This newsletter deals with abuse and abuse related issues. Every attempt is made to ensure the accuracy of information presented. However, we assume no liability re same. This newsletter may be distributed for non-profit and educational purposes, provided it remains fully intact, and is distributed free of charge. No other distribution without the authors consent.
This is a very special issue. There are no educational articles or bulletins included. In their place are the voices of survivors. Survivors are anywhere. They are friends, volunteers, work associates, relatives, acquaintances, club or congregation members, or the neighbour next door. We don't turn purple or speak a foreign language so you may not recognize us. Some of us have reached a point in our journey where we have risked identifying ourselves to you. Others choose to keep that part of their life safely out of the public view. We are everyday people just like you, and for us the holidays can be full of hidden meaning and stress.
Below are the voices of a few Survivors who want you to "hear" a moment of their healing journey. Their courage in facing the abuses they suffered has led them to this place. A place where they can share their strength and wisdom with each of you.
As you read each of these pieces, please give some thought to the many survivors who may being facing stressful holidays in homes where the abuse once took place, as well as those who are estranged from their families and alone for the holidays. Historically, holidays may have been a time of escalated abuse, parental alcoholism, or neglect. Presents may have been bribes of silence, or came with "abuse strings" attached.
So please, take a few minutes and wish the person next to you well over the holidays. Your thoughtful greeting will brighten their day, and you never know, your greeting may do double duty and make a small difference in the life of a survivor.
If you would like to share your creative work, poetry, story or artwork in our next newsletter, contact us. We are always looking for interesting articles, personal stories, creative expressions, or other input (including gifs of your work) which you feel would be of interest to survivors of abuse. A special thank you to those who submitted their work for this issue. Each author retains copyrights to their work, no reproduction without the authors consent.
I WANT TO BE FREE
© Diane
I feel so lost, like a child run astray,
I want control of my life, but instead I run away.
I can’t face the truths that come in the night,
I don’t have the energy to continue the fight.
But how can I just give up, and let him win?
He took so much from me, I want me back again.
I’m so sad and depressed and unhealthy as well
But I have a story, one that I must tell.
You see, I was married to a man I thought I knew.
His anger, his ugliness, his violence out of view.
It was only at night, no, anytime of day
He forced himself on me, he had his way.
He was brutal and ruthless and didn’t seem to care
He was hurting me so badly, but "I" wasn’t really there.
Dissociation, or repression, is the name they give
To the one thing that helped me, enabled me to live.
Now I must work through all he’s done to me
Or happiness and normalcy will never be.
It’s painful and frightening, but I owe it to me,
To work as hard as I can, so someday I’ll be free.
LOST THOUGHTS...
Written By: May Poet 13
she is defeated
the pain within
closed to her family and friends
life filled with suicide thoughts
she only knows her insides
are screaming
for peace.
she wants out
no thoughts of what life could be ..
what she become
letting the demons win
without focus
she could end it all.
meet the maker in shame
what is she really worth
dying now.
without sound reasoning
that little girl trapped.
by her abuser
hiding in contempt.
he is the sinner.
you are the winner.
do not give up
until
you complete
your drive .
finding your true self ..
release that little girl
you feel so much pain for.
give her what she deserves.
a happy peaceful life
give up on suicide
its only lost thought .
Untitled:
Perfection is what he demands - she`ll never do - too fat, too plain, too human and much too untidy. Her life impinges on his, cluttering his space, suffocating his freedom - and yet he wants her therefor when he's tired, hungry or the outside world's too hard.
Periodically the presence of this other becomes too real and he has to remove all traces of her humanity, desperate to control the space around him - to reduce it to straight lines and neat edges, throwing her things on the floor so his cupboards are tidy. Leaving her to arrange things in a pre-ordained pattern and throw away what he commands without question.
She tells herself that "things" don't matter. He earns the money anyway, he is responsible for what is allowed houseroom here. But these things mattered to her.
More and more she tries to live her life by his rules but the more rules she knows, the more there are to remember and the new ones keep coming. Now and then she begins to relax, but relaxing means forgotten rules and she's duly punished, anger meted out with speed and intensity. She's aware that he lives by different rules, is answerable to no-one but his need to control.
There were times she was ill, worse still, pregnant. This was not in the plan. Why wasn't she predictable like his machines? Pregnancy spoiled her shape too and another, smaller creature had demands on her body. His environment grew harder to control, as did his anger.
She thought of escape after he pushed her with baby in her arms, both crying. If he hurt a child she would get out.The anger was for her though.The child just caught in the way, as children are, vulnerable beings, caught up in a frenzy of emotion too hard to grasp, too hot to dare touch.
More and more she tried to fit the pattern, learn perfection, while a voice inside her head whispered "you`ll never succeed". Infinitely changeable, she channeled her energies into finding a way of growth for herself but all the time, almost without her noticing, part of her was dying. "you never change, you never learn. Patience is pointless, anger my only tool". In vain she protested her achievements. Oh yes, she'd changed.
