Flashback Grows Up

Weirdest thing happened to me last night. Usually Xmas is a very rough time for me, stuffed with flashbacks and nightmares. Tgis year it’s been going swimmingly–none of that stuff until last night.

It was one of those dreams that go on forever, i hate that. Anyway, this dream started out like it has pretty much my whole life, chock full of incidents in which i am being sexually abused in one form or another…

And then, suddenlt, i was an adult. The other kids in the dream, various cousins who had witnessed these events over the years, were all adults as well. And Uncle Norman was both dead and in the room at the same time.

I was saying why doesn’t anybody get that this was wrong? My cousin Nornmie says it happened to all of us. I say it’s still not right and he shrugs his shoulders, says yah well it’s Christmas, look at the pretty tree.

It goes on like this forever. I, the adult me, says why isn’t anybody getting how wrong this was? Indifference in response.

Here’s how I am going to interpret this dream: I am an adult. Nothing is happening to me anymore, even though it’s Christmas Eve. I am safe now. My main concern is that nobody gets it, how horrid was the whole shebang.

Was. Past tense. I keep asking until I finally say well enougg from u people. It’s still wrong.

And then i wake up. It’s a big step I think, changing preoccupation in my sleeping mind from what happened to what is wrong with u folks that u won’t see it’s vileness. Deciding that it doesn’t matter if they get it or not. Still was wrong.

So yeah. Flashbacks do grow up. Cool.


Dancing Candle, Dancing Mind

I’m sitting here in meditation, staring at a candle flame, trying to just be within each moment. Just sitting there, watching this little flame.

It’s an unusual candlelight, this one. Although there are no drafts or fans or otherwise air movement about, this little flame is dancing about like crazy. Up and down amd left and right. Nearly sputtering out then bursting forth ablaze again.

As I sit here I realize that this little candlelight is doing exactly what my mind is doing just now. Nearly going out into dissociated haze. Jumping alight with this slim thread of what feels like peace that I’ve been chasing all day. Dancing left dancing right. Am i under threat or not? Do I cut my losses and run, to never see my therapist again? Or to go in tomorrow after a three-week absence and spill my guts about how much I have been struggling and how even though i know it’s only a case of the transference bug I still have the feeling that she will be going away from me soon?

Up down left right dance Splinty dance.

And then as I sit here I realize that despite the wild machinations and meanderings that this little flame is going through…..it remains lit. There is a commitment to itself, as if to say hey I may be a crazy little flame and I may be all over the place, but I am still giving off light and color and warmth. I’m still here.

And so it is with me. Banged up as i may be, as anxious as I seem to need myself to be, I’m still here.

So I will be jumpy and twitchy and be unable to keep still–yes. But I made it. I know that this show is just the drama queens’ (the Teenagers’) way of saying we don’t like this this is just like all the rest. But it’s not.

It’s 2010. I am a grown woman. I have chosen to remain here. I may be dinged and the Voices may be screaming but my light’s still on.

Now the only remaining question is what do I do with the next 25 hours. Really–ya gotta laugh.

Dancing Candle, Dancing Mind

I am humbled and feel tremendous gratitude toward the courage, compassion and wisdom in the submissions posted for this month’s Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse. I know well how much guts it takes to put out our stories and the work involved in helpful steps we can take in order to gain and regain our lives. Thanks so much to all of you for sharing your stories, your wisdom, and your artwork. Ok, I’ll stop my ramblings now–on to the good stuff!


I’m starting with the artsy stuff first because, well, I’m an artsy person.

Susan Kingsely-Smith gives us a work of great beauty. She says: There is hope there is Light. The Road to Freedom from the Past is full of potholes and yet there is hope TITLE How do I? I will

RIck Belden tells us of the pain in nogt being validated when we told. Heartbreaking TITLE scapegoat’s cross


Amanda Kobeshimi submits some beautiful photos that accompany a description of a survivor with a compelling tale of life with DID TITLE Season’s Greetings from the Demon World


Always a popular topic, especially so during the holiday season, when so many of us struggle.

