I love the feel of good old fashioned celebration…I enjoyed being amongst the crowd watching the fireworks and hearing the ooh’s aah’s and cheering. It feels like community and makes me long for the America portrayed in Norman Rockwell paintings.
Tag Archive: recovery
I don’t know what to do… my husband called me again this morning begging me to get him out of the hospital and I have spoken to crisis counsellors, the hospital, different facilities, my insurance and no one can help me… I get the same answer – Only the doctor can release him… I can’t even see him until tomorrow at 5:30….I feel so helpless. I want to go get him and bring him home… I wat to take care of him and I can’t help him. I don’t know what to do and I am so afraid…
I snapped this the other morning and bled the color nearly out of it… hope you enjoy…Today is one of those days I feel like the color is draining from my life… so I thought this photo would be appropriate.
Some days I just don’t know how to keep from being distracted by all the little things… How do I focus on the big picture? How do I block out all the noise and all the things that try for my attention? How do I de-clutter my thoughts? Some days I feel hopeless… just hopeless. I walk around most days feeling pretty ok but days like today life feels like it is crumbling around me. I think sometimes I allow myself to be sucked into the little details so I don’t have to realize how broken and afraid I feel.
This has been an emotional and triumphant week for me. I never imagined that I would be in this particular place. On Wednesday I was asked to be a guest speaker for a small group. I was asked to simply share my story and was told that many of the women attending would benefit from this. I spoke to a group of women (and 2 men) and told them my story. I told them about this life, this pain, this fear and this healing. It was terrifying to speak to strangers so openly…to lay my heart open to them and trust that they would handle it with loving-kindness. The response was over-whelming. I was so moved by their compassion… and so much more… they seemed so genuinely touched by my words… they were moved to share their own stories and we hugged and cried and prayed together. These wonderful people opened their homes, lives and hearts to me and trusted me with their truth. There are no words for how powerful and moving it was. On Sunday we stopped half-way home and visited my aunt and uncle – the first family I have had contact with in over two years. I was able to open up to them and to share my heart with them as well… and they received me without rejection or criticism. After so many years of silence I am finding my voice and I feel like a new woman. I am not saying that I am suddenly healed after years of abuse, fear, anger etc… but I feel a new strength… This week brought so many surprises… so much hope… and for the first time in a long time I feel that my recovery WILL one day be complete. I know life is a journey and I have far yet to go, but I know I will be ok… I am no longer focused on surviving my life… I am finding ways to live my life and to help others do the same.
After years of self-abuse (cutting, drinking, drugs etc) I finally found the strength to cry out for help – that is what has gotten me to where I am today… I could not have made it this far without help and I would not have received help until I got brave enough to ask for it… I nearly waited too late to ask someone to take the knife out of my hand.
I am finally seeing the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel… and though I still have the occasional flash back, it no longer cripples me nor does it define me. My past is a part of what made me the woman I am today but it is not all that I am. I know it does not have to consume me. I have battled my way through terror, pain, frantic desperation and humiliation but I am here. I am alive… possibly for the first time in my life I am not just existing…. I am LIVING.
