Things

"Be thankful for what you have; you'll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don't have, you will never, ever have enough." Oprah Winfrey

Money....I have a problem with it. Not that I spend it crazy. I don't spend it at all. I have this weird belief I'm not supposed to.

Money...things...living on the streets I never had enough...of anything...food, clothes, stuff. Most times I didn't really care. I got so I knew how to get around.....how to get my needs met. I learned to connect with people who gave me things - gave me what I needed - and I learned to do without a lot of stuff.

It's  different now. I have more than enough, but I live like I'm still on the street....not wanting to spend or buy anything - living like I have nothing.

I used to give everything away. If someone liked something I had and asked me for it....even if I really liked it - I gave it to them. I didn't think I deserved to have anything. Other times, I lost stuff....lots of stuff - in that fire - when they incarcerated me - when the rapist kept me trapped in that house for six months.....everything I had - gone. Nothing had value. Nothing meant anything. I had no value. My life meant nothing....

I met this older woman...a survivor of the war. She worked as a cleaning lady and told me she scrapes the plates and eats the leftovers.....she can't waste the food. Living through the war....having nothing affected her deeply. She can't let go of the memories of going to bed hungry - never having enough. I think I'm doing the same thing.

I know how to fight for something - and to hold on to what I have...afraid of loosing it. I try to tell myself it's ok now, but.....


I don't know how to change this. I want to for my kids. I don't want them to take on this fear...the fear of loosing or using 'the things' that's been given. I used to have terrible nightmares of my kids being taken from me...through death or being lost..or someone hurting them. I don't dream that anymore, but I think it's the same thing with money. I've been afraid that everything good or anything that I love will be taken away. 

I'm really thankful for all the things I've been given....mostly - for my family and friends. If I loose them it would hurt too much...but if I loose things...those could be replaced. 

Today I'm going to try....to try to let go of the fear and to trust...

Change

"Something in the wind has learned my name; And it's telling me that things are not the same. In the leaves on the trees and the touch of the breeze, there's a pleasing sense of happiness for me" The Carpenters

Sometimes I feel this overwhelming sense of happiness - a happiness that equals the sadness I used to feel. I don't always know what to do with that feeling. Running helps....so does writing and dancing with my girls.
 
I am really grateful He didn't let me die...And He's given me back so much. When He freed me from the drugs...even though I couldn't stop throwing up and cutting myself, I went back to school. I finished high school....then applied to university and got accepted. I walked around the campus waiting for someone to tell me I didn't belong there...for someone to say I was too stupid and couldn't do the work...and that I had no right to even be at university. 


In spite of all the drugs I did.... and all the times I had been beaten....and had my head bashed against the wall....I got on the dean's honor list. I thought they made a mistake. I thought they got it wrong. I thought they would take it back as soon as they discovered the error. 

I couldn't stand up in front of the class to speak...to do the presentations. I couldn't open my mouth. And I couldn't handle anyone looking at me. No one knew that everyday I was throwing up and cutting myself. No one knew what had happened to me. I detached from everything that happened....I detached enough to study. I learned to present 'normal.'  I had learned that as a kid....when my father pushed his fist in my face threatening to hurt me more if I cried.....I learned to present 'normal' when the rapist humiliated me...when he wouldn't let me go and I learned it from the professionals who told me if I didn't do what they wanted...I would never be released...

But presenting 'normal' isn't being 'normal.' I couldn't let people look in my eyes and I couldn't let them get too close. 


I never knew until I started writing last year....how shame kept me living less than free. No matter what I accomplished...shame wouldn't allow me the real freedom I craved. 


I have learned this past year...I needed to voice those things I never said. I needed to own them. Blogging has helped me so much. It's given me a voice....I can feel the shift inside. I can feel the the shame leaving. And I feel that happiness inside. Today....I want to dance....

Giving Back

"Feel the fear and do it anyways." Susan Jeffers

I need to thank you guys. I got into a horrible slump - doubted everything I was working towards - After I posted, I was totally blown away by your responses. I am humbled by your support, your kindness and your encouragement. Thanks guys. Thank you so much.  I still have doubts...and fears....but I'm going forward. I'm hoping what I wrote...what I lived may make a difference for someone.....I want to make a difference. I want to reach back....I want to give hope to someone feeling like there's no way out. I still remember those feelings and thinking death was the only way to find peace...


