1 a.m.

Sunday night, or shall I say Monday morning. Either way I can't sleep. I have class tomorrow at 6pm, and a 5 page paper due. Have I started it yet? Of course not. My goal was to write it tonight. I'm exhausted so I opted for sleep instead. aaaaaaand sleep won't come. So, I'm blogging instead.
Well, school is going great so far. I'm loving it! I feel like I am right in my element with a bunch of other students all going to school to be counselors. I've made some friends there, but can't wait to get to know my fellow students better. Living in this small town not knowing anyone is getting awfully lonesome. I have made a couple of friends, but as friendships take time to grow, only time will tell whether they will be close friends or not. I tend to have a plethora of friends, but only a small circle of great friends. Ah hell, I have nothing else to say. I'm off to start writing a paper I guess!

What You Have Done To Me

I can go 3 or 4 years at a time without a single date. Dating washes up so many fears as a result of my past, that it hardly seems worth it.
My daughter begs me to go to the pool with her and I cringe. I can't stand the thought of men looking at me in a swimsuit. It feels dirty because it's the way you used to look at me as well.
If a man makes a sexual comment towards me in many settings I freeze, terrified, and feel unable to tell him to stop. It's as if I feel that I have to take it.
I'm afraid that if a man really gets to know me he's not going to like me; as if I won't measure up. Perhaps this is because nothing I did was ever good enough to earn your love.
Trusting others is an immense struggle.
For this I can thank you: When I see others being subjected to injustice and cruelty I want to stand tall and firm and be a voice/support for them.
Sometimes the weight of my past wounds that are still so fresh from a lack of healing weighs so heavy on me I can hardly get myself to push through the day.
If I raise my voice at my children in anger I feel so guilt ridden and full of self-contempt that the rest of my day seems to sour. I hate thinking I might be anything like you.
Even sex, something that God has created as a beautiful and sacred experience for a husband and wife, has little allure for me as I see myself as tainted by you.
Male friends will make jokes and I often fear their intent/meaning, and all I can do is cringe and hope they have no sexual thoughts or ideas driving their words.
I fear that I am unlovable.
I am a woman now though; no longer a child. I cannot change the past I have endured. I cannot blame you as I walk into my future. I can only pray for healing. I can inspire the change I wish to see in myself. You will no longer have any power over me. I will continually ask God to heal these open wounds and return to me the innocence that was stolen. This will be my new daily prayer.

This Week

Most of us have heard the expression, I feel like I have been "put through the wringer." Most of us have probably even felt that way a time or two. After this week I am truly feeling the weight of that expression. I have been boldly honest, terrified, stone-faced, and shaken by uncontrollable sobbing. I have talked and talked and talked to person after person until the sound of my own voice makes me want to scream. I have sat in silence. Someone told me today that I am raw from all of the sharing and admitting. Tonight I saw that. Even a simple film that I know so well from my childhood days held scenes of hateful people griping at others and I found myself cringing. Perhaps raw is an understatement. I have felt utterly stripped of defenses and energy. I have stood tall in encouragement, and I have crumpled under the weight of words.
Right now I welcome the sound of the wind blowing the nearby trees. I close my eyes and relish the sound of the neighbor's wind chimes; the lack of voices. If I didn't fear all the dog piles people neglect to pick up behind my apartment, and the knowledge that complete exhaustion would set in and I would fall asleep, I would spread a blanket under the stars tonight, stare up at the heavens, and just pray. I don't even know that complete thoughts or words would come, but I do believe the Holy Spirit would carry my internal groaning right up to God's outstretched hands. There I visualize Him cupping his hands, drawing them to His ears, and listening as He understands every ounce of my pain. I imagine, if you will, a man's face that if He were to turn and look at me I would see echoing in His eyes the depths of all the heaviness my soul feels. Then I imagine those arms stretching out towards me as I close my eyes, and let go. I don't feel myself falling though, because I have been caught in a tender embrace. In that moment I am aware that any shame I have carried is for naught. All that shame has been a knife I have held to my own wrists. Gently He tells me to put it away. Gently He whispers, "Why?" I try to look away as a thought escapes my body, "I deserve this." He ever so softly turns my face back to His and says nothing out loud, but shakes His head as His eyes tell me, "No." I look into those eyes and see what I have always wanted to see. Yet, it's still hard for me to see it, to believe it. I see understanding, I see unconditional love, I see acceptance, I see tenderness, and I see compassion. I see a Father whose image has always been like one from a fairy tale. I see truth. I know sometimes I run from the truth, but tonight, I will sleep in its arms.

