The Survivor Archives Project

BIOGRAPHY

My name is Jennifer. I was abused from age 2 until I was 18 by my father. My brother and mother were abused also. Today, I am happily married to a man with a wonderful, tender heart. He has weathered many storms with me, and has always had a forgiving, loving heart. We have three beautiful children who are the apples of my eyes.

    I have managed to break the circle of abuse in my life, and currently now live happily in the new home that my husband and I have purchased together. My father now comes to the house often to help paint and to visit. We are great friends today, and our relationship continues to grow stronger day by day.

    This journey I have travelled has taught me to not take anything for granted, to cherish every moment, and to breathe as much as possible.

Q & A

1. What was is your favorite coping skill?

My favorite coping skills are prayer and sharing my story. I have found the more people that I shared my abuse with the less it hurt. It became as normal as putting on my undergarments everyday. People would be shocked with me (maybe not believing) because I would just blurt it out as if I was telling them how old I was. But the more I got it out there and I heard people's responses, it made me realize that what happened to me wasn't normal. It isn't ok to be treated this way...and it is normal to hurt over it. Those were very important lessons to learn. Because in my home abuse was treated as the NORM.


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

The best piece of healing advice that I've received is that we all try very hard to do the right thing, but everyone makes mistakes.  I learned this piece of advice from my higher power who whispered it in my ear during my strongest moment of need. I share my story about my daughter below...that was my strongest moment. 

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

 "FREEDOM"

LETTER

Dear Dad, 

    As you know I have spent years lashing out at you and blaming you for the pain that you have caused me. We rarely spoke and it saddens me. I LOVE my dad. For years I have battled with this. I couldn't understand how I could still love someone who would hurt me like you did. I have been punishing you inside my own head. Keeping myself from fabulous opportunities because I didn't want to make YOU happy. I have pushed away everyone who has ever been a friend to me because I feared they all knew what you did and said nothing, there for enabling you to continue your abuse. Now that I am no longer depressed, I look back sadly and realize that those people have all grown, are sick, or have passed on. 

     I am writing this to you today to release you from your punishment. It is time to come out of the corner. I realize now that I was the one being punished for what you did. You never felt that hate that I was throwing your way...just the loneliness. I have seen you try to make a difference in your own life. You have gone to anger management, gone on anti depressants, and have tried so desperately to SHOW me that you were sorry, although, you could never say it. If you were my own child, I would have scooped you in my arms and told you that I know you didn't mean it, and that I know you're very sorry. Next time let's use our words instead of our hands.

      I accept the things I cannot change. I can't change the past Dad. No matter how hard I try. The events that happened were very real and no matter how much either of us regret them...we just can't take them back. I can't change the hurt and pain that I have caused or felt, or the years of lost time.  I can't FORGET the past.

      But I can change tomorrow. I want to know you Dad. I want to love you and to be part of your life. I want my children to know their grandfather. I can change all of that. Will you let me part of your life?  Can we look at each other and not see the violence? I am willing to let you back into my heart, do you think we can be friends?  

I love you.

Jennifer Breault

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BIOGRAPHY

My name is Katie; I am 24 years old and have been on the path to healing for 8 years now. Just this past year I was able to do inner child rescue work with my therapist. The road there was bumpy I suppose one could say. I ran in what seemed like circles for a long time. In and out of a bad relationship, heart breaks, getting close to my family then pushing them away, and a long time spent smothering this voice within. Sort of like I was driving a car with every single check engine light on, breaks squealing, tires about to explode. I thought in my head.. I should be over it. I never gave credit to the magnitude of being an abuse survivor. I wanted to be normal and forget who I was. I am so grateful I was stopped in my tracks by a complete mental and physical breakdown.

It was only then that I needed to love myself all of me. I had to find her. I had seen the doors of a therapist’s office many a time in my teen years but now having a spiritual foundation I wanted to do it all mind, body, and soul. After the sessions of going back into my childhood, into my teen years, and then rescuing those beautiful girls, and upon knowing that they are safe, I found and have learned so much from them. I have a voice now like never before. Everything I do, say, and feel now is based on the intent of love. I went to the place I avoided for years…inside. I loved myself enough to do it, and I love myself enough to share whatever I can with you.

