Stephanie Gagos

BIO

As a child I was physically, emotionally and spiritually abused by my mother as well as sexually abused by nine men. The sexual abuse began when I was eight years old and continued till I was fifteen. As a result of my early sexualization, at sixteen I became a mother without the slightest idea of how to mother. My father then took me away from my mother and gave me a chance at a new life. Despite the change in environment, I struggled greatly with believing in my worth and even more with the role of mother. My education seemed to be the only thing I could have control over while I lived an internal turmoil that would not let me loose. By the time I was 25, I received my bachelor’s in English Literature and later received a Masters in Elementary Education. I immersed myself in the growth of my intellect, trying desperately to prove that I was good enough. With a 3.875 GPA, I could at least pretend to be “somebody”. I reacted to my world through the eyes of a traumatized and damaged human being despite my outward accomplishments. I could not get over my feelings of inadequacy and I continued to abuse myself and close myself off to the love of others. While my deepest desire was always to be a writer, I went into teaching instead, believing that I was not good enough.

It wasn’t until my thirties that I understood the toxic hold of my past and the many ways it kept me hostage. Healing was not even a concept I could in any way understand till much later on. Since my father was a psychotherapist, I understood the psychological damage of my childhood and so it was natural for me to begin my journey with therapy.

I began therapy at 30 and it was the first time I revealed all of what happened to me. I continued with this therapist for seven years and learned that I had major depression. With the help of some medication and ongoing therapy, I was able to function and began to see progress. I found that revealing the abuse to others - family, friends, even some close colleagues was liberating for me. I started thinking about writing letters to my abusers after a few years in therapy which later would be the genesis of my memoir. When I moved to New Jersey, I joined a support group of women who were victims of sexual abuse/assault as children/and or adults. For the first time I was learning to trust women, a major difficulty for me for most of my life. At thirty-five I started writing my memoir, perhaps the greatest healing tool of my life. Through writing I’ve learned to validate myself and my experiences and understand the true gifts of my past. By actively working on my thinking, I am learning new ways of thinking and being, and new ways to seeing the world. Each day I am learning to reinvent myself, to trust that I am more than I ever dreamed I could be and that yes, I am worthy, I am good enough.

Today I am an aspiring screenwriter and author. I look forward to all that life has to offer me. While I still struggle with believing in myself, I’ve grown immensely by using multiple ways of healing (therapy, connecting and trusting others, writing, telling my story, self reflection, immersing myself in all things positive through inspirational books and audios) I see my healing as a journey, a way for me to grow into who I truly am.

~ Stephanie's Contact Information ~

Email:       Stephanie@myvoiceoftruth.com or
                 Stephanie@letterstomyabusers.com

Homepgs:

                                      MyVoiceofTruth.com


                                     Letters to My Abusers

  Q & A

1.  What is your favorite coping skill?
I would have to say writing, be it journal writing, prompt writing, narrative writing, lists or self reflection exercises. Anything that helps me go within and learn more about myself helps me cope with my world in a better way.


2.  What was the best piece of healing advice you ever received?
Focus on how far you’ve come instead of how far you have to go. Give yourself credit for all the ways you have survived and thrived despite the abuse.


3.  What was the worst piece of healing advice you ever received?
Move on. Most people who tell you this, mean well, but have no idea the long lasting effects of abuse. If it was that easy, we all would move on. It also comes across as condescending and insensitive. At the same time moving on is something we all need to do but only after effort and time spent in the healing process.


4.  What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?

1. The engrained patterns of thinking brought on by the abuse are especially strong and tenacious and require that we actively work on creating new beliefs and new ways of thinking.
2. The trauma we hold in our bodies catch us off guard at times, seem so involuntary as we react quite strongly to stimulus that reminds us of danger, of the pain of the past. I am still in the process of figuring this one out but awareness is key. Knowing that our bodies hold trauma and identifying our triggers is helpful.
3. Thirdly, the memories, the ones that never leave us and remind us constantly how difficult it is to just move on. I don’t believe we will ever rid ourselves of the memories but changing what we made those memories mean about us can lessen the heartache of it all.

5.  Have you ever hit "rock bottom"? What kept you going?
Yes, a few times, but having a child was exactly what I needed to keep me going during the times in which I did not find myself worthy enough to continue on for me. Having a dream also helps. The wanting, the desire, keeps you alive.


6.  What does forgiveness mean to you?
Forgiveness means that I can somehow find it within me to understand on some level that those who hurt me were in pain themselves. It does not justify or minimize what they did to me, but helps me to understand my own humanity and frailties as I have also made many mistakes. Allowing myself to see my mother as a sad and wounded human being instead of as the monster I believed her to be for so long, helped me to forgive her.


7.  When did you know that everything was going to be okay -- that you were going to make it?
I would say about two years ago when I was introduced to the law of attraction. I felt liberated in knowing that I can create my reality, I can choose what I attract into my life and that I have more control over my life than I ever thought possible.


8.  Is there anything that you would like to say to someone just beginning their journey?
Start with learning to believe that you are greater than you know and that this journey is a journey of discovering who you are underneath the lies of your childhood. What we were taught about ourselves through the abuse is untrue and it is up to us to uncover the true beauty of who we are.


9.  If there was one piece of advice you would give, or one thing you would want the significant other, best friend, etc. of 
a survivor to keep in mind through out the survivors healing process, what would that be?
When your partner reacts or overreacts, understand that they are responding from a wound that is in need of healing. Don’t take it personal. Ask them how are they feeling? Listen. Love. Support them.

 POETRY

Dead Bones

At night

I am reminded

Of your

steely touch

grasping

my small body

Your hands

Are dead

bones

forever

pressing

against my

Skin

Reminders of

unspeakable

violations

I pray

for them to

crumble into

dust

I pray

for the memory

of you

to end

By: Stephanie Gagos

Stephanie has added two new articles to our Survivor Journal and they are must reads!  Please click on the links below.

 

 Abuse Survivor Series:  Using Overreactions to Begin Healing Our Childhood Wounds

 

 Self Esteem:  A Necessary Component For Survival

LETTER

NORMAN

Norman was an x-ray technician at a major New York hospital.  My mother seemed to like him and we often went to see him at his job in between her many doctor’s appointments.  The following occurred on the first and what I believe to be the last time he visited us. 

Dear Norman, 

I remember your white lab coat and how you worked at a hospital in the city.  You were kind and pleasant, even humorous.  I remember how you tried to talk to me and how I shied away from you.  Then one day, there you stood at the doorway to our apartment dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans, your eyes grinning beneath your bifocals.   As usual my mother was still getting ready when you arrived.   I was to be your host and so I showed you to your seat and asked if you wanted a drink of water. You didn’t and instead you rambled on speaking words I can never remember.  I think you made me laugh because I could feel myself moving closer to you.   My mother called out to you, promising to be ready soon.

She was absent just long enough for you to molest me. 

As I sat on the marble coffee table in front of your hand rested on my knee.  You continued to talk to me even as your hand made its way up my skirt and into my panties. As soon as you started to touch me, I could no longer hear what you were saying to me. One by one my senses shut down, leaving only this strange sensation between my legs.   I could feel myself go numb, removing my self from my body, attempting to pretend that IT wasn’t happening.

You heard my mother and stopped. Jolted by fear, I quickly went to the carpet and sat in front of the television.  I pretended nothing happened but inside my heart was pounding and in between my legs the sensation of your fingers was still there.  I felt as if I was the one committing the crime. There were no thoughts in those moments between the first and the second time, just the voice of my mother, calling out once again that she would be out soon. 

I could hear you get up, your pants swishing, a determination in your step to once again molest me.  You came to the other side of the marble table and sat on it, motioning me to stand in front of you.  There as stood before you, you proceeded to touch me again between my legs. You placed my hand on your crotch and that is where my memory fades.  As with most of my memories what happens afterward is a blank. What did I feel directly afterward, days and weeks later? What did I say to myself? How did I survive? Perhaps it was in the stoic numbness that I found my comfort.

