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The School of Life has so much to teach – if only we would stop to observe and listen to the story whispered to our Soul. Sometimes we become inundated with the needs of people in our lives, at home, at work or no matter where we go. We see what is written on their faces that tells us without words where their mindset leans. We hear the words that are unspoken behind their eyes. We feel the impact of their words or actions when we are in their presence. The world outside our door teaches us what our schools do not and yet its language for many remains a mystery.
We see a tree renewed in the spring as the buds of their leaves and fruit are born forth reminding us that not all is lost and after walking the long dark of winter we feel the lifeblood of the Mother Earth come alive inside of us. We are like the trees before us. We Stand firmly rooted in our faith and know that we are still here and that Life renews itself. We are alive and are meant to thrive.
We see the four-legged beings in various forms sauntering by in their pursuits. A rabbit hops into sight trembling in fear of a winged predator that may come and sweep them into the air for dinner. It stops often to listen and look before it moves toward that tiny clump of lamb quarters not two feet away. When it arrives, its vigilance remains keen, its muscles tight and ready to sprint as it chews on the providence of abundance before them.
We hear the call of the hawk’s piercing cry, beckoning our attention to awareness. We become alert to our environment and become mindful of what we are doing and where we are going. It is Spirit’s messenger that begs us to follow the promptings of our heart instead of the wayward path of this world.
We stop long enough to look down and see a tiny ant, struggling with retrieving a succulent leaf 20 times its own size. It stops and assesses its targets position and thereby repositions itself in yet another attempt to lift and carry it home. The attempt fails but it does not give up. It continues the dance of assessment until alas he finds another way to retrieve Earth’s blessing. He hoists his heavy ladened treasure and moves around mountains of debris and any other obstacle in its path, never wavering in the task.
We see a lone flower in bloom sitting alone on a mountain of rocks. No other life can be seen around it. A tiny seed on the breeze has brought it into a stark empty environment, and yet this tiny seed found purchase in between the crack of one boulder. There is dug its roots deep to find the nourishment it needed to survive and thrive among a bunch of rocks. It withstood every windstorm holding firm. It braved the scorching heat of the sun-infused stones that tried to burn it out and the torrential rains that tried to uproot its foothold – and it grew to share its radiant beauty with all who passed on by.
I am grateful for Life and the ability to breathe.
I am grateful for all of Life’s mysteries.
I am grateful for my senses and sensibilities.
I am grateful to my parents for being absent…
… you made me unafraid to be on my own.
… you taught me to be my own woman.
I am grateful for your obtuse abuse…
…you taught me resilience,
…you taught me strength
…you taught me self-respect and resolve.
I am grateful for your criticisms…
…you taught me to be critical in my thinking.
…you taught me to think for myself.
…you taught me to see things from a different perspective.
…you taught me not to believe everything I heard.
I am grateful for betraying my innocence and trust…
…you opened my eyes to my reality.
…you taught me to see things more clearly.
…you taught me trust must be earned.
I am grateful to my siblings for shunning me…
…you taught me self-preservation was key.
I am grateful to all my family for abandoning me…
…you taught me to be self-reliant.
…you taught me to hold my head up and walk alone.
I am grateful to my ex-husband for your abuse…
…you taught me longsuffering and temperance.
…you became the catalyst for my healing journey from abuse.
I am grateful to my current husband and my children…
…you taught me acceptance.
…you taught me patience.
…you taught me it was safe to trust.
…you taught me it was safe to speak up.
…you taught me it was safe to step out of my comfort zone.
…you taught me it was okay to be who I am.
…you taught me Love really does exist in this world.
…you taught me to Believe in myself.
I am grateful You are here.
I am grateful You hear my heart.
I am grateful to You…for just being You.