Q & A

1. What is your favorite coping skill?

My favorite coping skill is writing. I have found it to be the start of clearing. I also found a very strong spiritual connection and find comfort in prayer, not of any particular religion. Just finding the place where I feel connected.

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

To do what worked for me. Find what felt right. Those words led me to a place of trusting myself again and feeling in control.

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

That I would just have to get past this… Not that I didn’t, however, this was not my fault and I earned the right to be pissed about it and scream at the world for a little bit.

4. What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?

One, Actually Loving myself, Two Actually Trusting myself, Three Trusting others

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

 
Down and up then down and back up again… What kept me going was my faith that somehow there had to be a reason I survived.



6. What does forgiveness mean to you?

Forgiveness is something that can only happen when you love yourself enough to say “it’s okay”, Then whatever actions someone else takes against you have no power because you have you and they are forgiven because you are taking care of you. They’re their own problem to solve.



7. When did you know that everything was going to be okay -- that you were going to make it through your life/healing?

I think the healing process is life long…a mission of self love…but I knew I was strong enough to do it the day I snapped out of my breakdown and recounted every detail of what I went through and realized I wasn’t giving myself any credit on how brave I actually had been everyday, knowing what I lived through made me eager to live and love more.



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

That it is a layered process, and to be patient with yourself, Tell yourself that you are loved everyday, if somewhere along your path you had lost faith try and find it again. You are brave and wonderful. I believe in you.

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?

To be kind as we change. It may feel like you’re in the presence of a chameleon but we are just rediscovering parts of ourselves everyday.

To be patient, we are struggling to hold onto a tiny thread of light and we get so tired sometimes, but have faith we will get there and when we do it’s that handful of people who stuck by us that remind us how wonderful it is to love.

Poetry

Here’s a poem I wrote

~"Lay Down" ~

Lay down this kindness

Lay down this truth

Put down your struggle

I'll take on your pain

If you'll be that child to me

Look at me with the wisest eyes

Of the deepest brown

I've ever seen

You've come down to me

I'll fall down to my knees

You're an angel to me

Talk to me

Climbing through life with the purest intent

Talk to me

From what I remember to where you are

From what you've seen to what I feel

I've never known

A part of my heart

A part of my home

Celebrate these ones that in your heart

In your most secret hiding place

Lay down beside her

They ask for nothing

Defining your love

Rebuilding your core

Removing the ice

For you want to give more

Life blows on

They stay in the corner of our mind

Stillness stirs the dust

Your heart is less confined

Crying in silence but someone has heard

I'll lay down

Right beside this angel I find

as she is inside my mind

Not restrained by time

Our souls journey

Walking through seasons

Till I lay down this body of mine

~Katie Mac~

Letter

A letter to a fighting survivor;

I hear your voice, though you may feel mute, I see you even though you are hiding, I love you even if we have never met. Reach inside to that courageous person you had to be in order to take that pain, and give back the anger they tried to put on you for it is not, and never will be, yours. You are a beautiful, caring, kind human being and capable of so much. So come stand with us, the survivors. You are valued more that you could ever imagine. We need you, and we want to hear your truth. Tell us so we can learn, so we can stop this cycle and end the pain. You are so brave for starting this journey and you are never alone here.

All the love and support from here to the moon and back,

Katie

katiemac82@aol.com

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BIOGRAPHY
 

Stephanie Boisvert, a.k.a. Beesedentary, is 21 years old and resides in Connecticut with her musician husband and 16-month-old daughter. Writing is her passion and life force – she mainly writes poetry and short stories, but also keeps a personal journal and blog (www.myspace/beesedentary). Her writing has appeared in Teen Ink and MotherVerse magazine. Books are another, perhaps lesser, passion. Right now she is awaiting the next installment of the whimsical children's series, "The Borrowers." She is also attempting to wean herself off chocolate with thrift shopping trips and lots of juicy pears. Her goals are to become a BIG writer (she is still quite small) and a more patient person.  
 
 
 

Q & A 
 

What is your favorite coping skill?

Writing is probably my favorite coping skill. Talking helps, too, but I've found that sometimes the other person's feedback is more detrimental than helpful – therefore writing, a solitary and personal act, is more effective. With writing I can say what I mean or what I don't mean, with intention or without intention. Nothing is restricted. 