I remember some of my friends who didn't survive the streets, the drugs, the pain....some took their own lives....others died accidently.  They didn't see a way out of the fight. They couldn't hold on. Sometimes I wonder why I survived and they didn't.
All I know  -  when He touched me....He made the difference. He didn't let me die.  I weighed less than  90 pounds -  my heart could have stopped; I used to walk on the top ledges of buildings thinking I was invincible. I could have fallen to my death. He didn't let me. Things happened - terrible things - things that taught me to hate....that hatred pushed me to fight back - to strike out.....That hatred became my strength. Many times I lay in the dark - unable to move - my body hurting so bad - feeling weak - desperate for a fix....thinking of ways to end it all....to let go and give in to the darkness. He wouldn't let me.

Arrested for drug possession, my social worker thought it would be easier for me to serve the time on a locked ward of a mental hospital than in prison. Her intentions were good, but I was terrified of the 'crazy' people - strange looking people who paced up and down the dingy hallways muttering to themselves, shaking their fists in the air, carrying on conversations with no one....Others did weird things like one guy who misinterpreted the Bible - 'if your eye offends you...pluck it out.' He did. Alone in his house, he cut his eye out of its socket - then drove himself to the hospital. And some of the staff used their power to humilate and hurt... I learned to hate even more in that place. But I also learned something else - something from the 'crazy' people - they taught me compassion. Their stories were sad. It wasn't their fault they were sick. I learned compassion from them. They taught me not to judge...to be kind....to look beyond the external.....

Courage - I never thought I had any. I thought I was a wimp, a chicken - hiding from the world, not wanting to be seen, running scared.
Courage - I think now I do have some - maybe I always did. Maybe my fighting, my push against those awful things was a sign of courage...I had always thought courage would feel different - strong, confident  - now though, I think you can be scared and not feel very brave and still have courage.

I really do want to make a difference - a difference for others - giving hope and maybe helping people trapped in the darkness find their way out.

He let me live. I want my life to reflect the kindness He gave me... I want Him to use what I lived - I want to give back.....

Doubting

" Trust Yourself." Benjamin Spock

These last few months, I've been really focused - strong - confident - about telling my story. I didn't start writing to put this into book form. It somehow evolved - people started telling me I need to tell...I need to tell what happened. 

I began writing in April '08. I was sitting at the computer wondering what happened to the rapist. Nothing came up when I googled his name, but someone knew him and asked me to call her. She told me things I had forgotten....things I didn't want to hear - didn't want to remember. Then strangely, I connected with the rapist's son....Other things started happening....reminders...people, the suicide of the rapist's son....my sister returning from living overseas, forcing me to listen..I felt sick. I had never told. I wrote. All hours of the day and into the night....I wrote. Everyday I ran alone in the woods, in the hills wanting to run from the memories. It felt like it was happening all over again. There were days I wanted to get in my car, close my eyes and drive. I kept writing. I met this writer. She told me 'start a blog.' I did. The blog became my voice. I wrote for me. I wrote those things I could never say out loud. Then I realized people were reading what I wrote. You guys affirmed me. You believed me. Everytime I hit post, I waited for someone to tell me they didn't believe me. You always did. 


I got stronger....Sometimes I needed to say the same things a few times - I didn't believe the words I wrote. I kept reading and rereading.....I didn't understand at the time, but doing that helped me connect to myself...to what happened. I needed to believe me. And something else...the shame that had lived inside me was starting to leave. I could look people in their eyes. I couldn't do that before.


These last two weeks, a lot of strange things have been happening. I couldn't access the website I started for the book...the publisher called and said the printer broke down - they have to wait for a part...the editor didn't assess the margins right making the words too close to the spine. - Through all of this I've stayed confident. The desire to help, to give back motivated me. 


But tonight - I was going to post something entrirely different and then it hit me, are these signs that I shouldn't go through with this? Doubts are filling my head.  People in my world will know the awfulness of what happened. Someone at work who I respect and who respects me heard about the book and wants to read it. I told him I'm afraid he'll judge me. He said he never will. 


I'm afraid. I hope I'm doing the right thing.

Connections

"The less you open your heart to others, the more your heart suffers."  Deepak Chopra 

I used to hide from people - I didn't want to be seen. I didn't want to be noticed. Constantly being called stupid, worthless, garbage made me feel different.  So I hid - in the drugs, in throwing up, in cutting myself. And I hid by being alone - not letting anyone get close to me...keeping others away - afraid if they got too close they would leave anyways. Their leaving hurt - it hurt too much - so I left and kept leaving. 

I recently watched the movie, "The Proposal." At one point, Sandra Bullock said, 'she had been on her own since the age of 16 and she forgot what it felt like to be part of a family, to have people care, to belong to others, to have someone care enough to give you parts of themselves to carry in your heart.' She also said, 'she learned to be alone and it was better that way.' 

