I have been thinking and thinking about this for some time. I have wanted to put a little more about me, so that you can have an understanding of who I am, besides what I already shared.  This has to be the page with the least planning put into it - obviously! No pretty stuff - just me.

I am 41 years old.  Currently, my life is sort of on a healing phase.  I am working hard at overcoming abuse from my previous therapist, dealing with my own family issues, and dealing with my personal 'stuff' that brought me to therapy in the first place.  My career is not really anything right now, but in the recent past I have worked in elementary schools as a substitute teacher as well as been a full-time Masters level college student.  It was because of abuse from my previous therapist that I am not able to work or attend college.  Right now, I am just a mom.  Mom to my own three children as well as four younger children, three under the age of five.  Anyone who has parented understands that being a mom, especially one with seven children living at home, is a lot of work.  At times, I am very unhappy inside, but know that where I am right now is where I am supposed to be.  At times, having these little eyes looking up to me and smiling makes it all seem worth the hard work.

I am a Christian, professing a strong belief in my savior Jesus Christ.  While I question it at times, I know that if it were not for Him, I would not be alive today.  There is no other explanation why I have survived, why I have the abilities and am somewhat of a 'normal' person, no other explanation than God protecting me.  It is my faith that sustains through those dark days and nights, sustains me when the pain feels great.  I count it joy to be able to serve my Father as a vocalist in my church, as a mother to the needy, and to be able to work with children. 

I have been married to a great man for 22 years now. He has been very good to me, and I don't think that if I was married to any other man would I be where I am now.  I would love to say that he is my best friend, but cannot.  We have a good marriage, yet one lacking a strong level of personal intimacy needed between best friends.  He is aware of some of my struggles in life, yet choses to be ignorant.  I am often left feeling alone inside, hiding my feelings from even my husband, yearning for someone to comfort me and take away my pain.  He has been there for me in the bad years, has been a wonderful father (not perfect), and always been faithful in caring for his family. 

The family of origin ('family' is a loosely-used term)

I am the oldest of eight children. My parents were 15 and 18 when they married in 1963 - because they were expecting a little bundle of joy.....sigh......if only I was a bundle of joy. I have five brothers, all of them who have difficulties of their own.

• Me, the oldest
• Bob, 14 months younger than I, age 40. Married with 3 children, an alcoholic with some very severe disabilities.  His health has deteriorated to where he is mostly bedridden.
• Shawn, age 37.  BUM!! Married a couple of times, served prison time, eludes police for a hobby, etc etc.  Little communication between the two of us.
• Shannon, age 35.  Used to be Mother's best friend and not so sure where he is with her now, a real @sshole married to a [b*tch] woman in her 50's who is exactly like his mother and now is a great-grandmother.  Until this past month, Shannon and I had not spoken for 13 years.
• Jeremy, age 27.  In Air Force, engaged, no contact from him in past 13+ years, mainly due to influence from my mother on Jeremy. 
• Melissa, age 25.  Multiple marriages and divorces, given birth to five children who no longer belong to her.  A high school dropout who seems to be seeking something in the men she chooses, never being successful.  First communication in 13+ years this month. 
• Joshua, age 24. Married and new daddy, first communication in 13+ years this month as my mother filled him with lies against me.
• Jennifer, died in 1976 when I was 12 and she two - it was as if losing my own child.

My father died of cancer in Dec 1992, a week before my last child was born.  My mother and father divorced in 1991, after she left him for a guy who was younger than I am. She is now married to that guy - I don't waste my time with them either.  It is safest for me not to talk to them. Until a few weeks ago, I had only spoken with my brother Bob, the others not having spoken to for many, many years.  My mother did not allow me to speak with the youngest kids.  My siblings showed their nasty personalities upon my dad's death, creating a painful fiasco that led to the family splitting apart and not communicating.  To sum things up, basically I haven't spoken with my family since 1988.   Several years ago, I had to make a choice for myself - continue talking to them, being in their control, or to think for myself. Such a hard choice it was. At 24 years old, with 2 children, I still accounted for how I spent every penny of my (and husbands) money to my mother. She dictated how I could spend money, when I could have children, what I could and couldn't name them....just for a few examples.  I had to break away from all this or really go crazy!

