More Than Surviving

Confusion, Trust, Refining

2009-04-25T00:06:00.004-05:00

D and I have been talking again. Instead of only a three day fast, the Lord had me fasting indefinitely, until "it" was broken. The difficulty and stretch for my faith was wondering what "it" was and would I truly know when I was to cease fasting. It turned out to be fear that I was coming against and the fast lasted all of passion week, ending during the Easter morning service. How appropriate. I cannot say that the victory has been manifested in the earth realm, and there is still prayer required. In fact, I find myself using my prayer language regularly, at times that I don't expect, and I know it is for him. So many tears have been shed. But not over my own feelings. Rather, they are for his total release and fullness of living a life of freedom in Christ.

In reading "Angels on Assignment" by Roland Buck, I realized that God's plans WILL come to pass here on this earth. He does not cease working and orchestrating events to bring them to pass. While never stepping on men's and women's freedom to choose, He will continue to hedge them in on every side in an effort to guide and direct their paths. In this I can rest.

I found it confounding that during my time of fasting and prayer, I was coming against fear in D's life and the very next week, I was combatting it within myself. I have been challenged to let go of my expectations. To let go of my need to manipulate the situation for the outcome I desire. To let go of my need for sexual validation to confirm that I am cared for and loved. To let go of any subtle urges to sabotage the situation, as well.

God has been speaking to me throughout this testing. And that's what it truly is...a testing. It is stretching me in ways I never thought. He has told me repeatedly to "Watch and wait." Sometimes He adds, "watch what I will do; watch me move," or "watch and wait with me one hour." Another time when I was crying out to him because I was afraid that D and I were disconnecting from one another, He told me, "I know your heart's desire and my intention is to give it to you." I found myself afraid to know what my heart's true desire really is. If it is for D, then there are obstacles to be overcome. And hurts along the way, as well.

I am lacking understanding regarding my urge to sabotage this friendship/relationship. It would be so much easier to walk away and return to a life focused on my own growth and answering to no one other than God. Now, I find myself wondering about my status with D. Are we simply friends? If so, then I am free to pursue other interests, including other potential relationships. I find myself attracted to a friend, but I hesitate to act on that attraction for fear of losing the possibility with D. Now, another male friend may need a place to stay for a while due to problems in his marriage, and I offered my spare room. When I shared that with D, he kept reiterating that this friend should just find an apartment. He quickly ended our phone conversation to check on his kids, with the promise of calling me back. However, he did not. Am I reading too much into this? Am I being paranoid? Am I looking for every little bit of evidence to support my fear that D will once again retreat from fear? Was my premature offer to my friend and then my excited relaying of the same to D a way of testing D or pushing him to stake his claim?

I can feel my anxiety rising and it appears that I am powerless to halt its inevitable crescendo. But appearance is not truth. The truth of the matter is that God is in control and regardless of my failings or successes, what is going to happen will be a direct result of His continued involvement. I must step back and keep my eyes focused on Him. My prayer language has been utilized more in this relationship than at any other time, save for the satanic attack on our church body a few years ago. I find myself losing sight, at times, of the enormous battle that is taking place. I do not know all that is taking place in the spirit realm, but it is of importance. Rather than focusing on my own life and attempting differentiation on my own, I must remember my place as a person in the Lord's army, acting on His orders, and making all decisions and formulating my thinking and planning based upon His grand plan, whatever that may be.

Waiting on the Lord...

2009-04-05T21:11:00.003-05:00

I find it so difficult to trust whatever it is that the Lord is trying to do here in my life. As I talked about in a previous post, I have been communicating with D, a person from my past, someone I went to school with from kindergarten through twelfth grade. He remembers us hanging out as kids, how scary my dad was, and that nobody was ever allowed in my house, all things that I cannot remember at all. But I trust his memories. Checking around inside, I find that everyone trusts him, with the exception of a part who calls herself Julia. This man was actually able to have a one-on-one conversation with her and all he asked is that she give him the benefit of the doubt. His intentions were not to hurt me.

After the initial revelation about the ritual abuse and DID, he took some time to process it but came back stronger than ever. He made a conscious decision that I should not have to pay for the sins of my parents. He realized that there were obstacles to be overcome, but he admitted that he really liked me and wanted to see where things would lead. We've spent hours talking. The level of honesty was amazing. Our communication was of the kind that I've never known before.

It has become necessary for him to seek sole custody of his kids because of issues with their mother. He's such a devoted father and feels things so deeply that it hurts him to take them away from their mother. He's hoping to also receive permission to move back here to be near family. The custody issue alone is a huge deal and emotionally draining. It brings with it a lot of unknowns and a restriction on his personal time that he would have devoted to getting to know me better.

Just finished chatting with him online and according to him, there is no possibility of anything developing. He feels badly about it, but after talking to friends, family, and his pastor, he believes that his focus must be on home and his boys. I agree. He just doesn't realize that I would be an asset to the process. We've agreed to be friends, and I can live with that. How can I do that, you may ask? B/c the Spirit of God in me is what attracts someone, and all I have to do is be myself.

Our chat continued. Things are completely messed up. He knows I'm angry and hurt. He's feeling stressed about a reservation that I made when we were supposed to be meeting up. He lacks the maturity to have an adult friendship with me at this point. He doesn't know how it works. It's so sad. And what's even worse is that I really think that God has been trying to orchestrate a relationship between us and his fear is what keeps it from happening. Now my own anger and hurt is what's likely to keep it from happening. I keep praying for a supernatural intervention, like Joseph received the angelic visitation telling him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife. The Lord has called me to fast the next three days and that includes fasting from contacting him. I don't know WHY God's asking me to do that. Things seem pretty hopeless at this point. He said that the friendship needs to find it's footing. I agree. But hey, at least it frees me up to move on with my life until he figures things out...does it? I don't know, now. If God wants us to be together, then should I wait for it to happen? Or should I move forward and God will bring him to his senses and it'll work out even if I've moved on? I still keep hearing God saying, "Watch and wait." He's been saying that all along. So I don't try to manipulate anything on my own.

D has issues. Of that I'm becoming more aware. He struggles with the fact that I have piercings...oh brother! My eyebrow and tongue are pierced. Big deal! he has problems with the fact that I have goth characteristics and appreciation for it's culture. He was a part of the dark side of that culture. He has a problem with the fact that I have abuse issues in my past. He's an interesting mix of conservative and liberal. He still thinks that one should dress up for church, but is angered that many in the church villify the homosexual lifestyle.

Today W&C prayed for me. They prayed that I would have only God's very best for me. I thought that D was it. He possessed so many of the qualities and characteristics that I have desired for so long. But if he's not God's best, then wow! whoever that is is gonna be absolutely fantastic.

And I talked with Hawaii Boy online earlier today. I miss him. He's been such a good friend and he really gets me. He admires me and appreciates who I am. He let me know that I have had an influence on his life in a positive way. I keep praying that he would find his way to the Lord. I think he's close. He expressed a desire to have a faith like mine, but he doesn't "feel" it. I think that he's envious of my confidence in my faith and how it guides me. His marriage is just about over. He's going to end it sooner rather then later. It would be difficult to stay away from him if he were single. Although he doesn't know Christ, his love and concern are intoxicating. Perhaps more so right now b/c I'm hurting from D's rejection.

Joel Osteen is on the tube right now. Never watched him, but there are some things that are reminding me of a prophetic word spoken over my life by Theresa Griffith. It was "Follow me. If you think you know where you are going, you won't follow me." I need to keep my eyes fixed on the Lord of the universe. He has His plan laid out for my life. Joel just said that my Boaz is out there. I'm unsure that I'm willing to try again. I take that back. I know I will. I just wish I understood why God drew me into a relationship with D in the first place and why He continues to tell me to "watch and wait." My inclination is to shake the dust off my feet and move on. Screw him. Who needs him? Am I that desperate that I want to hold on to someone who has been saying clearly that nothing is going to happen between us? No! I am just the kind of person who cares about people and knows that I have something to bring to any person because of Christ in me. It's not about me and my pride. It is about bringing the light, joy, and peace of Christ into those dark and difficult places.

So...when do I get my Boaz?

Sins of the Father...

2009-03-13T22:32:00.002-05:00

I find that the horrors of my past continue to follow me into the present. I don't think that I will ever be free from this legacy of isolation and despair. I have broken free, thanks be to God, from the influence of the group itself. The last (I believe) rope that kept me tied to them was my ex-husband, R. Parts of me recently revealed that he had been involved in perpetuating the mind-control programming and accessing alters to assure their continued involvement. Exactly what that involvement entailed, I am not clear. What is clear to me at this point is the following:

I have found it increasingly detestful to communicate with R in any way, but particularly by phone or text. Email is a last resort only when something MUST be addressed.

There was a period of time when he would call me, without fail, the morning of my therapy appointment. On no other day of the week would he call in the morning. That, of course, stopped during our separation and divorce. However, the week following the initial dicovery, he called and attempted to carry on a conversation, fishing for information about the current state of my life.

He never accepted and consistently supported my journey into truth. In fact, more often than not, he would attempt to discredit things that I was uncovering in my sessions. He also did not respond in a "normal" way to young child alters, prefering to yell at them and ignore them. Additionally, he would often push for a reconciliation with my parents. He willingly invited my mother in on the ocassions when she would appear on our doorstep.

My alters have shown me a conglomerate of pictures that include him holding an upside down cross, evil and malice evident in his face. They believe that our entire marriage was a set up, that the group intended for it to happen so that they could keep me exactly where they wanted.

What the group could not predict, nor prevent, was the working of Holy Spirit in my life. He opened my heart to the everlasting, unconditional love of the Father. He demonstrated His power that overcomes any and all evil. He has led me in His paths and exposed the plots of the enemy, setting him to flight.