Laura aka Simply Green tells us how to use compassion to help your abused child TITLE Compassionate Parenting: Meeting Needs

One of my favorite writers, Darlene Ouimet, gives us a blog from Emerging From Broken on the beginning of her emotional healing. She tells it like the process thru healing was for her. I identify with and learn so much from her–if you don’t follow her you really should. TITLE The Beginning of Emotional Recovery :: Emerging From Broken

Pandora, a dear friend, says: This is a discussion about a therapy session in which an alter of mine came out, bringing with her all the hideous and abject horror of her experiences of systemic child sexual abuse. TITLE Child Minder – Paul:Week Four

Paul from Mind Parts says “here are some thoughts on what are the essential tools to healing from dissociation and trauma” TITLE Cultivating Skills

Darlene Ouimet shares one of my favorite blogposts as well. It’s a hot-button topic and one that puts me up on a soapbox quite often, too. TITLE Forgive The Abusers? A bit of a Rant :: Emerging from Broken


From Tracie fills us in on Awareness of new and obtrusive TSA procedures, a very hot topic for this busy holiday season TITLE Vacation Choice: Naked Pictures or Federally Mandated Molestation

The wise Patricia Singleton asks: “Are you aware of who you are because of your struggles in spite of your struggles? Now THAT is a good question! Read what she has to say TITLE A Short Biography – Who Am I?

Joanaa Tiger talks about the senselessness of violence giving us ten instances wherein warning signs could have been acted on to avert horrid crimes TITLE Criminal Justice Degrees Guide


VoicesUnsilenced is a very powerful writer of the aftermath of child abuse. She tells her story with courage and fortitude in the face of trauma. Here’s what she has to say TITLE won

Nesher gives a great informational piece on the aftermath of trauma. TITLE Childhood Abuse and Clinical Depression in Adults


My bud Hope For Trauma talks about the stress of the holiday season on her alters. I put this piece in this section because her words echo throughout the year. TITLE 5k’s & Turkey Burgers

From Tracie says “This is a great project for survivors to participate in.” It’s yet another way to speak out, tell your story, and obliterate the silence” TITLE My Name Is Project

Patrticia Singleton talks about choosing a position of gratitude throughout the year, not only during the holidays. Strong piece! TITLE Thanks Giving

Tim Fischer gives us a compelling survivor story. Spend a few moments with his powerful images and notice what your mind thinks about it TITLE The Ghost of Halloween Past

My dear DragonHeartSong takes a courageous look at multiples and their struggles TITLE The holidays approach – good news; bad news


Paul at MindParts gives some thoughts on the recent Oprah Winfrey show with 200 men who have survived child abuse. Interesting TITLE Why I Did Not Appreciate Oprah’s “200 Men” Show

Steven and Debra give us a fabulous poem on recent changes at the TSA. Read this twice. TITLE Opt-out to the Beltway TSA and Their Airline CEO Cronies: Take Your Planes and Shove ‘Em


Patricia Singleton says sometimes shutting down is all that you can do to get through the Holidays. Hear hear. TITLE Shutting Down To Get Through The Holidays

My buddy Sharon Sanquist gives us some survival tips on how to deal with moment-to-moment stressors and triggers during this challenging time for so many of us. She’s a great writer and has a way of bringing clarity to just about any confusing issue. Go down to Comments to read her valuable help!

Lisa Kift the ever-wise creator of the Relationship Toolkit also gives us some survival tips. If you haven’t been to her website–do so today. Skip down to the comments section to see what she has to say. If you’ve not been to Lisa’s Toolkit on her website — you need to go!

My good buddy Ravin has been through so much in her life. She has more compassion in her soul than any ten people I know. Read her story of what the Holidays are for her in the Comments section below. I prize her life and so should you!