For years I imagined that you and the others happened upon an opportunity to molest me, but the more I learned about men like you, the more I realized how planned our encounter was.  It wasn’t until my thirties that I came to the realization that you and the others chose me long before you entered our home, long before you dared to place in between my little legs. As you asked my mother for a date, it was me you were after.   I was the plan, already marked as  less than human, an object chosen by you, for your satisfaction, wthout even a thought or care about what it would do to me, the girl, the human being.

 And when my small body responded to you, I’m sure your twisted mind took this to mean that I wanted it.   This is part of how you pretend to be sane and live an otherwise normal existence while you creep your filthy hands up little girl’s skirts. You imagine this unique connection. You imagine that this little girl likes you and wants you.  That she is your girl,  your special girl, there just for you and only you. 

I’m here to tell you, that little girls want you as much as they want needles in their eyes, as much as they want to be set on fire or drink rat poison and die. Men like you delude themselves into believing that we are loving and wanting you back, when all that we are doing is escaping your touch; by going far, far away to a place where you cannot touch us, where your insanity cannot reach.

I now speak for the little girl I once was and that little girl never wanted you to put your dirty hands on her.  She could never want you sexually or otherwise.  All you did was create a physiological reaction, no wondrous feat.  Nothing a real man would need to be considered a man.   What you did to me goes beyond the fact that you molested me in those moments in my living room when I was ten years old.   What you did forever changed who I became, who I trusted, who I gave my love to and how I walked in the world.  Among the many parts of me you altered, you changed how I would feel about myself as a sexual being; making my attempts at normal sexual interaction futile and corroded by your violations of me.   For years I would feel guilt about being turned on, about wanting to be close to someone sexually. 

You did that.   

You don’t deserve that kind of power. 

Today, I choose to change how I look at myself. I choose to reclaim the power I've given you for so many years. I release the heavy darkness that comes over me when I think of you. I release the shame and guilt for having responded to you physically. I release the sadness over not being protected and not being able to protect myself. I release my anger and hatred of you, knowing that it will take time to let it all go.  I release the distrust I have in all men because of the evil you showed me on that day.   

As of today I embrace the sexual woman that I am and have every right to be.  I embrace my divine right to my sexuality and love for my body.

I choose to take back my power and relinquish yours.

 From now I on I decide who I become, who I trust, who I choose to love.  I decide how I walk through this world. 

As for you, you are like a dead man walking, a wasted life that could have been a light to others.  There is the shame.

~ Stephanie

I don't know what ever happened to Norman.  Like most of the men in my mother’s life, he did not stay beyond the first or second date.   As I look back I can see how robotic I was and how routine it seemed for him. He seemed fearless and unashamed; I, guilty and afraid.  Even upon becoming an adult, there is this emotional confusion despite being intellectually clear about who is at fault.  I used to wonder why I didn't react?  How could I like what he was doing to me?  I felt unsure for years about how to read people. How does one know who to trust when bad men smile so gently, arouse so softly?  

    For years I would wonder where was the seduction, where was my resistance?  How could I have been so friendly and trusting having been molested before?  How could I ever trust myself? These questions would haunt me and I blamed myself for getting too close, for being “too friendly”.  I blamed the little girl I was instead of putting the blame where it belonged.  In retrospect I can see how deep my conditioning was to respond in a certain way, to not question authority, to accept abuse, to take on the blame. I was schooled in passivity early on which later became an engrained trait.  I learned to stay very still and quiet as my abusers produced either pain or pleasure to my body. I never wanted to get in trouble or make things worse. By the time Norman came along, the perfect conditions were in place for him to safely molest me.

While writing this letter I uncovered some of the anger and distortions that still existed within me. Some of the wording of previous drafts was modified to reclaim the power I gave him as an adult. It is just the beginning of the work that I must do, but it is a start.  Just being able to say that I was letting him go was difficult in and of itself but the more I grow and discover all the love and power inside of me, the less space I have for the bitterness.  I am working on forgiving him still.

All Words & Poetry Copyrighted  by Stephanie Gagos
© 2007

Eden R.

BIO

My name is Eden and I’m a 30 year old survivor of Childhood Verbal & Emotional Abuse, Date Rape, Sexual Assault which led to pregnancy and a subsequent abortion, Relationship Violence, and cross-country Stalking. Those are simply key situations in my past. Although they are a part of who I am today, they no longer define me. I spent many years mourning for the person that I was before those terrible tragedies befell me, but I am now in the midst of the awesome power of healing. I’ve taken all my labels, such as Self-Injurer, Anorexic, Bipolar, Depressive and tossed them in the wind. I no longer need them to define myself. As a survivor, I can be anything I want to be! I am taking that motto by the horns and delighting in each new day I get to live my life.

I now take care of my body as well as my mind. When my mind needs to write a journal entry, I allow it to do so. When my body needs to cry, it can cry as long and hard as it likes. When I want to sing and dance, I do so with all my might. If I’m feeling low, I make a cup of hot tea, snuggle up in a blanket, and read a good book. Healing means taking care of myself. I’m learning that it’s not selfish to listen to my body and my mind. It’s a must!

I have new goals in my life now that I never thought I would achieve before. My dream at age 22 (the year the date rape occurred) was to move to NYC and be a Broadway Star. I haven’t forgotten that dream. Although I wasn’t strong enough to move there after what had happened to me, I’ve never forgotten my dream. As it stands now, I am planning on making the move, 7 years later, after I finish up my one-on-one counseling. This is a dream I thought I’d never see realized, but with my new lease on life and after making the decision to stop living in the past and to start living in the present, I’m going to go for it! It won’t be easy, but nothing worth doing is easy!

Another dream that I have, is being realized right now. In May of 2006, in the height of my Rape & Trauma Counseling, I started my own website called Taking Back Control. It’s a resource for Survivors of any type of assault. There’s even a message board where survivors can directly reach out to other survivors to help each other along in their journey to true healing. I’ve met many amazing women through this site, and I look forward to many more years of advocacy in this medium.

~ Eden's Contact Information ~

Email:            edensurvivor@yahoo.com

Homepgs:   

                      www.taking-back-control.com

                      www.taking-back-control.com/board (Message Board)
 

 Article in Jane Magazine Featuring Eden R.
(Pseudonym: "Jessie" in article)

April 2007 Issue (Click to Enlarge)

Note:  You may need to save the jpg images below to your computer and then open them in any photo-editing program that you may use. Depending on your browser this may be neccessary in order to view the article pages in their entirety! 

Page 1

Page 2

Page 3

Q & A

 

1.  What is your favorite coping skill?
I never leave home without a rock in my pocket. If I’m feeling anxious or on-edge, I just reach in my pocket and squeeze the rock. No one knows it’s in there. Only I do. If I’m feeling particularly angry about something, I’ll reach in and try to bend the ends towards one another, which I know is impossible, but it still gets my anger out when I’m trying. I suggest that everyone suffering from PTSD keep a small pebble or rock in your pocket. They have some at Hallmark Stores with sayings like “Peace”, and they also have really neat painted ones called Light Stones on this website:http://www.healingbaskets.com/prod_4500.htm I own the one that says “Hope.”

2.  What was the best piece of healing advice you ever received?
My counselor told me that I could reprogram my body to react normally to stress and smaller traumas. I didn’t believe her at first. I’d spent so many years “flying off the handle” at seemingly minute traumas, because my body had been trained on that one fateful day that it was being attacked. For 6 years after my initial trauma, my body continued to behave as those it was being attacked. I didn’t believe it was possible to retrain my mind and body to react in a more normal state.

My counselor told me that I needed to relearn positive coping techniques instead of the negative ones I’d been using since the tragedy had occurred. Instead of starving myself for control, or cutting myself to feel the pain, I could take a hot bath to calm down, or wrap up in a warm blanket. If I was zoning out at work, I now had tools to fight that. I could tap my feet gently on the floor, or do visual labeling to bring myself back into the room. “I see a calendar. I see a light. I see a computer.” Once I incorporated these techniques into my daily life, they became habits, healthy habits! This piece of advice certainly saved my sanity and made me a true believer that I have the ability to alter my negative thinking! The results are amazing! I am not the same person I was a year ago when my healing journey began.