I have recently reconnected with an old classmate from school. The first time we "chatted" online, I sense something that I can only call God's calling to me. There was a resistance within me to continuing a discussion and that was because I was fearful of becoming involved with him, even though it seemed to be what God was placing in front of me and saying, "Will you trust me and take it?" We have been talking online for hours now, and twice had plans to meet face to face. Both times they fell apart. Our discussions ranged from the mundane to the immensely profound and Truth was at the center of it all. There was open discussion about looking for a marriage partner, rather than simply dating for the hell of it. He posseses so many qualities that I have been longing for in someone with whom I could share my life: he's funny, kind, loyal, generous, spontaneous, sacrificial for his children, excellent parent, respectful, thoughtful, intelligent, seeking my best. He developed a faith in God after a time in the wilderness, making it that much stronger than if he had simply "followed the program" he had been raised with.

I knew that it was important to share my past with him sooner, rather than later. I felt it only fair that he know exactly what he was entering into. Little did I expect that his objection would be on the grounds of his children's safety. Their safety never was a question in my mind. I thought about his need to understand the spiritual implications involved, his disturbance with my having many alters and what that would mean (am I crazy?), I was even prepared for skepticism. Instead, he believed everything I said and immediately thought about what it would mean for his kids. Again...reasons to love him.

Now, however, I have to struggle with the very real possibility that he may end this relationship before it even begins. I have no idea what I can say, if anything, that will provide him the peace that he needs to continue in this, sans fear for his children's safety.

In a current conversation, he is asking me to go back IN the group undercover in an effort to bring them down. Amazing man that he is, he spent hours today reading about ritual abuse. He continues to believe that it happens, but finds it difficult to accept that there is NO WAY to prove it. I don't understand all of what God is attempting to do here, but He's doing something. My task is to allow God to continue His work without interfering. And without getting defensive or feeling the necessity of proving myself.

In turning to my pastor for prayer covering, the word that he gave was, "Very slow is very Good." What does that mean? My idea of slow, others' ideas of slow, and God's idea of slow are very different. I am beginning to realize that perhaps the reason God brought D and I together is to open his eyes to something more. His sense of injustice would be invaluable in the fight against this atrocity.

It enrages me that I am having to pay for what was done to me by possibly losing this relationship. My father, mother, and other members of the cult are the ones who sinned and I am the one who suffers...first by having a husband who was involved, now by possibly losing a potentially great relationship. Shouldn't I be reaping the rewards of loving the Lord? I recognize that I share in the sufferings of Christ...where's the ressurection life that also comes?

The Ultimate Betrayal

2009-03-12T21:26:00.003-05:00

How's this for total bullshit? I just came to realize, via many parts inside, that my now ex-husband, R, was part of the abuse I experienced. What a fucking asshole! The pieces are not all in place but this much I know...he knew what was taking place and helped make it happen. They're also starting to let me in on knowledge about our whole marriage being a set up by "the group."

Some of you may understand this and others may not, but people involved in the cult are at in levels of society, including doctors, lawyers, police officers, and the military. They are also in other jobs that carry less power, such as blue collar positions. Such was the case with R. We worked together and I was married at the time. We knew of each other, but didn't know each other directly. One day I left for lunch and got about a half mile from the office when I realized my tire was flat. Great! Just great! What to do now? Walk back to the office in high heels? Call for assistance? Just then, R pulled up. He just happened to be going to lunch at the same time, to the same place, taking the same route. He gallantly changed my tire and as we talked, it turned out that we had both gone to the same high school, he grew up in a Dutch Christian Reformed Church, his parents and mine square danced together. It was uncanny how many things we had in common. And of course sharing the stories from high school just fostered the connection between us. It didn't take long for him to seduce me, although he'd likely say I pursued him. What I believe now is that long-hidden programming was triggered that made it impossible for me to resist the temptation to be with him. I quickly divorcd my first husband and moved in with R. Or rather, he moved in with me.

The courtship was volatile, filled with low-level phyiscal violence, verbal abuse, and alcohol. But what I thought was love that I felt, was actually fear. On some level, I knew that I was SUPPOSED to be with him. If I had known then what I know now, and if I had had the personal relationship with God that I have now, I would have run for the hills as fast as I could. I remember sitting outside our villa on our honeymoon and saying to myself, "This was a huge mistake and now I'm locked into it." I had no skills or ability to set limits and boundaries, so I didn't know how to stand up for myself. After years of being abused by my family, I didn't know that I COULD say no to something. I thought I had to go along with the program.

Within a few months, I was on a prescription tranquilizer to help with my nerves, which were beginning to fray. The fighting was constant and I felt hopeless that things would change. There were many times I grabbed a kitchen knife and seriously thought about cutting myself. I had not been a self-injurer at any other time in my life, but it was looking better all the time. Looking back, I think that the cutting would have been an attempt to strengthen the dissociation and get me "back on track." Six month after the wedding, we got into a fight and I took the whole prescription, which landed me in the hospital ER. I was given the option to stay for a week in the psych ward, which I gladly accepted (how many people WANT to be there?) because it meant a week of peace in my life. While there, I started to learn new skills that would allow me to say "no" and make choices that were better for me.

My counseling continues for two years and at one point, I was feeling suicidal again. I distinctly remember sitting on the floor in the dark of my bedroom and thinking I had a choice: I could kill myself or I could reach out to my pastor's wife, C, whom I barely knew. Thank God I chose the latter. When I met with her, she explained that God is intimately involved in my life and the struggles we have are not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual forces in the world. It was as if a lightswitch was flipped and things made sense. I didn't suddenly remember the ritual abuse, but I at least began to understand that God was personal...huge for me.

Needless to say, the changes in my life were not well-received by R. When our church went through a major split, he wanted to go with the "others," effectively removing the influence of my pastor and his wife, W&C. I fought tooth and nail to stay put and he capitulated. At every turn, my personal and spiritual grown were challenged. I was accused by R of being in a cult (how ironic), taking the spiritual things too far, discounting any revelation or understanding that the Lord provided.

There was a time when I began cutting myself. I remember it started just as a tiny scratch, wondering how it would feel. It escalated to doing it every day. Eventually, it became something that I did to either prevent dissociating or to enhance the dissociation to protect myself and other parts. It was also a way of punishing myself for perceived wrongs, and at other times to keep from physically lashing out at others, R in particular. Most of the time, he turned a blind eye to the cutting. When he did pay attention, he was angry and told me I was crazy. He cared little that he was provoking and eliciting that kind of response. In no way am I absolving myself of the responsibility for my choice. It took me a long time to realize that I really did have a choice to handle things in a different way.

Over the years, trauma and stress would trigger a switch and other parts would make their presence known. Whenever this happened, he would became angry and unresponsive. He reinforced the incident that caused the switch in the first place. At times, a younger part would come forward and he would treat them like an adult, rather than the 4 or 5 year old that they were. As memories would surface, he would discount and discredit them. At times, he would tell me I was crazy and should be locked up. He consistently defended my family, saying what good people they were. There were times that my mother unexpectedly appeared at my door and he invited her in.

There were other connections, as well. His mother kept my mother up-to-date about goings on in my/our lives. When our house was being built, his brother took both mothers to see the house in progress. Even though we had buried a Bible in the foundation and the house wasn't even complete, I felt an evil presence before we even moved in. Now I understand why. R's brother bowled and drank with my brother every week, so another source of information was available to my family.

Every time I made progress, he would make attempts to set me back. At times, he aligned himself with a family in our church who were Satanic plants, bent on destroying the ministry there. He repeatedly chose this person over me until he realized that their time was limited and the Lord was forcing them out. Then his tune changed. I remember during one time of group prayer in which R was involved, it very clearly came to me that there were spirits of blasphemy and degradation present. I kept it to myself but shared it with my pastor's wife later. Since we didn't know what Randy was involved with, these spirits didn't make sense and it seemed that I misheard. Now...they make perfect sense.

Since we've split, R has made feeble attempts to keep in contact. A text here or there about a friend's health, asking me to watch the dog while he goes out of town, showing up at church out of the blue, making sure he knows that he broke up with his girlfriend. I give him no information.

I am very grateful to the parts who finally were able to step forward and tell me the truth. While R's influence and ability to cue programming was diminished a long time ago, being fully cognizant of his ploys makes life so much less complicated. It is easy to see through his tricks and there is no grey area...it's all black and white for me now. There was a time when I loved him, but that time has passed. I realize that "there but for the grace of God go I." There is no difference between he and I. Both raised in the cult. God saw fit to rescue me from hell. I don't know why me and not Randy, but I do pray that he would come to know Christ during this lifetime.

"Let's Talk About Sex, Baby..."

2009-02-05T22:51:00.002-06:00

Okay, so the whole post is not going to be about sex. But it'll be in here somewhere. I went to my second ex's (R) house this afternoon to see my dog. I had sent him a text making sure it was okay and he wanted to know what time I would get there and when I'd be leaving. No problem. Curious, though. Not usually an issue. While I was at the house, I got to snooping. I looked in the kitchen cabinet to see if he was still giving the dog his pills and I noticed a prescription bottle for Lexapro, an antidepressant, in his new girlfriend's name. I'm not stupid. In fact, I'm quite astute. Since an antidepressant like that is usually taken once a day, either morning or evening, it meant that she was staying overnight with him, which meant they were having, God forbid.....SEX!!!! I felt sick to my stomach but just had to confirm it for myself. I'm watching myself go up the stairs into the master bedroom. The first thing I noticed is that the bed was made. He NEVER made the bed when we were married. He was obviously trying to impress the stupid woman. Yes, I called her stupid and I'll explain why a little later. I noticed that he didn't try to impress her too much because he had a bunch of empty beer bottles on the nightstand. I went into the bathroom to see if she had any things there and felt a sigh of relief escape when there weren't. But I just couldn't help myself and went over to the nightstand, arguing with myself the whole time that this was an invasion of his privacy, I wouldn't like it one little bit if he did the same to me, I wasn't going to like what I found, blah, blah, blah. But it didn't stop me. I just had to pull open the drawer and yep, you guessed it. Empty condom wrappers. I was ready to vomit. Not because I felt cheated on, but because they've only been dating a little over a month and it is just so typical of him. He just couldn't keep it in his pants. He's a man-whore, in my opinion. He gets an urge and has to follow it to its full completion.