Those words pricked something in me. I've been alone since I was 13 - and before that I wondered the streets late at night...no one caring, no one even knowing I was outside...alone.

I've been on my own fighting to survive....fighting the world - trying to figure things out myself. It's been hard...having nobody there, in your corner, believing in you....wanting the best for you..teaching you tips on how to live...simple everyday things. No one taught me. No one showed me how to do stuff. I lived by my wits and I learned from the professionals who labeled me and street people who were just as broken as me, and from reading and watching movies.

It's hard to not be connected - to not have any family looking out for you - caring about you - teaching you how to live in the world - creating a safe place to fall. 

The past couple of days, a number of people told me they see me as being gentle. They said my girls are incredible - and they think I'm an amazing mom....I felt embarressed listening to them. I love my girls to the moon and back a gizzilion times. I have never wanted them to feel anything I did  - the fear, the shame - the aloneness. 

Many times I feel inadequate being a mom. I've even wondered if I'm good enough to parent my girls in the ways they need...and sometimes I wonder if they'd be better off with someone who was different...who wasn't such a fighter, and who knew more family type stuff. And I don't know if I'm gentle. I still feel like that fighter inside.

Whatever I've become....it's because of Him. He helped me. He gave me that safe place to fall. Not being connected to a family...being on the outside always looking in....not belonging anywhere...made me mad...really angry....But He touched me....Somehow His gentleness made the difference. Because of Him, I didn't want to be angry anymore. 

Connections - For me....it started with Him. Connections - you guys have been the best. In the acknowledgement section of my book, I thank you....You gave me a safe place to fall.....you allowed me to process my stuff right here and to have my voice...You encouraged me....supported me....You listened....you didn't judge....So from the heart of a fighter....I just want to say thank-you.

 

New York

"Being black does not stop you.You can sit out in the world and say, “Well, white people kept me back, and I can’t do this.” Not so.You can have anything you want if you make up your mind and you want it." Clara Mcbride Hale

New York - lights, broadway, shops - people - crowds of them - everywhere.  New York - a city rich in stories....We had the oppurtunity to go this past weekend. The kids were thrilled. I was overwhelmed. Gazzilion people everywhere - excitment like electricity in the air - 


Seeing all those people made me wonder how God can keep track of all of us...And I don't like crowds. I'm also not into shopping - I went for the kids. My oldest had wanted to go for a long time. Two things made the trip worth it for me. ...Visiting Mother Hale House in Harlem. Since my girls were little, I've told them about Mother Clara Hale. This single mother of two took in aids affected and drug addicted babies born to the prostitutes in Harlem. She set up mirrors around her house and would stand the children in front of them and say, 'you see that little black body - that is the most precious, most beautiful gift God created.....' Mother Hale did this when aids was considered like leporsy and she did it without government help. Many of those children who survived went on to university.


On the last evening we strolled down 5th Avenue where the weatlhiest shops are. We came across a woman sitting against a pole amidst the bustling shoppers, begging. I wanted to reach out to her, to make a difference in her world, but my kids were with me and they have no idea what I lived. I did talk with her though - and made her  smile -


Driving home from New York, I thought about Mother Hale and that beggar on the street. I thought about why I decided to tell my story.....If I would have had a copy of my book with me, I would have given it to that young woman - for her to know - her life is valuable, her life is a gift. I wrote my story for her.


I know what's it's like to live as a beggar in the world - taking life's crumbs. I lived believing I had no right to exist, no right to be in the world - accepting what my parents told me - that I was garbage, worthless - letting professionals define me with their labels and the sick perverted people who used me for their own purposes characterize my worthlessness - I never knew I had any worth.  I didn't know He made me a gift - I didn't know I had value and purpose. I spent a long time not knowing, not getting it. I let others define me - but then He touched me. I still don't know how He did it - But somehow He showed me - I had worth - that I had lived in decpetion, trusting in lies.


He let me live - Somehow he kept me - didn't let me die in the darkness. I live with tremendous gratitude. I still struggle in areas, but I'm not where I was. I want my life to give hope, to show truth - to make a difference so others living their lives in deception will come to know the truth about who they really are -

Afraid but Going Forward

"When you were born, you cried. 
Live your life so when you die, others cry." Native Proverb 

My book, In the Eye of Deception, is at the publisher. My words, my thoughts written in the last year - all complied in a book for the world to see. 

These last few weeks, I've been running on confidence - confidence to tell, to share, to be vulnerable  - my way - to show gratitude to Him - gratitude for what He did in my life....