I personally did not write a blog for dealing with the holidays because I lost track a day or two before Thanksgiving. Meaning I just faded away. Apparently some of the littles were out and about, why I do not know. Since I have been seeing the Mighty C, I’ve been co-conscious. My personal history is that Christmas Eves I was brutalized more than any other time of the year. So–I lost a few days. Could be worse, could be raining. I get used to it as the weeks pass, but it’s always a bumpy ride at the beginning of the season. My wife is great, she knows it’s a tough time for me. We always end up doing all the fun stuff that’s plentiful here. And it ends up being a good time as I get involved as an adult. But it’s a rough go for awhile.

Again, thanks so much to contributors here. It has been an amazing opportunity for me to be allowed the privilege to read and consider their strength, wisdom, and compassion. Happy Holidays where you can get them! And remember–it’ll be over soon 😉

Protected: Purpose of This Lifetime

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I seem to be floating in space. Should be running today but a nagging little thing in my right calf says no. Wife left early thisorning for five days to San Jose. Which is a nice little rest.

I seem to have picked up a bottle of dark tequila on my way home from The Client Who Never Listens.

I feel fine, maybe a tad confused how it can possibly be 2:00 already. I seem to have gone away from 11:30 ’til now.

I don’t know what the deal is but I just really need to get Away today. The teenagers of course are delighted, but me not so much. I have a bad relationship with alcohol and generally just stay away from it.

I think it might be the strain of keeping this huge FUBAR self-discovery under my hat until I see C and she can help me deal with it. Little things that I know perfectly well how to handle are piling up. Mention of something that takes me back to about age eight, a bad bad bad year. A couple of other very minor things.

I don’t even want to get drunk, this is the thing. I am not in a panic or anxious in the least, just a bit frazzled. My coping skills seem to be rather far away, altho’ I am smoking on the piano. Pink Floyd is a godsend today.

I should be opening my painting season. It is always my best coping thing to do ( other than running). I have a brilliant 2-panel thing in my mind, but I just can’t seem to get there from here. In my pj’s already.

I need a plan.

Fear of Dying

So I’m in therapy yesterday, talking about whatever, and a lightningbolt hits me. I stopped talking to figure out what this flash really was about. Staring at C’s air conditioner until she calls me back. I hold up my hand she says wow are u thinking about something again or did u just totally shut me put?

No, this just came to me. I say when little kids have their lives physically threatened, they think they’re gonna die any second a few times…..yes???…..they stop making an investment in their life. C says any kids in particular???? Hahaha well me. I stopped investing any part of me in my own life. That’s why when u say u want me to appreciate my power, my strength, I don’t really appreciate what u say. Because I have no real properties. I just stopped when I realized that being alive or dead wasn’t at all up to me.

C says wow. You don’t get the power in those words? No. Why I have no boundaries, ya know?

C looks at me for a few seconds. Says I totally see that but ya know what? Write that in your phone, we wanna leave that alone for now. I say isn’t that kinda important to understand? She says yep absolutely. But you’re getting way ahead of urself. Am I? Yep. Bits and pieces for now.

So I can’t think about this but it makes absolute sense to me. CLICK!

Two Kinds Of Survivors

This will likely be another unpopular blogpost. It’s something of an extension of my last disaster.

It occurs to me that there while we’re all individuals, there are really only two types of trauma survivors when all is said and done. There are traumatized people who remember safety, humor, happiness…good stuff. These folks need to put their horridly shattered lives back together but they have an essential framework to draw from.

And then there are those types of traumatized people who never acquired knowledge of essential goodness and safety and joy. The job for these survivors is to start at the beginning. To learn for the first time as adults these self-soothing concepts that are learned in one’s childhood.

It can be war. It can be a trauma that an adult suffers whose mind has been wiped clean. Mostly it’s child victims of extreme abuse.

Of course it’s not that easy I’m sure I will be hearing over and over here, so please read before reacting. But brains develop in the ways that they do. Little brains get stuck and parsed and there she goes.

The job of rebuilding a life that is happy and healthy and free of addictions is a monstrous one. There’s a guilt that goes with the inevitable depression: why can’t I just snap out of it? There’s self-blame and a loss that needs to be grieved for. In some ways it’s more painful to have something ripped away from a person than to never have had it at all. The sense of threat is I believe immense for so many people.