I am following through on the tasks assigned associated with the Sunshine Blogger award; I would like to nominate the following fellow bloggers
Mary Mangee – a friend, colleague, aspiring author, writer and blogger who will make you smile, make you think, and bring a bit of sunshine in your world. You can find her at https://dailydosesdotlife.wordpress.com/
James Edgar Skye – a brilliant mind, blogger and blog builder. James is also an aspiring author currently writing his memoir. You can find him at https://thebipolarwriter.blog
Each blog is a unique and beautiful image of the human experience. Each tells a story that is their own and allows us to see the various forms of life in the process of evolution.
Here are Questions for the Nominees listed above:
1. Describe your first conscious memory?
2. How did that first memory make you feel?
3. What experience changed your perspective of how you view the world today?
4. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?
5. What is your favorite color and why?
6. Share one enlightening moment that defined a turning point in your life.
7. How would you define your thought patterns and response-ability under stress?
8. If you were handed a million dollars what would you do with it?
9. What is your most limiting belief?
10. Answer the question: “Who am I?”
I look forward to seeing your posts on your page should you choose to complete the tasks required by the rules. If not – that’s ok too!
Omg! I was recently nominated for the Sunshine Blogger Award. I wish to extend a heart of gratitude to my friend and writing colleague Mary Mangee who is a brilliant writer. You will find her blog to be quite authentic and refreshingly bright. Please take the time to check it out @ https://dailydosesdotlife.wordpress.com/
There are rules that a nominee must follow in order to comply with the award. So I need your attention because I am going to nominate a few of my fellow bloggers as well.
The Rules are simply this:
1.) Thank the person who nominated you and provide a link back to them.
2.) Answer 11 questions provided by the blogger who nominated you.
3.) Nominate 11 other bloggers and ask them 11 new questions.
4.) Notify the nominees by commenting on one of their blog posts.
5.) List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo on your post.
The questions Mary asked me to answer are these:
1. What is your favorite fruit? There are so many fruits to love in this world I could not name them all so I will list the 9 Fruits of the Spirit as the most nutritious and beneficial that I strive to grow in the Garden of my Soul.
2. Are you religious or spiritual? We are all Spiritual beings having a human experience. Some Religions provide a guidepostfor those who are seeking more out of their experience here in this world.
3. Name 3 of your favorite things. Only 3? Hmm – challenge me why don’tcha!
First – things are just things, so if we are talking about material things then I would say it is a waste of time to have favorite “things” since its existence is limited in this world.
However, If you are talking about “timeless things” that cannot be dulled by their existence in our world then I would have to say my favorite thing is Our Planet. Our planet is a Gift from God. It is a creation of our Creator that continues to create, evolve and provide Life for All living things. All living things are an expression of a superior intelligence we call God (the Creator) and his Goddess (aka: Mother Earth).
Second – I love learning. I am a seeker of knowledge and truth. We, humans, are so much more than we appear to be outwardly, yet we are unaware of our capabilities and abilities. I love biology and the lessons found in nature, the human body and the interactions of a closed system that mirrors our planet and how the Trinity within us works to become the creators of our own destiny.
Last but not least, I am a seeker of metaphysical (meta=things unseen) knowledge that provides the associative mechanism of my mind with the tools to connect to my own personal “inner-net” to find answers that my soul longs to know. I love to write and share my thoughts with other people of like mind.
4. Would you call your eating habits healthy? Yes! I am not a fan of genetically modified food nor the chemical fillers that cause people to become addicted to foods that are not healthy for them. I am a fan of “grow your own” and share with others.
5. Who would you consider to be your hero? Aside from the “man” called Jesus, I would have to say, Wayne Dyer. He is a man who is among the few who listened to his calling to learn, found his own inner peace and shared key points related to the cryptic writings of the Masters and manifested that knowledge for others to learn.
6. What is your favorite book? I cannot choose, there are way too many in my own library.
7. What is your highest level of formal education? A.A.S. Therapeutic Massage & Bodywork, & Masters in the School of Hard Knocks
8. What part of the world are you from? I come from the Heart of the Mother Earth & the Paradise of the Pacific.
9. Who in your life has been the most influential? My Spirit Guides
10. Explain one defining moment in your life. The moment I realized abuse wasn’t normal was the biggest eye-opener for me. I was 38 years old with two children and living with an abuser and I was clueless because I grew up in an abusive household, and my life experiences up to that age were all crowding in.