3.  What was the worst piece of healing advice you ever received?
It actually comes from my mother. On the night I was assaulted, she told me she had a bad feeling that I should just stay in that night, and not go out as planned. I told her I’d be fine. To this day, 7 years after the first assault, she still reminds me that she told me to stay in that night, as if nothing would have ever happened had I listened to her. It makes me feel like she’s telling me in a roundabout way that I got what I deserved because I didn’t stay in like she told me to. On one level, I realize that she probably can’t let go of this, because she feels guilty about that night, but what she doesn’t realize is that I did go out that night, but I did NOT deserve to be assaulted. Having her bring it up over and over again is detrimental to my healing.

 
4.  What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?

1. Truly believing, with all my heart, that what happened to me wasn’t my fault

2. Learning to think positively after years of thinking the worst about myself

3. Deciding to participate in life

5.  Have you ever hit "rock bottom"? What kept you going?

I liken the healing journey to that of climbing a volcano. I’ve slid down that mountain many times, into the lava below. Each time I reached a new understanding and a new footing on the side of the mountain, something else would come up from my subconscious that would send me reeling back to the bottom. At times, I was so sick from anorexia, that I was losing my hair. I could barely walk, but I kept going. “Left right. Left right.” I knew there had to be something better than the hell on earth I was living in. If I could just keep going forward, I could reach the top of the mountain and the lava would stop erupting. It happened for me. Perseverance is the key. Trust in yourself. You have it in you to make it up the mountain and skip down the other side!


6.  What does forgiveness mean to you?

Forgiveness of others has always come easy to me; it is self-forgiveness that eludes me. I guess self-forgiveness is realizing that I did the best I could in the circumstances in which I was placed. [writer’s note: I had to edit that sentence to personalize it. When I wrote it, I used the word “you” instead of “I”. I guess I’m still working on forgiveness!]

7.  When did you know that everything was going to be okay -- that you were going to make it?

In 2006, deep amidst my personal journal towards health, I decided for the first time in 7 years, that I wanted to live. Before that moment, I was continually starving myself, trying to delete myself a little at a time. I didn’t participate in the world around me, spending my time on earth in deep depression, closed off and alone. I wasn’t actively seeking to commit suicide, but I wasn’t actively trying to live either. One day, out of nowhere, it was simply time to make the decision to live. And to live, meant to start figuring out who I was now, not trying to get back who I was before the traumas occurred.

8.  Is there anything that you would like to say to someone just beginning their journey?

There is no right or wrong way to react to what you’ve been through. Sometimes you’re going to feel numb; other times you’re going to be very angry. Don’t ever let anyone tell you how to feel. Sadness, Anxiety, Anger, Rage, Shame, Guilt, Fear, Embarrassment, and Hyper-vigilance are all normal reactions. Let yourself feel them. Let them be “normal.” Be who you are and how you’re feeling. Only you and your body can decide your healing process. Let it happen naturally.

9.  If there was one piece of advice you would give, or one thing you would want the significant other, best friend, etc. of a survivor to keep in mind through out the survivors healing process, what would that be?

Check in with the survivor everyday. Leave them a phone message if they don’t answer that says, “I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking about you today. If you would like to talk, please call back and I’d be happy to make time for you. If you don’t feel like talking today, we’ll try again tomorrow.” Understand that they may need their space, but that they also need to know their support system is there if they need to take advantage of it. Small cards in the mail can help brighten their day! Send an e-card or an email. Don’t try and get them to tell you how they’re feeling. They’ll tell you when they’re ready. The best way to reach out and let them know you are willing to listen when they are ready, is to make small gestures of contact on a consistent basis.

POETRY


What Have I Learned?
by Eden 5/15/02

I've learned that love is never enough
That the past leaves gnarly roots, just dying to break through the surface,
That sometimes it takes a broken heart to snap you out of your stupor,
That falling in love can be scarier than death for some,
That sobbing is stronger than tears,
That salt deposits on your glasses can become normal,
That starving yourself can feel liberating,
That seeing your ribs can make you smile,
That cutting your arms can ease the fire inside,
That you can't make someone love you,
That you can't make someone show you they love you,
That actions still speak louder than words,
That happiness comes from within,
That you can't base your self-worth on the way others treat you,
That your heart can shatter into 85 million pieces,
That you can find someone that fits with you, spiritually, emotionally, & physically,
But who can't handle falling in love with you,
That would rather immerse himself in a younger girl to feel safer,
Whose voice can still activate the butterflies within you,
Who you wish was holding you on this, the day you were raped,
The day you were lured, and drugged, and held down, and violated,
And left to shudder in secret,
And lie to those around you, by not telling them what happened,
By taking extra-long showers, and getting trashed every night,
And being confused as to why you would sleep with someone who is not your boyfriend,
And weep behind closed doors, on bathroom floors, and in the car,
To tell him in an email why you don't want to be touched,
To constantly feel guilty for everything that happens around you,
To apologize before a crime has been committed,
To bury your anger for almost 2 years,
Before someone breaks your heart and sets you into a fury,
That turns into hate and rage for the guy that lured you, drugged you, raped you twice . . .

Some look at you with pity, others as though you are insane.
Some try to keep you occupied and hold your hand as you cry on the floor.
Sometimes you want to be left alone; sometimes you want to be held.
But the person you want to hold you is never there, never within reach,
Never keeping you safe.
And that kills more than being violated,
For the body can recover,
But the heart has a mind of its own . . .

 
Admitted
by Eden 5/23/03

I admit it
I starve myself
No one really wants to see a woman’s bones
Or a woman’s gaunt cheeks
Or her hair falling out
Or her pitted chest

I admit it
I wear unflattering clothes
In mismatching patterns
And sizes too big
And wrong for the season
Next to women of style

I admit it
I hide my hair
In a bun
In a ponytail
So you won’t see the red
So you won’t notice that I’m different than the rest

I admit it
I don’t want to be touched
Or looked at for very long
Or shown any kindness
Or given any sympathy
Or made to feel

I admit it
I am wasting away
I am ugly
I am fading into the crowd
I am always on guard
I am safe

Traitor
by Eden 9/10/02

My heartbeat, irregular,
My tear ducts in overdrive,
I’m dreading those eyes that will penetrate my soul.
They’ll know my secret even if no one else does.

Breathing in the sweetness of new life,
Feeling that tiny body wiggle,
Hearing those first tones of speech,
And knowing she is God’s creation.

But she is not mine.
Not mine to hold.
Not mine to love.

I’m being tried for treason
In a trial of my own making,
Looking toward the Heavens
For a glimpse of the angel I never got to hold.



Click to Enlarge

Lucky
by Eden 4/15/07

I've spent so much time trying to find the "before" me,
That I forgot to just breathe.
Not everything was taken from me on that fateful night.

I still have a song to sing,
And a voice to sing with.
I still have a life to live,
And I'm going to live it.

Now, I can reach out my hand to other survivors
And together we can find peace,
For we are the lucky ones,
The ones who lived to tell the tale.

LETTER

Here’s my letter, written to my anniversary date of the day I was date raped:

“Dear February 15th,

I can feel you looming. I can feel you in my bones. You're a part of me now. You have been for 7 years.

I used to be terrified of you. I used to cry and bawl and shake and fear you. The terror would start months before you were even in sight. I consciously knew you were coming and I waited for the worst.

I used to be angry with you. I was pissed that you even existed. I was mad that you had such an effect on me and my life. I subconsciously knew you were coming for months ahead of time, and was very conscious of you beginning January 1st. With fists clenched, I waited for you.

Now, I vaguely think of you on and off. It started in mid-January. With less than a week to go, I just feel sad. I'm not even sad in the sense that something so horrible happened to me. I'm more in mourning for the innocent girl I used to be. I'm sorry that she ever had to feel such a loss of control and the feeling of having her safe world disintegrate before her eyes.

It's not your fault that you exist, just like it wasn't her fault it happened to her, just like it's okay to admit that I am her."

All Words & Poetry Copyrighted  by Eden R.
© 2007

Eshanya Walls

BIO

 

I am Eshanya, I walk with Grace, & I am a SURVIVOR!