When I close my eyes, I see it all like a movie playing in my head - the people, the sirens, the hospitals, the prison, the streets, fighting - desperate to be free.....shoving needles in my arms - going with anyone - desperate for a fix, a high - aching to be free from the awful lonliness, the crippling shame, the terror....It never let up. - Standing on the window ledge - believing if I jumped I wouldn't die....crouched in the fire....hearing that voice tell me he knew, and I knew so burn baby burn.....Seeing that house...where the rapist held me....climbing that 6 foot high fence in the middle of winter with no shoes, or coat or warm clothes - desperate to be free.....Throwing up day after day - afraid to eat - slashing my arms, biting myself.....my only way to fight the 'professionals' who kept pushing me to be and do what I just couldn't - forcing me to take pills that made me feel like a zombie -tying me to the bed......like an animal......I hated them..I hated me -  Locked up with people who scared me, who set themselves on fire, some who were violent, others talking and screaming to no one or threatening to kill anyone who looked at them the wrong way.... 

I thought I would die in that miserable darkness. I didn't wait for it to kill me - I tried over and over to take my life....He wouldn't let me die.

He had a plan, a purpose. He reached so far down and did what nothing else could. He touched me, freed me......shattered the chains that held me tight.

Last night and this morning it hit me - I'm afraid to be known - to be known for all of who I am. I've shown people only the parts of me I think are ok - Putting a book out there with the details of my life.....all those horrible things - I'm afraid..... I'm afraid but there seems to be somthing that feels stronger than that fear - a desire to give back - to help someone else find hope and freedom. Maybe my life, the darkness I lived - can be a catalyst for someone climbing out of their hell, their misery, their darkness.

My book will be out next week. A writer friend told me to start a webpage. I had it up and running, people from my other blog and facebook were linking to it and then today....I can't access it. No one can. All that work. Maybe it's a techno glitch so if anyone wants to try to check it out.  It still needs work...

www.gentlerecovery.webs.com

 

 

Living Free

"Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told: I'm with you kid, Let's go." 

Maya Angelou

My nine yr. old does everything with passion. She makes everything look so awesome. When she eats - it's with gusto, savoring each bite as if it were her last. When she sleeps, she makes her bed look so cozy that I just want to crawl in beside her. And when she laughs, her face completely lights up and her whole body laughs with her......

She's also my kid who finds $10 bills on the ground in the supermarket, and spots trinkets and treasures no one else notices. Hiking through the woods, she's the one who shouts with glee, don't step on the frogs. Frogs? What frogs? She points. There in the brush - almost invisable  - tiny frogs....

Life through my nine yr. old's eyes is rich, exciting, nothing to be missed, everything to be enjoyed. I love that. I love watching her....I love being a part of her world...of her discoveries....every experience an exciting adventure....

Living life with enthusiasm...living life as if everything is a miracle...a fresh new experience..full of wonder, full of joy.

I've spent most of my life living the opposite - moving cautiously - fearful -trying hard to be invisible - believing I had no right to exist, no right to live - no right to the wonders and thrills life offers. I've tried to live without being seen, or heard.......

My daughter has never been abused, never beaten, never called names, never left alone for hours, never criticized, never shamed.......My nine year old is teaching me how we're supposed to live our lives. Free. Full of joy. Excited.

I want to live like my nine year old - looking at life with fresh eyes - I'm discovering some of that freedom as I 'voice' what happened - all those horrible things - the years spent wondering if death would be better than life....

I survived. I survived for a reason. I survived to tell - I survived to live free - to not be afraid anymore. There are days I feel like my nine year - days when just smelling the earth feels better than anything - or feeling so energized that I need to dance around the house with the girls or belt out songs that my neighbours can hear me singing.....

When I think of where I was, how dark life had been, how empty and painful - and then I think of where I am now - I'm stunned at the transformation - I remember standing on the rooftop ready to jump to my death - or sitting in that fire not even trying to get out - or the many drug overdoses, or being held and raped thinking I would die in that house.....how did I survive?  I don't know. I have no idea - but I did survive.

Somehow He saw worth where I saw none. Somehow He knew.... I want to live like my 9 yr. old. He's given me a 2nd chance - a chance to live my life with passion - to live each day of my life as if it were my last.

Braver than you Think

An older post revisited. 

