to beat you with.

You are meant for much more than being someones servant…and service is something different.

You are meant for much more than being the cause of every difficulty that ever comes about.

You are meant for great respect and grace. Yet it is the hardest thing to ask for when we are beaten if we do not obey, drop our values, believe we are frigid because we do not want to do perversion.

Smiles come about when the voice comes back. Because when the voice comes back, so do we.

And we have to look at this…

We are facing this in epidemic proportions…

Your life, my love, is way too valuable to be smashed under someones boot.

Start…and figure out…why your stomach hurts….

Just start.

 

 

The Settling Fix

•December 7, 2016 • Leave a Comment

About 3 years ago, I settled….

Oh, ooh, my oh my….

What did I settle for…?

Cheating, lies, hate, and absolute confusion….

So why am I telling you this…?

Why am I letting you know this…?

Because it is what I had been told to settle for…

And it removed my voice…and starved all the light out of me…

I was punched, persecuted, lied to, spit on, stolen from and told to be quiet…

Yet there is something about people…

After they get past the hub bub of panic, shame, lies that keep everyone comfortable….

A roar emerges….

And things change from mud puddles to mountain tops…

And the voice can no longer be silenced with a staple gun…and threats…

It speaks in ways that sets terror in the hearts of many…

Acceptance…you liking me…

Fades away downstream with the rest of the garbage you told me I was…

Anticipation awaits…

What will she say now…what comes next…?

You say you do not like me…

GOOD….

Just what I was looking for…

Now try to get my words out of your head…

Try to make me disappear…

I am thinking…

What happens next….

Brambles

•November 15, 2016 • Leave a Comment

The brambles, the thorns are mighty upon this path here recently….

Facing lies and speaking truth…

Hard to swallow when you are being choked….

I gave birth to miracles….

And despite the paths chosen, they are still miracles….

Fingers pointing….someone is to blame…

Only the one who chose the action, the words, the steps….

There is a point when one must step back from all of the show and see what really exists….

From where I sit….

A television drones on…lights flickering in a dimmed room…gin straight…flows like the rivers of the Nile…angry voices run about that mind…and that is where they will stay…

Final acts…curtain calls…all in time…and now is the time…

Smug smiles braced with youth…believing they have their secrets secured….but we all know the truth comes out…and it did…

Disease ruining life…

A healer begins again…

Smiles contain the sadness which permeates like a gentle rain….no more no less…

But it holds so much less voice…less power…

A lifted glance…a tear escapes…a whimsy smile…

And I realize…we do all that we can…all that we should…and I end with this….

There are no Ifs….

•October 19, 2016 • Leave a Comment

In the blessed quiet of the evening…which turns into morning…I cast my eyes to the glowing embers of candles dwindled down and the flickering lights..blinking enchantment from the keyboard.

I stare quietly with no rush or exhale of air at the ceiling…imagining what it will look…as it glances from dawn to full show across the ceiling.

I cannot help but wonder, what this new day will bring me…

What thought will perplex me…what challenge will I step into…what note will this day play…

Hopes of taking this somewhat rested body on a journey…to ease out the stiffness a night with little hours slept will bring…and the decoration of fifty three years echoes within this frame..

Will I prepare…will I stumble..will I hesitate..will I awaken with a purpose…other than making it through another day…

And is that really my thoughts…?

I know briefly…days ago that felt like moments..I did not want to be…wished to cease breathing and feeling within this name…

No desire to end this journey…just encapsulated within that one moment…the desire to not be…not just me…but anything…

I wonder how many others have sat…pen poised to write those words in a journal…or whisper them in the darkened room…feeling aloneness wrap itself around you like a familiar blanket…

Not comforting and not hindering…it just is…

Not loneliness…but knowing the desire to breathe less..exhale even less…the desire to think no more…the need to shut down the many trains stopping at many stations in this brain…the core of my being…attached with unbreakable cords to my heart…beat by beat…

Sometimes I think I must be mad…to be Alice…tumbling down the rabbit hole…or Dorothy…flying through the wind…hoping something was better than the sepia landscape…

Am I mad…have I stepped into the grey zone I have never been able to read…

Or am I negotiating this space like a new novel…finding my different thoughts…and how alone…does not feel lonely…

That I am at sanctuary within self…and seek no longer to explain…I know me…and no one else can define me…and yes they have spent many days and lifetimes seeking to label me…

I never quite match up to their coloring of me…the dress never seems to quite fit…I wonder…hesitate…are they describing themselves…?

In this world that is trying to block me in on a timetable to fit some dynamic…some explanation…I stand on the edge of little known reality…

Lights move outside…just sideways of the curtains…I created…words and pictures surround me…and even though I know I am alone…right in this space…I still cause my hands to tap lighter on the keyboard…so as to not awaken another to my late night musings…

Yet who am I disturbing…no one but me…as I faced a night in bed…shutting down the thoughts running through my head…ceasing to quiet through cups of tea…and piano music meant to lull me into slumber….

Like the drink…to numb and shut one down…always a mystery to me…to vanquish the activities we engage in,,,that bring such dynamics of shame…does drink make it pretty…or go away…perhaps…yet my attention to me…my attention to my thoughts…my attention to this sleepless moment…to engage in beautiful poetry…just so presented through the melodic fingers upon this keyboard…my music…myself as my muse…

My lids grey heavy…as I repeat an action over and over again…which is noted to induce rest upon a body…better than any drug…any drink…any ooh or aah…an especially any like…

I guess the purpose of my prose in this moment is to smile…as drowsiness fills my chest…and I seek my head upon the pillow…filling myself with the knowledge that I am fearless…I do not hide…I do not lie…nor mince words…so one questions what was spoken…

Perhaps it was to say that I did not want to breathe for that time..which in my world said…feeling became too much for that moment…and then it was gone…because I said it and out loud…

My fear comes from never being able to say…this moment is not so splendid…this ah day is far from fun…but to keep it bottled within…and plaster a smile…a like…or perhaps a love….such a misuse of that word…across a page…

And then turn and say…I do not wish to breathe right this moment…because I believeĀ  I cannot survive the second…

And maybe I will not…

But here I sit…early hours of the day…listening to the piano music play like background effect in a movie…in a play…movie…commercial…and realize….

I am still breathing…

I made it through that not wanting…to…another breathe….

Defines….

•October 17, 2016 • Leave a Comment

What more can I ask for…

Be seen…

Be present…

Take notice…

Acknowledge…