 

A survivor in/of many forms of mental, emotional, & physical abuse.  A survivor of negative situations, experiences, and mental illness. A survivor of myself when I used drugs & alcohol to self medicate from what I thought I could not endure, or I should say the lack of coping skills I had, the worthlessness I felt, and the pain I took on that, at one time, I allowed to take over me. My son at the age of 6 was also a victim of sexual abuse.  With that being said I would love to add that in my days ahead I will

 

continue to heal, fight, speak out and help others.

 

I can truly say that although I have work to do, I can now look at myself in the mirror and say, "Eshanya I love you for who you are and for what you have been through.  For the woman you've become and the courage you have always had, but that was tucked away. For the honesty you give, and for being the Mother that you are who is loved.  For fighting for the right and against the injustice that is in the world".

 

I am thankful to be able to share my healing with you all.  I also want to add that none of what I have been through was easy, in fact I see it as looking Hell in the face.  And although the healing is the hardest thing I have ever went through,  it is worth it, It is mine, and I am proud.

 

This is how I crossed the line from victim to SURVIVOR

I had been seeing a psychiatrist for my mental health, and I became addicted to the medicine they had me on.  I sought after a therapist, not any therapist, but THE THERAPIST.  My doctor recommended a woman named Sue. 

I made my appointment,  and thought to myself and prayed to the Lord, "This time around, I need to trust this one,  I need to connect with this one, and I need this person to truly know me, not just about me". 

I just needed someone to truly care.  So going in there to talk with her for the first time I had prepared questions for her.  I wanted to know her before she knew me. 

I thought to myself, "If she answers one question not to par then I will seek someone else". 

I was tired of life, myself, and of the pain and I would be damned if I wasted any more time.

 

What do you know?  She was blunt, kind, compassionate, and told me that if I continued to drink and abused medicine (by this time they pulled my meds from me) that she could not see me or help me.  Wow I loved that, someone who was to help me and who truly cared.  I became sober that week and remain sober still to this day.  That was 22 months ago.

 

After I got sober I searched the Indiana State Sex Offender Registry to find that the Child Sex Offender who molested my son was not listed, although I found him on the county site. 

I thought "If he is missing from the state site how many others are?" 

I stayed sober and did some research.  The numbers of missing names was overwhelming and it scared me.  I used my voice and made the South Bend Tribune news paper headlines on a Sunday (finally the person that was going nowhere made a humongous difference)!  I found a passion in life and realized that although all of my life had been negative in someway or the other,  I had finally found the positive, and pulled it out of me to help others.

 

I also use tools to help me now, and though it continues to be hard to break old negative habits, I still try with sincerity.  I meditate, journal, write poetry, talk, use essential oils, use daily affirmations, and continue to do research.  Now when the bad thoughts come in (and oh they have), and my anxiety is up, and I lose focus and can not concentrate, I just relax.  I also have found that, although I have cried my whole life, I still continue to cry and sometimes sob.  To find a narrow path is so hard and scary.  I sob to bring that little girl in me out so that the woman in me can hold her hand and bring her with me down this new, narrow path.

 

This is not saying that I will never forget the pain I've suffered, that I will never at times ignore the lessons I have learned,  or that I won't sometimes remain cautious of people around me, but I must learn to become the woman I was meant to be.

 

  I now have faith, positive thoughts, comforting words, honesty,

    pride, motherhood, good memories and myself.

  I now have the sun, and moon, time, pride, worthiness, smiles,

    laughter, compassion, and myself.

  I now have sobriety, coping skills, cleanness, prayer, my children,

    a future and goals.

  I now have Eshanya.

 

 

~ Eshanya's Contact Information ~

Email:             eshanyaw@yahoo.com 

Homepage:  www.myspace.com/eshanyawalkingwithgrace

 

 

Tribune Photo/JIM RIDER

Eshanya's Article in The South Bend Tribune

 

 

 

 

 

Q&A

 

1.  What is your favorite coping skill?

Remembering where I want to be in the future, and of the work I have done in becoming who I am today.

 

2.  What was the best piece of healing advice you ever received?

Now knowing that nothing that was ever done to me, which caused pain in me, was my fault.  And that I can do anything, but it will take time.

 

3.  What was the worst piece of healing advice you ever received?

I have to laugh at this question.  Which piece do you want (just kidding)?  I would have to say, when the psychiatrist I had after I was raped sat across from me, after I told him. His reaction was to sit there with his eyes closed and say,"Um hum...um hum...um hum", followed by, "How did that make you feel?"

 

4.  What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?

1)  My child's sexual abuse and the unjust in court

2)  Changing who I had become in life

3)  Trusting again

 

5.  Have you ever hit "rock bottom"? What kept you going?

Yes I have, more than once.  I kept going because I still had to live on this earth with my 3 children and I wanted the peace that others had.  I still to this day make it a goal to find peace in everyday

 

6.  What does forgiveness mean to you?

I have to be honest, I am still working on this, but I am learning that forgiveness is for peace within myself.  It is not saying what the other person/persons did was ever okay or right.

 

7.  When did you know that everything was going to be okay -- that you were going to make it?

When I was able to set boundaries for myself.

 

8.  Is there anything that you would like to say to someone just beginning their journey?

That what they have been through was/is very hard.  What they will go through in their journey is even harder, but it is worth it.  There is peace, happiness, and light in everyday and once you taste it, it becomes easier.  Never be scared of speaking out.  If you were not validated then validate yourself.  We have felt pain of many forms, but to feel peace only comes in one form.

 

9.  If there was one piece of advice you would give, or one thing you would want the significant other, best friend, etc. of a survivor to keep in mind through out the survivor's healing process, what would that be?

Do research on the effects of abuse and know what that person is truly going through or might go through.  Have them seek great professional help if needed.  Guide them , hold their hand, tell them they are not alone and to connect with other survivors, to never be ashamed of what happened to them, and that it is not their fault.  Hold them, let them go through the "grieving process" with you showing compassion, and understanding.  Help them grow into who they are meant to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

POETRY

 

Eternal Prayers

By:  Eshanya Walls

The room is gloomy, and takes on more,

there is a scene of pain and dread.

With her eyes closed by the blanket of small comfort,

scenes of dreadfulness flash in her head.

She trembles with her next thought

of confusion and despair.

But she wakes up in actuality

with visions here nor there.

Out of mayhem she cries out

for Angels to carry her voice

and whispers to the power above to comfort her

and help her make her choice.

"Why must I go on and carry this pain,

when I am still innocent and pure�"

My Child too many who will suffer the same,

you will one day be the cure.

The room fills with a light, that illuminates and shines,

from this day and forward on,

her peaceful path she will find.

 

Dedicated to S. Henderson

As child survivor of Sexual Abuse

 

 

My Name

With no moon to sleep, no sleep to rest -

I assume my name over and over.

No sun to blind, to awake, to take -

I assume my name over again.

No thoughts just sweat, fear, and remorse -

to assume a name in place.

No one here to receive my name. 

Did I even survive in their thoughts?

Time to shut down, not to arise for the sun,

and the moon doesn't keep.

No light to adjust to the darkness of night. 

Will it ever remember me?

Does it recognize the difference though

of course, it does not know me?

I assume my name, in time, in place,

or the sun and the moon do mix.

- Eshanya Walls

  June '04

 

 

Eternal Prodigy

In the shallow of the wind I heard a silent scream.

The meaning of God was disposed of

in the judgment of one's mind,

Invaded by the darkness that smothered the being,

An open hand of crystals that appeared to be dull...

A prodigy already existing in numbers,

multiplied, by hand in hand.

Eternal peace is with the beings,

with time never presented to them.

Eshanya Walls

Dec '04

 

 

All Words & Poetry Copyrighted  by Eshanya Walls
© 2007

 

 

 

 

LETTER

 

To the Woman who Gave me Life, My Mom

I remember looking up at you as you sang in church.  Your voice caught my attention and sounded over all the others.  Oh how I love you and how I loved that feeling of peace when you sang.

You are beautiful to me, strong, willed, and good.  You are my mom and you gave me a gift of life.  I appreciate my life Mom, and I was never able to tell you that.

I remember you saying "where did I go wrong?"  You never went wrong with me mom, you did your best,  and looking back on my life I now understand yours.