My ex-husband was injured on the job so I was the sole provider for a family of four. I worked full time, was going to school, doing all the household chores, taking care of my children, paying the bills, setting appointments, back and forth at the hospital between appointments and surgeries for him.
Nothing I did was good enough to escape the constant barrage of his verbal vomit and false accusations if I was a minute late from work, or school, or dinner wasn’t right. If I spoke to anyone he knew about it. I was not allowed friends because his actions or rage would push them away and keep them away. Sleep paralysis became more frequent, a constant pressure of feeling as if someone was sitting on my chest. The nerves in my face would twitch or simply lose feeling. Until I saw a pamphlet about abuse on a bulletin board at one of the colleges I attended. That was when I realized abuse wasn’t normal.
11. When overwhelmed, what is your go-to?
At my age, when I am overwhelmed it moves to a panic attack. My adrenals are have been shot for years. I have to stop, put my hand over my heart, close my eyes and focus there. I visualize the color pink (associated with love) and insert both sides of the Reiki symbol called Cho Ku Rei to restore balance to the heart rhythm. If pink doesn’t work that day, I will ask for gold or green. Once the heart calms I it usually allows me to catch my breath. If it doesn’t then I must take control of my breathing and I visualize my inner Sanctuary.
Stay tuned for Part II! I have to go to work and will post it later!
Dancing this Sacred Spiral is what we all do whether we are aware of it or not. We experience something that reminds us of an unhealed wound. That wound is reopened and we are flooded with memories, thought patterns and emotions we ‘thought’ we were done with, only now we are forced to look at the experience or experiences again.
Know Thyself, Heal Thyself were the words that were written over the Temples in Delphi, Greece centuries ago. Words that I took to heart because I knew the exorbitant costs of professional counseling were way out of reach for me; and, even if I did have counsel I knew I would still have to do the work myself anyway.
“Children learn what they Live” I know this – we all do.
Some of us are quite aware of what we have learned from childhood on up. Some do not. Our personalities and character grow on the spiral upward from childhood based on our experiences and encounters with life and other human beings.
As an abuse survivor, I have had to dig deep to uproot the hidden lessons from the first 38 years of my life. You would think I would have learned and healed all of the issues associated with the things I endured in those years, but here it is 23 years later and I find that I have not.
My healing journey is an ongoing process that takes me back to dig through some very deep-seated issues, sadness and emotions I thought I was done with. Mentally and emotionally it sucks but, don’t get me wrong, I am truly grateful when I unearth the hidden issues that need to be reviewed because I know that there is more that needs to be reconciled, forgiven and released.
Hurtful experiences from the past tend to be on a subconscious trigger that flips the switch to automatic ‘recall’. We have no choice but to ‘remember’ it when the memory or memories resurface into consciousness. When it happens then it becomes my job to review and redefine the experience and the emotions that go along with it. Only then can I refile that old memory with a more positive mindset, viewpoint, and emoticon to go with it.
This repetitive process of review has given me an updated perspective and a new way of looking at things. It has adjusted the perception of myself, other people and our world. May it be so with you.
(Note: “Children learn what they Live” is a limited self-published, self-distributed channeled booklet of poems written by the author during her healing journey in 2007.)
I am taking a leap of faith today and would like to share a chapter from my memoir. I haven’t completely settled on the name of my book, but for now, it seems fitting to follow through with the name I have applied to it in my mind. For the moment, I think “Snippets of Time” seems fitting.
My memoir is about the effects of abuse on a child and how abuse has grown and has become magnified throughout society today. We see and experience it all around us from individuals to those business and from those at all levels of government around the world.
There is no human being on the face of this planet who has not been touched by it in some form. No one is immune from its grasp nor are they immune from its effects. It has touched us all and it is time to change it.
