Be kind anyway……

Every year on Thanksgiving eve I consume myself with projects and things to do. My day is planned out from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed. This has worked for so many years for me so I could escape the horror of this day. I act like the day doesn’t exist. Living in Canada makes this so much easier because Thanksgiving is in October so I can now enjoy the wonderful holiday with my family without any bad memories to weigh it down. No one talks about it here in November so the day really can go by unnoticed. That was until yesterday when Google decided to send me an unwanted reminder just after 11pm when the incident actually took place 15 years ago.

I am not a tech savvy person by any stretch of the imagination. I do not claim to know all the ins and outs of how the internet and Google itself work. I do however know that Google has never before sent me a text message alert that I did not request. I also know I did not come from my personal calendar but my joint calendar that someone else who has been hurtful to me in the past and even the present has the power of imputing dates times and other information. So I had to sit and wonder if someone could be so cruel to set the calendar to purposefully send that reminder to my phone at that time because there are only a handful of people who are even aware of what took place that terrible night until now. I think keeping it all bottled up is toxic. Maybe getting it out will help me get some closure.

15 years ago on Thanksgiving eve I had gone to my small little church and lead praise and worship at our Thanksgiving eve service. I went home and put my 2 little ones to bed and had just turned in myself when I had gotten a phone call from a friend of mine who was having trouble breathing and she didn’t have her inhailor with her at work so she asked if I could bring her mine and I agreed. It was very late at night which I hated but I decided my friend was more important than my fear of driving at night alone. I met her at work, we had a cup of coco and I headed home. On my way home I saw a car stranded on the side of the road. The guy was cold and shivering and there were no other cars on the road. I figured he must not have a phone since they weren’t very popular yet so I decided to stop and offer to let him use my phone. He told me his car had died and he couldn’t get it to start. I offered him my phone and he took it to call for someone to help him. He returned without my phone. He had jumper cables and asked if I would help him Jump his car. I reluctantly agreed. Something told me to leave but He still had my phone and I knew my ex would be pissed if I lost it and I wanted to help. He seemed nice so I popped the hood and got out of the car. There were still no other cars around. he quickly grabbed me and threw me in the back of his station wagon. He tied me up and the rest is history.

I learned this night a few things that night.

 ALWAYS follow your instincts. I was violently raped by this man in HIS car.

 Always call the police and make a report or you will spend the rest of your life regretting it. I was to afraid to say anything. I was ashamed for being stupid enough to get in the situation in the first place,

 You can’t always trust the ones you think you can count on. I went home to tell my now ex husband what happened and he was angry with me for being gone so long. He yelled at me assuming I had been hanging out with my friend to avoid coming home to him and never gave me a chance to talk. I went and took a shower and cried for I have no Idea how long. I didn’t tell him for months. I told my friend first. When I did tell him he was mad at me. Then he was upset and I had to comfort him. The whole situation was so ridiculous. He made it all about HIM. I finally had to go to the doctor to get testing done because we though I had gotten pregnant but thankfully it was just stress. I had to tell the doctor what happened though and I was so embarrassed. My ex wouldn’t even go with me to the doctor. I knew then for sure I couldn’t count on him when I needed him most.

I have learned through the years that I really love to help people and I am NOT going to let the man in the baseball hat steal my joy. I will continue to help people, but I will follow my gut. A cell phone can be replaced. I should have done things differently that night. If I had to do it over not knowing the outcome I would probably still stop and offer my phone but then I would leave without it. Our world needs us to be kind to one another to stop creeps like this man we just need to be smart in the process.

So take the time to be kind in a safe way to someone today and every day, you will be so glad you did 🙂

Are you a bully?

I love my children and I am one of their biggest supporters telling them each day they can be anything they want to be and if they work hard enough they can accomplish great things. I tell each one of them that one day they are going to make a difference in this world of ours and not only do I say it, I believe it!

I find this funny because when I want to do something I tell myself I’m not smart enough or good enough to make it come to fruition. On the rare occasion I think that maybe I have come across something that I am really good at and want to pursue it as a career, I can find countless reasons why it wont work out. When I finally build up the courage to tell someone else about my idea If they don’t sound supportive I use their questioning me as them doubting my abilities. I take that and run with it finalizing how stupid my idea must have been. I then fill my head with thoughts and words they never said to continue to put my ideas down and to show myself that they didn’t think I could do it either.