I am struggling today. I feel lost in my own mind and I fear I may go mad if I do not connect with someone. I need desperately to get outside of my own head. It feels dangerous and crowded in here. I do anything, everything to distract myself, to be ok – but none of it is working today. I had this idea in my mind that I would go out to eat after work and sit and sip a nice coffee while I read and was totally at peace with myself and my surroundings… I would get lost in the moment and allow myself to relax in a public setting. I would dine alone with relish at the space – all the room for my own thoughts and ideas and creative urges… I brought along my journal and was READY. I was prepared for great inspiration and deep connecting to my heart. What I actually did was drive between 3 different restaurants in a fit of indecision for about half an hour before deciding to eat at a place I’ve never heard of just because it was getting late and I was verging on panic. So I parked and went inside. It was quiet, only a hand-full of other diners – that is, until I got there. Apparently the dinner rush came right behind me and the place transformed from a quiet haven to a bustling noisy nerve-jangling room full of voices and smells of food and bodies. Now, I know the place was not as full as my mind was making it out to be – but in my anxiety-filled state of mind it felt like a crowd pressing upon me… so no peace. I ate fast and got out of there. Next I figured I could at least go to the nearest coffee shop and pull up a chair and be politely ignored while I read or journal. I arrived at Starbucks (not exactly what I had in mind but I’m still learning my way around this town) and ordered with confidence and sat at a tall table in the tiny coffee shop. I read a chapter of my book (although, in retrospect, I cannot tell you what I read) and sipped my mocha. I made myself read slowly and to sip my drink with apparent relish… but I was not fooling myself. My heart raced, my palms were sweaty and I was hyper aware of every person in the room and through the corner of my eye kept tabs on the people around me. Will I ever get beyond this need to look over my shoulder? Will I ever not feel his eyes on me? Will I ever stop listening for his footsteps coming up behind me? Will I ever forget the feel of his rough hands, stubbled chin…the smell of his after-shave? Will I ever purge myself of this man? Will I ever be able to stay in the moment without escaping into the nearest distraction? Will I ever feel at home in my own skin again? Will I ever stop feeling like a disappointment, a failure? Will his voice ever leave my ears? What ifs plague me. What if he haunts me my entire life. What if I never get better? What if … what if …
Shaking inside I wake – afraid
and I stare into the darkness
wondering if you lie awake at night
and think about me….
Do you ever wonder if
you could have done better? Or
do you rest easy in your shroud of self-
righteousness and assume you are god?
Here is my heart…. take it
eat it…throw it away… break
it in two… love it… hate it…
just stop refusing to SEE it.
Excerpt from The Courage to Heal pg xxiv ~” Time will dull the pain, but deep healing doesn’t happen uness you consciously choose it”~
John Eldridge says in his book Wild at Heart that “A wound unfelt is a wound unhealed.” So I have to ask myself – how do I feel? How has living with this abuse made me feel…? Following along in the first chapter of Courage I have journaled the following:
How abuse affected my self esteem:
I feel…..
- Bad, dirty, ashamed
- Like there’s something wrong with me
- Like if people really knew me they would leave me
- Like I hate myself
- Immobilized by fear/can’t get motivated
- Unable to protect myself
- Self destructive
I don’t know how to….
- Identify my own needs
- Feel good
- Nurture myself
- Trust myself
- Recognize my own interests/talents/goals (my heart)
I feel like I can’t accomplish what I set out to do
I feel like I can’t move on with my life.
I feel compelled to be perfect
I feel like I am missing large parts of my childhood…
How this abuse has affected my body:
I have a hard time:
- Appreciating and accepting my body
- Feeling at home in my own skin
- Being fully present in my body
- experiencing a full rang of feelings in my body.
- experiencing my body as a unified whole.
I have:
- Hurt myself ~abused my body
- Used alcohol and drugs
- Had an eating disorder
- Had a physical illness connected to my abuse
- Felt as though I sometimes leave my body.
Sometimes I:
- Am not always aware of the messages my body gives me (hunger, fear, tiredness…)
- Mistrust my body
- Feel numb or disconnected from physical sensations
- Startle easily and have a hard time calming down
- Am unable to relax and feel physically safe.
Relating to intimacy – Sometimes I:
- Find it difficult to: trust people, make close friends, create/maintain healthy relationships, give or receive nurturing, be affectionate, say no/set appropriate boundaries.
- I feel I don’t deserve love
- I am afraid of people
- I feel alienated/isolated
- I rarely feel connected to self/others
- I don’t know how to trust
- I feel betrayed and taken advantage of
- I shut down, get nervous, panic when people get too close
- I cling to people I care about
- I expect people to leave me.
It is hard to take an honest look at my life – to survey the damage like I am taking inventory. I don’t exactly know how to feel about all of this…mosty I look over the different aspects of my life and kind of nod to myself and think…”Well this explains a lot.”
Please bear with me dear readers. I am by far not through this journey yet.
Peace be with you.
It feels like a dream … I am walking through a field hoping to find some wild-flowers to make a bouquet… there is mist everywhere and it hangs so heavy I cannot see the ground. As the sun comes out and the mist clears I find that I am not in a meadow at all – but a battle-ground – bodies mutilated all around my feet… every face is my own… The only daisies here are resting on the closed eyes of the dead and my bare feet are wet not with dew but with blood.
captivatingbitter 