Some of you may find this chapter disturbing, yet it is a true account of an event that has been burned in my soul. It has affected my development and my personality in more ways that I can tell you, and this is just a small part of what I have experienced in my lifetime. If you feel so led to respond – I would be honored to hear some feedback from you.
Today is the day of reckoning for my friend in her fight to keep full custody of her child. My husband dropped me off at my her house this morning. When I knocked on the door she reminded me of a squirrel chasing another squirrel up and down a tree. Except the squirrel she was chasing was invisible.
She was bouncing around from room to room, shuffling paperwork, printing off last minute copies, looking for photographs of injuries inflicted on her child and other items associated with her case – and she wasn’t dressed yet. She was geared up and going nowhere fast. She was driving us to the courthouse in downtown traffic in this state of mind. It made me pause, and that became the cause for me to pray for her, the drive and the day. I stopped her long enough to give her a hug. She was scared to death of loosing her only child to her abuser.
It’s 9:00 o’clock a.m. when we were actually walking into the court room. A few others came to give her the moral support she needed and to be a witness on her behalf. She was frantic, carrying a cardboard box of paperwork while her opponents dressed accordingly toting their own in stylish crates on wheels.
We did the best we could, in the short window of time that we had, to pull together as much information as we could, so she could defend her right to retain custody of her abused child. To do so, she would have to stand up and state her case, then prove the ‘abuse’ really existed.
The Plaintiff, (her abuser) and his attorney sit at a table to her right. On her left are two other attorneys, each representing a State agency that had a variety of interactions with the Defendant. My friend, has been relegated to sitting in very the center of the room, directly in front of the judge. I felt an overwhelming sense of the imbalance of things.
Over the years, this woman had no choice but to send her child or leave him with his abuser. A court order took the choice right out of her hands. She even went to jail for 30 days and was slammed with a year of probation by withholding her son from his abuser.
My friend had sought out help from the resources available within the system in her region, and she was referred to other programs in the process. A Guardian Ad Litem had been appointed to her son by a previous court order, and an attorney with that agency was present in court today.
My friend fulfilled her obligations of attending all court ordered programs including co-parenting classes with her abuser and jumped through all the hoops they required.
Today, it looked as if they were all taking a definitive stance against her. Both agencies appeared to be contact with her abuser’s attorney from the glances, smirks and verbal exchanges within the courtroom. All the people involved in this case over the span of years have given their opinions. Some have assessed, evaluated and judged their position on the custody of this child. Judgments that may have been colored by their personal interactions with my friend along the way.
There is a great deal of research available to show us what few know, acknowledge or even talk about when it comes to “the abuse of power in the system” on the people who are up to their neck and treading water in it.
“Mediation of child custody disputes is mandated in several states. Investigators have averred that victims of domestic violence (DV) are greatly disadvantaged in mediation. The present study empirically evaluated outcomes and found that mediators failed to recognize and report DV in 56.9% of the DV cases. The court’s screening form failed to indicate DV in at least 14.7% of the violent cases. Mediation resulted in poor outcomes for DV victims in terms of protections, such as supervised visitation and protected child exchanges. Mediator capacity to focus on the child’s best interest was called into question. Child custody mediation should not be mandated in cases of DV.” Child custody mediation in cases of domestic violence: Empirical evidence of a failure to protect. Violence Against Women,11(8), 1022–1053. doi:10.1177=1077801205278043 –
We all know that interactions from some women facing the system and those within the system is traumatic in and of itself. My friend has been diagnosed with PTSD was being cornered by not one attorney, but a total of three attorneys. She is overwhelming stressed and is “shaking” as she speaks after 10 years of having to encounter her abuser by court order and having no choice than to leave her child with her known abuser.
The thought of her abuser having full custodial rights and being the primary caretaker of her son, after 10 years of fighting for her sanity and her son, was almost too much for her to bear. These attorneys “knew” exactly what they were doing by placing her in the middle of the room between them and directly in front of the judge. They knew she would not be able to communicate efficiently.