I think once we are beaten down enough by the people around us (especially if it happened a lot as a child) it becomes so ingrained in our minds that it is hard not to just instinctively do it to ourselves before anyone else gets the chance. We think its easier to hear it from ourselves than someone else. Is it really?

Its so hard to stop that cycle and go out on a limb and do whatever it is anyway. Scarred your going to fail. Worried your going to let someone down or not be good enough at one more thing. For once you want to prove to everyone including yourself that you CAN succeed. You CAN do it! Maybe that person you made up words for WOULD have been supportive if you had given them a chance to be, maybe they wouldn’t have. We will never know because we didn’t give them the chance. What’s the harm really in taking a leap of faith and trying. Isn’t it worse to always wonder what could have been?

I do know we have been being a bully for way to long and it has to stop. If we wouldn’t say it to our children then why would we say it to ourselves! Let’s put a stop to one of the biggest instances of bullying that takes place in almost every home. Are you a bully? I am.

 

 

 

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Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Maybe being invisible is exactly what we need. That way the beauty from within has the chance to shine through.- Cecilia Dey

Since I can remember I have done everything I could to blend in and not be noticed. To look like everyone else so I won’t stand out. I hate it when people stare at me. When people even look at me I get uncomfortable. I start to feel small, like there is something wrong with me. I get anxious my heart begins to race, I feel hot and I want to just go or be anywhere else and get out of that situation. I actually like the idea of being invisible.

As an abused child you learn to be invisible, you learn to do whatever it takes not to be noticed or to stay out of the way. Its a way of survival, if you’re not noticed its one less hit, punch or kick you will have to endure. One less time you will be thrown in the cold damp closet. One less time someone will come in your room at night while you’re trying to sleep. Its one less bad memory you will have to remember.

I looked up quotes on being invisible and there all bad. Why is it so wrong not to want people staring at you or noticing you? It’s probably one of the biggest reasons I like to just stay at home. Home is my safe place. The place where I don’t have to worry about anyone staring, pointing or ogling me. It’s probably also one of the reasons I hate having pictures taken of myself, its like your captured there for someone to stare at whenever they want and you don’t have a say in it.

Yesterday I got “all dolled up” for a special occasion. I curled my hair, put in my contacts, did my makeup and wore a nice dress. As my husband said “I looked amazing.” I was very much NOT invisible!

I had to get ready before the kids came home so the looks and stares started at the bus stop. Even the kids knew something was strange asking where my glasses were and why I had makeup on. The looks continued at the restaurant and throughout the evening. I know it makes my husband feel very blessed to be out with a beautiful woman on his arm and It was his night to shine and I love him so that is why I did it. On the other hand…The stares and finger pointing make me feel like less of a person. I’m not something to look at! I’m someone to talk to, to get to know. There is more to me than what I look like.

I like dressing up and looking great for my husband because I feel safe with him. Its the rest of the world that scares me. I hate admitting that. I tell myself that I have overcome so much and that I am such a strong person but honestly I am scared of the world. I hate that I have a nice body and a pretty face. I hate that my hair makes me stand out and get noticed because it gets me in trouble because THAT is exactly what sick men look for. Knowing that is scary! I know its not my fault but I also know its my burden.

Unfortunately even when I don’t do my hair and makeup or put a dress on my body shape, natural hair and generally look still attract attention. I hate it!

I was an early bloomer as they call it and had to buy my first bra by the time I was 11. This was great for my dad because it allowed him to expland his client base and sell me to more men who wanted a more mature looking girl. They still wanted the young youthful girl but not a child. He lost buisness as well. Some people are that sick! These guys were rougher though and wanted more. It became clear that blooming was a bad thing and being “beautiful” was even worse.

Someone who has been through hell and back doesn’t have the privilege of walking down the street unaware like everyone else. At least I don’t. I assume I’m not the only one who feels this way. I notice every twig snapping under foot, every car driving by and every person walking near me and my children. I get anxious in busy places because my surroundings cannot be easily identified due to too many people, noises etc. I like to know what is around every corner. People like me know what lurks in the shadows. Hell, who am I kidding we don’t even need the shadows anymore. We know what is standing right under our noses in our office buildings, restaurants, churches and neighborhoods that just hasn’t come to light yet.

