The Survivor Archives Project

 

 

 

Q & A

 

 

1. What is your favorite coping skill?

 

Prayer and Writing.

Prayer became my vehicle of reassurance. My faith kept me in a place of knowing that there was, even though it did not always feel that way, a blessing for me. I belonged to a Unity Church and had become a Chaplain there. Prayer became a focus of my life. I affirmed in prayer that I was God’s beloved child. I denied the power of my history over my life today and Affirmed that The One Divine Source was my parent, not any earthly being. I leaned on God as it were, and God held me up. I recall a day when my Minister was talking about challenges that we face in life. She said it was more than ok to say: “This too is good. This too is God. This too is for me, and I DEMAND TO KNOW THE BLESSING.” The first time I heard it, I wondered how their could possibly be a blessing in what I had experienced. Today it is in front of me in the form of my book and the knowledge that it will reach exactly who it needs to reach, and someone will be helped. It was in the meditative communion with my Higher Self, which my belief system recognizes as an expression of God or the Christ, that I was able to fall in love with my true self.

Additionally my own writing became an essential coping skill. For as long as I can recall, I wrote. In one way or another I processed, dreamed, put everything I needed to on paper. I mostly wrote poetry. It was interesting as I began my healing process, looking over poems I had written as teenager and young adult, who was yet to recall her abuse, all the signs were there in the words I had chosen. I was amazed to see my memories between the lines of what I had written so long ago. I wrote a lot after therapy sessions as a way to process further, to take the pain I felt and attempt to put it outside of myself, on a piece of paper - later on a computer screen! It became Warming the Stone Children. Seeing my words in print has felt like one of the biggest accomplishments.

 

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

 

Warm the stone children.

The day my process therapist told me that I said, “Ha?” She explained that the “little ones” within me were stone children, children who were “un-mothered.” She said, though I might not want to hear it, it was my job now to nurture them. She actually suggested finding a stone, or allowing one to find me, to put it into the microwave for a few minutes, warming it, and then to sit with it. It was remarkable how that grounded, nurtured and warmed me. Though I struggled with the initial act of “taking care of the little ones within”, I realized it was in that process the most incredible healing took place.

 

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

 

Get over it.

 

I think that may well be the most common one. It never ceases to amaze me how others can simply believe there is a time limit to the healing process: not just the healing process form abuse but from loss of any kind, even the death of a loved one. Perhaps it is the individuals own level of discomfort that spurs them on to say these things, I know that others often feel helpless around survivors who are still in the midst of healing. I also believe that it could be through their love and compassion for the survivor they are picking up on the helplessness we, as children, felt and sometimes still feel. Still, there needs to be a global understanding that healing from trauma is a PROCESS and it is often cyclical. Each survivor has their own time frame and it has nothing to do with what or how much they have experienced. It has to do only with what that survivor needs in order to move forward in healing. What everyone, even the survivor needs to accept is, it gets better, it doesn’t get gone.

 

4. What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?

 

1. Realizing that my memories were accurate, and that my mother had been one of my sexual abusers.
   I went through a very tough time of acceptance that any of what I had recalled had happened to me at all. I went through another level of disbelief that much of what had occurred had been at the hands of my own mother. I could not get beyond, for a very long time, that it was a “taboo on top of a taboo.“ I felt stuck in the “Why me?” of it all. And recall finally reaching a point of demanding that my therapist understand that it HAD happened and it had happened to ME. With the knowing I had had no real “mother” I recognized I desperately wanted one. I recall my process therapist telling me for the first time that I needed to care for the little ones inside. I think I almost felt more anger and rage at the realization that someone had to mother me and my only option was me. I had my own children to deal with, I didn’t want anymore kids, and certainly not the little ones inside of myself. I was angry that my own mother had never cared for them. I also realized I had to completely understand I had not been responsible for what the adults in my life had done to me.
   
   
2. Shame
   

   Like many survivors before and after me, I faced the challenged of one of the most damaging aspects of childhood sexual abuse: Shame. My hatred toward the child I had been was centered in the shame of her experiences. I blamed her as her own mother had blamed her and I felt the intense shame of having my abuser be my mother; another female. There was also the moment when during process work, my body responded in a way I had not anticipated. I recognized at once that the child I had been had felt hints of pleasure. I was out raged. The problem was I outraged at her. How could I possibly have felt anything remotely close to pleasure? The shame I already felt intensified. Even as my therapist told me my body had responded the way it was suppose to, even though I knew that at an adult level, I could not get beyond the anger at myself and the shame I felt for having responded at all. It took a long time to finally stop blaming my little one inside for simply being a human being. As I came to that knowing and understanding, the shame of my childhood began to be directed to the anger I needed to process about the abuse.
   