My friend waved me up front to sit with her at the table, not only for support but a sense that she wasn’t standing alone. All three attorney’s approached the judge and I was removed from sitting with her “because I was not an attorney.” She was visibly stricken and started shaking a bit more, knowing she would have to be up there on her own. The process was slow. The Plaintiff’s’ attorney, an attorney for DSS and the court designated attorney that was appointed as Guardian Ad Litem for her son, all took their time to state their case.
Meanwhile, the subtle interactions between all three attorney’s across the aisle did not go unnoticed by those of us in the gallery, nor did the judge miss a thing. It was not only unprofessional from all of them, including their witnesses, it was childish. The fact that the judge didn’t miss a thing made me smile.
When my friend got to question the witnesses for the State and the Plaintiff, she did her best. She was clearly not an attorney. The judge knew this. She was confused and unfocused, but she held herself up and didn’t break down. Her questions led nowhere and in fact there were many times she forgot to ask a question at all. The blessing was that the judge was patient and tolerant (to the dismay of the State and the Plaintiff’s attorney). He saw her condition and he saw the smirks and chuckles of the “professionals” who were attempting to break her down fly across the tables in front of him.
It wasn’t until well after a late lunch break that my friend was able to “state her case.” Her defining moment was when she held up her timeline with backup copies of the original planners to submit it into evidence and spoke up loud and proud – “This is MY VOICE!” “This document IS My Voice your honor!” This is a historical account of the abuse over the past 10 years that both I and my son have endured.
All three attorneys “objected” it as evidence. All three, especially the Plaintiff’s attorney voicing it as being “highly objected” as evidence. My friend’s questioning of her abuser already revealed her client’s arrest records which unseated her considerably and undermined the case that he was a “good man.” The document in question provided additional proof, and was complete with doctor’s names, hospital records and even a handwritten letter from her deceased mother that my friend found after her mother passed a few months ago. In addition, she had a recorded statement from her deceased mother in the Social-Emotional Evaluation of her son by one of the State agencies.
I truly feel her mother was present at her side during this last phase of this hearing session. She had very little time to pull it all together. The judge “accepted” her documents into evidence despite ALL of their objections. I bowed my head in gratitude for that defining moment.
The hearing lasted right up till 6:00 p.m. last Tuesday. The Plaintiff’s attorney thought she had the case nailed, as did the other two attorneys for the State. She pushed “twice” for a ruling at the close, and requested that the child be removed immediately and placed into the father’s care. She also had the audacity to request surveillance on my friend citing her “mental state” and the potential that she would flee the State. Really???
The judge shook his head at her callousness and denied her a ruling on the spot, stating that he would have to look at “ALL” of the evidence presented and that he would “email” his ruling to her, the other attorneys present and to the mother “when he was done.” You would think an attorney would not have a temper tantrum like a two year old. It was quite funny watching her twist her lip and make faces as if no one was looking. I swear she stomped one foot in the process. I believe the Plaintiff’s attorney was beside herself. In fact, all three of them were all stunned.
At the writing of this post, there has still been no word of the judges ruling. It looks like we will have to wait a little longer.
This is not a picture of my friend, but I really do feel that it portrays the sorrow, suffering and only a smidgeon of the frustration and futility that she has experienced through this harrowing journey. She is facing a court hearing that will determine full custodial rights of her child to either her or her known abuser. She has NO attorney to help her continue the fight for herself or for her child.
So we went to work. In reviewing my friends personal planner/journal of chronological events of abuse turned out to be a historical calendar of her 10-year history of physical, mental, emotional and financial abuse. Her court documents were records of information that would not have been available to us without them.
Her personal planner/journal would indeed be “Her Voice.” So together we diligently went through it all. Month by month we scraped out the information and compiled an Excel spreadsheet that detailed the sequence of events, encounters, communication difficulties, and accounts of every level of abuse that had befallen herself and her son.
