A day in the life!

It was ok in therapy today. We did not delve into the past, She wants me to take it slower. I found myself experiencing a lot of anxiety to the point of that scared butterfly feeling in your gut just before you go to give a speech. My face and hands would begin to sweat and I was trembling. It was this feeling that I carried around with me since last weeks session. I just want so desperately to move forward and leave the past behind. Every professional has warned me that I need to go slowly in revealing the trauma but I feel as though it has taken too much of my life already. So much even In my adult life was effected. I do believe now that they are right about going slowly and I respect their professional opinion on the matter. I am in a Seeking Safety group  now. It meets on Thursday at 2:00. It’s a specially designed therapy for those whom have substance abuse and co-occurring PTSD. It has been found out with people who experience trauma that they tend to self medicate to relieve the symptoms. I have done that using dextromathorphan which is a cough suppressant found in most cold medicines. It is in higher concentrate in medicines like coriciden HBP could and cough. On  the street they are referred to as triple cccs or skittles and even just a shortened version of the cough suppressant which is DXM. I am in no way proud of using this substance. I state it only to be honest about myself. I would never condone the use of DXM as it can be very dangerous in high doses which is required to get high. It was never for recreational use. It truly was to self medicate. It helped with the physical pain from the fibromyalgia and the deep depression that can come with PTSD. The group is so supportive and I have not used since May. I am doing very well with it. Perhaps the group is working after all. I do however have to give myself some credit for abstaining. I hope I can continue and stay strong. I AM NOT ALONE!hqdefault


Warm winds courageously whisper through,

blowing open the curtains of time.

Revealing a hideous crime.

Army’s of light march through.

Colors of every hue,

to escort the shame,

and all the hidden pain,

self-blame and disdain.

Love is the gentle breeze,

that flows through the darkness,

revealing a beautiful light.

This light carries with it a kaleidoscope of wonder,

to fill the emptiness inside.

Truly a treasure to behold.

A change for this lonesome soul.

Winding its way through the tunnels of time,

sorting out the truth and the lies.

Revealing treasure along the way.

Thoughts of yesterday blast back through,

and everything gets confused.

Day is struck by night.

Suddenly I am blinded from my own insight.

Why must the night continuously try to conquer the day?

Once again wonderment is lost.

Abuse has paid such a high cost

and of my own life I am not the boss.

Once again it is time to hide.

This cycle of agony speaks to me,

of what was stolen and tossed aside.

The journey is the continued search for wonder,

The answers in the rain.

The reasons for the pain.

The journey is long and exhausting.

The stories told along the way,

are frightening and gray,

But where there is a journey taken,

there is a destination, a revelation,

revealing worth, dignity and hope.

Where there is caring for ones self there is growth.

Like a kaleidoscope life is always changing.

Many different colors,

Many different hues.

Within this wonder there is an important clue.

Yes this life was meant for you.

You have cleared away the sorrow and the pain.

Just look at what you have gained.

The darkness is changing into a kaleidoscope of light.

There is no more return into the night.

This reward is yours, your treasure is insight.

As this process of your life falls into place,

you get a different view,

a vibrant new view,

as colors change from gray to bright.

Shining there illuminating rays of insight,

The beauty of life makes no demands,

as we see ourselves rearrange,

but to just enjoy,

this kaleidoscope of change.


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The Human Voice

The human voice is beautiful. It’s not  just that expressive harmonious sound that echoes forth from our vocal cords but also from the voice that emanates from much deeper inside. It is our inner voice. This special voice connects our thoughts to our hearts.  It gives deeper understanding and meaning to our lives. It helps with appropriate decision-making and impels us to move forward toward useful and lasting goals. The beauty of this special voice shines when we allow ourselves to be real and authentic. In this way we are being truthful and honest about who we are to ourselves and others and understanding our place in this world. We all want to be heard. We want to know that our opinion has a voice. Our voice carries with it our purpose. With our goal in mind we become determined to make others listen to us. We speak out on behalf of our heart or our inner voice.

I have endured decades of my life without voice, decades without being heard or having my ideas or feelings valued. Time marches on and although  I am a women now I carry the un-lived dreams of an infant, a child and a teenager.  All these parts of me have been silenced by fear and shame and exist because of an un-lived life. What happens when our voice is silenced by others? It’s not just being vocal with our physical voice but that voice from within as well. What happens when our very spirit becomes silenced?

There was this unrelenting voice deep within that spoke to me even before all the atrocities of my life were to strike as if in preparation to preserve my soul. It shouted to me in silent utterances, “never give up”.

“Just who am I”, whispered a lost and bewildered little girl? What of this life that frightens me? My earliest guess was that time stretched out in front of me for the sole purpose of others. What has become of my voice? Why was it silenced by those who had no right? There was this saving grace that I experienced though hope for even though a tender mind I thought, “there is always tomorrow”. I’ll just hang on until tomorrow. Perhaps things will change.

Its my hope that this blog will help others whom have gone through the same trauma to gain support and understanding and perhaps maybe even to inspire them to speak out about what happened to them thereby validating themselves as well as bringing  awareness to the horrendous crime of child abuse.


I had a mammogram today. I haven’t had one since 2008. When I was done they had me sit down until they were sure that it came out alright. I waited and waited and waited for her to come out of the room and tell me it was ok and I that I could go. She came out and took my paper work and walk down the hall. Now you could probably guess what went through my mind. I thought that maybe they found something. Then she came back and called the next woman in.. I’m like what the,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, I then asked her before she walked away if everything was ok with mine. She said oh yes,,,,,I’m sorry, She really scared me. Glad that was over. It is really tough sometimes to be a woman.

I have therapy tomorrow morning bright and early. I am worried that she is going to expect me to talk some more about the past. I am really only just beginning to talk about those painful memories. I haven’t even got to the really traumatic stuff yet. I feel at times as though I regress and I am really small when I relate the facts about what happened and not the woman sitting before her therapist. At times I feel embarrassed about it. My therapist told me this can happen when speaking about painful childhood memories. I do feel though as if I am more comfortable to be vulnerable in front of her.



Is wanting childhood back such an empty hope. Is it possible to recapture some of it. If only in my head, I pray that I can get some peace with this idea. Perhaps a sparkle that I can see in a random child’s eye. If I looked upon my own image in a mirror would or could I see that same sparkle in my own eyes someday? Could it be that I have worked hard enough to catch a glimpse of what might have been or who I was as a child. I do still live with the longings of childhood. I wonder if those feelings will ever go away. I want that same childlike wonder and excitement. The energy and wonderment which is a birth right taken away by selfishness.

Of the millions or more children who have suffered child abuse what makes me think that mine has any unique story. We are all different like the snowflakes that fall from the heavens on a cold winter day. Each child has different scars and no scar can look-alike. Just like fingerprints each child experience of abuse is different.  Each child deals with their emotions and memories or events surrounding the abuse differently. Therefore we can never compare one story against another.

If we could gather together every child’s story and shoot it up to the heavens would the sound be loud enough for the whole world to hear. You would think so. People must realize and know that the impact of such horrendous pain on these, our precious children will alter the course of the earth as we know it unless something is done to stop it.