Secret Survivors

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This quote helped my self-esteem today.  I usually feel so defective.  Perhaps, I can think of some things that are right with me each day too.  How about you?

Silver Girl

I feel this relates to all types of abuse and neglect..

SG x

“The aftereffects of Post-Incest Syndrome are not ‘problems’ to be ‘overcome’, but coping mechanisms that have negative side-effects. By attaching the concept of ‘disorder’ to these consequences, we damn the incest survivor to weakness instead of attributing to her the strength of spirit, creativity, and endurance that she deserves–that she has earned.”

~ Secret Survivors by E. Sue Blume

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Lonely, but for fellow bloggers…

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It is hard to find people in this world who will try to understand just what PTSD is, let alone how it impacts your life.  Even people who love you are apt to know more about the president’s dog than PTSD.  Even if they read up on it, they may not understand it in an empathetic way since it is not something they experience.  There are days that I feel more understood by the cat than a dear friend.  (Of course, this is anthropomorphism — but heh, whatever gets me through the day… 😉 ) But, here at WordPress, I can find others who walk my path — who “get it” — because they are walking it too.  It may not be PTSD, but  instead depression, anxiety, OCD, DID, bi-polar disorder, or any number of mental and emotional health challenges.   But, we can understand each other because we have shared experiences. Some days, we write a post and feel heard when we see a “like” on it.  We press “like” when we find a post we can relate to.  Sometimes we even comment on each others blogs and share a thought or two.  We see others on the path sharing our journey.  The loneliness abates.  Other people’s ignorance is easier to bear.  There are others who understand and whom we understand and this is a very good thing.

Imaginary Friend

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Imaginary Friend.”

My imaginary friend refused to grow up. She is still five years old.  She is still trying to have the childhood she never had.  Severely abused, but safe now, she wants a life of bright colors and laughter. Tears of relief are okay too.  Her name is simply Little One.  She plays with her own dolls that are no longer taken from her.  They have tea parties with sugared tea and many smiles. Watercolors, her own watercolors, are taped upon every wall.   These pictures that she has painted of her dolls, stuffed animals and her new Mom adorn the room. I am her Mom and I love Little One with all my heart.  I do my best to try  to make up for her years of sadness and hurt.  She is sad less and less and even dances sometimes.  Can you see her spinning about with her dress twirling as she laughs?

Her imaginary room has a bay window with long, soft curtains that move in the breeze from the open window. Sitting there, Little One basks in the feeling of being safe. Safe to be. Safe to be little.

Image from Bing

A Conversation with my 14 Year Old Self

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A Conversation with my 14 Year-Old Self

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “From You to You.”

I’ve got good news and bad news for you kiddo.  Pimples aren’t forever is the good news.  Tough times will continue but the abuse will end.  You will cut the ties with your awful parents. The other good news is that you get to have a great kid.  Just the one, but he’s enough.  That’s right — a son.  He is funny and smart and loving and you have all kinds of joys raising him.  Your husband?  Oh… well…you’ve had two so far.  You’re not exactly lucky in love.  Sorry about that.  But you have good friends — some you even know right now!  No, I’m not telling who, I want it to be a surprise.  Your sister and you are still close and she has a daughter who grows up to be a published poet.  Yeah, really.  You? You become a reading tutor and also teach in preschools.  You adore children and love your work.  All that playing school years ago becomes your passion.  When do the pimples go away?  Ha!  – in a couple of years.  But you get to have some nice boyfriends with pimples so its okay.  No, you don’t marry any of your junior high or high-school sweethearts.  No, you never date Jimmy B. who you roped and kissed in kindergarten.  You are boy-crazy, aren’t you?

Children: To Hit or Not to Hit? (spoiler: NOT!)

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Hitting children is abusive.  It is taking advantage of adult power over children and should not be tolerated in our society. Please read this thought-provoking blog.

Barking Back

The text in this image can be found at the bottom of the post. Children Learn What They Live poem by Dorothy Law Nolte from http://www.docstoc.com/docs/158159649/Children-Learn-What-They-Live

Another facebook friend is advocating hitting children. In the wake of another local bullying incident, my news feed is once again spattered with variations on the meme of “If there was more of THIS {image of a child being spanked}, there’d be less of THIS {image of young criminals*}.”

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Favorite Childhood Books

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One of my favorites was The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  This was in the late 60’s before it became so popular or was made into movies.   I remember first finding it in my grade school library.  I would peruse shelves of books, just looking at titles and covers one by one. Suddenly, I stopped.  I saw a picture of a dwarf holding a flask (older copy of book).  Hmmm.. this looks interesting…I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up as my excitement built.   I took hold of the book feeling it’s promise in my hands.   I think this is the best way to find a book — to feel it calling you.  And to find it on your own — not on a best seller list, or as a present. It seems more personal, as if it is a secret shared between you and the author.

I’d like to hear about other people’s favorite childhood books, so please write in the comment box if you feel like sharing.

Where the Ponies Run

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Somewhere the ponies run —

And I can ride, I can ride

Somewhere the ponies run

 past all the memories I fear.

Across the fields, under the sun —

We will ride, we will ride

Across the fields, under the sun

Into fair  meadows of cheer.

Sad thoughts — there will be none —

And we will dance, we will dance

Bad dreams — they will be gone —

 Our eyes will have no tears.

Somewhere the ponies run

And joy is somewhere near.