Sunday, July 31, 2011


What was it that nagged at me about her?  Or was it me trying to get my own attention?  My instincts kept telling me something wasn’t right.  Was it her or was it me?  Was it like many things in my life telling me something just wasn’t right, but not having any solid proof  as I kept brushing the pesky fly away?  Why did I feel the need to press on when that little knife kept edging deeper and deeper.  I felt I was out of options and I had to know the truth.  It painfully consumed me.  For six weeks I dove into this assignment head first, never once thinking about just testing the water.  It was all or nothing.  I was either going all the way or I wasn’t.  There was no in between.  There was nothing that anyone could say to stop me.  I am obsessive that way.  My inner voice kept tapping me on the shoulder from the first time my therapist called back.  Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with her.  Maybe it had to do with my own inert fears and the leap of faith I was about to embark upon.  I have never had any desire to go to counseling, but with my back up against the wall, I reached for the first thing I could think of.  Regardless if it was the right thing or not.  Once the ball started rolling, I had to know why that pesky fly kept swarming around my head.  I was in deep.  Suddenly I felt like my head was split open and my brains were bleeding on the table.  There was something wrong with this procedure.  This was unnatural and barbaric to me as I have learned over the course of my healing to move with the ebb and flow of life.  And I began to find myself swimming in murky waters, I ran into the rock that finally knocked some sense into me.  I have went for years living in that tortured state and I had been set free, only to jump back into those gloomy waters.  This way of healing was never going to work for me.  I took the chance, I faced my fears, I thoroughly explored every aspect and looked at the harsh results that were concluding.  It wasn’t going to work. 

I can say that I gave more than 110% effort because when I make up my mind, I execute to the fullest extent.  As I had exhausted every other possible option that I knew up until that time, my mind was completely focused as I channeled every energy into each session and every other minute of the day.  I am like a dog with bone, just try to stop me.  I faced fears I never dreamed of , not only did I face them I met them head on and was able to conquer those that have plagued me for years.  I spoke words that had never been spoken outside of my home and I am still here to tell about it.  I exposed myself to an unknown element in spite of those fears and splattered myself all over the walls.  I sat in those fears for hours at a time and felt every gripping hold they had on me and still walked away unscathed and  a whole person.  What an incredible experience.  I did that.  With the help of my faith,  my husband and my 6 dogs, I walked down every dark tunnel and came through on the other side.  I can see and feel the changes already. 

The slate is clear, I am ready to move on.  My mind has opened to other options, now that I can take therapy off the table.  I already made one call, now my next move involves taking a huge risk and a ton of guts.  And while it may not seem that to someone else, it will take a whole lot of courage to make me get my foot out the door and keep walking.  Wish me well.  I am finally going to make my own moves and do what I believe will help me.       

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Something I have learned

Corroborating gut instincts with the reason for it is painful and scary, but well worth it to bring body back to mind.   

Sunday, July 17, 2011

She said, "Why not chop down a tree?"

So I did.

Anger has been rippling through me like molten lava, ready to explode for years.  Knowing how potent this seething rage is, I have always held the lid tight, but it spewed everywhere, vomiting over everything I loved.  As my therapist put it, I needed to express it violently while staying in control and being productive. Yes, yes, yes, that was what I needed.  So she said, "Why not chop down a tree?"  I laughed out loud as I had this sick little pine, maybe 15 feet tall that I didn't have the heart to cut down for the last two years, hoping it would get better, yet I'd been wanting to rid of it.  It was perfect.

I felt the storm start to brew after a run in with someone who was a prime example of my past, so I grab the ax and began.  The release was incredible.  I chopped on one side then went to the other.  My all or nothing wanted to get the better of me and go none stop, but I kept myself in control by taking a couple of breaks.  After all I did have an ax in my hand!!  I'd tied a cord to the tree and back to a stump so it would fall where I wanted it to and I had at it. 

The power in the destruction with a positive purpose was explosive.  Every part of my body and mind were engaged.  The closer I got to the core the more direct and forceful my strikes came.  I didn't have to "think" about the "why's" or "who's" they have been ingrained with me from the beginning. I purged every ounce of my fury through my body and mind while the energy shot through the ax and into the tree.  The act was beautiful.

