Where do I begin?

I grew up in an environment of alcoholism. This environment was filled with physical abuse, emotional abuse, neglect, anxiety and most importantly....denial. We weren't allowed to discuss what went on in our home. It was to be swept under the rug, like the dirty little secret it was. I can't count how many times we had to silently put the house back together while my dad slept it off on the couch. I guess it was simply easier to pretend it didn't happen. I guess not acknowledging it, meant we didn't have to deal with it. But we did have to deal with it and not discussing it didn't make it go away...it allowed it to continue.

I could start with the emotional issues domestic violence causes. Or the anxiety and panic attacks. The issues of trust and constantly being guarded. Always looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next bomb to drop. The effort to accept and forgive...at least enough to move on and live a normal daily life. I could start with the importance of breaking the cycle, so this doesn't move on to the next generation. Or the importance of releasing the anger and becoming a productive human being. These are all important topics that need to be addressed and I will try to include them all.

Or I could start with some of my own personal experiences. The constant physical fights. The yelling and screaming. The broken "things." Being picked up by the throat, while my mom stood by and did nothing. Watching my mom get shoved through a kitchen window by the hair, pulled back through, and pushed out the door onto the porch. Then being told by my dad that if we tried to let her in, he'd shoot us. I could talk about the small travel trailer that was pulled from place to place, sometimes with no running water and illegally wired electricity. Relocating was a constant. There was no need to feel secure, because in no time at all, we'd be on the move again. I could discuss the countless times my parents left us with people we didn't even know; sneaking out when they thought we weren't aware. And there were times those people made it very clear that we were not wanted there. I could never understand how I could be placed somewhere I wasn't truly wanted. But it happened time and time again. I remember my brother and I spending some time on the porch because we weren't allowed to enter the house while the other kids got to have their bowl of ice cream. I remember wearing the same clothes everyday and let me tell you...other kids aren't afraid to remind you of it. I could also talk about the sexual abuse I endured from one of my dad's drunk friends when I was five years old. I could dwell on my mom's attitude of, "If I can't beat him, I'll join him." And how she spent her share of time on the bar stool beside him, while we were left at home alone, probably because no one would take us for the night. And of course, there's my mom's denial and how, "Her kids always came first." I get physically ill every time I hear her say it.

I started taking care of my sister when she was a baby. I was ten years old, and had no idea how to care for an infant. I recall the first time I was left alone with her. I stood out at the end of the driveway, looking up the street, begging them to come back. That was the day something shifted in me. I became hard as survival issues kicked in. When my parents would conveniently find a different sitter for the night, I always seemed to run them off. I literally had babysitters walk out on me, because I made their experience with us a living hell. Who did they think they were, coming into my home and telling me what to do? Thinking they could take care of my baby sister better than I could. I've been handling things just fine, thank you very much. I certainly didn't need them. Over time, my mom told me since I kept running them off, I would just do it on my own. Like I hadn't been doing that already. My sister wouldn't respond to anyone but me anyway....so what good were they? Bye-bye...see yah later!

I was never shown how to change a diaper or make a bottle. I guess it was assumed I would figure it out. After all, they would only be gone "a couple of hours." What could possibly go wrong? But those couple hours always turned into a day long event, usually extending into the early morning hours, which would end with them coming home in a fight. Do you realize how scary it is to a ten year old child to be left at home alone, with an infant, especially when it gets dark? We rarely had a phone, so I never had any way of checking in to see when they'd be home. I was forced to learn to deal with it.

These few examples I've shared are only the tip of the iceberg.

The emotional issues from domestic abuse could fill a book and there is no way I can cover them all in this article. The programming that comes from living in an abusive household is devastating to the human mind. In order to survive, the mind has to adapt and it becomes programmed to work in a certain way. It remembers everything and protects against danger in ways we still don't understand. The human mind literally has the ability to protect itself and it does this by altering what we think, which effects the way we see things. When our programming changes the way we think, it also effects the way we feel because the mind and body are tightly connected. What effects one, effects the other. Emotional abuse is one of the hardest to overcome because of the programming done to the mind. You can reprogram the mind to think and operate in a different manner, but it takes time and a lot of hard, heavy and deep soul searching, which is hardly a walk in the park.

Anxiety and panic attacks are also experiences that come from abuse. In most cases, the attacks are chronic because the mind/body are used to working in fight or flight mode. When the mind is trained to live this way, it will continue to do so, even when there is no reason for it. It simply doesn't know any different. I've been experiencing anxiety since I was five years old and it wasn't until a few years ago, I finally figured it out. I still get anxious from time to time, but I've learned to deal with attacks.

Growing up in an abusive environment made me hard, guarded and non-trusting. You'll never see me cry. It doesn't mean I don't...it just means you won't see it. I view life differently and I respond to it differently. I don't drink. How could I? Drinking is what caused my childhood to be the way it was. The thought of putting alcohol in my system makes me physically ill and brings on anxiety instantly.

