Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

This hurt a lot! I was talking to one of my children expressing what I that I had some success in finding someone to help me pursue litigation against people/ organizations that turned a blind eye to the torturous abuse occurring in my family. I told so many people, especially leadership in schools and Department of Human Services, and no one did ANYTHING to help me or anyone in my family. My child said, "I Don't Give A Crap!" It hit me like a sword being shoved into my heart.  And worst, the little tape started playing....no one gives a crap, no one cares what happen to you, no one gives a crap, no one has helped you ever, you see, no one give a CRAP about you or anything that happen to you. The pain stung and took time for me let those words go even after my child apologized.  Books - they help me enter other worlds - think about other thoughts - hear other words....for 2 hours I sat on the floor of a Goodwill reading books that people have discarded - toss...

I decided to make a video journals most days as I progress through attunement brain therapy by my Psychologist. While I don't meet with my therapist but once a week, the therapy continues each day I live. I love to write, but video (vlogging) is a popular means of communicating today, so I am going to use it within my blog. Everyday I am capable, I will make a video. My purpose is hopefully encourage people who are hurting from trauma due to child abuse and also to help anyone who know someone that needs to recover from mental illness caused by child abuse. I am a Christian first. Why is this important to say upfront? Well, I want you to understand that I am not using this site to preach or convert people. I do want to be genuine. Since I live in a life with a God-centered worldview, I think it is important to say this clearly. Anyone, Christian or not, can benefit from my attunement therapy because it is not a religious experience. It is done by qualified professional counselors....

I look out my bedroom window...past the white painted rocking chair (that was not painted until it started to mold so no matter how clean I try to get it - it still is dirty looking and my mother-in-law always brought a towel to clean it off or sit on when she was still alive and here for her visit 2-3 times a year)....funny what goes through our mind....that has been 5 years if not 10 and every single time I see the rocking chairs - this is what I think. Focus! I look out of my bedroom window, and past the top rung on the white painted rocking chair, and I see joy..... Daffodils dancing in the early spring wind. They make me smile, which is something I really needed at this moment, because I have not been feeling much interested in life, living, breathing, doing, being. I am thankful for the gentle breeze that makes these delicate cheery flowers wiggle on their long slender green legs. A mental break from the cloud the held me away from connection and joy. I may not be closely linked ...

SWAT! ow, ow, ouch - that hurts.... words slap into me I cheer, I smile, I express my emotions. SWAT! why? slapped again... stares, eyes roll, silent words of "she's weird"...."cuckoo"....it hurts deep inside. I gleefully make a comment, fully engaged, enjoying the moment in life. SWAT! SWAT! their eyes slash through me....hurtful, hideous eyes What is wrong? Why can't I just be me? I might be different, can't help it, it is who I am. I am different. Why can't people be kind and accept me? The pain runs over....the gruntle-scream roars out of the deepest ravines of my being....and I cry, I cry, I cry for years of pain....and I cry, I cry, feeling quite insane...and I cry, I cry, accepting who I am, and I cry, I cry, remembering my grandmothers that were the same..... Did anyone hear them when they cried out in pain? When the electrodes were attached to their bodies and the jolt roared through their bones....did they cover up their screams....was an...

I have been through a hellacious week or more - Longing to stabilize - I sit at a sandwich shop when I should be home making dinner for my family. The sweet tea is so comforting, along with the cheddar broccoli soup. Everyone needs a breather. This is mine as I sit with my legs propped up on the chair across the table. Oh, getting some weight off my mind. Phone calls, television, emails, cat food, cluttered sinks.... is this called a break? Click, click, click ----drum, drum, drum, ---- TV volume up, up, up.....the coil is twisting..."click, click, click," says the pen in my son's hand. "boom, boom, boom," says the drum kit in my son's room. "blare, blare, blare," says the TV since it can't hear over the drum. Tip...tip...push her just a little more...that's it...she twisted tighter... WHO IS LEADING THE ORCHESTRA? Blow! Scream! Help! AUUUGH! Calm it down, calm it down, deep breath, easy does it... Can you tell I am having a better day? T...

Pulling, stretching on all sides. Needs are great, resources small. Expectations, commitments, responsibilities drag and press to be satisfied. Arms are aching tired of pressure. Thoughts are lazy, darting about. Observed. Judged. No one sees the fight inside. Outward glances, misunderstandings. I have too much to do. I am needed in so many places by so many people. I made commitments when I was functioning, feeling normal. Now in a hollow lonely recess, I peer out wondering who do I please. I can't do it all. Who do I disappoint? So many needs, wants, wishes, desires by those I love and should be serving....never can I be everything everybody wants and needs. No matter what I do I fail. Please Me, Please Me - I hear a calling. How and what - prioritize - how? Too many commitments, not enough time. Emotional crashes bring to this point. I can't function if I am not there. I go away when I hurt others and fail others, I don't want to be a source of pain. Love, joy, peace, en...

Feeling smaller, drawing in, do not touch me, wishing I was gone away. Why do we have to keep living? Causing hurt, slashing others, it wont stop if I still breathe. Wanting joy, but feeling sorry. Wanting love, but giving pain. Why must I keep on living? What good purpose could there be? I love, I hurt. I love, I harm. I love, I cry. Disappointed in my role. Being who I never wanted. Numbing, hurting, drawing tighter. Shrinking inward, hurt no others. Still I breath........ Disassociated. My arms hurt, heavy - stiff - solid. Where is beauty? Did she hide and go away? Birthed and stolen, lost or missing. Where is beauty? Was she dangerous or powerful? Could she grow or help? Who took her away? Moving closer to the edge, no one touch me. Let me rest. So angry. So mean. So fickle. Wrapped in prickly metal wire, keeping others at bay, keeping me trapped inside. Feeling worthless. I want to stop - I want to stop hurting those who try to love me. Is Duct tape the answer? What about a mummy ...

So, this is what life is suppose to be like. Is it good for you? Is it as disappointing as my life. How many times have you wished you would die? Too many to count. I have no real solid answers, no one to help, no one to listen to me that I need help, no medication that will control my outrages. No, I am permanently screwed. One day, I will be able to break free from this cage called life, living in torturous pregatory - now way to be released, no way to be normal, now way to not hurt, disappoint and destroy slash by slash my children and husband. Oh, God, how can this be just. What pleasure and glory could you receive from allowing me to live and birth forward three precious children only to watch me destroy them stab by stab, slash by slash, beating them down into worthless, insecure teens seek freedom and to be anything but like me. I release them, tell the to run, to never look back, to go forward discovering their future and hope accepting that it probably be best that it is apar...