For people who never knew these lifeskill basics, where the world is really an enemy, the tasks are very different. Htpervigilance that’s been going on for decades is a tough nut to crack. It’s possible, yes. I know because I have cracked the shell myself.

These recovery processes are very different beasts. I personally don’t believe they have much in common. One is not “worse” that the other. They’re like apples and pomegranates.

Is one “harder” to recover from than the other? I think it’s obvious that it’s no picnic for either group. It generally takes longer to acquire a happy life for victims of longer-term or CSA. Some of this may be that the medical community doesn’t even agree on how to best treat DID/Borderline.

But the violation of a person who loses a sense of safety is hugely painful.

When it gets down to it, you jus’t can’t really understand the other side’s stuff. They’re two totally different animals.

Before you go launching off on me, please recognize that I do not mean to diminish anybody’s personal anguish. All I am saying is that these are 2 different challenges for creating a new and positive life.

Also, of course each of is carries our pain in the ways that we do. We are like snowflakes. But this broad distinction is valid.

Passing the Playground

So yesterday I am walking down the sidewalk with a fairly new client. Did’t know the neighborhood so we just took off walking.

Unfortunately we stumbled onto a playground. I stood, frozen, listening to the shrieks and laughter of little boys and girls. And suddenly I was about 5 years old, maybe abit younger.

I was instantly very very confused. What were these kids doing, just running around making all kinds of noise? How could they be so full of nonsense? What were they laughing at? What is there in this world to laugh at?

You see, the littles never got to play. We never learned so much about Fun. Our world was dark and scary and quiet. You have to be very quiet or they will come. These kids, with all their noise. They were going to make uncle Norman come. Surely they must know how much danger they are in?

Transfixed. Terrified. In such familiar ground.

Then out of nowhere we heard this voice in our head. You are not a little anymore dear. Those days are long behind you now. The danger has passed now you are an adult. You are with a client do you see him there? That big black Lab? He needs your help and you can give it to him because you know how to do so. You are an adult your name is (x). Breathe.

Oh yeah. That’s right. Adult now. Breathe. Call the dog. Smell the lovely flower-scented air. Okay Ricky let’s practice Heel some more.

And on I went with my day. This whole thing took I’d say maybe a minute. By opening my soul to the lessons Universe has to offer I was reset.

And so we turned away from the dangerous happy children and learned about how to walk on a leash.

Universe is real. Gratitude is real. Power is real. What a lovely lesson.

My Life Is Not A Joke

Recently I had a panic attack on Twitter. Not so much. It took an hour for me to calm myself enough to just sob. I am crying still.

Here’s what happened. Saturday afternoon I was twetting away with some friends. A huge lesbian activist group, the Lesbian Mafia, tweeted a “joke”: don’t take candy from strangers unless they offer to give you a ride.

Obvious reference to advice given to children about abuse, right? No doubt about it, a joke about CSA. I was shocked. I immediately tweeted them that I’m sure they mean no harm blah blah but CSA is never funny. No response.

Imagine my shock a few hours later to see this “joke” RT’d by someone I didn’t know. I blew up, sending three tweetst to the dykes. And then I had a massive panic attack, right there for all the world to see.

Jokes about CSA are never okay. It cannot be tolerated. Every time such words go by and are not pointed out it further causes acceptance of the most vile criminal acts that exist.

I felt that I was being made light of personally. I was being personally attacked. My childhood was being diminished. Again, as it was when I was a kid and nobody believed me. MY pain was being denied me.

It’s bad enough when a pedophile makes this kind of “joke”. It’s bad enough when men do it. I can accept that. But from my own people? Lesbian Activists? I flew apart.

My life is not a joke. I was abused/assaulted/raped/prostituted over 40 times before I reached my teen years. It is not funny. These things happened to me and there is NO occasion in which ANYONE can make light of it. I do not care who you are.