I've had to overcome serious trust issues. How could I possible believe what you tell me? You're not really going to be there for me, so I simply won't count on it. I've learned to survive and I can take care of myself. I've learned to accept certain things and I've learned to forgive. I've done this for ME. Not for my parents, not for the bullies I encountered, not for the other adults who treated me less than the trash in their garbage...but for ME. For my own sanity and well-being. For my own piece of mind. I'm happy with the person I've become and I've become that person on my own.

I decided a long time ago, I would not remain a victim and I would not become a product of my environment. I decided I would forgive as much as I could. Does that mean the circumstances I encountered were justified? Not for a second! Does that mean that to this day, I think it's alright that my parents have to make a nightly stop in the bar on their way home? Not a chance! Where do I place blame? With my father, who didn't know how to stop? With my mother, who allowed it to happen? I feel they both should be held responsible. But I'm no longer a victim of their circumstance. Their life is their's to live as they choose. I simply choose to move in a difference direction. I decided the cycle stops with me. It will not be passed on to the next generation that I brought into this world. Which means my kids won't pass it on to their's and nothing makes me happier! At least I can sleep at night knowing that.

Angel Shadow's Contact Info:
URL:  http://www.myspace.com/angelshadow7

I have always been there
But you chose not to see
The pain and bitter heartache
That you enforced on me.

I could not escape you
Trapped inside your hell
A child of your making
Bars upon the cell.

You taught me oh so much
Not to trust and not to care
My world became so shattered
My eyes a cold, blank stare.

I soon became so silent
And found a place to hide
To young to understand
I was only along for the ride.

Overtime, as I grew
These issues that you dealt
Became so overwhelming
The bitterness was felt.

It took me a long time
To emerge from the dark
To learn to heal and forgive
Was not a walk in the park.

I did learn how to heal
And I did this just for me
A new world was created
For my eyes to see.

I will not pass this on
The heartache and the tears
The children of tomorrow
Shall enjoy their wonder years.

I will learn to be stronger
And stand up on my own
For the next generation
Will not be my clone.

My life is in your hands
Even if you think unfair
Be careful what you teach
And treat me with more care.

For I will never forget
The weary ways of past
Overcoming this takes time
A large stone for me to cast.

My mind is like a thirsty sponge
Absorbing and so free
So please don't damage and harm it
For you're creating me.

© Copyright 2006 Angel Shadow,
All rights reserved.

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Vegas Tops Sex Trafficking List

State Dept. Report: Vegas Human, Sex Trafficking Highest In U.S.

• Video: New Group Fights Sex Trafficking

LAS VEGAS -- Results from a two-year investigation by the U.S. State Department show Las Vegas as the epicenter of North American prostitution and human trafficking. As one victim of these crimes comes forward, police intend to use the information to combat the sale of women and children for sex.

"My blood was spilled on a damp, cold floor," Chong Kim, a former prostitute, said. "They bruised my body and made me their whore.

"Kim said she was forced into prostitution during the mid-'90s.

"It was a one room cell," Kim said, "and each of the woman and children were categorized where they were going to be shipped."

She is currently a criminology major at University of Nevada, Las, Vegas. She said that when she was 19, her then-boyfriend tricked her into prostitution.

"He said he wanted me to visit his family in a different state," she said. "That's how I got sent to a different state.

"Kim said her imprisonment and forced prostitution lasted for three years. She is now an advocate to help other victims of prostitution and human trafficking in the Valley. She is now joining efforts with a local panel to help stop these crimes against women and children.

"This ain't no Richard Gere running out there," said Brenda Powell, another advocate against forced prostitution. "(They are not) trying to pick up nobody and take them all away.

"Panel members hope the formation of an organization to combat these crimes -- called the Nevada Coalition Against Sex Trafficking -- will help target these type of criminals and get them put behind bars.

According to the research, the sex industry generates between $1 billion and $6 billion a year in Las Vegas.

Copyright 2006 by KVVU.com

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Abuse Survivor's Series: 

 
Using Overreactions to Begin Healing
Our Childhood Wounds

By: Stephanie Gagos

As an abused child I frequently detached as a way of coping with what was happening to me and even though most of my memories were devoid of emotion, it did not mean I was not experiencing emotion. My mother’s unpredictable violence forced me to suppress whatever internal turmoil I was feeling in order to survive.  This pattern of suppression and detachment became natural reactions to crisis and anything that caused me any emotional pain throughout my adult life.