Why am I the way I am???

That is such a good question! If anyone figures that out, please email me and let me know! Basically, I am a survivor. From birth we speculate until I was 17 years old, I was very physically, emotionally, and sexually abused. My parents were the people who perpetuated this abuse. One therapist I started working with, when I first told her some of the things that happened to me, said "You're one of those classic cases - the kind you read about in the textbooks and never meet in real life". At the time, I felt honored when I first heard that. Honored that someone would finally recognize me for who I am. Honored that I must be important (yeah right!). I still consider myself one of the classic cases, but have to be careful not to compare myself to others and say to myself "What am I whining about? They had it so much worse than I did".

About physical abuse (and mental abuse some)

This for me is probably the easist area to define. I would tend to qualify the emotional abuse along with this category, for often the two went hand-in-hand. It is easy to describe, for I can tell you the stories as if they occurred to someone else, as I read it in the latest version of Readers Digest. In actuality, these incidents of abuse probably didnt happen to me, but rather to a part of me. Someday, one goal of mine is to connect the feelings, the sensations of the abuse with the intellectual part of it all. A goal that takes time.

Where do I start? Let me start by this...from birth to age 12 or 13, I have no memories. I did not exist. Physically, I existed. I didn't just grow up overnight. There are photos to prove this all. From age 12 or 13 on, I know that I existed. I am able to remember some of the abuse, but am completely detached from it emotionally. There are several years that all are a blur. At age 17, I went to the Dept of Human Services, in 1981, and told them what my parents were doing to me. They refused to help me, saying that unless a lawyer was involved, there was nothing they could do. I left there, and went to the county attorney. Eventually, I did move out of the home - but nothing happened to my parents after I told about the abuse to the attorney. I think DHS felt I was lying perhaps - my trust in DHS is very slim to this day, for they never protected me what I needed it. Ended up living with my paternal grandmother for the next few years. During my teen years, as I stated, the years are all a blur. I can tell you stories that perhaps you would disbelieve - but that are truth. I was the scapegoat of the family, the oldest, the mistake in life. My job was to take care of all the kids, to do all the housework, to fix the meals, to iron the clothes, to weed the garden, to save my mother's life -- the list could be endless here what my responsibilities as a young child were. If, for some reason, I did not do as I was told, there would be a price to pay. That price was abuse. Abuse in the form of being locked in dark closets or basements for days on end, for being beat with items such as belts and belt buckles, extension cords, metal hangers, and so forth. Beat to the point of welts, of bleeding. Kicking, biting, hitting, punching, slamming against walls, etc was all part of it also. It was common to spend hours upon hours locked in a dark, frightening place, or to spend hours standing in a corner, my mouth duct-taped shut and holding 10 encyclopedias, and yet not allowed to sway. There were weekends where the only meal I got was Friday at school and not until the next Monday at school again. My mother is absolutely crazy. She would wake me up in the middle of the night, drag my by my hair down a flight of stairs, screaming and hitting, for something minor like I didn't set my shoes straight on the rug. I have to say that I think I lived my entire life in terror, for I never knew when she would be nice or when she would be crazy. She would choke me, her arms around my neck as tight as she would get them, until I would "confess" to whatever made-up crime I had done, and promise that I would remedy it and never ever do that again. We were forced to lie, to cover up for her every mistake. In 9th grade, she got angry that we did not put a skillet away the instant she demanded it. She picked up the skillet, and threw it directly at us, only a few feet away. This broke the front tooth in half, caused blood, yet the only thing she could say at the time and even now if we brought it to her attention is "If you'd put it away when I told you to, I wouldn't have had to hit you with it". It was 3 years later, after we moved away, that we were ever taken to dentist. We were told to lie, stating that we fell when we were running - just another example of her ways. When the sister died, we immediately did everything to help out - it was a sudden accident. We tried and tried to do everything so that the mother wouldn't cry anymore - she was so sad and hurt. For years, all we ever heard was "Why couldn't that have been you?" See, the favorite child was killed, and the evil bad one who didn't deserve to live was still alive. Thus, The Quiet One's beginning. I cannot continue writing about this, for I don't want sympathy, nor do I want you to lose interest. I think my picture is painted in this area.