You were also a woman with pain, and I wish I could hold your hand and tell you everything will be fine in the end.  WE CAN GO THROUGH THIS TOGETHER and heal.

I know you are up there, looking down on me and proud of the woman I have found in me.  You encouraged me with your words while you were here, it was up to me to really believe them.  You did what you could, it took me to figure my life out.

I now understand the pain you felt for me and the tears you cried, but it was you who I learned from.  Growing up with the strength that I seen in you has truly help me at my time in need.

You placed morals in me and that truly was my inspiration to have those morals again.

Thank you for my life Mom.  Although it hasn't been easy, I can now say I love my life you gave to me.

Love your daughter,

Eshanya

Karen Marrolli

BIO

My name is Karen, and I am a survivor of physical and emotional abuse, mostly by my father. The “disease” seems to have run in the family and was passed on, as it so often is- from my grandfather to his children, then on to me. The twist in all of this is that my father was diagnosed as terminally ill with chronic nephritis when I was six months old. Judging from some of the events that I remember and those that have been described to me after his death, I have always been aware that I might have been killed had my father been well and lived. At the time he was one of the longest living dialysis patients ever, and he finally died a week before my 16th birthday. 
    
I was always a very “locked up,” introverted person- not because that was my real personality, but because I’d learned those behaviors to cope with my situation at home. I had no self esteem or self confidence, and I do not trust others to be in my physical space. An important step in my healing came before I even admitted that what I had experienced as a child was abuse- I encountered the conductor James Jordan, who directed our freshman choir at college. Seeing the way he was able to put himself up there and “connect” to the choir was an eye opener for me, although I did not realize why at the time. I continued to learn about conducting and the combination of vulnerability and strength required to be successful. This was going to be difficult for me! I remember a specific conducting class in which Dr. Jordan had me conduct a piece by simply grasping each person’s hand in the choir and making eye contact with them as they sang. There were other lessons with other teachers, including one strange instance where I had to conduct standing on the piano and another where my otherwise mild-mannered professor vehemently challenged me to finally start taking myself seriously as a musician. I had all the talent but no confidence! I flourished as a solitary composer but struggled continuously as a conductor charged with leading others. 
    
Finally, the moment came, although it was a moment in my personal relationship that influenced every other aspect of my life from then on. Pushed for albeit innocent closeness from my boyfriend at the time, I had a bit of a breakdown. That was the first moment that I described to anyone what had happened to me as a child. Suddenly, it made sense- yes, what happened was NOT normal. And it WAS affecting me. It was affecting everything I did. I found that “saying it out loud” was an important step in healing, and I was to do it many more times after that moment. I still am not afraid to do this today if it will help others, be it in print or in a candlelight vigil with numerous onlookers.
    
With the understanding I have gained I continue to grow as a person, both in my dealings with others and as a conductor and a professional. In 2000 I moved to Charleston, SC and formed a small volunteer chorus to sing a candlelight vigil for Child Abuse Awareness Month in April. The vigil took place in the historic Porter’s Lodge, off the Cistern at the College of Charleston, and continued there for several years before moving to a bigger park, then finally indoors to beautiful Grace Episcopal Church. The concert intersperses poems written by child abuse survivors (including my own) with choral music that reflects the sentiments expressed in the poems. The evening is truly a journey “from darkness to light” and has helped others to process their own abuse as well as to educate the community about the effects of abuse. 
    
I feel like I was called to conducting not only to struggle with my own demons but also to create an event such as this that can be an inspiration to others needing comfort. I am a totally different person and conductor than I was in my days in undergraduate and graduate school- some would say unrecognizable. As I prepare to start a new chapter in my life (doctoral studies) it is interesting to reflect back on what I have accomplished as a survivor. I want to continue the Child Abuse Awareness Month concert wherever I may go and to find more ways to network with therapists, organizations, and survivors. I would like as much as possible to help survivors to work through past issues by encouraging personal submissions of poetry and artwork to be included on the concert. The more I can continue to use my skills in the arts to help others, the more successful I will feel as a survivor.
    
Today I am a very different person than I was. I am more self-assured, outgoing, and personable. I am aware of my gifts as well as my challenges, and I do not allow myself to succumb to the idea that I am limited by my experiences with abuse. I can now take an educated look at my reactions to situations and work to make sure I am reacting to what is happening in the present, not to abuse that happened in the past. Moreover, I have a sense of personal vision and the desire to turn my experiences into a positive by using my journey to help others.
    
Much of my archive deals with my growth as a survivor as it relates to conducting. I can’t really separate those two things; for me they will always be intertwined. What I want to get across to everyone is that we as survivors do not have to live a life beset with limitations. You must have the courage to heal so that you can be strong enough to achieve whatever goals you may have, whether it be to obtain a leadership position, be a good parent, or have positive relationships with other people. Learned self-perceptions and behaviors do not have to make your life less full. You deserve a life well-lived, not a life of imprisonment to an abusive past.

~ Karen's Contact Information ~

Email:             marrollik@yahoo.com

Homepage:   http://www.myspace.com/karenconductschoirs

Q & A

1. What is your favorite coping skill?

Being creative, in general. I have always written music and poetry, but when I first started dealing with the reality of my abuse the poetry took a different turn. My first survivor poem was entitled “No Petals for Her” and was read to an audience on my college campus, followed by a piano improvisation that I performed based on the poem. Incidentally, that was my first experience with sharing a poetic/musical work borne out of my abuse- and subsequently being approached by a survivor and thanked for doing it. It was then that I first realized that I could use my own experiences and talents to help others in a very important way. I have written a number of poems since that deal with the subject, and most recently I have gone back into a pass time that I had abandoned after high school: songwriting (rather than classical compositions). Programming pieces and poems for the Child Abuse Awareness Concert is also a coping mechanism for me, and is part of my creative process. I love creating a piece of architecture and making all the pieces fit together and flow into each other. The program, while meant to comfort and/or educate others, does have its part still in helping me cope as a survivor and tends to reflect how I’m feeling in my journey at that particular moment. So it’s helping me to speak, in a sense, and express how I’m feeling, but in a package from which others can hopefully benefit.

2. What was the best piece of healing advice you ever received?

It’s not really a piece of advice, but more a dose of reality that I heard several times near the start of my journey: it’s not going to happen overnight. A mentor suggested that in a way it will take the rest of my life. That doesn’t mean that you will never “get over it” and that you will spend the rest of your life being broken. It just means that you will spend a lifetime developing as a person and you can’t expect to fix yourself immediately or to make some sort of “healing deadline.” It takes time to work through these issues and to heal from them. You can’t just expect to have a few realizations about your behavior, change it, and move on. It’s been about 8 years since I fully started to deal with the reality of my abuse and how it was affecting me, and I am still changing and developing. I’m better than I was, but not as good as I will be tomorrow! So I’m not “fixed,” but I am a lot smarter- about how I relate to people, about accepting feedback, and about my own feelings about myself. Sometimes my pendulum swings a bit on where I am emotionally, but it always seems to swing back, and I go further down the track. So, if I were to pass this advice on, I would tell someone to trust in the process… and it is a process. A long one.

3. What was the worst piece of healing advice you ever received?

I would have to agree with another survivor who said “get medicated.” The inherent depression that can go along with a history of abuse is exhausting, and perhaps in some instances medication is necessary, but it should be a last resort if taken at all. I had always thought that taking medication rather than working on the problem was a cop out. Then when I had a really bad period a few years ago I thought it was more of a cop out to not get the treatment needed, so I did go on anti-depressants for a short period of time. Everyone, it should really disturb us all that when you come off of them you feel worse than before you started! That’s a true story. Why? Because you weren’t meant to come off of them. It’s criminal, if you think about it. I am not a medical doctor and some people get really up in arms when you warn against medication. If you feel like it has really helped you, okay. Do what you need to do to save you own life and make it better. But I think it is better to work through depression and anxiety (at least as a result of abuse) by taking productive steps in your life, working on a positive approach to life, and by working things out in traditional or arts therapy. I’ve always been one to take action rather than take a pill.