The process became a stunning revelation of her story and for herself. She had no idea that her diligence, her fervor and her “pen” would become her greatest ally. Everything she was fighting for, every interaction and every step she had taken to get help from various State agencies was listed in her planner.
We learned that the father of her child had previously been arrested for “Assault by Pointing a Gun, and Assault on a Female” in 2007. We learned later that there had been up to 6 other charges filed against this man prior to that. We also learned that his brother was currently incarcerated for abuse as well. So there is a pattern of abuse that seems to run in the family. The man was going through a divorce when he met my friend, and it appears women were not at the top of his list of favorite people when he learned his girlfriend was pregnant.
The verbal, emotional and mental abuse was already underway in their relationship. Eight months and 3 days from the date that these charge were filed against him in 2007, this same man abused his pregnant girlfriend for the first time by grabbing her by the throat while forcefully holding her down on a bed choking off her airway as she is struggling to get him off the top of her and breathe. She was six months pregnant. He also repeated this display of power, control, threat of bodily harm in his rage on two other occasions. She was scared. She had never been abused and didn’t know what to do except fight back.
In 2010, a file was duly recorded and documented under a 311 call about her abuser “communicating threats.” Her child was diagnosed with a broken collar bone, while under the care of the abuser, had another fall out of a swing landing on his head three months later, along with another head injury to the boy one month thereafter.
He also mysteriously fell off the wheel well of this father’s truck, while in his father’s care. The fall scratched his belly and punctured his side when he landed on a triangular with a piece of metal. These accounts did not include the physical, emotional, mental and financial abuses to his girlfriend and mother of his child.
We also unveiled a written and recorded statement from my friend’s deceased mother. The 2011 statement had been recorded by an agency worker who conducted a Social-Emotional Evaluation on her son at the age of 2 years and 3 months old. That statement expounded a grandmother’s rage, live and on tape, stating boldly that “she will not tolerate any more physical abuse to her daughter or to her grandson by the her abuser.”
In addition, we uncovered a family pattern of abuse by the boy’s father toward his other children. A pattern that is already being seated in her own child. In addition her son has come home with accusations of sexual abuse by various members of his father’s family.
We had all of these incidents documented over a period of 10 years and yet the Department of Social Services and other State agencies involved to date state that the allegations of abuse were investigated and they deduced that all of the allegations of abuse were false” even with doctor’s records that were readily available.
Now, all we needed to do was to get the judge on Tuesday to agree to allow this timeline of historical abuse into evidence.
The abuse of power comes to the forefront in the next post…Read on in Part V.
I met a young woman back in 2008 who was bright, sunny and quick witted with a quip or a comeback. She always had a smile on her face and was willing to serve those in need in the best way she knew how. She loved to sing and still seemed to retain the innocence of a child in her demeanor as she aspired toward her dream.
Weeks after we met, she encountered a man while he was working on her mother’s house. A man who I was introduced to during the early phase of their relationship. He seemed to be guarded at first then shared that he was separated from his wife. Later that same evening my friend informed me later that his divorce proceedings were well underway.
When he left we sat to talk for while as she was struggling inside herself with the issue of being with a man who was still ‘technically’ married, because of her own inner values and beliefs. In her mind she could not shake the feeling that she was doing something “wrong” just by being with him. I knew it was battle that was hers to resolve, so I sat and just listened to her trying to reason it all out. All she needed was someone to listen.
It wasn’t long before I heard from her again and I drove out to see her. I clearly remember the evening when she told me she was pregnant with his child. She was beside herself, pacing back and forth, running her hand up and down on the hood of her vehicle and bouncing like a superball on steroids in her mind.
She was stunned beyond belief, questioning how this could happen and I tried to get her to relax by making her laugh, so I started out by saying “well my mom told me a story about he birds and the bees…” and I did get her to chuckle a little bit, but it lasted a millisecond before she jumped right back into her laying out her “fears.” She was concerned about how she was going to raise this child, worried about this man’s volatility, the impasse in communications, while attributing it all to the emotional weight of his pending divorce.