It crossed my mind to wonder what she thought of his sexual prowess. In the 16 years we were together, it pretty much sucked. My first ex was pretty great. I orgasmed every time, until I started having sexual dificulties (which I now understand were a result of the ritual abuse I experienced). And Hawaii Boy, whoa baby. He was, hands down, THE BEST. So what made these two great and R not? Their attitude towards me and lovemaking. They genuinely cared about me. It was about expressing their feelings for me, not some sex act to get their rocks off. R was a selfish lover. Yes, he tried to please me at times, but it was really about him feeling good about himself, not for the sheer pleasure of satisfying me. I tried many times to explain what I needed and how I liked things, but he never could break from his own ways. There was no being "one."

In any case, this discovery prompted me to take the initiative and ask a friend to help me get the rest of my belongings out of the house and soon. I realized that being in the house, keeping tabs on R in one way or another, was just keeping me tied to him and that is something I want to completely end. Let the chips fall where they may.

I'm beginning to acept with my whole being that R and I are not going to reconcile and that's a very good thing. When I stopped by last week, I noticed the brand new 55" flat screen tv and the flat screen computer monitor. This man does not have that kind of moolah. He owes money out the wazoo and even if he got his yearly bonus, it would not have gotten him out of debt and bought the new electronic toys. The man has a spending problem, along with a drinking problem, and both appear to be getting worse.

Oh, did I fail to mention that his new girlfriend is a bartender? How convenient. This is why I think she's stupid: she's a bartender dating and sleeping with an alcoholic with a spending problem who is only recently divorced and has not worked through his own issues. Any woman in their right mind should run for the hills.

So this is what really got my goat. As I was pulling out of the subdivision, a perky blond in a blue mustang was pulling in. I knew right then and there that she was "the one." Sure enough, out of state license plates. So I did a U-ee and followed her. She pulled right into the driveway I had pulled out of not more than two minutes before. What a close fricking call for her. If she had shown up while I was there, I don't really know what I would have done. I can't believe she had the balls to show up only a few minutes after I had told Randy I'd be leaving. Little miss "shit-don't-stink" acted like she owned the place. (Okay, now I sound like a stalking bitter ex-wife.)

This is when I lost it. I drove to the local Starbucks and sent him a text that read, "You're girlfriend cut it pretty close. I passed her on my way out. Hope you're using protection. I didn't when I was in HI." That was how I dropped the bomb on him that I cheated on him while we were still married (even though he had already told me he wanted a divorce). All I wanted to do was hurt him like he had hurt me during the course of our marriage. I was absolutely shocked that he didn't respond. I thought for sure he wouldn't have been able to resist the bait. I have to say that I'm pretty impressed that he didn't stoop to my level. I was pretty disgusted with myself. I was not acting very differentiated.

Differentiation is a term used by Murray Bowen to describe a person's level of autonomy and ability to make well-thought-out choices about how to respond, rather than reacting from an emotional, gut-level place. Differentiation from R is something that I have been diligently working towards. Felt like all my hard work went to hell in a handbasket. Oh well. It felt good at the time and I've calmed down since then, so I can make better choices.

My emotions have been all over the place this evening. Angry with him for treating lovemaking so casually, angry that he could move on so quickly and easily, angry that he's making a mess of his life and he is completely oblivious, angry that he threw away the best thing that will ever happen to him, angry that he is deliberately taking steps away from the Lord. He's making choices that take him ever further away. I don't know how the Lord is going to possibly break through to R and woo him back. It saddens me. I feel so much relief every time I drive home from whereever I happen to be because I know there is peace in my home. I know that the Lord has big plans for me and He is taking care of me carefully and thoughtfully. He led me out of the danger zone with R and into a place of green pastures. I don't truly know from day to day where He's leading, but I follow anyway.

I have no excuse for my extramarital affair. I can explain it, but not justify it. I'll talk more in another posting about the ins and outs (no pun intended) and my journey to forgiveness.

For Everything There is a Season...

2009-01-19T00:40:00.002-06:00

My life has changed in so many ways over the last two years. More times than I can count, I thought about posting and for whatever reason(s) decided against it. So now I am ready to come clean. I'm tired of hiding and trying to live a life in which parts of me are kept secret. First, a timeline:

July, 2007: Things with R's niece, whome we had raised to an adult, came to a head. I had to tell her to leave our house because of a major violation of our private space and her complete indifference to what she had done. Her disrespect reached a level that was no longer tolerable. The result was a widening chasm between me and my husband that was never resolved.

August, 2007: I was re-evaluating my marriage and wondering what God was expecting of me. Things were becoming increasingly unbearable and I was falling apart. I asked Him if I was supposed to stay or go and I heard Him say, "You are free to leave." I felt so relieved that He wasn't expecting me to stay in a situation that was tearing me apart. It didn't mean that I was going to immediately take that as my out and divorce my husband. It just meant that I could start thinking about taking care of myself. I began recognizing feelings of inadequacy and wondered what had happened to the woman who was unafraid to take on the world and believed that she could do anything. I made a conscious choice to set a time limit of one year for things to begin drastically changing in my marriage or I would have to consider separating to save myself.

September, 2007: Became so depressed that I was barely functioning. I was ready to risk all the years of schooling by simply dropping out of my master's program in the last leg of the journey. I could hardly get up in the morning and found it next to impossible to do what was expected of me by my internship site. While not suicidal, I was checking out of life. After talking to my therapist, I decided to see the doctor and once again try an antidepressant. In the past, others had not worked, had walled off other parts, or made me feel even more depressed. It was hell coming off of them back then, but I simply did not have a choice this time around. If I didn't have some kind of medical intervention, I was going to wind up hospitalized. It took five days of not eating, sleeping, showering, or functioning before the side effects started tapering off.

October, 2007: I took my licensing exam and passed!!!!

December, 2007: The month from hell. My husband was hospitalized for several days just before Christmas with strep, bronchitis, and a multitude of other symptoms. In everything I did, I was thinking with sadness about the possibility that in a year, we might not be together if things didn't change. He came home on Christmas Eve and the following day, while spending time with his family, things seemsed so good. I have two specific memories of that day: 1) hugging and kissing him in the kitchen of his mom's house and thinking that I didn't want our marriage to end-I loved him; and 2) looking around at some of his family members and realizing that I would miss them if things did not work out. I was especially reminded of his brother-in-law who had died the previous July.

A few days later, we attended the wedding of a friend's son. We danced together and had a wonderful evening. I was thinking about how much I loved him and felt a deep sorrow for the distance that had grown over the years.

New Years Eve came with a bombshell. We went to dinner and in my attempts to talk together about the past year and the year to come, he told me he wanted a divorce. I was shocked, hurt, and angry. He didn't even have the guts to come right out and say the word. All he could say was that he couldn't have another year like the one just over and that we both deserved to be happy and it wasn't going to happen together. I had to ask him several times if he was asking for a divorce. He finally said, "Yes." I remember thinking,"So this is what it's like when your spouse says they want a divorce." I noticed it wasn't awful, but there was a pit in my stomach. I felt empty. I realized that God had taken the decision about whether to stay or go out of my hands because R had made it for me.

January, 2008: I moved out of the master bedroom and bath. He seemed to think that even though we were divorcing, it should not prevent us from having sex and cuddling at night. That was just too much. I found out that within a few days of his asking for a divorce, he signed up for Yahoo! personals.

March, 2008: This month deserves a posting all its own. Suffice it to say that I went to Hawaii for a work-related conference and became physically and emotionally involved with a married man. The day I came home, my husband asked if we could go to counseling together. While I was gone, he had become lonely and wanted to do something to try and work things out. I became stubborn, dug in my heels, and told him it was too late. I was coming down from an incredible high that included someone showing care and concern that I had never experienced in my marriage and could not even fathom the emotional rollercoaster counseling with my husband would entail. Each time we had attended counseling in the past, it had failed miserably and we ended up worse off than before because more truth had been spoken. I struggle now with what might have happened if I had, in fact, been more willing to try at that time.

April, 2008: My mother-in-law became seriously ill and passed away. I was caught between wanting to support my husband during that time and going with him to the hospital, and feeling like a total fraud because I was playing the good wife when he was divorcing me. This was when his family found out about the impending divorce. I was able to be there for him when he was at home, and did all I could to make it easier for him to spend as much time as possible with his mother. I took up the responsibility of handling all the food for the funeral. While it was incredibly uncomfortable because I was on my way out of the family (and not by my choice, mind you) it was also important for me to show my love and concern for him and his family as a whole.

May, 2008: I defended my portfolio as the final step towards my graduate degree. I passed, with no revisions necessary. Started working at a counseling agency and was also offered a position at my internship site.

July, 2008: Met with the lawyer and began the divorce proceedings. We decided to use a mediator to iron out all the details. We walked out of there angrier than before and it took several attempts for he and I to negotiate and renogiate the details.

August, 2008: Officially graduated from Governors State University with my Masters in Marriage and Family Counseling!

September, 2008: Moved into my co-op Labor Day weekend. I was helped by my soon-to-be ex and his brother. Took several weeks to get unpacked and settled into a routine. The divorce was final on the 24th. Afterwards, my ex and I went to lunch and ran errands together. Looking back, I wish that I had began the emotional divorce much sooner, but hadn't realized how attached to him I continued to be.