4. What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?

1. Oh, the voices, the voices- the insidious voice in your head that tells you how worthless you are, how you have no right to speak, etc. etc. I guess we all have an inner dialog going on, but survivors have a really ugly pod cast going on in their brain, and I was (and sometimes am) no different. I was asked once to ascertain whose voice was speaking. Sadly, it was mine. It wasn’t even a parent telling me about myself- it was so ingrained that it was me. So I’ve had to reeducate myself about myself, as it were. The things your abuser told you about yourself were not true! Stop replaying them.
2. Other than the inner dialog, I would say that general feelings of inadequacy and incompetence have been huge stumbling blocks that I am learning to deal with. I know the things I do well and when I hit a spot where something doesn’t go right and maybe I (*gasp*) make a mistake, I learn from it and continue with activities where I feel more confident while still working on the weak areas of my life. In my work it is imperative that I carry myself with confidence, so this has been a HUGE obstacle that I have had to overcome to even carry on in my field.
3. Lastly comes the need to please. I think it is natural for someone who has survived abuse to feel that they have somehow let down their abuser by not being good enough, and they continue to find parental figures in their lives that they are trying to please. I know I am guilty of this. I have to continually tell myself that “so-and-so is not my father.” I think there is a certain small amount of caring what others think that is actually healthy and can get you ahead in life, but creating your own self image through the approval of others is NOT healthy. So I am working on trying to find that balance in my life.

5. Have you ever hit "rock bottom"?   What kept you going?

I’ve hit rock bottom several times, even very recently. Or maybe there are different levels of “rock bottom.” One of the things that has kept me going is a sense that I need to take care of myself so that I can ultimately take care of others. I do have a sense that I have experienced certain things and have certain artistic gifts so that I can help others in the same situation. So, if I stop trying, where will those people be that I could have helped? I think for a lot of us it is a huge goal to help others, but you can’t get there if you don’t help yourself. And sometimes you help others for awhile, and then you have to focus on yourself and recharge so that you can continue to do it- that’s the “pendulum” idea again. And I’ve come to find that that is okay. It doesn’t mean that I’ve failed in my own healing journey- it just means that I’m “in training” or “in process.”
 
Another thing that keeps me going is the example of other people who have dedicated their lives to helping others or who have come through various types of tough experiences in their lives and turned them into a positive. I am very inspired by people like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who waded through the volatile waters of segregation and bigotry to be an example to the world of how we should treat others. His road certainly could not have been easy and was at times terrifying, but he stayed the course and worked for the betterment of all people. Tori Amos lived through rape at gunpoint and told her tale to the world. In a general way, she is an example to all trauma survivors through the fearlessness of her music and her founding of RAINN. However, she has often more specifically been an inspiration to me as an artist and a composer using the arts to educate and to heal. When I was first asked to perform “No Petals For Her,” I was okay with it, but quickly had misgivings. I thought I had not right to say what I had to say, that no one wanted to hear it. But a friend put things in perspective when he said, “What if Tori Amos had never written or performed ’Me and a Gun?’” It was also partially her example that inspired the Child Abuse Awareness Month concert that I organize. Figures like that inspire me to take the tough road and speak out, which ultimately helps me to heal myself as well. Finally, I am increasingly inspired by the actor Billy Boyd, who dealt with some tough and even tragic circumstances in his youth (primarily the loss of both of his parents at a very young age) but has grown into an example of humor, positive energy, gentleness, and charity. He is an excellent example of someone using their celebrity and influence to help others. I had the pleasure of attending a charity brunch at which he was the guest of honor, raising money and awareness for a cause that was important to him, and it just made me feel incredibly inspired to continue doing more to raise awareness for my own cause- and to continue to grow and to be strong as a person so that I had the ability to do more for survivors. People like that make me want to throw off my own burdens and “get over myself” in a sense so that I can grow to be a better person. If I were speaking to a survivor I would definitely encourage them to gain inspiration by looking to the people who seem to take limes and make margaritas.

6. What does forgiveness mean to you?

I consider this question to be the most difficult one of the bunch! I think that it means that the past is in the past. If we forgive, does it excuse the abuse? No. And we certainly don’t forget. But I think we can move past what happened and the less hatred and grudges we can carry into the rest of our lives the better of we are. I have had people wrong me in numerous ways in my life, but I simply cannot support the weight of all those chips on my shoulder! We move on.

7. When did you know that everything was going to be okay -- that you were going to make it?

I don’t think there is one specific moment. I feel like I have continued to see glimpses of this feeling throughout the past 8 years- a success as a conductor here, an interaction with a person there, a glimpse of myself in a song or a movie somewhere else. I don’t feel like I have had one “moment” of realization that it would be okay, but these disparate moments of epiphany let me know that I am on the right track, that others have felt as I have, and that I can continue to make the right choices and be successful. They’ve all been equally important to me.
 
I guess if I had to choose the first moment it was probably my graduate conducting recital. In the last days of the rehearsal process, it wasn’t going very well for various reasons- some of them simple logistical reasons and some of them issues with me asserting myself enough to get the job done. I was told if I was going to pass I would have to yell, scream, and throw things to get people’s attention. So I had a decision to make about what kind of a conductor I was going to be, and what kind of a person I was going to be. The choice I made was, I simply told the truth. I told the choir the issues that we were having. I told them what had happened to me and what success in that recital meant to me and my journey. And what happened was inspirational- they came on the journey with me. I don’t make a habit of getting up in front of a group that I’m conducting and telling them about my history, but in this instance it seemed totally appropriate- and no one had seen a recital turn around that fast!
 
The evening after the recital, when the reception was cleaned up and everyone had gone home, I was walking through the residence hall and I saw a magazine clipping on someone’s door. It contained a simple phrase: “If you want to soar with the eagles you have to jump off the cliff.” It seemed strangely appropriate, and punctuated the evening. I felt as though I had turned my first corner.

My most powerful feeling of finally realizing I was going to make it actually just came to me a few days ago! Here is an important lesson: Everyone worries about the debate over whether or not you should confront your abuser, either face to face or in letters that you may or may not send. Rarely, if ever, have I heard anyone talk about confronting your healers. What I mean by this is being at the point where you can tell someone directly, in words or song, what they have meant to you on your journey, regardless of whether or not they even knew that they'd helped you. Depending on the situation, they might not even know about your history of abuse but somehow did or said the right thing, set a good example, or inspired you with their own survival. I had an opportunity to do that this past weekend, and it is a powerful experience. I found it actually requires quite a bit of bravery, not only because your heart is on your sleeve and you're about to reveal something very personal about yourself, but also because you will worry about placing the burden of your abuse on the other person, especially if they didn't know about your history. I know I felt as if I had no right to do that to the people in question. But the larger isssue is not the abuse, it's the fact that they had some part in helping you to overcome it, and they deserve to know. After I had done it, I felt as though I had walked through a door to the rest of my life.

8. Is there anything that you would like to say to someone just beginning their journey?

I would say that Rome wasn’t built in a day. Let it take time, and let it get worse before it gets better- then worse again, and better… trust in the process. Don’t be afraid to speak out and use your voice to draw awareness to the problem- it helps you to process your emotions and helps others either by raising awareness or by showing others that they are not alone, so it’s really a win-win situation. And, maybe most importantly, IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT. You must totally reconstruct your view of yourself to find the truth- you may be amazed at the wonderful person you find!!!

 
9. If there was one piece of advice you would give, or one thing you would want the significant other, best friend, etc. of a survivor to keep in mind through out the survivors healing process, what would that be?

There is a wonderful handout somewhere out there in cyberspace entitled something like “Things You Need to Know About Us.” It includes pearls like “there is not anything wrong with us- something wrong was done to us.” My favorite may be, “We can’t just ‘get over it.’” I keep coming back to the issue of time here, but it is very important. So I would advise patience, patience, listening, and more patience. If this is the start of the journey for that person, it may significantly change your relationship. However, support is so important, so give as much as you can!

MUSIC

www.myspace.com/luxaeternachoir

        ________________________

                IMPORTANT UPDATE:
  
Lux Aeterna's Survivor's Tribute Concert

      will also be performed during the 
            Piccolo Spoleto Festival! 