I don’t WANT to be afraid of the world and since I have left the town of terror I’m not as worried as I once was but time and time again I have been let down. So I would much rather be invisible than hurt.

Now the part where this gets tricky is that when I say I want to be invisible that is very true, but I don’t mean I want to be ignored. I want people to see the real me, the me who cares for people and goes out of my way to make people happy. I want my exterior shell to be invisible so my inner beauty can shine through. I love to help people (which has also gotten me in very bad situations in the past before) but helping people brings me joy. When I’m helping others that fear is gone. I have learned over the years that you have to put safety first when helping others. (I will never again stop at night to help someone stranded on the side of the road.) I think before I act now and follow my gut. If it feels off I don’t do it. But helping others and giving of yourself is such a wonderful feeling that nothing else can compare to. That is how I want people to see me.

I also love capturing happy moments of others on my camera. There is so much beauty in this dark world we live in and I love being able to seek it out. Things like flowers or animals, happy familys and children. When i’m doing that the anxiety about what is bad in the world disappears for a little while and I can be the me I want to be.

I want to make a difference in the world and help other women and children not have to go through what I did. I want to spread awareness about sexual abuse and the signs to look for in children who may be getting abused. I want to help parents know how to teach their children how to stay safe and what good touches and bad touches are and to always talk to someone if something doesn’t seem ok and to never keep secrets no matter what even if its their parents that are hurting them. One day I will make this happen… but for today I have my glasses on, no trace of any makeup and I’m staying in my happy place as invisible as possible. Where no one can get to me and I can freely be me. Surrounded by safe people I love.

COPYRIGHT

Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

I feel like the weight of the world is resting on my shoulders and there is nothing I can do to get out from under it.

Have you ever had so many things going on at one time that you thought your head might explode?

Did it explode?

I have been going through a really trying time over the past month or so and have disconnected from anything not vital to daily life and care of the family. I have missed writing but really needed to put it on the back burner while things settled down a bit.

My oldest son graduated recently. Anyone who has ever been there will understand preparing for that and a graduatuion party. That in itself is hard enough but for us this was the first time a lot of our family and friends were coming to our new home. That meant I was doing a lot of cleaning, organizing and stressing while taking care of all the kids and working on the weekends.

Then there was the actual planning of the party and what to eat, how much to make, what to buy, where to buy it from, when to buy it, where to store it. Then you have the guests and where they will eat or sit. Then comes the idea of how many people will be in the house and you realize that is a lot of people. Then the anxiety begins….

Everything turned out ok. Family and friends ended up being here in shifts. Not what we originally planned but it worked out well. The house was in good order. The yard was landscaped and everyone survived and had a good time.

One thing down…..

I was also dealing with a past person of conflict who was being a real pain in the tucas. We do not agree what is best for the little people so we are allowing a 3rd party to decide. This person was constantly making bulling statements or trying upset me or play head games. I had to face this person and worry about what from my abusive past he might try to use against me to make me look like a bad mother. This situation practically consumed me. The stress was beyond words. I want what is best for the little ones and I truely belive their place is with me. I’m waiting now for the 3rd party decision. Waiting is just as nerve wracking.

Then just to add a little icing on the nice big cake of fun I have been sick. I have lost a lot of hair. I know that sounds weird but when I say a lot of hair I went from having a 2 inch thick pony tail to a half inch thick pony tail. I have lost twenty five pounds in Two and a half months (no complaints) but I haven’t been doing anything to loose the weight or trying to. I just have no appetite. The thought of eating just doesn’t apeal to me. I eat if I’m hungry but I’m not hungry often. If I eat and I’m not hungry I end up very nautious and feeling very sick for the rest of the day. I get a lot of headaches that are just unbearable. I have all over body aches and joint pain and swelling in my feet and legs. Sometime it is in by wrists  and hands as well. I get rashes on my arms that bleed and are worse in the sun. If I go out in the sun I am pretty much done for the day from exhastion. I think I hate that the most because the kids love to play at the park. I get this weird rash on my face (cause that’s pretty)on my nose and cheeks. So i’m trying to deal with the above with no energy. A few years back I was told I had lupus but a few months later told it wasn’t lupus. Now I am being told it probably is again.  The more I read about it the more everything makes sense that it is. The numerous lost pregnancies can even be accounted for with Lupus. I have been referred to a rhumetologist after my initial bloodwork came back concerning so I am just waiting on this news as well.  I need to prepare myself for that apointment and the possible outcome. Stress makes the symptoms of lupus worse so your suppose to avoid stress….I don’t see that happening.

