Posts Tagged ‘healing’

  ”  Hope is a thing with Feathers”  

                                                       emily dickenson



I didn’t know what to title this post, it could have been the  , ”  The  Road to Wellville” ( silly)  or…. The Happiness Project ( some thing else) ,  but

The Happiness  Road/ Happiness is the Road   seemed to be  good  middle ground.

” Happiness” is not a  destination nor is ” Wellness” ( ?) some ending

recovery  point,  as if  both were  grand prizes  to be offered

after a long time of working on your stuff and in the mean time, the job is to

suffer along the way of healing.

It is true ( for me)  that healing requires  a  breaking of sorts.

Yes.  There has been anguish along the way.

 and  still   Happiness and Joy are found and experienced  on that  same path.

Joy and Happiness  and Peace   are a   Birthright.

Get on the Happiness Road and claim  your share of the Pie.

















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This is from a  Blog, ” I am convicted”.  Andy writes great  stuff.

Reinvention is more than just a

healing process … it’s a hard look at

the chains that bind.

I am convicted.

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I’d wanted to write a bit more on my  healing journey.   After my hospitalization in the early 1990’s  I did finally  begin to get assistance for my sexual abuse .  The truth is :  that alone was only another beginning/

Peeling back the Layers.

Another Doorway.   The only analogy that I can think of is one of  Layers .  I had just started on the first layer of my abuse – what I didn’t understand at the time was that  there were other layers to work through.  In each Layer that I subsequently worked thru the  severity  of the abuse increased until I arrived at the core issues.

Around that same time I joined an Incest Survivors Group at the local Rape and Sexual Abuse Center.  It was the luck of the draw that I happened to be in a group of women , who  ultimately had  stories with some similarity to mine.  We were given the project of the time line and it was  the  hardest thing for me .  I sat struggling with the  time line of my life – and began to panic when i realized that entire years of my life had disappeared from my memory, as if they had been erased or fallen down some  deep rabbit  hole. Shortly after that my Flashbacks began in terrible earnest.  I struggled with learning  how to maintain them.  I struggled with the smells that came back or snap shots.. but i did write, write and write and  write and  had my fair witness :  My therapist.  In addition I was also working … it is fair to say  I did not have much of a life at that time/ but kept on plodding along into the depression ,  feeling somehow that it would get better.

When the Cult Activities that my brother and his friends  began to surface, I thought that I was loosing my mind ! At the time  I was thinking.. Aha! now I have the proof.. that something is really wrong with me ! I had many sleepless nights, waking up screaming, terrified that someone was coming into my room etc…

My calls to  local Crisis lines of that time did not go very well.  One woman laughed,  Another was clearly scared of me etc.. so I stopped calling local Crisis lines and called National hotlines instead. Thank  God for those. One was in Dallas , Tx  and another was  from the Jewish Federation in New York City.. Of course i also have my self to thank as I didn’t give up  and after a while of learning how to manage my own Flashbacks :  I no longer needed the assistance of  Crisis lines  and had my Therapist as a back  up.

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Determination/ Hope/ Despair ?   What is it that exists in  the mind of a sexually trafficked child that clings to the  light instead being swallowed into the  darkness of organized child prostitution.

My mother once made me read , ” The Dairy of Anne Frank“,  whose words of hope in humankind while living hidden during the Nazi invasion of Holland was profound.  Perhaps Anne Frank’s Ghost held my hand as I walked the streets of late 1960’s New York City.

I remember a moment of decision. A decision to stay Alive.  I had to wear  purple hot pants and a blonde wig. One night it was cold and raining and I felt so full of despair & made a decision.   My decision  was to simply to  Grow up and get big and tall.

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The Road Not Taken

My Healing Journey began in earnest in the 1990’s . In the early 1990’s a number of off shoot 12-step support groups modeled on  Ala-non came into existence.  In the Nashville area these were , Co-dependency Anonymous, Adult Children of Alcoholics ( ACOA) , Sexual Abuse Survivors Anonymous ( SASA) and Incest Survivors Anonymous ( ISA)  and  Ritual Abuse Survivors Anonymous ( RASA) and  in addition to these groups,  SNAP Nashville  (Survivors Sexually Abused by Priests)  and a short-lived non-profit for Ritual Abuse Survivors , ”  Hope House'”.  I also attended a faciltated  therapy group for female survivors of Ritual Abuse  here in Nashville.   These groups did not arrive on the scene all at the same time.  RASA and Hope House  were  the last ones to appear in the late 1990’s.  All of these groups were helpful and informative and very  supportive.  To my knowledge SNAP Nashville is still meeting in Nashville,  RASA is not and  I am not sure about ACOA, SASA or ISA.

As a result of an in-patient hospitalization I began working on my Sexual Abuse Issues and was linked  up with a Therapist who specialized in Sexual Abuse and to my good fortune also with Ritual Abuse.  I was now on the road to recovery.

Matsuo Basho writes,

I am awe-struck

to hear a cricket singing

underneath the dark cavity

of an old Helmet.

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