                               

    Date:    Saturday, June 2 at 6pm 

 Location:  St. Matthew's Lutheran Church

                   Charleston, SC

___________

 

I wrote “Your Morn Shall Rise” to be read at the second Candlelight Vigil for Child Abuse Awareness Month in April 2002. It has been read at the event every year ever since.

“Your Morn Shall Rise”

Out of the darkness
Your morn shall rise
Out of the misery
You shall have hope;
Out of the silence
Shall spring a new song.
 
Let me plant this music upon your lips
With the most intimate of kisses.
Do not ask my name.
Come.
Come with me down this road of night.
Let me be your guide
As we relive your bloody heritage
Blow by blow
And curse by curse.
Throughout horrific visions
I will be there to hold you.
 
Come and grope in dark corners
For truths unseen.
Come, and
Stumbling
Reach for fickle hands
Who only for a summer stay.
When they slip from your grasp
I will still be with you.
 
I am not a lover, not hero,
Nor friend.
They may fade like the sunset
And return you to the darkness
In your heart.
I will never leave your side.
 
Do you ask my name?
 
I am the spirit they bludgeoned, my friend.
I am the soul they murdered, awaiting resurrection.
I am your very being,
And I wait
For you
In silence.

Tori Amos is quoted as saying “when the bleeding starts, the cleansing can begin.” It is essential that a survivor learn how to- and be allowed to- express pain before he/she can heal. Although I have never experienced sexual abuse or assault, I have always felt a kinship with those who have experienced what is also a physical, soul-shattering violation. I sometimes refer to abuse as “rape” or murder of the soul.

“Prayer for Music”
Pray for music
from the stupid redheaded girl
crouched in the corner,
shivering,
silent.
 
She is
still
screaming.
 
Pain
from the wounds
of the ancient rape
draws her song in upon itself
and
cowering and numb
they
die.

I wrote this song in January of 2007. It is about the arduous road that a survivor must take to become whole, and praises the example set by those who encounter difficult situations but do not lose heart.  Here a link is provided to listen to this song titled "Home"

“Home”
words and music by Karen Marrolli
 
A thousand mirrors on the wall and each one paints a different reflection.
Who am I supposed to be? What path will take me in that direction?
I see reflections of girl who died beneath the weight of his aggression.
I see a woman holding her, still not sure what she should take from this lesson.
I see a leader standing there, who wears her fake assurance like a mask.
I see a girl all fettered like a slave to all the violence in her past.
 
You make me want to throw these chains on the ground,
Smash all the mirrors and make my soul unbound.
 
Did you ever know that what’s in your heart
is the power to heal your soul when the whole world’s come apart?
Did you ever see the strength inside your soul?
When everything is broken, your smile can make it whole.
Did you ever feel…
this far from home?
 
Along the road to who knows where it seems the journey is never-ending.
The destination seems the goal, but truth be told, our “home” is in the sending.
I carry every scrape and scar from stumbling down the rocky road behind me,
And it seems at every turn I make the ghosts I thought I’d lost will always find me.
 
You make me want to stay this path ‘till I crawl
Though I may tire I will never, never fall.
 
Did you ever know what’s in your heart
Is the power to heal a soul when the whole world’s come apart?
Did you ever see the strength inside your soul?
When everything is broken, a smile can make it whole.
Did you ever feel…
This far from home?
 
You make me see there’s so much more I must do
Until someone says to me what I would say to you:
 
“Did you ever know what’s in your heart
Is the power to heal a soul when the whole world’s come apart?
Did you ever see the strength inside your soul?
When everything is broken, your smile will make it whole.
I no longer feel
So far from home.”

All Words & Music Copyrighted  by Karen Marrolli
© 2006 - 2007

 

 

LETTER

To my father:
 
I remember the day that you died. It was a beautiful, warm spring day in late April, and it felt like rebirth. I remember feeling like my life was starting at the moment that you were gone. I was finally free. At a time that most people are mourning, I was experiencing my “spring.”
 
It seems that all throughout my childhood you were intimidating me. I learned not to speak. I learned to watch every step or have to deal with the consequences, whether they were being yelled at, berated, or knocked across a room. Still, all I really wanted was your approval. It was not forthcoming. All of my achievements fell on deaf ears, but still I kept trying to get through to you.
 
The evening before you died, Aunt Laura took me home from the hospital. She told me that all you could talk about was me, and I remember thinking, “what a waste.” Why not tell your daughter? The only way I remember you communicating with me was through violence, threats, and insults. I will never forget the day that my mother graduated with her Associates degree, and I was very ill an could not go to the graduation ceremony. Your response was to tell me that she had achieved something great and that I would never do anything like that in my lifetime. Well, the first part of that was right. What she achieved was admirable. What I have achieved since then (be it my B.M. summa cum lauda, my M.M. with honors, or any of my other professional or personal achievements) has been exceptional, and if you were still alive in a few years you would have to call me “doctor.” I have achieved a great deal, and will continue to, in spite of you.
 
I understand that you were the kind of parent that your father was to you, and some day I may even be able to forgive your behavior. However, I have learned to not make excuses for what you have done. I have learned to see myself for who I am, not for who you made me believe I was. The great positive in this is that your memory will always live on… in the works I create to help others heal. Rest in peace.

Phyllis Benton

BIO

I was born in Maine but now live in North Carolina. I am married to a wonderful man, which I like to call my guardian angel. I have two dogs that I love dearly. I spend much of my time planting flower bulbs in my gardens, working in the yard, and writing.

In 2002, I went back to school to get my high school diploma and then continued on to college. Getting my high school diploma was just the beginning of all to come in my ventures. Going back to school was not easy but I was determined. My determination got me an Office Systems Technology certificate, in 2004.

I started writing my first book, Living Nightmares of Abuse, while in college—finishing it and getting it published in 2006. I am now writing my second book, a fiction fantasy. Writing is a highlight in my life. Along with working a full time job, I am involved in several organizations. I have regained my self esteem and feel like I can concur anything.

I am very much a people person. I love to meet new people and love talking. I also listen to people, especially to the elderly—they have much knowledge to share.

My goals in life are; to be the best that I can be, in whatever it is. I hope to become a great writer and have at least one best seller. I believe in dreaming but make it worth while - dream big!





Email:         dianebenton@roadrunner.com

Homepgs:   www.pdbenton.org
                         www.myspace.com/phyllisd

Q & A

1.  What is your favorite coping skill?

I like to get on the computer and write. I write articles and do other fun things. I also like to go outside to listen and watch the birds—play with my dogs. They are such good friends. I also spend quality time talking with my husband or my family.

2.  What was the best piece of healing advice you ever received?

 That you can’t change the past, you have to go forward.

3. What was the worst piece of healing advice you ever received?

It will always be there, you’ll never get over it.

4.  What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?

1.  Learning to believe in myself, regaining my self esteem. 
2.  Excepting that I am a good person.
3.  Not being afraid to go forward.

5.  Have you ever hit "rock bottom"? What kept you going?

Yes, I have hit rock bottom. What kept me going was a voice inside of me, telling me that one day it would all be over and things would be better. I told myself that I was a fighter, that I wasn’t going to give in, and that I would fight back.

6.  What does forgiveness mean to you?

Forgiveness is a hard word to define. I think most people do forgive others for their wrong doing.  Sometimes if you forgive them, you are giving them permission to do wrong again, and saying that what they did was okay.  But in some cases, you can’t forgive.  That doesn’t mean that because you don’t want to forgive, you can’t still go forward with your life and not have any regrets later on.

7.  When did you know that everything was going to be okay -- that you were going to make it?

The day I decided that I had to deal with the pain and go on with my life. I had to put the past behind me or I could not survive. I realized that for too long in my life I had waited, and now I had to make up for it. I needed to start living for me and what was important in my life—my goals and my needs. I am a survivor.

8.  Is there anything that you would like to say to someone just beginning their journey?

It is a rough road. I took one day at a time at first. There is no rush in healing.  However, there is, only if you are in a hurry to get on with your life like I was. Life is short and we have to live our lives to the fullest. Sure, the hurt, the bad dreams, being afraid, is all normal but there is help for us all. Talk to positive people; get involved in projects that you enjoy. Don’t get defeated. Especially, have a list of hotlines or websites that you can go to for help if you feel you are losing the battle. Be positive and know that you are a good person. Be stronger than you've ever been - it’s your life you are getting back. Go forward and be proud of the person that you are.