My last water break, two of my dogs gave me a great big hug.  Without knowing how close I was, I became even more centered, two solid whacks and the tree gave way, slowing falling to the ground.  I was elated.  I was ecstatic. It was like watching a dream.  I did it.  I stared in disbelief.  I felt the fire in my belly that had been churning all these years radiating outside of my skin, instead of tearing me into evil.  It was absolutely incredible.  I had a new tool for anger and it had worked.  I feel the difference, I could see the difference.  I can't even begin to relate how it felt.  It was actually gone.  GONE.  The festering hate and despise I had for everything had evaporated.  The rage that had been bubbling and brewing for so long had an escape route.  Something I never had before and it was a brand new feeling.   

The next morning I started looking around and making mental notes for my next anger project.  Violent destruction with a purpose.  I like this kind of anger management.  LOL!

Wednesday, July 13, 2011


As I mindlessly went through the motions of life the last nine months I began to wonder if my bipolar was over.  Despite the fact of being suicidal three time during that time period.  I had all the reasons "why."  I understood the source.  There was no doubt my past fueled my bipolar, yet I was hanging just under the radar long enough to make me wonder if this was how it was going to be. It was my longest depression in years and I kept cycling through varying degrees of it.   I'd lost interest in everything including living and then I'd be OK. The duration took me by surprise and then became a normal way of life.  Maybe this is how it suppose to be.  Maybe I was finally balancing out.  Seeing that depressions has been a normal state of mind for me most of my life and manias didn't incorporate themselves until much later.

Then the rip cord flew.  A question I couldn't answer lead to an intense search and rescue that began to rocket me through that messy place in my gut that existed long ago.  A rush of feelings that gave new meaning as I connected in a place I never knew was there. I shot to moon on a speck of love that suddenly became apparent then hung on as my jet pack dove into a flashback of the ultimate fear.  The paranoia vivid as I laid paralyzed in its reality.  I circled around and shot back and forth as I snatched up every truth as they made themselves known.  Painting my world a new color.  Anger, fear, sadness and happiness were suddenly my new four corners.  I had them all.

As I came in for my landing, I stood on solid ground and looked around.  My world was suddenly brighter, fuller, beautiful and ugly, but it was whole.  When I meshed with that little girl, I was suddenly able to feel everything I had been missing.  All of the secrets she held, were the precious stones I had been looking for all this time.  And this is only the beginning...

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

The Creator

I dissociate.  It was the only way to survive the torture I endured.  I created separate personalities and had black outs that saved me from experiencing my abuse until the memories began to occur.  It has been like a puzzle putting all those pieces of me back together and uniting together to function.  I still dissociate on certain levels and probably always will.  My abuser also utilize this ability to their needs, what they didn't know was they gave me a secret weapon to survive with it.

When broken down to the core, there is this little girl who accessed this process and exploited it to her advantage.  She took whatever means possible and created "who" ever she had to in order to live through the torture and she made choices that no little girl should have to make.

While I have always loved the gift of dissociating and how it saved me, I for the most part I hated the creator.  In my years of recovery I have had glimpses of this little girl and we have shared a few precious moments together.  In these slight times, I have understood to some degree what she endured and how she made my world a better place, but most of the time, I have held her responsible for the abuse.  I hated everything she stood for, what she believed in and have blamed her for everything that has happened.  I rarely let up on her.  She has been locked away in the cave and sworn to never be set free, but no matter my methods she always manages to escape briefly and then I must shove her back down.

As much as I know she is the key to my freedom, I would continue to beat the life out of her and cram her back in that cave, hoping this time never to see her again.  As my hatred for her escalated my plans to destroy did as well.  To in which I found myself trapped.  I could not annihilate her without doing myself in as well and found myself in war with all of the evil that I grown up with.  KILL THE GIRL.

Enter therapist and question and a painting and song and a day of hell afterwards.  I didn't want to do it.  I DID NOT  want to do it, but with my own tough love, I looked that little girl's picture.  Her eyes as pure as snow.  She believed.  She loved.  She cared.  She had found the secret to survival. She had done it.  Everything she had ever been promised was right in her eyes and they did not lie.  They could not lie.  She smiled with beauty and hope and more love than I could imagine.  And for the first time ever I let go of my hate and understood her and we wept with joy.  We are still embracing and haven't let go.  This long reunion in the works for many years and for the first time I was whole again.  The division in my heart and mind over.  It's taken a bit of getting used to, but we are still hanging on to each other.  And that is a gift worth sharing about.  :)