"Promise me you'll always remember; you're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem and smarter than you think." A.A.Milne - Christopher Robin to Pooh

I remember being really stoned. My eyes had gone all weird and I couldn't focus. I felt off balance, dizzy and separate from myself. Almost like I was on the outside looking in. I was having problems walking. I had no idea where I was, how I got there or how to get out and go home. I remember falling, crashing into a wall and hitting my head. Some old lady popped out and started screaming at me. I had no idea what she was saying. Then the sound of sirens and the ambulance....... Life was a constant crisis. Constant chaos.
I kept saying I wanted it all to stop. I wanted it to be normal. I didn't want to do the drugs. At least that's what I said and even as I said it, I was shooting up and ripping my arms open with razor blades and jagged rocks. Even as I said it, I threw up if I ate even a small bite of something. In my mind, I wasn't allowed to be free. I wasn't worthy. No amount of wanting or needing made a difference. No threats from any authority could bring about the freedom I said I wanted.
I needed to stay high. I needed to hurt myself. I needed to throw up. I needed to not feel or think. Especially to not think. The images of what happened tortured me. Anything to numb out from feeling the terror, the shame, the pain - I needed that more. And then God touched me. He broke through the torment in my head, in my soul - He took away the 14 year drug addiction. The memories though, the pain and shame and feelings of extreme worthlessness - they were still there. I continued to throw up and hurt myself. I still needed to numb out.
I felt guilty. I wondered if God would kill me because I was destroying myself. I screamed at Him to do it already. I dared Him to take my life, but He wouldn't. Years went by. I lived two lives. I looked ok. People thought I was fun, happy, Christian. I wasn't. When people said, God is in control, I knew my life was completely out of control.
I started writing. Then running. In the woods, alone - He whispered to me. 'Face the pain. Don't run from it.' I never wanted to face it. I never wanted to admit it. I couldn't. To admit it meant it happened. I didn't want to believe it happened. But it did.
All I know - God is my strength - my anchor for freedom. The one thing in my life that gives me the courage to do what I otherwise can't. He brought me to the point of being ready to confront what I never could. He allowed me to use the cutting, the throwing up, the hiding to stay alive. Cause that's what it did. It kept me alive. It helped me survive until I was ready to face what happened.
All I know -is in His presence, I feel at peace. In the woods I feel His gentle touch and hear His whispers of comfort and there I gain the courage to come home and not use things that hurt me.
I want to make a difference. I want what I lived to help someone else find their freedom. Maybe that's why God let me live.

Letting go and A Plug for a Friend

"There are two lasting bequests we can give our children.  One is roots.  The other is wings." ~Hodding Carter, Jr.

My 13 year old came home from school and handed me a form. "Can you fill it out, Mom. I want to go on the trip." Trip? What trip? "Next June 2010 - our school is going to........" I looked at the face of my child. Her sweet smile, her innocent face. She wanted to go. Her friends were going. She didn't want to be left out.

The words, of course you can go came out of my mouth, but in my heart I heard another voice, no, don't ask me that. You can't go. Something might happen to you. Something awful. I won't let you go.
I'm afraid - afraid to let her go. She'll be 14 next June. How could I say no. How could I deny her the right to experience her life.

I'm hoping they don't get enough kids and have to cancel - I'm hoping because I'm afraid - afraid of losing her, afraid of what can happen...... Images dance in my head - images of terrible things - I feel the panic - I won't be close enough to help her, to protect her - to keep her safe.

I never want her to feel fear, or experience being trapped like I did. I never want her to look into the eyes of a madman, a rapist, a crazed person and feel terror. I never want her to be held against her will - humiliated -shamed....fighting for her life....fighting to survive.  Everything inside me is praying; My sweet girl - please don't go. I know I'm praying the wrong thing. I need to pray protection over her and I will - but my instincts to protect her, to not let happen to her what happened to me takes over.

I survived horrible things. I know that now. I didn't always know it. I had always believed it was me that caused everything to happen -somehow I had brought it on......something about me made it happen.....
It's been a long fight to find my way back home to myself. I've become strong. Yet if something like what happened to me, happens to one of my girls - I won't be able to live. I won't be able to fight. The thought of them scared, terrified, hurting makes me crazy. I just want to hold onto my daughter and never let her go. But I also don't want to make her afraid of life - I can't transfer my fears onto her -

I am so afraid - afraid of letting her go. I'm trying to remember the opposite of fear is faith. Letting go and trusting God to keep her safe - to bring her home....to not let anything bad happen to her..the trip is almost a year away. For today -for right now - I don't have to think about her going. For today - I have time to learn to let go, to trust, to move from fear of what happened to me - to faith it won't happen to her.


Madison from Addiction -in God We Trust - was getting a lot of Spam because of the word addiciton in the heading. Her writing is amazing, detailing her journey from a parent's perspective. Her new blog is up and running. Check it out or if you are a Madison fan, want to read some awesome stuff from the heart of a parent and didn't know she moved......Here's the link. 
http://fight-of-your-life.blogspot.com/