by Band Back Together | Jan 20, 2015 | Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Psychological Manipulation, Self-Esteem, Suicide |
I guess I am not your typical abuse survivor. I still hurt from the turmoil that I have gone through, but I will not ever allow it to control me or change how I feel about me. Healing myself was ugly, hard work, but I did it.
I thought a long time about no longer allowing myself to be angry with this person. I still have an emotional response to the memory, but I chose to learn from where I had been in life. I understood both sides of the coin. The first step was learning and accepting that I did not have to allow those things to make me feel like I was the worst person on the planet. It is not easy to let these things go, by the way. Healing the wounds of the Soul is very dirty, very ugly, very personal, and of course, very hard work.
Yet, it is work that is well worth the effort because it helps us to grow into who we are meant to be. It takes time, patience and lots of acceptance of ourselves with all of our flaws. It is not for the faint of heart. Judging from the things that I have learned, I find that the only thing that is missing for a whole lot of people on this planet is NOT the balls to do anything, but rather the permission.
It seems kind of weird to think that we would need to permit ourselves to feel one way or another. We have been taught to turn the other cheek and “take it like a man,” and when we did, we just ended up getting hurt.
I was not meant to be someone’s target, but that is how they win – by our being so damned down on ourselves that eventually, the control that they have wielded for so long finally makes us sick enough in the soul to end our own pain. If I did not choose to let my abuser’s own sickness of the soul further permeate my soul, I would have probably done something very bad to myself, and would not have even tried to start my own healing practice (which, that is what I am in this lifetime – a Medicine Woman. My first client was me). Had I not decided to stop the ongoing recording that was his voice, and then eventually my own voice agreeing with him, I would not be here to tell anyone that there is another way of looking at what you have gone through.
I am not saying that you have to literally make amends with whoever it was who hurt you, but you can make amends with you, over what they did to you. You can heal yourself through meditation, art, journaling, through a whole lot of different things. You can go on to be everything you want to be, in your own life.
The reality is that we have all been through a whole lot. The thing about verbal or emotional abuse is that, whatever is being said, is not the truth.
This is the beauty of the other side of things, the part that, when we are in the throes of all the things that we need to escape, is that WE are who create ourselves. We are lucky when we are afforded with the chance to recreate ourselves after we have been what seems as though an eternal wounding. It only stays that way if you let it stay that way. This is one of those things that we are not taught. The sting from it all is not forever. You can create a new thought about it.
Creating new thoughts about anything at all is how this consciousness was created. We were all and each created in the image that is that of Love, not division. What abusers like to do is divide us from all that we know, and then eventually, from all that we are. They do not want us to be who we are – they need to create something that they can call their own. We, on the other hand, have the chance to create beauty from the excrement left by the abuse. It is the other side of the coin, really.
Sure, we can choose to think about our abusers as the pinata at a birthday party, but that just creates within us a negative energy like them. It is our downfall that we feel the need to convince our abusers that we are not the bad person that they have told us we are. It is not up to us to convince anyone else about who we are. We only need to be able to see ourselves as lovable and worthwhile.
Think about it. The thing that makes us all want to cry are the things that are said that hurt us. Okay fine. BUT, the thing that makes us crazy is our trying to convince anyone else who we are. If it is not the truth, it is not the truth, and no one can change that. Truth is truth, no matter what, no matter what anyone else has to say about you.
You went through what you went through for no other reason than that you loved someone else. It is okay to accept that you have come a very long way. You are no longer required to believe what you were told. You alone have walked the fire, barefoot and without anyone there to teach you how to not get burned.
The grass is not greener anywhere else. No one tells us about the messes that they make. They only point out the messes that we have had a hand in helping to create. When we stop thinking that the grass might be greener, that we could have done something different, this is when you would do well to remind yourself that grass does not grow in cement, but only up through the cracks which reveal the truth of the ground beneath it.
There are a lot of ways to think about being abused. One day, the only thought in your head will be that you survived it, and that the rest of the world can kiss your sweet okole.
Aloha!
by Band Back Together | Dec 22, 2014 | Bringing the Happy Back World Tour, Happiness |
I recently heard about a sad story. (Don’t worry, it has a happy ending.) An artist at the tattoo shop I go to has a son who suffered brain trauma at birth, among other things. He is probably only a couple of years old. He can laugh and smile but that is about it. He can’t walk or talk, and he needs a feeding tube to eat. He is such a precious child though.
The tattoo shop decided to put on a fundraiser to help him get life-changing medical treatment. They had raffles and $50-100 tattoos of awareness ribbons. They called it Ribbons for Silas. I went and got a ribbon tattoo and a few raffle tickets to help as much as I could for this little boy. My tattoo is green and teal for Bipolar awareness and Sexual Abuse awareness, and it’s probably the most meaningful tattoo I have. It is beautiful. Here it is!