October, 2008: Hawaii Boy showed his true colors and decided to pull "into his shell" because his life was messed up and he needed to figure things out. His timing was just perfect...a week before Halloween, even though he knew what that meant for me. Again, another posting is necessary. That month, I went to dinner with my ex and told him exactly how I was feeling about him and what interfered with our being together. He wanted to just "enjoy the fact that we were getting along without fighting." Not enough for me.

November, 2008: Went to a friends for Thanksgiving dinner and then over to the ex's. He made dinner for his family and invited me to come by. I couldn't leave fast enough because he was drunk. He wanted me to stay over because it was late. I couldn't do it.

December, 2008: This is the second year that December just seems to suck. Invited the ex out for dinner for another "talk." This time around, he wasn't as open to my honesty. He became defensive and at one point even suggested that I go to lunch with my mother, one of the perpetrators! He also stated that we would probably never know what had happened and if the ritual abuse actually happened. Of couse some parts of me wanted to strangle him but held back. I told him that I couldn't be around him anymore because it hurt too much because of my feelings and my desire to BE with him.

Shortly thereafter, God challenged me to "let him go and that He couldn't do what He needed to with R if I was holding on to him." I wrestled for days because of my fear that I wouldn't get R back. But I also knew that God loved him more than I ever could and that no matter what, God loved me too. I am still struggling with letting go.

A couple weeks later my ex invited me to come for Christmas Eve dinner and I had to decline. I had a meltdown the day after Christmas. A week later, (another New Years Eve) he told me he had started dating a girl from IN. I felt shocked, hurt, dismayed, betrayed, angry, helpless.

January, 2009: Had my pastor and his wife over for dinner. We had a really great talk and I was challenged by a question posed: "How does a person change his/her thinking when they are used to thinking about themselves in a certain way?" In other words, how do I go from thinking of myself as a spouse in relation to R and thinking of myself as a single person? From that point on, I started stating out loud that I am single.

I started teaching a developmental psych class for my alma mater. Two classes under my belt. Think I'm gonna like it.

So now you are up to date with the basics of my life over the last year or so. For some of these things I plan to go into more detail over time. I just needed to get back into this for now. I know that it's not likely that anyone I know will be reading this anytime soon. I guess that's okay. Not sure I'm ready for some of them to know so many intimate details. But at the same time, I don't want to allow the enemy to use shame to keep me quiet, especially since I have been forgiven and I know that I am FREE in Christ! That is my identity. Not one of guilt and shame. So here we go. Hold on everybody!

We're Baaack!

2007-06-01T10:35:00.001-05:00

Many of you may have been wondering where we've been these last several months. We've been ever so self-protective. Unwilling to risk and share what's been taking place in our life. And frankly, I'm not sure that we have the energy to divulge too much right now. We're just thrilled that we could get back on to our blog. We spent much time and energy trying to remember our old username and password so we could link it to our new gmail account. Funny how some things just slip your mind. I'm sure somebody inside had all the info and was just laughing their asses off, watching the rest of us struggle with that. I hate it when I can't remember simple things. And not everyone inside is cooperative. So we made educated guesses and eventually hit the right combo.

Soon I hope to sit down and right about at least some of our ups and downs. Mostly downs, sad to say. There's this fear, however, that as we share painful things, others will be hurt in the process - people that we face regularly. We're angry and hurting and can't seem to get past it and we don't have the balls yet to tell them face to face. Some inside are so afraid of rejection that they just keep hiding their pain. Others have received the message all too often that their anger is unacceptable. So I guess the decision that must be made is whether this blog is for them or for us? By keeping my mouth shut, I'm letting them control me, something that has gone on for far too long in my life as it is. So the challenge becomes making decisions not based out of fear but out of choice. I can choose to post and damn the consequences. Let the chips fall where they may. It is what it is. And so on....Not posting doesn't change what's going on and maybe posting will change what's happening for me, at least.

I acknowledge that this post is much less coherent and fails to really have a point. But I just wanted to do something to get my voice back. So we're on our way. More soon.

Strings that Strangle

2006-07-22T09:07:00.000-05:00

One reason I appreciate blogging is b/c I can use it as my personal soapbox - to discuss things that I don't have a forum for in other settings. So here's my latest pet peeve...giving with strings attached.

Recently, I was approached by a family member on my husband's side. She and her fiancee live together and are raising her daughter, his three kids, and their two kids. It's definitely a "his, hers, and ours" type of situation. They're both very responsible adults who are employed and going to school to better themselves. She was hospitalized three times in the last six months, without insurance, resulting in a tremendous amount of debt. By the time she called me, they were five days away from being evicted. She had tried, unsuccessfully, to get a loan. The father of her oldest daughter had completely screwed up her credit. Her fiancee has never established any credit. She was turning to me as a last resort, hoping that I could co-sign on a loan. I knew that was impossible, but my husband and I talked about it and were able to give them some money - certainly not enough to cover the back rent that they owed. This was not a problem for us. I felt great in being able to give from what the Lord gave us.

Silly me, however, mentioned that our church has a benevolent fund, from which they help people in need. I volunteered to check and see if they would be able to help. This fund was set up a few years ago and as far as I was aware, it was to help ANYBODY with a financial deficit. My husband contacted one of the committee members and explained the situation. At one point, that committee member talked to me to hear my take on the situation. I explained that rather than an out-and-out presentation of the gospel to this family member, I was working at establishing a relationship with her. I also stated that I thought our church giving a monetary gift to complete strangers would send a powerful witness to them. At the time I was told that they were uncomfortable with giving money towards rent because they were "living in sin," and the committee felt that they would be sending a wrong message. They wanted to meet and pray with, and minister to, this couple and somehow find a way of communicating that living together is not God's way. In and of itself, I can see their point. I was also told that the money was really for members of our body and that smaller gifts could be given to those outside the body. They weren't saying, "no," they were simply attaching strings to giving this "gift." The committee discussed it again and came back with the same answer. They couldn't give them any money without insisting they meet and pray with them.

C'mon. Webster's defines gift as, "something voluntarily transferred by one person to another without compensation." Isn't salvation a gift? We had nothing to do with receiving the gift of salvation. It was something that Christ did for us when we were still strangers, enemies, and sinners. We didn't have to jump through hoops to get it. Don't misunderstand - at no time did the committee say that they would only give the gift if they agreed to stop living together. They only wanted to tell them that what they were doing was wrong. Great first impression of Christianity, wouldn't you say?

I think that the committee has things backwards. Christ initiates a relationship with us. Once that's established, the Holy Spirit convicts us of the areas in our life that need to change. The key is relationship. If that's not there, Christianity just becomes a religion of do's and don'ts. Even new Christians aren't inundated with, "Now that you're a Christian, you have to give up this, and change that, and don't foget to do such-and-such." Well, actually, some Christians are more concerned with that...too bad, because then we usurp the Holy Spirit's place in the person's life. The woman caught in adultery was told to "go and sin no more" after meeting Jesus. In that same story, Jesus told the crowd, "Let he that is without sin cast the first stone." Well...I want to say, "Don't get me started," but I'm going to get started.

Two of the committee members sit on their high horses making these decisions and insisting that they pray with people and inform them of "God's ways," while they themselves are malicious gossipers, sticking their noses into everybody's business, and praying prayers for people in such a way that they judge and condemn them b/c they personally don't like what certain individuals are doing, not b/c it goes against God's will. And you know what? If it were almost anybody but these people, I would have found a way to honor the committee's request. However, with these two, I firmly believe that it would have caused more harm than good. Okay - enough said.

One might ask for additional Biblical support for my position of giving in spite of what the person is doing. How about Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding in Cana? Isn't it quite likely that there were at least a few people who were already drunk? And yet, He still did it. Was he condoning drunkeness? No. Did He insist on talking to those people first, before creating more wine? No. Or how about when Jesus fed the 5,000? There is no way that every single person in that crowd was living a righteous life. Still, He fed them without strings. How many of those were in the crowd shouting, "Crucify Him!" shortly before His death?

In Matthew 26 Jesus talks about the difference between sheep and goats. The sheep are those who gave something to eat or drink, invited in strangers, clothed others, and visited those who were sick or in prison. Anytime this was done for "the least of these, my brothers" it was really being done to Jesus. The goats are those who saw these needs and did not fill them. I will grant that Jesus says, "my brothers," indicating that these things were done for other believers, but this passage is also used to support ministries helping unbelievers, as well. In that vein, I would add "helped keep a roof over the heads of six children and two adults whom I was trying to reach through you."

Our church is supposed to be committed to helping those in crisis. It's part of our vision statement. I don't know about you, but being a few days away from eviction pretty much qualifies as a crisis. Here's another way of looking at the situation - it's a crisis that they're living together because it's sin, but the bigger crisis is that they don't know Christ. What is more important? Giving a gift while telling them that we don't agree with what they're doing or giving a gift in an effort to imitate Christ's giving His life to reconcile us to Him?

How about common grace and saving grace? Louise Berkhof says that common grace is, "…(a) those general operations of the Holy Spirit whereby He, without renewing the heart, exercises such a moral influence on man through His general or special revelation, that sin is restrained, order is maintained in social life, and civil righteousness is promoted or, (b) those general blessings, such as rain and sunshine, food and drink, clothing and shelter, which God imparts to all men indiscriminately where and in what measure it seems good to Him." (emphasis added) http://www.mbrem.com/calvinism/commongrace.htm I've seen him protect life and send miraculous healing to those who are not saved. Put another way, God gives some things even to those who deny His existence, hate Him, couldn't care less about Him, or worship something that is not Him. His purpose in doing this is because it's His kindness and goodness that leads to repentance.