Another favorite is what I call "internal dialogue." With this skill I communicate to myself in my head and can discuss a bad situation and the ways in which I might make it better. Maintaining internal dialogue is important in determining what action I might take – whether it be negative: cutting, or positive: writing.  
 

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

I shall substitute with the best inspirational advice I've come across, as I haven't received any healing advice worth mentioning. In the well-known literary work The Desiderata, there is a line that reads: You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. This line has stuck with me for years. Whenever I feel at my lowest, I conjure it up – like a healing aroma – and it soothes and gives me purpose.  
 

What was the worst piece of healing advice you've ever received?

The worst piece of healing advice I've received came from two different people. During my most difficult period, both claimed that I simply needed to "move on with my life." Such a statement was not beneficial to me at all and only depressed me further. What a struggling individual needs is a person who listens, sympathizes, and offers suggestions – not someone who disregards their condition or feelings. 
 

What were the three hardest obstacles to overcome?

1. High school.  It was a heinous period. I felt so alienated, and what made it worse was that I was extremely mentally ill. Combine serious alcohol/drug abuse and risky sexual encounters, and you have a complicated situation. During my high school years I attempted suicide several times and landed in the hospital once for it. After being in a mental hospital for a few weeks, they placed me on Lithium and Paxil, which I take to this day.

2. The summer of 2004. I had stopped taking my medications and had become physically and mentally unwell. I couldn't sleep, nor could I eat. I had horrific migraines and my body ached all over. At one point I lay thrashing on my bed, staring at the markings on my ceiling, sure that aliens were entering my room at night. I began hallucinating. I saw my arm severed by a butcher's knife. I don't know how it came about, but I stayed in a mental hospital for two days before I convinced the doctor that I was fine. Eventually I got back on my medication. 

3. Childbirth and its aftermath (2005). Initially I had severe postpartum depression. I couldn't sleep, didn't eat well, could not relate to my daughter and felt emotionally unstable. What made it worse was that my daughter had colic, which made her cry for three hours everyday, and she didn't sleep well. This was nothing, of course, to what came next. A few months after my daughter's birth, I began having flashbacks and all the typical symptoms of what they term Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. I shall spare the reader details; suffice to say that the agony and terror of that period were a reliving of my early childhood and that it took many painful months before I accepted that I was sexually abused.

Have you ever hit rock bottom? What kept you going?

I've hit rock bottom more than once. I believe that the little child inside of me has great strength and that I lived to protect her. I knew that I would reunite with her someday and create a safe and purposeful future for us both. Additionally, my ability to self-express through words has helped me enormously.  
 

What does forgiveness mean to you?

I'm still not sure what forgiveness means to me – it's such a foreign concept. I sometimes alternate forgiving and denying forgiveness, but more often I find myself in the middle. 

I don't forgive those individuals who hurt me, but I understand the conditions that led to their

actions and even sympathize with them.  
 

When did you know that everything was going to be okay – that you were going to make it?

Sometime in January of this year, I began taking my medication properly and establishing a healthy relationship with my many "parts" and myself. Food functioned as necessity, not as a means of punishment. The image in the mirror was not one of disgust and contempt. My past became a manageable picture screen that I could witness and redial without fear. A loving, supporting family met me at every wail and tirade. And my daughter called "Mama-Mama" with such irresistible sweetness. I accepted my past. This was when I knew that I was going to be okay and that my life was finally mine.  
 

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

Take it one day at a time. Today may seem unbearable, may fill you with despair, dread, fear, hatred and shame, but tomorrow is a blank page. You, too, are a child of the universe – one that deserves unconditional love and respect.  

Lastly, establish a relationship with your inner child if you can. All the negative treatment you inflict on yourself is transferred to that innocent and wounded child.  It's important to remember that he/she has been mistreated for so long and needs all the compassion and kindness you can provide.
 

If there were 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?

POETRY

A note on the poems:  I've decided not to include any recent poetic material, as its sensitive and graphic nature might offend and/or trigger certain readers.  

The following poems were written between the ages of 17 and 18. Unfortunately, neither has an adequate title. I've selected these two as they demonstrate the survivor qualities of hope and perseverance.  
 
 

Untitled  

A little bird creeps and falls.

A little bird whines and jaws.

Inside his leg is a sharp affliction,

Embedding deeper and malicious –

And never recovered from his leg. 

A little bird sighs and cries,

A little bird attempts to fly.

