Wednesday, September 4, 2013

~ The most difficult post I’ve written



...exhale...
I keep hearing the message that one of the most helpful things any of us can do for others is to show how we have healed ourselves from personal trauma and to allow our stories to become medicine for others.
What lies beneath is not so easy. Perhaps sharing my deepest story, as difficult as it is to put on the Internet, will help others. (I hope so because the vulnerability is nearly unbearable. I’ve been at odds with myself for days.)
Do you know it is estimated that 1 in 6 American women has been sexually assaulted (attempted, complete rape or incest) during her life?
It is being written by one.
The chance that an incest/rape victim is reading this blog post is high.
 Like me I have searched the Internet for help & or answers. Maybe coming across my blog post will empower another woman to get the help she needs and FINALLY let that family skeleton out of the closet. 
My story is a bit more complicated 
because I was around 4 years old when the incest started. 
It was forceful and wrong. 
And the more I developed into a young woman~ 
the worse it got.
This is no secret to my parents, however sharing the 
family skeleton on the Internet is risky. 
I have chosen to share it to help people understand that I’ve experienced dark personal trauma and I’ve been healing through therapy.
Read about it here: ~ Believing ~ 

I want anyone who needs inspiration to know that peace can be attained. 
It’s also a final healing step for me to come out of the closet 
where that skeleton lurks.
I've binged to suffocate my feelings and did nothing to alleviate the shame of my eating behavior my whole life. But now it is time to set all of that free. 
To become the person I want to be. 
That my husband and daughter deserve me to be.
It took me a long time to sort through what had happened with my abusers, to organize my emotional life, to seek help and to heal. I was numb for a long time, was very angry for a large chunk of my adulthood and finally arrived at acceptance... but not forgiveness...
Where my real struggle lied was in forgiving my parents who were supposed to protect me~ the youngest child, a daughter, with three much older brothers. Then  rescue, comfort and help repair me after I told….
or so I thought. 
Professional therapy probably would have been a good start. 
So what was done? Nothing.
 After the incest 
I endured decades of confusion, 
fear, anger, self-hatred and deep shame.
Have I healed?
At age 41, I can confidently say that I have done a lot of healing, connecting with people who accept me “as is” and not so much forgiving. 
I will not forgive those 
who do not acknowledge that what they've done is wrong 
and have ruined not only my life but "MY" immediate family's as well. 
Writing publicly about the incest is a final piece of my healing process. Feeling reluctant to expose the family secret has kept me feeling ashamed of myself. Even though I am NOT the one who should be ashamed... Worrying about others’ feelings more than my own has kept me quiet. I’m ready to disempower the shame, speak my truth and let others feel how they choose to feel about it. 

It's MY happiness & MY family that deserve to be set free.

I understand that I am not my story, however my story is a launching pad for telling the bigger story of my mental illness. 
Depression, Anxiety & Dissociative Fugue 
are all a part of the after effects of years of sexual abuse done upon to me. Not to mention by more than one family member. 
Though I’m grateful for the life lessons that have blessed me recently,
 I wouldn’t wish this experience to happen to anyone. 
Life hands each of us challenges through which we can choose to grow or grow a tumor. I’m choosing to grow. 
Read about it here: Life's Perfect Storm
It’s taken me a long time to say that. 
I am thankful for where I am in my life today. 
I know that each moment was a step to get here, so I am thankful for the family skeleton who has been set free rather than continuing to hold me prisoner.

Finally ~
There's an end to every storm
Once all the tree's have been uprooted
Once all the houses have been ripped apart
The wind will hush~
The clouds will part~
The rain will stop~
The sky will clear in an instant
and only then~

 in those quiet moments
after the storm do we learn~
WHO was strong enough to
SURVIVE...


I thank my husband and daughter again for NOT giving up on me!!!

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