   

3. Learning to Love myself.
   Once I had begun to take care of the little me’s and stop blaming them for something they were in no way responsible for, I began to look at the big me. My body image, my own sexuality, my distorted beliefs about who I was, should be, had to be, and who I had been for the last 40+ years. My self hatred was so intense. It is still something I work on a daily basis. My “breakthrough” in this area came as a result of a Unity class I was taking. Our “Life of Prayer” teacher had us studying Barbara Marx Hubbard’s Emergence. We followed the exercises of connecting with our Higher Selves and Journaling during the process. In one meditation in particular, I finally made it to the place of connecting to my Higher Self. I envisioned the sanctuary that I had been guided to create in my mind’s eye and was amazed when the most beautiful being of light simply appeared to me. The Joy and Unconditional Love I felt took my breath away. I wanted to fall into the light and stay wrapped in its purity forever. I was slightly taken aback when the being announced that it was in fact, ME! Our conversation was pure and it told me that by loving it, I was loving myself! When I struggle now with negative feelings about myself, I can draw on my Higher Self to remind me of the Truth of who I am.
   

 

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

Oh yes, My children kept me going and my faith in God‘s pure goodness.

I actually believe I hit bottom more than once. The first time was when I became aware that what my mother had done to me had a name and that name was “sexual abuse.”

 

As I sat on rocks at a beach in the pouring rain, I no longer wanted to live. I truly believe it was the still small voice of God within me that told me to go home, rest, and know I was God’s beloved child, not hers. Later as the healing spiraled from times of being “ok” to a dark pit so deep I thought there was no way out, I looked to the God of my being for guidance and at my children. I knew that while my healing was ultimately for me - it was for them as well.

 

6. What does forgiveness mean to you?

 

Forgiveness = giving something else for.

 

The first time I thought about “forgiving” my mother or the neighbor who had abused me was during a class at Unity. The prosperity class basically followed the 12-step program. It is somewhere around step four or five that one is asked to look at forgiveness. I cried and cried as I asked the question: “How does one forgive the unforgivable?” As I learned more about Unity Principles and spent some time on this issue with my Minister, I came to a knew understanding. Forgiveness was not about “absolving” someone of the wrong that was committed against them, or of the perceived wrong committed against them. It was giving a new idea for what had happened. It is about seeing it differently. It is about beholding the Christ essence even within that person who has done wrong to you. Recognizing that just like you they are beloved children of God. My Minister walked me through a process of placing my mother’s image in front of my mind's eye and simply stating “the Christ essence within me, forgives the Christ essence within you - I loose you and I set you free.” It is an exercise I still refer to, as I am not sure to have completely released her, but I have a new understanding. I have a new way to look at all that transpired. And I do not have to “blame” anyone anymore, or hold on to that rage. Forgiveness to me is about giving yourself the freedom of holding on to some toxic act against you.

 

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

 

It was a process.

It in no way happened all at once. Little by little though, as I worked through the memories, allowed the feelings, allowed the anger and the rage, got mad, wrote, prayed, stayed centered on my goal of healing, wrote more, completed some intense weekend processing at Shalom retreats, wrote even more: did I come to a place where I could say: I AM OK. I am going to be fine. I survived not once, but twice! I survived it the first time at the hands of my abusers, and the second time as relived the abuse in body and flashback memory.

 

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

 

You are too precious and too loved to allow your abuser to take any more of your life away. Take it back.

The Journey may not always be easy, but it is so worth it. Your abuser tried to take your power; they can not have it! They tried to take your voice, They can not have it, it is yours. I believe your power and your voice are the same thing. You are a child of the Universe, you are vital to it's existence. Most of all, even when it feels as if there is no one who can possibly understand how you're feeling, believe that the Universe knows, and it will cradle you in it's arms of Light and Love. “You are God’s beloved child. Born for hope. Born for Love. You are God’s beloved child, precious in It’s eyes.” ( words to a song My Minister sang to me in Peru - I give them to you now)

 

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?

 

HEAR the survivor.

