I woke this morning, came downstairs, and opened the front door to our enclosed porch. I slid open one of the windows, taking a seat on the loveseat looking out at the trees across the street from me and thought what an absolutely gorgeous morning. The sun is out, there is a breeze blowing, and I do not see a cloud in the sky.
Morning such as these are ones I enjoy walking in the cool breeze, waking up to the sound of the birds chirping while the world still slumbers from their night sleep. I will soon go out for my walk around the neighborhood spending time with God, listening to his still small voice speak to me, words that encourage, direct, and give vision.
I will soon get dressed, put on my sneakers, perhaps a windbreaker, and enter the world with an attitude of inner joy and peace. My life has not always been this stable nor have I always been filled with the assurance and confidence that I have now.
No, I endured years of what I call ‘hell’ on earth, all stemming from a childhood spent at the receiving end of abusive treatment by a monster, called my dad. I’m sure many of you may be able to relate and many of you may have no idea what this type of treatment results in.
For those who also spent their entire childhood trapped in a prison of silence, where speaking truth was unheard of, where the pained cries of our souls were unheard by any human being, be patient with yourself. It is ok to not be ok at times and it is ok to be right where you are in the midst of working towards being different.
I can now say I know my inner turmoil and silent screams were fully heard and recognized by my God, whose love was with me then, yet I did not know it, and it was His love that drew me out of the shell of this hell.
Although I have written about this topic in the past, my writing dealt with the insidious and sometimes torturous emotions I was left to deal with in my now adult life.
I traveled far from those years as a scared frightened child and it has been through much trial and effort, I have come to a place where I no longer feel as though I am in a jail looking out through bars at the world, trapped in the emotional cycle of what abuse had done to me, to my person in all levels of my inner world.
It has been my plan when I began my blog to write about how childhood trauma affects a person in every level of who they are and to let others know, I have found my way through the madness, through the cyclical, emotional roller coaster of having to rise each day with dread, panic, or an overwhelming anxiety that was slowly eating away killing even more of who I desired to become.
I have come to a place in my journey where the need to write about it is now. Sometimes it takes a process, a journey into the unknown to find the known, the certain, the truths that were hidden under layers of the submerged self that became buried amongst the debris of the past.
Although I wanted my life to be different, and I spent years in therapeutic alliances, these counseling sessions only pushed me further down a spiraling staircase, taking me deeper and deeper into a black hole, a bottomless pit, where I saw no way out.
As a woman of faith, there came a time where my life was lived in such agony and unrelenting suffering, that I had to do something different to become someone different.
This is where I made the brave decision to break ties with this therapist and courageously take the steps in going to another therapist who I knew was a man of faith with a bit of hope, that I could get the guidance I needed to break free from the oppression and heavy weight of being an adult living in the throngs of what I had known as a child so long ago.
My hope grew in my very first encounter with him where I sat in utter brokenness and despair in needing help to move forward so that I could become the woman I had dreamed and desired in my heart to be, one who was confident and could live as her true self.
This new therapeutic alliance took an improved course almost immediately and I knew in my heart the silent cries to God in my childhood were being answered by the God who heard the cries of the woman who was now an adult.
This was the beginning of my journey out of the horrors I lived, this was the start of putting all my effort of looking at myself square in the face and asking; “Do you have the courage to face you, and fight the toughest battle of your life, to win victory over the monster who has controlled your life and stolen who you were and who you are?”
My only answer was YES! It is Time to do it! It is Time to let go! It is Time to move forward! It is Time to get on with my life and to have a real life, one where I could truly be me!
It has been many, many, years since I was able to leave counseling, where I have learned the hard lessons known in pained sorrow of childhood abuse. Having the courage to finally say Yes to me, was some of the most trying days, but also some of the most rewarding days.
I am now fully alive, fully integrated, fully engaged, fully authentic, fully satisfied!
This was only made possible by the reality of a supernatural God, whose love drew me nearer to Him, where I learned the art of surrender, the hard discipline of self, healthy ways of responding, and learning to put into daily practice, applications of scriptures in my everyday life, allowing The Holy Spirit room to move inside the places I was scarred, where His healing balm melted those wounds, restoring my sanity, health and soul.
I want to write this story so that others will be inspired to hope. To hope that your life can be different, and to not only hope, but also to find your own way in this life after having persevered through childhood abuse.
I want you to know, it is more than possible, because I did it, and I found my way out of the dark shrouded shame of what was done to me, and I did it by the God I have come to know intimately, and you can do it to, if you let Him guide you.
Today is the start of some new postings I will be sorting out, sifting through, and trying to put into words my story, what had happened to me as a child, how this manifested in behaviors, attitudes, and self-degradation through many of my adult years as a woman and how I met the living God, whose mercy and grace lighted my path, showing me the way out, holding onto me each step.
Writing, like anything else, is a process, a process of listening to that still small voice within me, listening to my soul, listening and becoming aware at an intimate level of who I am and whom I am becoming, and allowing myself to share this with others.
And just like anything else in this journey called ‘life’, writing cannot be rushed, cannot be hurried, and I must allow the pace of my own voice to lead me, so I can share some hard truths I have come to know in having lived through torturous years of the effects abusive treatments had on me, in every part of my womanhood, and how these effects manifested themselves in my relationships, and in my everyday living out of my faith.
This has all come about because I am beginning to write a book and as usual when I sit down to write anything the voice inside me, whom I call the holy spirit of God, moves me in a direction where the hidden treasures of my soul are birthed into words that tell, words that speak truth, words that convey emotions, and words that will tell this story to all, in the hopes that it may help another person know there is a way beyond trauma.
So today I enter the world in a vulnerable braveness, and a bit hesitantly, in my desire to tell my story that someone may benefit, even if just one person who feels lost and swallowed up in the myriad streams of who they have become as a person, as a result of childhood events in having been abused, verbally and/or physically, that there is a way through this entanglement, and that working through what was done to us, slowly, methodically and one step at a time, it is more than possible in being able to have a real life.
It is my hope I can create a safe environment for you where you can feel free to share a bit of your story in the comments if you so choose, that we may develop a community of survivors, a community of those who were traumatized, a community of those who are seeking to help one another, in rising from the ashes of a self that has been devastated by abuse, where we can join together in the land of the living of those who not only have survived, but are thriving as full persons, engaged in living a life that is authentically our own.