The last I heard, they were still in their apartment. The small contribution from me and my husband was enough to show their intent to get caught up with rent. Beyond that, however, I think that the Lord is hearing my prayers, asking Him to be Jehovah Jirah to this family, in spite of the fact that they are not yet saved. Too bad that our church couldn't see their way clear to being a part of His plan. Let's not forget that in the giving, one is blessed. What a blessing our church missed out on. When the time comes, they will not be able to say that they played a part in the salvation of these two people and their children.

Round One

2006-05-15T11:34:00.000-05:00

Round One took place this morning via voicemail. I was working out when the phone rang. Although I couldn't really hear for sure who the caller was, I immediately felt on edge. Within seconds I found myself praying in my prayer language and at times I felt very threatened and my praying increased. When the caller was done (actually she was cut off due to limited space on the answering machine), the praying subsided. However, I felt very drained of energy and had to cut that portion of my workout short. I checked caller id and sure enough, it was good ole' mom. I knew it was essential to prepare myself spiritually, mentally, and emotionally before listening to the message, so I went through the second part of my workout and even took a shower.

During that time I examined the emotional responses I had in just suspecting that it was my mother calling. I realized that the most overwhelming emotion was fear. That, in and of itself, told me something. They were terrified just to hear her voice. Insiders felt very afraid that "they" would come and get them, and that they would get into trouble because they were telling and talking about this stuff.

I expected anger. I expected something from my father. What I should have been prepared for, but wasn't, was what I've been getting all along - my weepy mother. I tried to listen from a position of emotional distance to pick up on inconsistencies and ideas that sounded good, but when picked apart, masked something else. Overall, I think I did a pretty good job. I kept feeling myself getting sucked in, but then would come to my senses and pull back.

The jist of what she said was this:

1. My letter was an answer to prayer. (How in the world could accusations of the type I made be an answer to prayer?)
2. She defended her phone call to my pastor's wife as having been looking for my pastor because she was soooo worried about me and didn't understand why I had pulled away. (This is actually a twist on what I had been told by my pastor's wife.)
3. She explained every conversation and visit with my mother-in-law has having legitimate reasons having absolutely nothing to do with me. She went on to blame my mother-in-law for continually bringing me up in conversation. (In some ways, I can certainly see my mother-in-law wanting to try to fix things, even though she has no idea what has gone on, but my mother was certainly not innocent in this. The last note she sent me stated that she intended to call my mother-in-law to find out our daughter's graduation date and future plans. When our house was being built, my mother was supposedly invited by my mother-and brother-in-law to see it. While I was initially angry with my in-laws, my mother should have respected my request to leave my family alone and realized that it would be a huge invasion of our privacy.)
4. It was apparent from what she said that she has been talking with my younger sister. This sister said that she took ONE psychology class in college (15 years ago) and said that the words I had used in my letter were exactly the words used in her textbook. There's only one place that this could go - that I've been changed through secular psychology. (Oh my gosh!!!! Of course I'm going to use the proper terminology! How else would you phrase "satanic ritual abuse" and "mind control programming?" And ONE class? Sure - she's the expert now. Sorry to burst that bubble, but the memories started coming while I was still in core classes like English and Science. In fact, I can't really recall, even though I'm now in my master's, any discussion in any book or class about ritual abuse.)
5. My mother said that they would like to meet with me. They want my pastor there because they know that he's my friend and they want my oldest brother there because they don't want any misunderstanding. (Interesting that they would demand what THEY want when I clearly stated in my letter that I would meet with them on MY terms.)

What is glaringly missing from all of this is my father's response. Although my letter does not allocate blame to one or the other specifically, wouldn't he be the likely candidate who sexually abused me? So why is it that he, thoughout these last five years, has kept silent, with the exception one short letter (which was so insignificant that I don't even recall what it said)? And why has he not weighed in on this last, most obvious indictment of his character?

I admit that after listening to the message, I was temporarily thrown into confusion. What had I done? I had made a terrible mistake and was now going to be shown up as a fool. Not only that, but I would have to spend the rest of my days making amends for the horrible accusations I had made and the years of torture I had put my family through. I was undeserving of such a patient and loving family. I got far away from the phone and sat at the top of the stairs and let all the voices inside have their say. It became apparent that many younger parts were picturing themselves going back to the family and willingly becoming "yes" people again. "Yes, mommy. Yes, daddy. You're right and we're wrong." Along with that came another picture of not having a life independent of them. I would not finish school. I would not work. I would simply live for my family (and I don't mean my husband and daughter). Other parts saw the flaws in my mother's words, but their influence was not as strong as the younger ones. So I prayed. And I believe that God said, "Hold firm. Do not waver. I will show you if and where you are wrong." The last sentence did not seem to be about the abuse itself, but more about specifics of memories and understanding that are yet to come.

The fact that I'm dissociative and have all these different parts is, in and of itself, a telling sign that the ritual abuse did, in fact, take place. Go figure. If there is nothing else to hold onto, that is still apparent. My insiders have not gone away.

And to all my insiders: GREAT, GREAT JOB! YOU HAVE DONE A PHENOMENAL JOB OF WORKING THROUGH EVERYTHING TODAY! I AM IMMENSELY PROUD OF EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU FOR TALKING AND LISTENING TO EACH OTHER AND SHARING HERE AND NOT LETTING "THEM" GET THE UPPER HAND. WAY TO GO!

Mother's Day

2006-05-14T14:26:00.000-05:00

What the f*#@ is Mother's Day, anyway? Every year it brings up the same feelings and I'm reminded of how much it sucks. I'm raising this kid who more often than not can't stand me and so much time has passed that I really can't stand her, either. I feel like the worst mother on earth. All my thoughts of her, all the time, are negative. In no way do I present the perfect or even good picture of what it means to be a mother. I'm not the one that she runs to in times of trouble. I'm not nurturing. She doesn't confide in me - even a little. No. I'm the disciplinarian. I'm the realist who bursts her bubbles. I'm the one who tries to get her to think beyond the end of her nose. I'm the one who is overly critical. I'm the one who is unforgiving. I continue to hit my head against the proverbial brick wall by wanting a relationship with a person who has made it clear time and time again that she doesn't give a shit about me.

Our family attends church together every Sunday. It's not like we're a traditional family by any means. We all drive separate vehicles and get there at different times. But it's something we do almost every Sunday. Today, she and I were supposed to be there early for worship team practice. She was still sleeping when I left. She never showed at all. I felt like a complete idiot sitting through this service where the message was about mothers and I don't even know where the heck my kid is at. She obviously didn't consider it important enough to be there with me on Mother's Day. When I arrive home her car is there but I have no idea if she is. It's been an hour and I still haven't seen her. There's a card on the table for me that's would be funny if we had a good relationship. But since we don't, it just hurts. Inside are two photos that she's taken for her photography class. She's pretty talented and I'm immensely impressed with some of the pics she's taken. But c'mon. How much thought, time, or money went into them? None. It's not like I expect her to spend money on me to make a gift good. But when I see her spend money on everyone and everything else and I don't get shit, I'm just a tiny bit upset. The least she could have done was to get a cute frame - wouldn't have cost more than five bucks. She works two jobs, for pete's sake. This, of course, is on top of the fact that my b-day was last month and all I got was a card. Not even an attempt at a gift. While back in September, she spend quite a bit on my husband's birthday. She always seems to be so thoughtful with him, but for me, her attitude seems to be "whatever."

And something else that bothers me is that no one ever seems to remember that my motherhood was stolen from me by the "group." Margaret was a real, flesh and blood baby who was mine. No one ever takes into consideration that I had a child so many years ago. Her existence goes completely unacknowledged today, as does the fact that I still have not been able to conceive. The idea of having a baby now brings with it mixed feelings, but not a single soul even thinks about the fact that a struggle exists.

And how about my own mother? The woman I thought gave birth to me, the woman I have called mom my entire life, isn't really my mom. My oldest sister is the one who actually gave birth to me. She died in 1999 from breast cancer and I decided to visit her grave today. I told no one. Simply brought a single rose (which all the women in church received today) and spent a few minutes there. She had two miscarriages during her marriage so she was never called mother. I was suddenly struck by how her motherhood was ripped from her not only through those two miscarriages, but also because our true relationship was never acknowledged while she was alive. So we've both been robbed of the privilege of being called, "mom." Her headstone reads, "Beloved wife, daughter, sister." I made a promise today that there would come a day when somehow she would publicly be known as my mother.

I had a moment of horror this week when I realized that I was sending my letter (see my One Step at a Time posting) so close to and it would probably be received before Mother's Day. "Happy Mother's Day, Mom!" What a kick in the teeth! At first I felt tremendous guilt and almost postponed mailing it. Then insiders pointed out that they took my motherhood from me. They went on to remind me that my real mom was lying in a cemetery 45 minutes away. Therefore, we owe this imposter nothing.

As I kneeled by my mother's graveside, I began to wonder what a mother really is. What is my definition? How would I describe one? I have never really taken the time to operationally define the word, but I have had absolutely no difficulty in berating myself for not being a good one. So the challenge before me is to think about and concretely describe for myself what a good mother is and come to a place of both forgiving myself for my shortcomings and congratulating myself in the areas in which I've excelled. I suspect that I've been guaging my success at parenting by how this child I've been raising is turning out and by how much she loves (or doesn't love) me. So it is now time for me to turn my attention to this matter before I allow anymore misplaced guilt to illegally take hold.

One Step at a Time

2006-05-12T15:03:00.000-05:00

In 2001, I took a first step towards extricating myself from the hold my family had on me. I sent a letter, stating essentially that God had been doing a healing work in my life and that in order for Him to go even deeper, I needed to separate myself from them for a time. I respectfully requested that they honor my request for space and time by not contacting me, my husband, or daughter. About a month later, shortly after Christmas, my mother arrived at my workplace, bearing the gifts bought with oh-so-much love for me and mine, even though we had not spent the holidays with them. After declining a niece's wedding invitation, I received an irate phone call from a brother (not the niece's father) berating me for being so selfish as to turn my back on the family in such an insensitive way. Through God's grace I was able to stand my ground.