Tolerance of child sexual abuse is what perpetuates child sexual abuse. It is a life-altering, crushingly painful thing that shatters the minds of children and keeps them shattered their entire lives unless they are fortunate enough to be able to go through years and years and years of horrendous medication and psychotherapy.

These women know better. They fully understand the damage that is caused by acceptance and “joking” about domestic violence and prostitution and the inequality of women in this culture.

Do not make light of my painful experience, bitch. Do no continue to perpetuate rape culture against children. You have alof of followers and you need to understand your responsibility therefrom.

What happened to me is in the Library of Congress by now. I couldn’t breathe I was in sudden shock. No warning. Plummeting in public but I couldn’t stop typing. I can’t breathe I can’t breathe fuck fuck blah blah.

I was completely hysterical. I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t even read the screen. Completely demeaned. In the snap of a finger. I emailed my therapist, I really don’t know why. I mean what was there to do but ride it out? But inwaa so unsafe it seemed that anything could happen and I had to reach out…just in case.

Look at me. Look me right in the eye and tell me your fucking joke. And I will tear you to fucking bits. Bitch.

Sex and Feminism

I am really ticked off that I was called an “anti-feminist” by some woman because I talk about sex. It’s not a political issue she says she says I am a pornographer in sheep’s clothing and that is big mojo evil.

I cannot disagree with this bitch more strongly. For women who have lived thru sadistic, repeated childhood sexual abuse assault and rape there IS nothing more political than sex.

Readers know my story. When I was around I’d say ten maybe I was bit very hard on the clit. The intention in this act was to cause permanent physical damage and pain for the rest of my life. It was meant to humiliate me. It was meant to be a kind of a claiming thing, a guarantee that I would never again have a clitoral orgasm. It was intentional and it was very, very painful. It was a violation of my bodily integrity at the highest level imaginable.

I lived with this physical pain for forty-odd years. When it came to sex I was very accomplished at hiding and totally blocking it out. I assumed that this was a permanent thing.

When I was seeing my doctor for an unrelated thing this past fall I got from I don’t know where te courage to tell her about these pAinful orgasms. She is familiar with my abuse history but this was new news. Much to my surprise she
said oh yuck no you don’t have to put up with that let’s do acupuncture and see if that works. If if doesn’t we’ll move on to plan b or plan c or whatever to fix it.

The acupuncture worked. I am almost thru with it now and the pain has completely vanished. What this feels like to me is, well ahem pretty fucking amazing physically as you I hope already know.

But the physical aspect of the orgasm thing itself is nothing when contrasted against the fact that I do not think about my perpetrator every time that I ahem Get Off. Forty years of sex and everytime I would feel that screeching pain I would think of that fucking rat bastard and whAt he did to me. How could I not?

What I received when I got my clit fixed was my body. I got my body back. It no longer belongs to that motherfucker. I don’t have to dissociate to numb the excruciating pain. Which of course makes it all the better yet moreso.

So yes. Sex is for me a taking back. It is a claiming thing an ownership. It is a great big WIN for me. It is tremendous personal power.

I am also as you know a Lesbian with a very political bent. I think that straight people are in general abit more hung-up about talking about sex than gays are, simply because the most obvious thing that differentiates us from the rest of the world is the nature of the kinds of sex that we are drawn to. I may be wrong abou this, just saying it is my general impression.

Every time I share a smutty innuendo or tell a sex joke I am reclaiming my right to my body all over again. I am also getting alot of now as if to make up for lost time. And besides, it’s a pretty nifty new toy to get hahahahah.

There is nothing more feminist than owning one’s body. Reproductive rights, sexual rights. Civil rights. That is what it’s all about. I live radical feminism. I am not a pornographer because I talk about it. If this chick wants to know what pornography is I would be happy to explain just what exactly that is. Bitch.

So. If you are uncomfortable with it my advice is to not read me. Block me do whatever floats your boat. I get to have my body and I get to tell the world all about it.

Uptight bitch.

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