A Walk Back Through Time

When I decided to write this blog, I also decided to use psuedonyms for all parties. I had a reason for this. The biggest reason has really surfaced lately though. I have thought often about writing a memoir. Then I have thought; I'll have to wait until my father dies because people are not aware of the truths I know about him. Just this week all of that thinking has come full circle. He proposed to the woman he has been dating for the last 8 months. I snapped. A flood of memories began to wash over me, and I was blown over by the power of the past. I began to feel sick that I had let things go on this long. I came forward. I shared many wretched details of my childhood with her. I told her that I cannot stand to see history repeat itself all because I have been silent. I switch between feelings of terror because of what I have admitted, and feelings of liberation because I feel that I have cut many of the disturbing ties that have binded me.
I have confronted my perpetrator and told him that he no longer has power over me. I have also opened a flood-gate of memories. It has taken much counseling for me to admit that I was sexually abused growing up. The physical, verbal, and emotional abuses where much easier to label. I have finally given voice to the young girl inside of me that has been dying to be free for far too long.
I have done the right thing, and yet I have to keep reminding myself of that. Our family stands divided, some agreeing with my decision, and others claiming they will never speak to me again for dragging up the past. What they do not see is that it has never really been my past. It has been a present hell to me. It has been a daily battle with myself, my heart, and my world. I have felt dirty, tainted, ashamed, undeserving of love, and unable to say no to many new experiences of abuse. As always, I really don't know what the future holds, but I know that I am still trekking down a long road of recovery. Our journeys of healing are never without pain, but I know they are the key to a healthy future. Healthy. Ah, and to think that my children might truly understand what that word means.

Father

Father
That word echoes with emptiness in my heart
Any trace of you left in me
Tonight I will it away
I see myself today
Full of insecurities
Afraid to be true to me
Because I was never allowed to
I see your face when lips that want to speak
Freeze and say nothing
Just silence
Inside lives a little girl
She thrashes about
Smashing walls
Screaming
Punching the air
Crying
Holding her chest as if the very act might keep her heart alive
And yet here I am
On the outside
The one everyone sees
Clever trick
This game you have made of life
We protect your secrets
You show us love
What if I don't want to play anymore?
Why have I protected you?
Why have I played along?
I don't want to keep your secrets
I don't even want the memories
I'd like to give them back as well
But I can't
So here they stay
Etched in my memory
Lingering like ghosts
While you march forward
Like a beautiful new beginning is on the horizon
Where is my new beginning?
Where is my horizon?
I face the journey of pain back through time
and you just waltz right into the future?
I haven't decided yet if I will ever speak to you again
I'm not pushing myself to make a decision either
No more games
Just life
My new life
I'm not sure you fit in it anymore
I've been asking myself for awhile now if you ever did
Where is my apology?
Keep your pretense
Carry it with you in your new life if you want
I can't pretend anymore
My soul has grown too weary from the pressure
I'm going to dust myself off now
I'm standing
To walk my own way

Lessons

My world has stopped turning
While my mind goes round and round
The world around me stands still
I want to be alone
But when I am my thoughts are too deafening
So I turn up the music
I turn on the TV
The hands on the clock tick by
Tick, tock
Tick, tock
I finally have a chance to rest
But rest will not come
Tick, tock
Tick, tock
Have you ever willed your body to move
and yet it will not listen?
Have you ever contemplated your to do list
and yet left it untouched?
Perhaps it's the heart in times like these
telling you to stop and allow healing to begin
Lessons
They rarely come easily or swiftly