Yup, I Am A Miracle

Yup, there is no doubt about it. I am indeed a miracle.

I have been writing about my experiences with PTSD and now DID/trauma work since I first began having flashbacks, over a dozen years ago. I also have an impressive collection of writings and paintings I did as a kid at the times of each specific abuse incident. Well, many of them anyway. Some days I would just color a page in solid black or red.

I was sexually abused/assaulted/raped/sodomized/gangraped and worse probably about forty-fifty times. The specifics of each of these incidents was as unique as the snow that’s falling from
The sky as I look out the window now.

If you can imagine a horrific thing happening to a kid, it happened to me. If you’ve seen it on a slasher film, it happened to me. Prostitution pornographic bestial BDSM public shame–whatever man. It happened to me.

For some reason I have really gotten into reviewing this stuff lately. In the past I’ve reviewed my writing or taken a look in the Box Of Horrors and have fled into a self-punishing dreamland of flashbacks and panic. Sometimes for weeks.

But just lately I have noticed something very very new. I am somehow able to view the shit from a perspective of thankfulness that I have survived. I can’t imagine it, how that tiny little girl could have gotten thru it all and has lived to tell the tales. Slowly tell them, sometimes in bits and fragments and disjointed sense of time. But telling it all the same.

I think of all of the punishment that little girl’s body endured. It is incomprehensible to me how we all made it through.

I know how we did it, of course. Our brain functions changed In an effort to deal with just too much. We gave birth to hypervigilance and depersonalization and we split into a hundred little fragments. We incorporated introjects and absorbed the toxic shame. We lost years. And on and on and on.

But just now I am in utter awe at my resilience and creativity and sheer toughness. I am like the stories you read about mothers who pick up cars to free their underpinned children. But I carry that strength every second of every single day.

So I might cut myself every once in awhile. I might fail to eat for days. I may beat myself up internally and have rageout days and fail to speak my truths from time to time. I may have days where I can hardly move.

But these are all just part of the process. I don’t know how to heal having never done it before. But I will. I don’t have to do it alone and I don’t have to do it all today.

It’s totally the truth. I am a major miracle. Cool.

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8 Comments

  1. February 24, 2010 at 6:31 pm

    You are so right. You are inspirational and amazing. Your strength and resilience is, in the true sense of the word, awesome.

    Lots of hugs xxx

  2. Ravin said,

    February 24, 2010 at 9:37 pm

    It’s an amazing thing to realize just all you’ve survived. It’s like when you realize you’ve spent a life time on the D-train (dissociating), OMG you actually see it happen or feel that ahhah. It’s like having a vail lifted.

    Good for you!

    Ravin

    • February 24, 2010 at 9:48 pm

      Just the surviving so much..so far. Can’t differentiate where I end and dissociation begins yet. Thanks 😉

  3. me said,

    February 25, 2010 at 12:29 am

    i can’t look at my specifics much at all

    • February 25, 2010 at 6:42 am

      I know, hon. Healing is different for everyone. There is no rule that you have to remember anything, on Amy set timeframe. You have absolute right to your path–don’t let anyone steal you from that. All in time. Naste 😉

      • me said,

        February 25, 2010 at 11:30 am

        perhaps it also has something to do with the fact that you’ve been dealing actively with your stuff for a lot longer than i have. anyway, you’re quite right and thanks mate

      • February 25, 2010 at 12:12 pm

        Just remember luv–wherever you are? It’s okay. 😉


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