But his action is a useless repetition,

Because his leg won't change from its

Rigidly pinned position. 

A little bird loses faith.

Is there a bird god to help him

Keep his strength, some peace? 

Little bird listen to me:

That pain will cease.  
 

Poem 

Outside the energetic wails of children

Run with the wind –

As I sit here in modest approach

To the sunny temperament.  

Looking out my window the

Burning heat glares, glancing

Out onto the bleak, block pavement

Where cars collide like ants.

Is this reality? 

The red beacon next door,

Standing so still.

It's a house, but a house alive –

Even the sky is alive with memory. 

Nostalgia plagues at my heart,

Depression eats away at my brain.

Slowly lost, slowly confused by days

Which ache and reach back into life.

Where friends told the truth

And joy bounded elastically.  

Now the elastic breaks,

It boomeranged off into a foreign world.

A wired head pounding for release,

Pounding for dignity.  

The wind flaps back my curtain.

The wind so tender and gentle

With mild feet that don't trample

On you, or tramp you down. 

The sky wide and bright

There must a space left for

Meaning, for new experiences. 

My window is only

Letter in Parts: To Uncle David 
 
 

RAGE 

Your face never leaves me. When I look behind my back it's your face I'm waiting for. I know it exists even today, but the fear it previously evoked is gone. You do not make me cry, Uncle. You do not leave me shaken and whittled. Uncle David you are a liar. You are a cheat. You are man anatomically but you will never be a man. A real man knows that a child is sacred territory and never takes her apart organ by organ. A real man will hold a child's hand and mean what he says – not take that child to a secluded area where her logic will slowly turn chaotic and she will never see sense for what it is. Uncle David I hate you. I hate your name. I hate the Dave in David. I hate the Date in David. I hate the Day in David. I hate the Damn in David. I hate D. Banish it from the alphabet.  

Your name is not biblical. No trumpets blare, no crush velvet robes touch the air. You are a maniac. You are a perverted, twisted felon and escape artist. You don't know it but you hate yourself. You don't know it but you are that first uncle – the one who took your sanity and raped it among the sweet swelling campgrounds. Then you did the same. You built a fort with your name on it and repeated the mistake. 
 

SYMPATHY 

 Oh David. Sometimes I love you. Sometimes I see the light in your eyes, small and delicate, little curving tears. You had eyes like mine. Blue. You were young. Tree tall and straight. I backed into you, thought I felt your roots once. You let me touch your heart for a second, gathered me up and took me from where I was standing. Why couldn't I find you when you were wandering, small boy, around the bend? All the time alone, waiting for someone to say, "We're sorry." Waiting for someone to say it happened, it did. Oh David. I do not hate you. I do not hate your name. It is a Defense. It is Death: hiding behind the fort at two.  
 

MEETING MEMORY 

I am now a person. I now have a name. The years that have gone before were filtered through transparent light, gauzy as the moon. All that light cinched into days like folded paper jackets that couldn't trace. I sent all that off somewhere. I mailed it to Australia. But they sent it back to me with a note on the top: You are old enough to remember. You are ready. And so, I opened the hole and found what remained. Remember David. How the sun stole in and the fire cracked? Your man is waiting. 
 

RATIONALIZATION 

Insanity is caused by insane acts. If David had known better than to rape me, he would have. But, he did not know better. What he knew came from a bigger man's message that grouped sex and little children. In a sense, David was doing the only "normal" thing he knew. Also, it should be reminded how an individual often repeats a traumatic action to master it – to make sense of it and potentially rid its toxicity. This was probably what David was doing when he manipulated me sexually.   
 

CLARITY CLOSE 

If I were to see you again I would only stare at you intently. I would let you see my purity, blazing like a noonday sun, soft and downy as a lamb's dressing. I would let you see the lines in my eyes for they are not lies. I would let you see the black iris in the center that is not death deep but circles forever and ever as a shimmering lagoon. I would let you see the vitality of the blue, the amazement of the sky's frontal possession inherent there, the amazement of the words it can read, the amazement that it functions: opens, closes on its own. I would let you see that I am not manipulated: That I create my own movement and react as I wish. I would let you see that I am whole, not disembodied. I would let you see me for an instant and then I would close my eyes and envision you as a little boy touching a little girl… 
 

Do you I forgive you Uncle David?

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