Three years later, a second step was taken - I met with my mother and father in a public restaurant, simply to break the ice. I had no intention of discussing anything of importance at that time. I only wanted to open up communication so that I could prepare myself to talk with them at a later time about what I knew. (Little did I know it would be another two years.) True to form, my father tried to forcibly take control of the conversation. Again, the Holy Spirit enabled me to respond in such a way that empowered all parts of myself and not allow the enemy an inch.

Here, now, is the third step. After much deliberation and several rough drafts, I have finally composed and mailed a letter to my parents and siblings. The act of simply deciding to do so has freed me just a little bit more. I anticipate much backlash. However, no matter how I try to anticipate the form it will take, I'm sure to be wrong. Will it be an angry phone call? Or perhaps a placating one with tears, trying to understand how I could think such horrible things about them? Or maybe an angry mob with torches at my front door. It is quite possible they will attempt to play my husband and I against each other, yet again. Some inside secretly fear that they will garner his support and attempt to have me committed.

As you will read, the letter states that I am willing to discuss this further "on my terms." The trouble is, I don't know what those terms are at this point. It also indicates that there is the possibility of yet a fourth step that I must take. Will there then be a fifth or sixth? Will it ever end? And should they want to talk about it, what will be their aim? To tear apart whatever I say? To confess and ask forgiveness? To seek reconciliation? To demand an apology?

While there is so much unknown, this I know: I have done the right thing for me at this moment in time. Regardless of the fall out, I do not regret having done this. My life is forever changed.

Here, then, for your consideration, is The Letter:

May 9, 2006

Dear Mom and Dad,

Every month you send me your church newsletter and sometimes include personal notes. You always remember birthdays and special occasions. Outwardly, these things appear so nice and sincere, but they belie the truth of what has gone on behind closed doors.

First of all, there has been a consistent dishonoring of my boundaries. Despite my request for space and time to work through some things, you continued to contact me, both by mail and in person. In addition, at times you have circumvented me completely by contacting my mother-in-law to gather information. Not only that, but you have contacted my pastor’s wife to glean information, as well. To some it would communicate a deep love and longing for your daughter and be completely justified. However, true love respects another’s requests, regardless of whether they are understood or the hardship they place on you. Your behavior indicates that you have been more concerned with how this has affected you than with what I have been going through.

Second, our family has been built on lies, deception, and manipulation. My childhood was littered with physical and emotional abuse, coupled with an extremely controlling parenting style which allowed for no deviation from your ways of thinking and living.

It was so important to present a perfect exterior to the world, but underneath was another reality – that of sexual and satanic ritual abuse. I know that through you I was involved in rituals done in the context of satanic worship and had mind-control programming forced upon me.

Attending a Christian church as well as a Christian school and being indoctrinated with the Bible at home were all designed to train me to take my place within the cult while maintaining a cover of being a good Christian, above reproach and suspicion. I praise God that what was intended for evil has been redeemed and used by Him to rescue me from the kingdom of darkness and bring me into eternal fellowship with Him.

I cannot imagine that this letter brings too many surprises. Instead, it is finally vocalizing what’s likely been suspected (the sexual abuse) on some level. My desire in writing to you now is two-fold. I recognize that time is growing short and I feel an obligation to stop perpetuating the secrecy that has been a part of our lives. Also, I’m hoping that given the opportunity, you will confess and renounce your misplaced allegiance and align yourself fully with the true Lord Jesus Christ.

It is natural for a daughter to want to have relationship with her parents. However, I see no way for this to happen without acknowledgement of what has taken place. My prayer is that God will make a way for you to see Him for who He really is. While I choose to forgive you, I will not place myself or my family in harm’s way.

I am willing to meet with you in person, on my terms, to discuss this further. Please do not contact either Randy or Victoria, Randy’s family, or anyone else who is a part of my life. I am sending a copy of this letter to my brothers and sisters so that they will have an accurate account of what I have brought to you, and to minimize any twisting or misunderstanding that may occur.

Praying for God to break through,

Evaluating Ideals

2006-03-23T17:51:00.000-06:00

I recently was forwarded an email with several pictures attached of those who have chosen to alter their bodies. The message attached was essentially "Thank God they're not our kids." What, exactly, does that mean? Does God judge us based upon our outward appearance or does He look at our hearts? He's a creative God, isn't He? So why would His creatures be any less creative? I certainly can't speak for what motivated these people to get piercings or tattoos. That's between them and God. I have tattoos and piercings. Perhaps mine are simply more mainstream and therefore accepted by the dominant culture. But should they be?

It makes me angry to think that as Christians we perpetuate society's ideals without critically evaluating them. We even fall back on the Bible as justification for our opinions. For example "our body is a temple of the Holy Spirit." (I Corinthians 6:19) Yes, it is. Here the Apostle Paul is talking about sexual immorality, however. And how many Christians still choose to pierce their ears or color their hair? Or get facelifts or liposuction? Or drink and smoke? Or eat fast food five days a week?

Here's another. "Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves." (Leviticus 19:28) The context is not considered. These things were done in pagan ceremonies and to "secure the attention of their deity" (NIV footnote for Leviticus 21:5). So do we just assume that everyone who gets piercings and tattoos are doing it for religious reasons? And what about those Christians who get tattoos of crosses or fishes to make a statement of their faith?

Seems to me that our time as Christians would be better spent challenging the status quo instead of perpetuating it. Even in Christianity there is no cookie-cutter style and that makes some people extremely uncomfortable. We want to be able to recognize brothers and sisters by how they look instead of how they act. Wonder what that's all about?

Leaving

2006-03-19T16:25:00.000-06:00

Why is it so difficult to following through with leaving the husband? Neither he nor the niece we've been raising really care about what we're going through. Things keep going from bad to worse. She's a bitch, using people for whatever serves her purposes. There's no give and take, only grabbing for whatever she can get her hands on. She demeans and belittles us so that she can feel better about herself. No respect. And oh so narcisstic, angling for what can best suit her purposes. She's sweet enough to make your teeth hurt one minute and the next, she's so vicious you feel like your teeth were kicked in. You give and give but every once in a while lose your temper, verbally assault her, dish out what she's given. All anyone remembers are the bad things you've said and done. Never amazed at the sacrifices you've made so she could have a better life, let alone grateful. And he's so whipped by her that he continually allows himself to be taken in by her batting eyelashes and incessent wheedling. "She's had such a hard life," he says. That justifies giving her whatever she asks for and condones whatever she does. Neither are capable of accepting their part in whatever bad takes place in their lives. We're the easy scapegoat. And when they join forces, it's enough to make me want to die, or get drunk, or cut, and sever my losses and run like hell.

So I begin to make plans for my life that don't include them. And as I do, I'm struck by the major changes I will face. Changes that they won't have to do deal with. Why should I be the one to move, leaving behind wonderful, treaused animal companions who have been a source of life and comfort for years? Why should I have to think about not making ends meet? Why should I give up the yard with the view that takes your breath away? Why should I be the one to reinvent myself? Their lives will continue as if untouched. Perhaps even better. She won't have anyone to interfere by setting limits and boundaries. He won't have anyone to be responsible to or nag him about his drinking. And the effects of the abuse, which cause instability within us and rapid switching of alters, is the perfect excuse for them to say, "See. It wasn't us...she was crazy!"

What will we really be missing? Intimacy and partnership does not exist in the marriage. There is no emotional or spiritual support available from the husband. We're verbally attacked often. He has pulled away through drinking, work, and his family. There's little cooperation in raising this child we've taken in. There won't be any mother-daughter conversations because they've never existed. Whatever offsping she produces will barely acknowledge me as grandmother, if at all. Her future spouse will view me as a shrew since that is how she paints me. I will continually feel like an outsider looking in on their father-daughter relationship. So why do we stay? He provides a good home. Makes sure that a roof is kept over our head and food on the table. There are clothes to wear. He's a good provider. I don't look at him as a meal ticket. It's just nice to know that he's responsible in that way. He wouldn't be fair, however, should a divorce ensue. He'd try to take everything he could get.

So other parts raise cautions. Get scared of the changes. Fear of not making it on our own keeps us from moving forward towards freedom and chain us to this place and these people. Still others move deeper into hopelessness and despair, realizing that the only out seems to be death. Those parts aren't able to survive where we are and certainly can't survive out there on their own. There are too many dissenting opinions so we're left frozen, right where we are. Our tongues stuck to the flagpole, unable to rip it loose for fear of the pain and loss.

Can we hold out for another few years until we complete school and get a job - just to be self-sufficient? Can we wait until the older two pets finally pass on so when we leave, we can start again? How do we traverse the next 730 some odd days without it becoming so bad that we wind up dead instead of free? We are invisibly bound to one another. How long 'til those are broken?

Songs that Speak

2006-03-15T17:08:00.000-06:00

Alanis Morisette has really been speaking to me of late. Not the new stuff, but the old stuff. She has a way of telling it like it is. She doesn't pull any punches. You hear exactly what she's experiencing and she's not afraid of letting you know it. One of her songs, You Oughta Know, calls to something deep within me. Sure, there have been a lot of guys who led me on, got what they wanted, then dumped me, but it seems more current and certainly deeper than those petty high school hookups. I've come to realize that the husband is having an affair. Not with another woman. No, his mistress is a golden amber liquid which promises to alleviate his pain and allow him to hide from the world. He says he loves us, the wife, but is unable to make the choice between alcohol's tantalizing call and us. According to Rush, he has made his choice, hasn't he. So, here's to him and his lover:

You Oughta Know
I want you to know that I'm happy for you

I wish nothing but the best for you both

An older version of me

Is she perverted like me

Would she go down on you in a theater

Does she speak eloquently?