After years of habitual suppression, any emotions related to the physical and sexual abuse in my childhood were very difficult to access or control.  They were either elusive, hiding when they were appropriate to express or screeching out when I least wanted them to.  For example, at my father’s funeral, I stood stoically over his grave and suppressed my emotions over the loss of the only real parent I’d ever had.  When faced with betrayal in my marriage, I carried on in life as if nothing happened; suppressing the deep hurt and heartbreak that threatened to consume me. In therapy when I described the abuse in my childhood there was not a tear shed in the telling.  It was if an internal separation automatically occurred whenever anything in my life was too painful. I was conditioned to NOT feel.

While I didn’t seem to have access to these feelings, I often reacted quite strongly to what may seem minor or insignificant to others.  Feelings of betrayal, distrust, an impending sense of doom, fear, anger and an overwhelming sadness were triggered by often benign situations.  It was not uncommon for me to sob while watching a scene in a movie which seemed to have little or no effect on anyone else around me (I did this during a scene in The Other Sister when Diane Keaton’s character watches her heartbroken daughter kick tennis balls in the rain and goes to her) or to become outraged over someone not saying thank you after holding a door open for them.  Things like my stepdaughter not giving us her rent check on time; someone cutting me off in line, an ill perceived close call in the car could trigger a reaction that was often disproportionate to the situation.  And while I kept my outrage rather private by never really publicly going off the handle, even in my private moments of venting to a loved one or quietly sobbing in a movie theater, I always felt slightly less sane and out of control as if my sanity was somehow slipping.

My husband and daughter endured years of these “venting merry go rounds” and met my rising vehemence with stares that implied I had morphed into an alien right before their very eyes.  I, on the other hand, looked at everyone else as if they were the alien beings who just didn’t understand how things should work around here.  I figured anyone would get upset in any of these circumstances and yet there was a part of me that said, “Hmmm, just not this upset, Stephanie”. I must admit that no matter how perplexed they were at my intensity, I couldn’t stop.  In fact I didn’t want to stop.  I was experiencing what I couldn’t experience as a child and in that moment it felt good to feel bad because for once it was my choice.  The power in that was at first liberating.  I could rant and rave, fume, yell and get myself all worked up in ways I was never allowed to as a child.  Even a hint of anger was met with intimidation and violence while growing up.  This was my time, my chance to exert some power and control over my life.  

The problem was that I often felt crappy, embarrassed and guilty afterward, especially when I would attribute qualities such as maliciousness to the offending party.  Something as simple as one of my girls repeatedly not doing the dishes was often perceived by me as an act that was done purposely to me.  Each slight or perceived disregard was like a dagger into an already existing wound, stirring up the fear and distrust that were already there.  Understanding this connection between my past and present is what inspired me to use these times to heal. I already had access to the emotions I thought were buried and I didn’t know it. They were there in my conflicts with loved ones, in my interactions with acquaintances or friends, even in my difficulties as a teacher.  All there to show me what I needed to heal.

Once I became aware of what was going on, I started to pay more attention during these times of strong emotional reactions.  I became more aware of myself even in the midst of anger, watching as if I was on the outside looking in.  This brief dissociation was useful in giving me the step back I needed to really see myself in a state of heightened emotional intensity and then evaluate how much of it was “justified” and how much of it was coming from a wounded place. I discovered that most of my reactions were coming from this place and I started to dig deeper by taking the time out to ask and record answers to some key questions. 

What is really bothering me about this? 

How does this make me feel right now? (Disregarded and insignificant were very common)

How does this relate to my past?  When did I feel like this as a child? What happened?  What did I need as a child and did not receive?

What is different about today? How can I give myself what I needed then and what I still need today?

I did this either in midst of a strong emotional reaction or directly afterward when I was still upset so that I could catch the emotion and not run from it.  Once you are no longer upset it is easy to get in your head, intellectualize, minimize or rationalize which moves you away from the emotion. Usually the answers to these questions would pour out on the page in the form of ramblings and eventually led me to a childhood memory in which I was made to feel the same way I was feeling now.  I allowed the emotion to surface, to extend from that which I was already feeling.  I allowed myself to feel it and grieve for whatever it was I deserved as a child and did not receive.  Depending on where you are at in your healing process, this can either be just an extension of what you are already working on in therapy or it can be overwhelming if this is the first time you are dealing with these emotions. Either way you should have a support system in place to help you with whatever comes up.

Asking the last few questions allows me to reclaim my power and bring me into a new reality, one in which I am no longer a victim and can have control over the path of my life.  By putting me back in driver’s seat I can focus on giving myself the gifts of love, encouragement, validation and respect I was not given as a child.  This I believe is a big part of the journey in this life, learning how to fill ourselves up on our own and letting the love we deserve in and knowing we can.  Today I am getting more comfortable with feeling my emotions, knowing that there is wisdom in the heartache and an opportunity to know myself and understand where I’ve been and where I am going.  I am grateful that I no longer feel powerless when I am triggered and that I can use those times to heal my life.  This allows me to grow beyond what my childhood told me was possible and grow into who I truly am.

Copyright © 2007,  Stephanie Gagos

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