When she told him she was pregnant, he was not happy about the news. It was quite obvious when the man walks away while running his hand through his hair, shaking his head and then kicks a trash can and something invisible to follow up on the first and storms off.
Their subsequent communications became an ongoing verbal boxing match that only increased tension between them, until the ringmaster rings the bell to signal both opponents to return to their respective corner of the ring. He was blaming her for being so ‘stupid’ to let this happen.
Some how they came to an agreement when they both asked me to mediate, in the hope they could find a common ground on which to communicate without shouting and perhaps build their relationship in light of the news of her pregnancy.
Shortly thereafter our path of friendship separated – a separation that was not a matter of choice, but one that seemed to be a Divine design. It appeared as if we were destined to part ways to deal with our own personal circumstances.
My boyfriend at the time (now my husband) was laid off from his job and we had to move. My 5-year budding business as a licensed massage and bodywork therapist was severely impacted as we struggled financially to keep our head above water. Impacted to the point that I chose to relinquish my cell phone from our fileted budget. Needless to say my friend and I lost touch with each other for several years.
A few months ago, I received a call from an unknown phone number. The Divine hand that separated our friendship brought us back together. She managed to hunt me down after several months of trying to locate me. At first I did not recognize her voice, and questioned my own mind when she said her first name, as her voice sounded quite different from the person I once knew. The lilting tone of her voice sounded like the din of a cracked set of cymbals on a damaged drum set, so I made arrangements for us to meet.
When we reconnected, I can honestly say, that she was a different person from the person I had met years ago. She looked pale and tired. The years of tears, struggle, frustration, anxiety, stress and abuse were written all over her soul. Her ‘light’ had been significantly dimmed, and intuitively I understood why she was the way she was now. I was seeing a mirror of myself from many years ago. So I listened and saw how her challenges had changed her through the relentless circumstances she has been through.
It turns out, that since we last saw each other, my friend and her son both, experienced physical, verbal, mental and emotional abuse from this same man for nearly 10 years of their lives. Her abuser has made several attempts over the years to gain more and more time with his son through the court system. In January of this year he filed yet another case, only this time to gain permanent custody of their child.
I have had several key experiences that affected me before I turned 21.
The first chapter of my memoir recalls the event of my birth with a vine around my neck that was strangling me. The second is my first encounter with hearing Spirits Voice, audibly at the age of four.
The “The Green Bathroom” was the first memory of brutal physical abuse that affected me deeply, and I believe the emotional effects from that event became a major factor in the development of my personality and thinking patterns.
I am near the completion of 15 Chapters now and I have found myself facing an internal dilemma. The circumstances surrounding the central event of my book. An event that made the news in my younger years. It is a matter of public record so I know it is nothing really new to me; however, mainstream media fileted the facts to keep things newsworthy. The media relegated the assumption and presumption of “guilt” that marred my character in the public eye and even my ability to get work to this day.
The fact IS – that I was a key eyewitness to a murder, and to the events that led up to that murder, even though I was arrested and charged with the crime. I was, in fact, exonerated of all charges. A fact not listed on the public records. The experience took 13 months of my life away from me. An experience that nearly took my life in the process and sent me on a trip through a living nightmare. It took my dignity, my self respect, my honor and my self esteem for telling the Truth.
I am no longer a victim, but the residue of the abuse, and the abuse of power in this situation over my life still angers me and causes a great deal of anxiety. Do I want to relive the experience by writing it? Hell no! But I know and have known that my story must be told. The Truth indeed has set me free.
Perhaps it will help another from falling into the same trap, and if they do find themselves caged by “false accusations, false perceptions, assumptions and presumptions” in a similar situation, perhaps they will learn how to overcome the humiliation and degradation. It will certainly make them more cautious and aware of those around them that call themselves a friend.