 

Don’t just listen, HEAR them. Hear what they have to say. Hear their silence. Hear what they need at every moment of their process. If they want to be held, or need distance; allow it. If they need to cry, rage, throw things, sit by themselves, have a party with friends; allow it. Witnessing their pain can be painful for you, have a support person of your own, but do not share your partner's story without their permission. Respect them, chances are very good respect was not a part of their history. Keep things safe. Keep them safe. Create a nest where they can be exactly what they need to be at any given moment, where they can feel completely at ease and safe. Most importantly, LOVE the survivor, Just Love them and remind them that they ARE loved.

 

 

 

 

POETRY

 

MAMA’S HANDS

Mama’s hands are the first to rock you

The first to stroke your brow.

Mama’s hands are the first to feed you

And the first to show you how.

But if Mama’s hands are the enemy

What happens to you now?

Mama’s hands should wipe the tears away

Not be the cause of why tears come.

Mama’s hands should hold tight to yours

Not burn them or make them numb.

Mama’s hands should always be gentle

And give tender loving care.

But if Mama’s hands are filled with rage

You just don’t breathe, you don’t dare.

Mama’s hands should nurse the wounds

Not cause you to scream in pain.

Mama’s hands should sooth and calm you,

But what if she’s insane?

So if I think of Mama’s hands

And what they’re really meant for,

I weep and wonder, where was the love?

In the hands that locked the doors.

No one must see, no one must know

Mama’s hands just made me sore.

Mama’s hands left their mark,

But its not one you can see.

Mama’s hands are meant for Love,

But what if Mama’s crazy?

 

 

 

Encounter

“You must go back, there is work to do

So much is in store… a head of you

Yes, it looks bad now, But oh the gift to know.

Return now, that you might grow.”

“But it’s not fair, I didn’t count on this

The terror and anguish.. How can there be a gift?

Do You see what’s happening? Can You witness this sight?

I find it hard to believe this is of the Light.”

“Not of the Light, My Beloved Child.

But necessary that you may reconcile.

That you may know your truth and stand again - whole

Return now, that you may grow.”

“I don’t want to go back. I want to stay in the Peace.

I have changed my mind. I want to be released

From whatever agreement, whatever contract I made

I didn’t know there would be such horror and pain.:

“Little one, I know.. This was not my plan.

Buy I AM with you. Do you understand?

And I will send Angles, in your life

Who will hold you and sing to you and make up for this time.”

“All right, I’ll be brave. I will go back to that bed.

They’re scared anyway. They think I am dead.

And maybe one day, I’ll remember, though I won’t want to know.

And I promise You then, Lord. …. I will grow.”

 

 

Land of I AM

I was rocked upon the waters

In the Womb of Pacchu Mama.

Re-birthed in caves of Crystal.

I heard the Memories within the stones

I heard them whisper the inner knowing -

I AM

I walked the path of a People

Who held the Wisdom of the Cosmos.

A stranger to the Native ways

To the customs, and beliefs.

But upon their ancient faces I saw the Truth

I AM

I drank the nectar of the earth

And washed in Sacred Waters -

Becoming One with the Land.

One with the people.

I sat in a Garden of Eden

And I remembered.

I AM

I reached out and hands were there

Ready to assist. Holding me.

I reached and took a hand - Reciprocity.

I stood upon the majestic Mountaintops

And declared

I AM

And the Mother took pity

And the Mother took my pain.

She ate all that had no Love -

In my memories, in my Life.

And there in the Womb of the Mother

I sprang forth to a new understanding.

I touched the sky and declared.

I AM.

 

For the Love of Me

And this Love is

As none I have ever known

Love has come and gone.

Love has touched me from time to time.

But never have I felt the intensity

Of the love she radiated.

It touched me at my very core,

A love so profound

I did not completely understand.

And in that instant

I loved her.

Her light burning brighter

As I held fast to her presence.

“Do not leave me.”

I pleaded.

“I have longed for you forever.”

The love magnified with my words

And entered every cell of me.

“ I will never leave.” She softly spoke.

“I am you. Don’t you see?

And by falling in love with me, Dear one,

You have finally

Fallen in Love

With yourself.”

 

 

 

 

LETTER

Dear T (Name withheld for confidentiality - this person is the woman who abused me.  I do not call her mother anymore and have not for a long time)

Quite honestly I did not think you would be the one that I would write to you at this opportunity. In fact, nearly every other option seemed much more appealing. I had never intended to write you, at all. I have not been convinced you deserve any words from me. However, in the process of preparing this piece, I had a dream. I have not had a dream about you in a very long time, not even when I was in the midst of some of my most painful healing work did you enter into the sanctity of my sleep. But this week, there you were.