With the first two obsticales basically done I can focus more on my health. I can try to relax a bit more. Waiting is stressful especially when there is so much weighing in the balance. I have to remeber I have already come through so much I can handle whatever life throws my way.

That goes for all of us. Life may seem unbearable and like we can’t get through one more day. We have to take it one day at a time and that day will come when you can breathe a little easier, even if its just for a short time until the next thing comes up. We all have that strength in us and we should confide in those closest to us and try not to carry thease burdens alone. I tend to isolate myself when I’m struggling. I only want people to see me strong and capable. I don’t like being weak and vulnerable. It makes me uncomftorable, embarrassed and even ashamed at times. I tend to get snippy with the ones I love becouse I want them to stay away from me so they don’t see my vulnerable side. I don’t understand why I would rather them think I was angry than know I am sad or hurting. That doesnt even begin to make sense. They know I love them and I always apologize when I get that way but I have to learn to hold people close and not push them aside. The weight of the world wouldn’t be nearly as heavy if there were more shoulders to carry the load.

COPYRIGHT

Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

How are you? The forever unanswered question.

How many times has someone asked you this question and the truth has flooded your mind with a menagerie of words that describe the many emotions of how you feel. If you’re anything like me this has happened far more often than you would care to admit.

Now for the clincher, how often do you divulge this information on the poor unfortunate soul who dared open this window into your world? Once in a while… rarely….never….well my go to phrase is….”I’m fine.” I have learned that this is the case for most of society as a whole.

Most people have come to say this out of habit. A lot of people have come to ask people how they are doing out of habit as well. Like it is a greeting like hello. People don’t truly care about one another the way they used to. When I ask someone how they are doing I don’t accept “fine” as an answer. I always ask what fine means. Its funny because most people are taken aback when I ask this. Everyone really has to stop and think for a couple of minutes because even they don’t know how they really feel when I ask this question. No one knows what fine means, they just say it. 

When people take the time to think about how they are feeling they feel cared for and important by those who ask. Its nice to be cared for. I have a tendency to be resistant to being cared for by others. I think most survivors do. We feel like we can only trust ourselves and everyone else will ultimately let us down. I have been let down time and time again by people who said they cared for me and I am sure many of you have felt this way as well. I just choose to believe I was meant to learn something, from each of those relationships. That doesn’t make it hurt any less but it makes the pain at least a bit more bearable.

If someone was to ask me today how I was feeling and really wanted the truth they would be in for an emotional ride. I’m undergoing testing for a Lupus diagnosis and that alone comes with many mixed emotions. Its not like I really have a say in the matter. It is what is and I have to take it one day at a time. Honestly, I find it scary and frustrating that it wasn’t found much sooner especially when a doctor said I had it 9 years ago and then another doctor dismissed it. Perhaps this is my fault for trusting that specialist thinking he should know best being his field of expertise. So perhaps there are too many feelings there to try to sum it up.  I’m in a stressful legal battle with a past abuser who is manipulative and trying to continue some of that behavior now. Which is making the health issues worse. To top all that off my eldest child is making poor decisions and about to move out on his own and I want to see him succeed. So I am an emotional mess, with numerous health problems trying to pretend everything is A Ok. I Try to do my daily tasks the best I can as the mom to my many little ones. I am also about to open a new store at work in the fall. Lots to do, lots to think about…..now its your turn…

What does fine mean for you? Really? How you feel is Important. You matter.

Think about all of this the next time you ask someone how they are doing. Do you really mean it? Are you just saying it in passing to be nice. When they tell you fine why not challenge them and ask them what fine means. You may be surprised by the truth. Maybe they are really struggling and could use a friend or maybe they are rejoicing about something wonderful. Either way you can be there for them and you may just build a better relationship.

COPYRIGHT

Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Surviving as a mother

I know I have shared this before but I will share it again. I am a mom of many children. So what does that mean? Well I honestly dont know. I have been pregnant 14 times. I have given birth 6 times. There are other children who I raise in my my home and love as my own. I choose to count them as my own even though I didn’t give birth to them so how does that work? Do I have 14 children plus my special ones or only 6. Do the 8 who were lost for one reason or another not count?