And would she have your baby

I'm sure she'd make a really excellent mother

Chorus:
'Cause the love that you gave that we made

wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide, no

And every time you speak her name

Does she know how you told me you'd hold me

Until you died, 'til you died

But you're still alive

And I'm here to remind you

Of the mess you left when you went away

It's not fair to deny me

Of the cross I bear that you gave to me

You, you, you oughta know

You seem very well, things look peaceful

I'm not quite as well, I thought you should know

Did you forget about me Mr. Duplicity

I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner

It was a slap in the face how quickly I was replaced

Are you thinking of me when you fuck her

Chorus:
'Cause the love that you gave that we made

wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide, no

And every time you speak her name

Does she know how you told me you'd hold me

Until you died, 'til you died

But you're sill alive

And I'm here to remind you

Of the mess you left when you went away

It's not fair to deny me

Of the cross I bear that you gave to me

You, you, you oughta know

'Cause the joke that you laid in the bed that was me

And I'm not gonna fade

As soon as you close your eyes and you know it

And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back

I hope you feel it...well can you feel it

Alanis Morissette, Jagged Little Pill, 1995

The next one could be a multiples theme song. Or at least mine. Like a diamond, there are a myriad of facets that make up the brilliance of who I am in my entirety. Certainly it brings confusion to those around me, but take out one little part and I wouldn't be who I am. Instead, I would be flawed and less than what I was created to be. Every part is invaluable.

Bitch

I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change
Tried to tell you
But you look at me like maybe
I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet
Yesterday I cried
Must have been relieved to see
The softer side
I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything
All rolled into one

Chorus:
I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way

So take me as I am
This may mean
You'll have to be a stronger man
Rest assured that
When I start to make you nervous
And I'm going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change
And today won't mean a thing

Chorus:

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover

I'm a child, I'm a mother

I'm a sinner, I'm a saint

I do not feel ashamed

I'm your hell, I'm your dream

I'm nothing in between

You know you wouldn't want it any other way

Just when you think, you got me figured out
The season's already changing
I think it's cool, you do what you do
And don't try to save me

Chorus:

I'm a bitch, I'm a tease
I'm a goddess on my knees
When you hurt, when you suffer
I'm your angel undercover
I've been numb, I'm revived
Can't say I'm not alive
You know I wouldn't want it any other way

Meredith Brooks, Blurring the Edges, 1997

Too Much

2006-02-23T08:04:00.001-06:00

It all gets so confusing at times. Trying to keep track of everyone inside. I don't feel like I'm doing a very good job. Kind of like having a family. How do I respond to everyone's needs without neglecting my own? Half the time I'm not even sure I want the job. So I start ignoring them, focusing on what I want, instead. Trying to be normal and just get through life. Fake it 'til you make it, right? Pretend that you're doin' just fine and maybe it really will be. Or I just give up and say, "whatever!" I can't figure out who's feeling what or thinking this or that and just when I think I understand, something else comes up and throws a huge kink into it all. There's no rhyme or reason to it all, or if there is, I'm sure the hell not seeing it. Being the go-between is a scary job with too much responsibility. What if I can't communicate accurately what someone is thinking or feeling. What if I put my own spin on it all w/o even realizing it? How can I be objective when I'm looking at my own life that doesn't really belong to me....I'm just a part myself?And then there's this switching, or shifting, that I think goes on without me even realizing it. I go from being too tired to try anymore to being the perfect go-to person for the ones inside - helping them sort through things, callin' on Jesus, praying for others - and I stop short when I realize that I don't want to be doing these things, so why am I? Is there a perfect one inside who always has to do the right things or is that one me? Is there someone who just keeps pushing us forward, even when we don't want to go? I can't figure out where I stop sometimes and others start. Which, in DID is the whole goal, right? Which sucks in and of itself. Who says that we want to "fuse"? Who says we want to become "as one"? Who says we want to integrate? I remember watching a movie about someone with DID when I was much younger, way before I knew anything about this crap. Wish I could remember the name of it. The only part I remember was the ending. The client showed up at the therapist's house and I think he or she was wearing a t-shirt. Either the t-shirt or the client said, "2-4-6-8-we don't want to integrate!" I remember thinking - hell yeah! Obviously there were parts inside who knew we were DID way before I did. And right now, most of us aren't thinking that we want to give up autonomy and join together. What's wrong with a democracy? What's wrong with a meaningful, working relationship? No one's arguing about the need to cooperate, but everyone likes to have his or her own voice. And if they don't like the general consensus, they can go to their room or raise a stink and campaign against it. Everyone feels like they have some say. Most of the time. Right now, I think, we're not quite there, but that's what we want to work towards. Besides, it will get lonely without everyone to talk to. I'm never alone, my thoughts are rarely quiet 'cause someone always has something to say or a song to keep singing over and over and over again, ad infinitum. See, even right now, I feel a difference coming on b/c I am taking the alternate position of wondering if we'll feel the same after we get our memories back and and we all share them. After we're all "healed." And it feels so wrong to want to let everyone stay separate if that's what they want when Jesus' goal is for us to be the whole person that God created us/me to be? I don't like saying me b/c I really feel like an us. Don't misunderstand. There have been two parts from a couple of years ago that have already become less distinct. I really don't think they're separate anymore. The lines between the three of us are less demarcated. I'm not even sure I could still communicate with them the same way I used to. And that's okay. If someone wants to join up, more power to 'em. But they shouldn't be forced to. Ya' know, I'm learning a lot. I think I pushed one of my teenagers too far a couple of years ago. I don't even remember what things were like for her or what her memories were or anything. I do remember she really liked Aslan from the Narnia Chronicles. She'd never read them before and when she did, she cried. The image of the lion was very important to her. The movie didn't do justice to him and we were all very disappointed. It sucked. I brought her for prayer and deliverance and she was even baptized. Now I find out that the teen I recently got aquainted with is an offshoot of the original teen. How does that happen? I asked my ISH and she said that the first teen split into the second teen b/c she/they didn't know how to deal with all of it. So part of her joined with me while another part was created that holds the memories. And this is the "new" teen that I'm getting to know. And to her, the image of the lion must be pretty scary b/c she told someone that she feels like she's getting dragged to the lion's den and is going to get eaten alive. And her choice of words was deliberate. So I guess the moral is, "Don't push for more than they are ready to give. Let them initiate. Or you'll end up with even more parts than what you started with." Which brings me back to my original dilemma - it gets so stinkin' confusing trying to keep track of everybody inside.

To Be or Not to Be

2006-02-05T15:20:00.000-06:00

"The psychoanalytic theories of suicide prove, perhaps, only what was already obvious: that the processes which lead a man to take his own life are at least as complex and difficult as those by which he continues to live. The theories help untangle the intricacy of motive and define the deep ambiguity of the wish to die but say little about what it means to be suicidal, and how it feels."
A. Alvarez, The Savage God, 1971

Is suicide a viable choice? There is a part that knows God and therefore knows hope. Or does she? Isn't it more about "doing the right thing?" Suicide is a sin. Not a mortal sin that would damn one to hell, but a sin, nonetheless. We've been told in the past that only God is allowed to make the decision about life and death. That seems a bit unfair.

I say that there is no life here, so shouldn't I be allowed to take it if I so choose? There is no protection, no safety, from "them." The husband is ignorant of the true nature of the abuse that we suffered and the very real threat of physical, spiritual, and emotional damage that is imminent as he pulls away his covering and protection. It is up to me to make sure the littles are not destroyed and the only way to do that is to take our life before they can.

Not only is his lack of covering a problem, but his attacks upon our memories is unforgivable. The accusation that we're going crazy or being deceived by demons is more than we can bear. We were told repeatedly that we would not be believed - the stories are too outlandish. His vascilation between belief and unbelief is torturous. It sends the littles into a frenzy...they've told and not been believed - now there will be punishment for talking.

Therefore, all of the options must be seriously considered. And one of those is suicide. It's actually a noble decision, carefully thought out. It is not impulsive. It is taking lives to save lives. Saving them from hell here on earth - and possibly hell for eternity should "they" decide to kill them anyway. So it's best to make sure we think this all the way through.

An Open Letter to My Teenager

2006-01-17T22:58:00.000-06:00

This letter is not to my daughter. Rather, this letter is to a teenage part of me, of whom I am especially proud:

Dear Teenager,

I just want to let you know that I feel so privileged that you shared as much as you did with me today. That took guts. I can see that you are very strong and you're a survivor. You've taken shitty circumstances and made them work for you so far. But you're also lonely.

I know that when G asked you to look into Jesus eyes and the demon's eyes, you didn't want to. I know you were afraid that if you saw their eyes, the choice would be obvious and you're afraid of making that choice. What's more, I know that I didn't help, either, by being afraid of what your choice would mean for me. Screw the consequences for me. You deserve to have a voice. You deserve to have a life. You deserve to be known...if that's what you want. You deserve to be safe.

You and I both know very well that where you're at now is not safe. Being between them and the others is no protection at all. But you don't even have to see Jesus' eyes to know that He's good and full of love. That He's safe. You can feel it just by Him being close to you. He's been close to you for a long time. But you're afraid that the people with Him will reject you. Especially if they know what you know. And what you've been involved in.

I will not reject you. I repeat. I will NOT reject you. No matter what it was. I want to know what they did to you. I want to know what they made you do. Whatever they told you, it wasn't your fault. I admit that I'm afraid I'll be rejected by those who love me. When they find stuff out, they won't be able to look at me, or I'll be exposed to others. But maybe we can take this one step at a time. I'll listen to you and I'll risk it with one person. Just one. And if that goes okay, we'll tell one more. It's scary for me to say it, but I will risk their rejection so that I can have you. You are more important than any other person. There has been no one there for you ever before, but I will be the first. This is public, so there's no going back for me. Whatever comes, I will stand by you.