Now remember I said it had a happy ending? Well the tattoo shop was able to raise over $7,000 for Silas! I am so happy I was able to a part of the success! Now Silas can get the medical help he so desperately needs and deserves!
by Band Back Together | Dec 19, 2014 | Child Sexual Abuse, Shame, Uncategorized |
I’ve been keeping this a secret for years. The only thing I know is how to keep it a secret. I was molested as a child by two people, different times and no one in my family knows. Not my mom. Not my dad. Not my brothers.
How do you open up about this to someone you love? How will they believe anything you say? How will they believe you after all the years that has passed? Why is it easier to let your best friends know, but not your family?
I don’t want to tell my family because who knows what will happen after. I’m scared. I’m scared they won’t believe me and call me a liar. I’m scared what they might do to them.
But I still want to tell them. I just don’t know how. If I tell them, it’ll set me free. A huge weight lifted from my shoulders. This is probably the one thing keeping me from moving on.
It hurts me to hurt my family, but it hurts me more to keep this from my family. I think about it too much when I shouldn’t, but I don’t know what to do. I’m clueless.
by Band Back Together | Dec 18, 2014 | Anxiety, Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, Cyberbullying, Depression, Feelings, Happiness, How To Heal From Being Bullied, How To Help A Loved One Who Self-Injures, Self Injury, Teen Bullying, Teen Self Injury, Therapy |
I was in the third grade when I was given my first labels.
“Whale.” “Fat.”
I hear it now, as I did six years ago.
Still I hear it ringing through my ears, wondering if it is the truth.
Years later I think to myself, do they know how hurtful those words are? Do they know I still think of it? Do they know that every time I look in the mirror, those names, those labels comes to mind, along with many others.
If they do, if they did, would they still have chosen to say that, or would they go back and erase it?
I wonder.
Fast forward three years.
Just starting middle school, a new school, a new beginning, a new life. Right?
Wrong.
With a new school, comes a new bully, new names.
“Bitch.” “Slut.” “Ugly.” “Poodle head.”
The names go on.
And the first time in my life, I feel helpless.
I feel trapped.
Because now, not only were they attacking verbally, but now they attacked through social media.
Helplessly, I admit defeat, and call for help.
Therapy for one year.
It helps.
I stop going.
No more bullies …for now.
One year later.
Half-way through the terrible mix.
Not an adult, but not a kid.
You’re changing in different ways.
Discovering new things about yourself.
Life is great …until they come again.
A new army of bullies ready to take down their first victim.
“Idiot.” “Fat.” “No good.” “Dirty whore.” “Lame.” “Loser.”
Those were the nice ones.
One more year…
Once again, a new year, a new bully
This time it’s worse.
“Thunder Thighs” is the only thing I was called.
One name, twice the pain.
I pull out my razor, to help relieve the mental tension.
Trying to replace mental pain with physical pain.
It works …for a little while.
One year later.
I am now clean.
Going through therapy.
Recently diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety,
This puts a toll on my family.
I try and push through it, as I’ve done for years.
Apparently, I’m a great actress,
Fooling everyone around me that I am happy.
But now, I no longer have to pretend…
I am getting help.
Even though it hurts sometimes…
And those awful memories flood back.
I have self control…
I am seven months clean.
Still with urges, I manage to throw away my razor, and speak up.
With help from my family and friends, I am on the road to recovery.
Because after all, my disorder doesn’t define me.
by Band Back Together | Dec 17, 2014 | Anxiety, Depression, Loneliness, Suicide |
A man I met on the internet is planning his suicide. I’ve never met him in person. He bought a rope tonight. He seems like a nice guy, has a dog and a job. He set the date to end his life. I don’t know what his hair smells like or which cigarettes he smokes. He told us he is taking some time beforehand to say his goodbyes. Tonight has been spinning.
There is nothing quite like the plight of another to bring you out of your own mental suffering. My anxiety, my depression, my broken relationships, all of it can wait. This stranger needs me. I think he went to sleep. I wanted to talk to him, but he wasn’t there. I messaged him for an hour- just ramblings. Thoughts on the topic including my own attempt. I told him about the drugs I am on, the exercises my counselor has recommended. I told him about the song I use to get through the winter, and the blue light device my husband bought me to help. I don’t want to leave him alone- even if he hates me for it- because alone is the worst way to feel.
I don’t know this stranger friend. Yet I want to save his life. I want to hear his heartbeat more than ever now. I want to feel how he feels in a hug. He is kind. He’s funny and witty; he knows things that he teaches us. But he is broken. He is broken in a way we can all relate to. I don’t know any underlying cause for his depression. He doesn’t need one. He doesn’t need to explain himself to anyone. Everyone should try to help him. No one deserves to feel so low that their only escape is permanence.
I would like to meet my stranger friend one day. I just didn’t expect it to be so painful.