I only really recall bits and pieces of the dream. I know at one point my cell phone rang in the dream, I answered and heard your voice. I quickly hung up the phone. You had tracked me down. God, how many years has it been? I walked away from a relationship with you five years ago at least, for the second and final time. And now you had tracked me down. What is it you want? Then those odd shifts and turns that dreams take began and suddenly, somehow, you were standing in front of me, talking to me. The only words I recall you speaking were “It is time now.” I jolted awake and sat up in bed. I was shaking. My first sense was that you are dead. My second, how would I ever know if you had died. It’s not as if my sister’s would ever try to let me know. A million more thoughts raced through my tired brain. Why did I care? What would it mean if you were dead? Shouldn’t I be happy about that? Why didn’t I feel that happiness about your death would be an option? Perhaps the dream had not been a good-bye visit from a spirit, perhaps it was some guilt I harbor for not reconciling with you again. But I don’t want to reconcile. I have no desire to be near you again. Traditionally being around you, or even on the phone with you has seemed to suck all my energy from my body. Yet there is that “should” to everything. After all if you were not already dead, you can not possibly have too many years left. And my head continued to reel. The thoughts kept my aching body awake and staring at the dim light of the computer a few feet from me. Despite the wee hour of the morning, I got up. I made coffee and signed on to the internet. I began a search of local home newspapers, going immediately to the obituaries. I held my breath as searched through the names. Yours was not there. I tried to check archives of the paper. Did I miss it? I googled your name, just to see; nothing. I could not tell if I was relieved, scared, sorry or pleased that I had not found your name on a list of those having passed from this life.

The dream propelled me into thinking about the years of healing work I have done, and continue to do. It was a reminder of the pain I have felt for years and of the rage I have worked through. It was a reminder of the forgiveness work I have attempted, and perhaps a push to realize, that work is not complete.

There was a time when I heard the word forgiveness and shuttered to think I should ever forgive you. "How does one forgive the unforgivable?", I asked. Then I came to a new understanding of what forgiveness might look like. It did not mean saying to you, “Hey, it’s ok, don’t worry about all those things you did to me. I absolve you.” It was about recognizing that what happened occurred for any number of reasons that perhaps we will not know and completely understand until the day we are both on the other side. Forgiveness needed to be about releasing you from my pain. It is not about doing this for you, it is about doing it for me. It is about not holding on any longer to any blame. It is about not being your victim any more.

It wasn’t that long ago that a dear friend, doing Reiki for me for some post surgical healing, said suddenly to me; “What would it be like if you were no longer your mother’s victim?” Today as I write this letter, I understand what she meant! It is about taking myself back completely. You can not have me any longer. You no longer have any power over me.

I don’t know why you did those things to me. At times I honestly don’t know if it were in your own consciousness. I have often said that as I look back as an adult, I would have labeled you as having a psychotic episode. I don’t know. I don’t know if you were hurt as a child and you were only caught in the cycle of repetition or if you honestly had so much hatred for yourself and/or me that you consciously chose to inflict pain on your own daughter. I don’t know if we had some sort of pre-life contract to have these experiences that we might each learn some invaluable lesson. I do know that I no longer blame the little one I see in those memories. She was not bad. She was not dirty. She did nothing to deserve what happened to her. I also know, despite everything, she has become a phenomenal woman.

You see, I chose life. I chose it more than once. At thirteen, I promised myself that when I turned 18, I would leave your house and never return there to live. The day I left for college, I did not look back. It was not always easy, but I kept that promise to myself. I committed to a healing process, that at times felt too difficult to complete. But I keep going. I have birthed three beautiful children and have stopped the abuse cycle. I have spent years studying trauma and became a psychotherapist to help others who have been traumatized. I have written and published my story so that others might know they are not alone, and that there is a light at the end of the dark and destructive tunnel of abuse. I have found the God you also tried to take away and have begun the process of becoming a Minister. I have done it all in the wake of pain, sadness and an overwhelming sense of betrayal. I have chosen life.

I don’t know where you are. I don’t have any desire to see you. I can stand here in this place and say, that I actually feel a sense of release around you. I do release you, and more importantly, I release myself from any guilt of my choices to keep my distance from you. .I can behold in you the Oneness that we share in God, I can behold that Light of God that I know lives in you as it lives in me and every other person, and from that place, I can say: “ I set you free.” And in doing so, I set myself free and take myself back, once and for all. And that is forgiveness.

I wish for you, healing of your own.

Christine