And now you have two hands extended to you...mine and Jesus'. You think that "thing" whose hand your holding is safe. At least known. But I can tell you from experience, it's not. It's a liar. It makes you think that it won't hurt you, only other people, but it's really feeding off your cutting. The cutting makes its hold on you stronger. I can tell that you really don't want to let go of its hand. That's okay. You think it follows you around because it cares about you in some way, like a dog. But that is soooo not true. It's connected to you and it won't let you go, not unless you take hold of Jesus' hand. Or mine.

Just know that when you're ready, Jesus and I are here. We will never force you into anything. And we will protect you. We will love you. We will never leave you. And there are other parts who can't wait. They're excited. They've been watching you for a long time, wanting to comfort you and be your friends. There's safety where they're at. Maybe that's a middle ground for you right now. Be with other ones inside. Let them teach you about how to really be safe with Jesus, and how to guard yourself against the hurt that can come from people's ignorance.

I love you with all my heart. I said it earlier, but I just feel like I need to say it again. I WILL NOT REJECT YOU...EVER!

Waiting expectantly,

me

1/18/06 9:00 a.m.

I finished this letter about 8 hours ago and finally went to bed, exhausted, at 1:30 am. I lay awake, searching out this precious part of myself to see if she had any reaction to my letter. I found her quickly and she said two things. "I was there," and "I saw what they did." Then she proceeded to let me see a very brief image, that is still not clear, but was an indicator of her willingness to trust me, and in turn trust those in whom I have placed my trust. Some of you know who you are.

While this was happening, I suddenly realized that the surroundings in which I had seen her earlier, had changed. She was no longer in "no man's land" between them (the cult) and the others (those who call themselves Christians). She had let go of the demon's hand and grabbed hold of both mine and Jesus' hands. It happened so quickly and imperceptibly that I didn't even realize what had transpired until it was over. The demon was left, standing by itself. I stood behind my teenager with arms wrapped around her, and Jesus stood by our side, His arm draped protectively over my shoulder.

I told that demon it had to leave, asked my teenager if she agreed and all she could do was nod her assent. That was enough. One look from Jesus and it was gone. It went back to "them." One more tie with the group has been severed. I am in awe at how quickly, how smoothly, and how thorough Jesus is.

What's just as amazing is the response of the younger parts inside. They range from little kids to older teens. They cheered and practically dragged this teenager into their midst to hug her and congratulate her and welcome her. The contrast was striking. Every one of them had on white shirts and shorts or pants, while she was in dark, dirty clothes. They didn't care. They had once been dressed like her, too. Her dirty clothes will be traded out for white ones like theirs. She's found a family. She's found a place where she's safe.

Only Jesus could accomplish something this huge. Only Jesus could create those connections. Only Jesus could have been working for a very long time behind the scenes to make all the necessary preparations. Only Jesus can transcend all that hinders and holds back. Only Jesus' love could make all of it happen.

Jesus - my teenager and I thank you!

And for those of you who are pray-ers, please pray that she'll feel safe enough to tell what she knows because I think she will play an important role in bringing the enemy to his knees.

Margaret - In memoriam

2005-12-26T19:41:00.001-06:00

Margaret Mae

"great child of light"

Born: May, 19??

Died: ????

I don't even know where to start. The emotions, the grieving, are still so disconnected from me. They belong to another part of me, one I am just getting to know. In her mind, she sees a tiny baby girl with smiling eyes and chubby cheeks. Coupled with that is an image of a curly-haired two-year old being ripped from her arms. There is an aching void that can't be filled. She has been holding these emotions at bay for many years. There's a tremendous fear that if she dips her toes into this enormous ocean of pain that she'll drown. Better to stay on the beach where it's safe, but the water is beckoning. She's wondering if it's finally time to risk the plunge. Remembering is dangerous. And painful. I want to hold this part of me and give her answers, but I don't have them. She questions why it had to happen, and all I can say is that they were bad people. Her angst is mine, and yet not mine.

Fragments come and like individual puzzle pieces, don't make sense until they are all connected and the whole picture can be seen. So much unknown. So many questions. How can you comprehend the incomprehensible? How do I convey what's inside so that you, the reader, the voyeur into my life, can grasp the magnitude of what's happened, when I myself can't wrap my mind around it?

What I know is that Margaret deserves to be remembered. She deserves to be recognized as a living being. Her life deserves to be acknowledged, regardless of how short it was. And the blame needs to be placed squarely on the shoulders of those who took it.

For them to snuff it out as if it didn't mean anything is bad enough, but to say it was our fault, that's reprehensible. How can there be an expectation that a young girl will produce the perfect child? It is God who creates and knits together in the mother's womb. He forms each life with care and precision, lovingly crafted. Yet, in the secret, dark places, there is self-blame. Shouldn't a mother have done more to protect her child? Shouldn't she have sacrificed her own life to save her child's? She doesn't deserve to be a mother. She can't be trusted with another child. But since all the circumstances have not yet been revealed, there is no way to refute these lies. They were more powerful. They were cunning and deceitful. They placed impossible demands on those who could not fulfill them.

Who are "they?" I'm unable to go there, to that place of acknowledging who "they" are. Better to keep them as strange enigmas - faceless, nameless. It keeps it from being too real. They still hold so much power, yet they have lost just as much - thank God! His Spirit is gently leading us into more truth.

Who is "us?" I'm a multiple. I proudly admit that I had the strength and courage to survive for the simple reason that God gave me the ability to split into different personalities. Without that, I would have been left with little choice but to lose my mind or die. His grace to me is unfathomable. His mercy even greater.

Part of living, rather than just surviving, is the ability to appreciate the difficulties that life brings. At times, I actually find myself thankful for what I've experienced and life as a multiple because I know that it has made me who I am. I know, too, that God had a plan from before I was born, to use my life as a testimony to bring healing and freedom to many who have experienced similar abuse.

As I move deeper into the waters with those parts of me who are overwhelmed and afraid, I hope that I can find whatever is there to be thankful for. The gold nuggets among the mountains of feces. Margaret's life is one of those gold nuggets, and as I dig through the stench and waste, I have to believe that there are more.

12/29/05

I was cleaning out drawers today and found an old book of poems that I had written in 2001. I started reading through them and I was caught off guard by one in particular. At the time I wrote it, I had been cleaning the kitchen in our home and there was a fly, still alive, caught in a spider's web. I found myself sobbing inconsolably on the floor, wondering why it was affecting me so deeply. I realized, today, that I was really writing about Margaret. Even before I knew of Margaret's life, part of me was crying out, expressing the pain over the loss of her child. This poem was previously untitled, but I think an appropriate title would be The Cycle of Life:

The fly entangled
in the spider’s deadly web,
crying out in fright
and anticipation.
Panic, confusion.
No real comprehension
that this is the end.
No one can save him.
He cannot save himself.
The more he works
the less free he becomes.
I cover my ears so I will not hear
- but his death screams
pierce my heart.
Helpless, I weep as I see one
struggle for freedom.
Stop the struggle!
The struggle ensnares!
I long to reach in and pluck
the helpless creature
from his deathbed.
But the damage has been done.
And the cycle of life would be broken.
I sink to the floor and moan
as I struggle to understand
the horror of death and helplessness.
Creatures who seem to be created only for food,
to feed those bigger than itself.
Is that its sole purpose?
Is there nothing special about this tiny creature?
It’s own purpose to fulfill?
Or is it just food
- to be eaten and forgotten?
As if it never existed.

9-8-01

To be continued...

Welcome

2005-12-22T10:27:00.001-06:00

Welcome to all who visit this site - whether purposely or by accident. What I want it to be is still developing. I'd like it to be a place that speaks truth and educates, a soapbox at times, somewhere to express what goes on deep within me, and ultimately a vehicle to bring hope to those who are struggling.

I expect that you will be privy to my own struggles, which will not be pretty. When I'm in the midst of a particularly difficult time, it can be ugly. Those who know me may be surprised. Eventually, however, I always come back around to being firmly rooted and grounded in my relationship with God. That's what ultimately holds me together. I was exposed to God through church and school growing up which resulted in lots of head knowledge, but it wasn't until I was 28 that I finally understood that He wasn't some angry Being waiting to hit me over the head as soon as I screwed up. I was blessed to have a pastor and his wife who have led me into the truth of what it means to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. They also began teaching me about the reality of the spiritual realm. I now know that God was preparing me, through them, to come face to face with my own personal demons and a dissociated history that I could not have imagined in my worst nightmares.

God has been kind, giving me only little bits at a time, so as not to overwhelm me (although at times I question His wisdom). I've found that I am a multi-faceted person, with many different aspects often contradicting each other. It's disconcerting to have memories surface that seem so nebulous and disconnected.

The clinical term for what I experience is "dissociation." Dissociation occurs as a result of severe trauma in which the mind can't handle what is happening and separates itself from the event. The event then is relegated to the unconscious. Dissociation can take place on different levels. A person can "forget" the event itself, the emotions, or the physical sensations associated with it. When all of these take place simultaneously, the result is a completely dissociated memory.

Dissociative Identity Disorder (also known as multiple personality disorder) occurs when the trauma is severe, prolonged, or repeated. The mind actually separates into distinct personalities/alters/parts whose responsibility is to hold the memory away from the conscious so that the individual can function in everyday life. This functioning, however, is on a continuum. For example, at the one end, she may be an addict with string of broken relationships and unable to hold a job, while at the other end she may be a successful businesswoman, homemaker, or student, with nothing to hint at the atrocities underlying the wonderful veneer that's been developed for all the world to see.

I hope that you will visit often and hopefully take away something that may make your life a little better than it was before. Be blessed.

WarriorBride