He had the power to reduce her to nothing and knew how to use it, still she loved. At times (more frequent as the hurt grew deeper) she cried out to God to harden her heart, tentatively at first then more and more sure that that was what she wanted. Although the thought of it filled her with fear, the pain was worse and she wanted more than anything just to stop feeling it, a woman can only take so much.
She'd become his shield, facing the world on his behalf when his anger made him hide. Like a beast, it was out of control, sinking its' teeth into her flesh over and over and constantly gnawing at him too. She used to believe if they united, joined forces, they could beat it. He had hoped that it might be true too. But he'd stopped hoping. The beast was allowed full rein. [Submitted by "Gill"]
MY LIFE OF PAIN
Written By: LittleDzz
My eyes filled with tears, my heart filled with pain
My body exhausted, because he did it again.
He hurt me so many times, I've been unable to count
It's the way he hurt me that's affected my life, not the amount.
I read all the books, go to therapy as well,
But the nightmares and flashbacks continue my life in hell.
I see a ray of sunshine, just every once in awhile,
But his black clouds of abuse remove any hint of a smile.
Happily ever after used to be my dream.
Now my past engulfs me, as I try so hard to scream.
"Don't touch me, don't hurt me, please stop, I beg of you."
It's as if I have no voice as he continues to do what he wants to do.
His abuse was so cruel and inhumane,
My brain decided to repress it, letting it happen over and again.
I’ll never understand how it was safer not knowing
Because now in every part of my life, the damage is showing.
Now I’m told I must work through this, as to heal, I must feel.
But the pain of these memories brings feelings so real.
The pain is all over: my body, heart, and mind,
I can only hope that someday, peace I will find.
Invincible Released
By: Yellow Sun-Star
I sleep. . .
I dream of a time that never was
Here I fold back the once solid heavy covers that held the friction
I've always struggled with
I float from my bed
and see my body for its likeness
Pure, clear and flowing like a river that can never have rapids
And like the so-called "Jesus"
who walked on the water
I am that water
I'm crystal clear; you can see right through me, you can touch me,
but this time you slip through to the other side
And as you continue your search for me,
you will exist in my dead darkness,
the darkness that once kept you safe and satisfied.
Only this time it will breath and spit back at you
the poisonous venom that was never mine
I dance now
a spiritual dance of truth
Every movement symbolizing
a ritual for years to come
Each step in its perfect place
No stumbling, no falling, my body floats now;
no restrictive fear, no unwanted pain, I feel whole
And even with my trueness exposed as clear as day
there exist within this,
a solidness that you can't see
a solidness that allows me to let go
a solidness that allows me to be what I am
Yellow Sun-Star
Falling King
You hide underneath your shadow and grope at the sun
Cold wind whirls past your bedside but you hold no fear
You think only of your sheer satisfaction,of your boosted ego and
your tasteless mad swept songs
You rise to my fall and wallow in your glory,
Only to leave me reserved and worthless of an unworthy cause
From my inner soul I leap at your body
Hoping to break down the raggedness of your soul.
But I dare not cry out, only sing a sweet surfaced song
while your false shining armour glistens in the sun.
I will not commend you soon someday.
I will rise above your golden armour and see you fall
Then the heavens will see that you are not of true riches,
but only a gold plated surface overlapping a defying rogue.
No longer will I bow and treat you like a king
I'll escape and expose your chambers,
slowly watching the glistening sun cast shadows and turn you,
like dark, cold coal I will destroy
your scrolls of laws that will allow me to speak
Then I will live for each moment in pleasant silence....
solitude .... and peace
Yellow Sun- Star
To My Former Therapist:
How could you lie to me, when you knew my history?
How could you rob my soul?
How could you then deny me, when you held the power?
Why did you take my dignity?
How could you pull me in, knowing how young I had become,
Then push me away when you were all I had?
Why did you allow me to love you from the depths of my heart,
When all you wanted was to ease your own pain?
You held the power, you held my heart, you kept me a secret.
You knew all the time, you knew how to hold me.
You didn't touch me, so you go free.
You didn't touch me, yet I feel it deeply.
You have taken my life, my joy, my heart,
You have all that I ever hoped to be and you foolishly asked of me,
"Can't you take it back"! How could you hurt a child, for that is what
I became. How could you destroy her, when she looked to you for sanity
and safety. I can't take it back. I held my love within me for 48
years. All I can do is offer you the pain, the terror and my tears.
How could you, when you knew it all? How could you lie, deny and break
my heart? How could you take all my dignity too? How could you? Now, I
will forgive you, for that is a burden you will take with you forever.
How could you, how could you? rickilyn
Odds n Ends
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