Risks

I wrote a post on Monday about a flashback I had over the weekend, and here is what has fascinated me about it. As always, it helped put some things in perspective. Just getting the words out in a coherent pattern. Processing by typing. Friends who read the post via Facebook have been incredibly supportive, and no one has told me I did anything wrong by sharing so openly (my expectation every time I write specifically about the abuse). The post had more hits in a single day than any other I have ever written -- but not one single comment on the blog itself. 

I wonder why that is. Who are those people reading about my trauma? Are they other survivors contemplating their own stories? Are they people who had no idea things like that happened in "nice" families? Are they just people with a prurient interest? I don't know. And the likelihood is I will never know for sure.

But all that wondering brings me back to something I've been thinking about a lot lately. Connections. I crave connections and yet am terrified -- even repelled at times -- by the thought of putting myself out there to connect with other people. Because real, true connections require risks. The risk of being real in another's presence knowing that they may not reciprocate with their own "realness". 

When I started on this path of healing one of the things I feared was that by sharing my story I would somehow be giving other people ammunition to use against me. That my history would be used to prove my invalidity. I was terrified of having the tables turned on me and rugs pulled out from beneath my feet. And yes, it has happened a few times. But so many more times I have received validation and acceptance beyond my ability to comprehend. By risking being real I have given others the opportunity to be real in return and I have received so much more than I have risked. 

I am going to keep risking -- by telling my story, by being honest about my wants and needs, by being kind -- because the potential connections are worth it.

linking up with Just Write and Imperfect Prose

Happy Corner

linking up with Wordless Wednesday

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . May 6, 2014

Outside my window . . . clear blue skies. Nearing 70. Birds are singing and there is peace.

I am thinking . . . my post from yesterday and the wonderful words of support I received from friends. 

I am thankful . . . for my children and the lessons and opportunities they provide for me every day.

In the kitchen . . . fresh corn! Dh bought a bunch the other day and I've got to cook the rest of it today.

I am wearing . . . my Chinese lantern pants and a giant white t-shirt.

I am creating . . . a pair of summer pants for myself. I got them cut out and pinned yesterday, and then realized I didn't have any matching thread. 

I am going . . . sofa shopping this afternoon. We REALLY need a new sofa in our den, but I HATE shopping. Thankfully dd has agreed to go with me, and she is a very good shopper.

I am wondering . . . about a research study I have agreed to be a participant in on the practice of lectio divina.

I am reading . . . nothing right now, and that is never a good thing. I started the 2nd book in the Hangman's Daughter series, but I'm just not getting into it, so I'm heading to the library to look for some light spring/summer reading. Suggestions?

I am looking forward to . . . a haircut this afternoon.

I am hearing . . . peace and quiet -- my favorite.

Around the house . . . things are coming back together pretty nicely after last week's chaos.

I am praying . . . for peace and comfort for a friend who is struggling with fears and anxiety.

One of my favorite things . . . is accomplishing things. Yesterday was half-win/half-lose in the accomplishment category.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . haircut, sofa shopping, a couple of meetings, Bible study (I hope to FINALLY get back), dinner to some folks with a kid in the hospital, and hiking with dh on Saturday.

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

my new filing system

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

Again

(warning: adult content and triggers)

She had a box. It was her treasure box she said. She pulled it out to show me. And when she opened it up everything went crossways.

Yesterday my dog brought in a dead baby bunny. I made her take it outside and leave it. Dogs do these things. It made me sad, and let's face it, it was gross. I cleaned up the droplets of blood in the house. I told myself it was okay. People have to deal with these things all the time. I called my husband and he said he was sorry he hadn't been here to take care of it.

But I couldn't let go of the incident. I felt the panic rising in my chest. I had flashes of pictures in my head that I tried desperately to shake away. 

The box is divided into little squares. In each square is a skull of a small animal. She begins to tell me what each one is, and how she killed it. She looks at me and tells me she will do the same things to me. Just like the kitten. The kitten that she strangled with the chain on the swing while I watched, after she took him from me. The kitten that she skinned the whole time telling me that's what she'd do to me it I told anyone.

I can't get the image of Lucy/me as that dead bunny out of my head. That baby bunny who didn't do anything wrong, but had its life cut short. And I know animals aren't people, but when the comparison is made when you are 5 years old, and in such a visceral way, it's hard to let it go.

These are not memories or pictures I want in my head. I don't want to remember how Lucy felt in that moment, and I don't want to feel guilty for still struggling with it now. But I do. Lucy and I could have been that bunny. A life cut short for no good reason.

So I cry and I hurt. I breathe deeply. I color a picture. I watch too much TV. But somewhere in it all, I remind myself that it is in the past. I survived it then, and I'm still surviving the memories.

There are no pithy wrap-ups. There is just another memory to be dealt with -- again.

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Mess

Things are a mess right now. It was a good word choice for this morning.

My house is messy from having a 6 year old spend a few days with us. There is a tent in my living room (temporary housing for said 6 year old). There are markers on the table with random sheets of paper covered in odd drawings that I really can't make any sense of. There have been a million and one questions most of which I've had no good answers for.

But right now I've got a mess of a relationship going too. Things are not the way I want them to be. I'm working on it. I think the other person is too, but it's not resolving like I had hoped it would. And truthfully I'm tired of messes whether they are in my house or in my heart.

So I'm telling myself lots of good things about me and life. I'm planting flowers in pots so maybe I won't kill them. And I'm reminding myself that God's around for messes in life just like He's around for the orderly. Maybe He's even more present (is that possible?) in the mess.

Either way basic facts remain the same -- I am His. He loves me and knows me. He's seen me through much worse, and He'll see me through this too. 

And 6 year olds are fun. 

linking up with Five Minute Friday

Lessons Learned

"I wish someone had told me . . . 

that good people do bad things sometimes.

that parenting is harder than it looks.

that success rarely looks the way I envisioned it.

that aging is easier for some people than for others.

that the people who love you the most and help you the most, are also the people who can hurt you the most.

that children will drive you to distraction at some point (probably more than once!)

that every moment of peace and joy should be savored because there are no guarantees on how long those moments last or how often they show up.

that friends, real friends, are vital to healthy living.

that stuff will never fill the hole that only God was meant to fill.

that sunshine and fresh air will make almost anything better."

. . . But if someone had told me all of that, I wouldn't have believed them. Some things have to be experienced to be learned.

I have learned a lot.

linking up with Writer's Workshop