About sexual abuse (and more mental abuse we assume)

This is an area that is still in the exploring stages - stuff has been told about possible abuse, but not a lot, and certainly believing it has been very difficult. From what has been told from within, the mother was the main abuser in this area. We do not know at what age this began, when it ended, etc. We do know that it involved various forms of sexual abuse - from kissing to fondling to oral exploring to insertion of objects. I cannot continue discussing this anymore. Suffice it to say that none of the abuse was enjoyable, that it was very traumatic, that it was very destructive. A mother.....can you imagine that???? A mother abusing her own little daughter in this way? It makes my blood boil and stomach churn at the same time. I am aware of a few young children inside me who suffered this horrendous abuse, who still fear her yet desire her love and attention at the same time. As I stated earlier, my mother had to have been crazy to perpetuate this abuse. There is also the possibility of the father being involved, of a sibling perhaps, an uncle perhaps, and perhaps a man we used to babysit for. To what extent, it is yet unknown. Sexual abuse destroys a person - it is something that scars a person for life. And it is sick!!!!

Who we are....

We are many within. Eventually, we would like to allow different parts to have their own space here, to allow them the opportunity to share about them. At current indications, we are mainly all-female system. The number is somewhere around 30, but that is just a guess. There are more children than adults. There are various types of personalities even amongst the children. There are those that are more responsible than others, those that hold certain feelings or memories. Keep looking back to see if we have created space for those who desire to be heard here. Another goal that we would like to see accomplished. Check our pages that some of us have created at this site.

Therapy....

One of those loaded topics again! Another area that could have a book written alone about it. Currently we (yes, the word WE is often interchanged in case you weren't aware!) - we are in therapy with a wonderful and patient Christian therapist.  Therapy has been on-going for fourteen years now, which may seem like a really long time to some.  However, if you understood that our last therapist of eight and a half years abused us, that would explain a lot!  We have had to work hard at overcoming the therapist's abuse, at realizing he is no longer part of our lives and new therapist is NOT going to hurt us the same way.  I used to say I was thankful that God placed abusive therapist and me together -- hogwash!  He had me controlled and was destroying me.  I can say that I do trust my current therapist, that 90% of the time we trust him and are working good together.  It is not because he is any miracle person, but because he has Christ in his life and heart, and he genuinely cares about me as a person.  I am secure in that he will not intentionally hurt me and has Jesus beside us in healing. 

We started out in therapy in 1991, after overdosing. Had the "I'm a big girl and I don't need your help" attitude for a long time - part of the protectiveness. We finally are receptive to the fact that we are multiple, that we deserve healing - most of the time that is! We are taking more of an active role in healing - instead of sitting back and saying "fix me", we are saying "Here I am - I have to get better". It has been a very very rough road, with many hospitalizations over the years. We are working much harder, are feeling more safe in sharing the secrets - we finally feel as if we have established a good trust level, feel as we can and deserve to heal. It helps wanting to have a career, and having children -- in the motivating area that is!!! Not trying to do these things at the same time, for it is extremely difficult - but it does help to know that I have to be much better parent for my children!

This in no way is what I want it to be - not at all. My purpose was to share a little of myself, to make myself more real to whomever is reading this page. Even as I have written this page I have thought of so many more things that I could do - more goals that I would like to accomplish for me, and for you, the viewer. Make sure you bookmark SunnyShine's Corner and continue to check back to see what we have added.

Before I close this page, I would like to give to you something that I wrote several years ago. Poetry has been a form of expression for us, and I would like to allow you to look inside my life a little more, to see what types of things SunnyShine thinks of....to allow you to see a private part of me....in hopes that you will be able to understand that abuse, no matter what the kind, is very harmful. Yet, it is also one thing that can be healed over time.