9.  If there was one piece of advice you would give, or one thing you would want the significant other, best friend, etc. of a survivor to keep in mind through out the survivor's healing process, what would that be?

Never give up! Survivors are important, not just to others, but to themselves. Putting the past behind them and living for today, for themselves, is the most important step they can take. Let them speak what they feel and encourage them to go after their dreams. There is a rainbow afterward.

LITERATURE

 

 

"Living Nightmares of Abuse"
Written by Phyllis Benton

More About "Nightmares of Abuse"

 

 

Happy Birthday to Me
Written by Phyllis Benton

I was awakened on my birthday with my husband singing happy birthday to me. He whispered, "happy birthday", in my ear. 

Seven years ago I met a man that was unlike any of the men I had ever been involved with. He intimidated me at first. I almost passed him by because I was afraid of getting into another abusive relationship. He told me stories and I questioned if they were true.  I was so used to being lied to. But somehow this man was different and I felt it was so right. He was laid back and didn’t let much upset him. 

We laughed and talked and it felt good. We wanted the same things in life:  happiness, loving each other, and working together to achieve those things. We had good communication. He told me the truth about everything.  Even if he felt I wouldn’t like it, he was honest.   

He encouraged me to do the things I wanted, and not to do anything that I was uncomfortable with. He encouraged me to be myself and to go after the things he knew I wanted. I now know the true meaning of love, and of loving. With so many accomplishments in the past seven years, I am a lucky person to have such a wonderful husband. 

 

 I Remember When
by Phyllis Benton 

I remember in my childhood, of not having enough to eat, sharing with seven brothers and sisters. Wanting more to eat at supper time but the food was gone. I remember of the hunger in my belly while trying to sleep at night, remembering the taste of rabbits and hens that my father raised, the vegetables in the not-big-enough garden he planted. The berries we picked and ate during the day to help the hunger. 

I remember when the shoes on my feet were too small and hurt my feet, or so big they wouldn’t stay on—shoes that another child had worn out already. The clothes that people had given me, outdated and falling apart. Taking what clothes were left after my sister picked through the hand-me-downs, and of having only a thin, worn out coat in the freezing winter to wear. 

I remember going to school and being laughed at because we were poor—walking home from school in tears—having no friends except the for the immediate, neighbor kids to play with. Wishing that I had dolls to play with like the other girls. In the winter, sliding on hills on tire tubes and cardboard—having no sleds.   

I remember being cold in bed at night, with only one wool blanket to keep me and my sister warm—the ice that hung from the nails coming through the roof. My hands and feet numb from the cold. Getting up in the morning, hurrying to get to the wood stove to get warm in hopes there would be room for me with all the others. 

I remember summers of picking berries to sell and shoveling snow in the winter for neighbors to buy Christmas gifts—a candy bar for each one of us. I remember at Christmas when the few toys I received had already been played with. I remember of eating turkey for supper on Christmas that social services had brought the family.  

I remember the water being carried from the well and heated on the wood stove to bathe in. Being able to bathe only once a week in the steel tub—sharing the same water with my brothers and sisters. Wishing I could bathe in a real tub with running water—using as much hot water as I wanted. 

I remember the man that tried to molest me as a child. I remember the loneliness and heart-ache of the separation of my family—not knowing where my brothers and sisters were. Moving from home to home—having to share space, food, and a bed with other foster children. Being physically abused by a foster boy in one of the homes—running away to find help.  

I remember the abuse I endured as a young adult—being emotionally drained and feeling useless—wanting to end the pain. I remember leaving everything behind  and being left with no place to go—no money or food—sleeping in a car—feeling alone. Having to find a new job and making new friends in a strange place.  

I remember the beatings in a new relationship and not being able to find a way out. The nightmares I once still had from that relationship. The guilt I felt, with mixed emotions, when I watched him die. Wanting to find someone to share my life and love with—wanting not to waste the rest of my life. 

I remember all those bad times—it made me the person I am today. The thing that is most important is that God gave me life—a beautiful gift.  

 I lost my brother twice 

My brother, Bobby, was the oldest of eight children born in our family. He was protective of his sisters—always hugging us and watching out for us. He loved his family until one day we were taken away. He would eventually turn to drugs and alcohol to escape the hurt and pain. 

Bobby was so proud of himself when he graduated from grade school—dressed in his suit—he looked handsome.  He was a good student and loved to write. He wanted to one day become a writer. He had dreams of being somebody. But that all changed the day our mother walked out on us. Bobby stayed with Dad while the rest of us went into foster care. He stayed in school and graduated, and then went into the Navy. He came to see me once in my foster home dressed in his navy whites. He looked good. Then, having some medical problem, he was discharged early. At that time Bobby went back to live with Dad again.

He found it difficult to deal with the separation of his family—he turned to drugs and alcohol. The painkilling effect of drugs and alcohol became a solution to his discomfort. 

I went to visit Bobby a couple of times in my adult years. He lived in a shack that he had built for himself in the woods. He was either drinking or had been drinking when I would see him. He worked either at the local fish factory or in some other seasonal job - enough to just get by. He had no ambition to do anything anymore.

While visiting him one time, a bird landed on his only window sill. The bird sat there and looked in, not seeming to be afraid.  Bobby talked to the bird who seemed to be listening. He told me that he talked to the birds as they often visited him. He said he had lots of friends in the woods. On another occasion that I visited him, he told me that at night he would see a pair of red eyes out by the edge of the woods, looking at him. He did not believe it was a wolf, but rather some other strange animal. He explained that it came closer each night - that he talked to the animal and they became friends. 

Bobby became friends with all those living things in the woods. I believe he knew that they would not turn on him or abandon him. After the family separation Bobby lost his will.  He dug himself deep inside a hole and didn’t want to come back out. He had chosen drugs and alcohol as a solution to his unwanted problems. 

Many years later, I got a call from a sister—she was on her way to the hospital to see Bobby. He was very sick and the doctor said that he didn’t think he would live much longer. Bobby never went to the doctor very much, but instead used drugs and alcohol to help kill the pain that he'd been feeling. My brother passed away that evening. He was only 53 years old. The family made the decision to have his body cremated. There was a ceremony for him, but the ashes were saved until all the family could be there. 

A year later, we took Bobby’s ashes out beside a small Island in the ocean to lay him to rest. I lost my brother twice - once to drugs and alcohol, and the second time on the day he died. Bobby was misunderstood by many people. He had a good heart and soul. He just could not deal with the discomfort and unhappiness of losing his family and every day life. 

The cycle of drugs and alcohol addition begins with a problem, discomfort, or some form of emotional or physical pain. Everyone has experienced this in life to a greater or lesser degree. There are other solutions to deal with problems without using alcohol or drugs, which only create a new problem. Talk to friends, family, and if necessary, get professional help. Digging yourself in a hole with drugs and alcohol like my brother did, is not the answer. 

Written by Phyllis Benton

 

LETTER

To My Abuser:

It’s been a long time. I am doing very well. I don’t know if you are dead or alive.  But it really doesn’t matter because alive you aren’t really living, you are hurting—yourself and others. Being dead, you probably would be better off, but how could you get off that easy?  You made me and others suffer and took away part of our lives, my life.  I hope that you have found help because you really needed to be helped, and all the time, I thought it was me.  Ironic, isn’t it? 

You can’t hurt me anymore—I have grown beyond you. I do feel sorry for you—you wasted so much of your life being cruel to good people. People, like me, that saw you had a problem. I know you are in pain if you are still on this earth and how awful it is to be in pain. But honestly, I can’t forgive you for all the pain you've caused because what you did is wrong. If you have come to terms with your problem and have really received help, I will pray for your soul but I will never forgive you for hurting people.

I have put you out of my head and have become stronger than ever. I still am the person I've always been, but now much wiser. I know where I am going in life and have goals. You can’t hurt me anymore.

Good-bye forever.

All Writing Copyrighted  by Phyllis Benton and 'The Survivor Archives'
© 2007