This is a question I have heard many moms ask when they have lost a child. If you believe in heaven you have the comfort of knowing your child is safe in the arms of an angel being loved and cared for waiting til the day you join them. If you don’t believe then maybe you didn’t even believe the baby was a baby and you’re not worried about it. In most cases I have not found this to be the case though. Most moms feel a great loss when they were once pregnant and then are not. Some feel like they did something wrong. Some feel like they didn’t deserve to be a mom. Some of these women feel like it is because of something they did from there past, like a punishment for something. For people who don’t believe in a higher power there sure being punished by something.  Whatever it is, its a great loss. One we all can agree leaves us a different person no matter if we go through it once, eight times or a hundred times (and if anyone went through this a hundred times I am sorry for your loss just doesn’t cut it for you. You my friend are my hero!)

Most people I have encountered have chosen not to include the lost ones in there numbers. The reason for this is that people feel the need to count your brood. Its like they don’t believe you. They need to make sure you know how many kids you have. When you count your lost ones you get unwanted questions like….well I only see 7 where are the other 7 or I only see 5 where are the other 9. Like you have to justify yourself to these people.  Even if you were only pregnant once and lost that one people will notice there is no child with you and make comments. People are not nice. I call this mom bashing.

Mom bashing is a huge problem in our society today. It happens in every age group. No one is immune or safe from it. Every mom raises her children differently as she should. Every mom is a unique individual with her very own story that we don’t know. She also has her very own unique children. Each one of them is different and unique and they are each creating their own stories each and every day with her help.

I don’t know about you but I parent each of my children differently to the best of my ability. My children don’t think this is fair. This phrase always makes me chuckle a little every time I hear it. I learned a long time ago that life was not not fair. Each day while my classmates played with barbies and learned to ride bikes as their parents hugged and kissed them lovingly,  I would be forced to lay still while men stole my childhood and innocence as my mom slept all day and my father beat me that life was Indeed not fair at all.

When my children are brave enough to confront me about the way I parent the other children differently I lovingly remind them about the ways I treat them differently compared to the other children. I am always amused that they can justify why them receiving special attention is ok. When they are the center of attention and the focus of the conversation they become uncomfortable and try to turn the focus back on the problem at hand which is my favoritism of the other children. I remind them that if I stop it for one child I will have to stop it for everyone because that is fair. You see they don’t really want it to be fair they just want it to always benefit them and that is selfish. I choose to not raise selfish children which means I will have children who are not always completely happy. They will be well adjusted and able to cope with disappointment in a healthy way. I am sure I will continue having this conversation as the years go on with them. They have even tried to bring my husband in on it. I told my husband very plainly,  I am not their friend I am their mom. They don’t have to like me but they do have to respect me. I love my kids very much, they are all very different. I love that about them.

I wish everyone could see that about not only their kids but as other moms as well. If we were all the same we would have nothing to learn from each other. We would have nothing to talk about and life would be really boring. I love talking to new people and hearing what they have to say and how they do things. Unfortunately I am always worried I will run into a mommy basher. This is a mom who thinks she knows everything and will put you down for everything you do because your way is the wrong way. I have run in to many of these moms especially online. They lurk in chatrooms, on facebook and anywhere moms go for advice. They just wait to pounce on the unsuspecting already feeling bad about herself mom who just needs someone to give her a hand up, not a kick to knock her down even more.

Moms groups form to build bonds because we all have one thing in common, were moms. We love our children and we want to be the best moms we can be. We can learn from each other because of our different backgrounds and stories. It makes me so sad every time someone post a question unanimously. It makes me even more sad when the post actually says no bashing please at the end. They know its going to happen before they hit send. They know those moms are lurking around, just waiting to pounce and put them down. The really sad part is they still do. Even with the disclaimer and the plea for them to be left alone the bashers just can’t help themselves and pounce any way. They ridicule them and make horrible comments.

We should all live by the rule that if what we’re about to say does not

-add positively to the conversation

– boost someone in a positive way

-prevent someone from being embarrassed or hurt in some way

Then

it is probably safe to not say it at all.

Lets build each other up and not tear each other down. You know YOUR story but you DO NOT know your fellow moms. Their story may be one filled with things that are unimaginable to you. Let them have a day free from unnecessary comments and full of grace and kindness. Pehaps on your day of struggle (because we all have them) the same gesture will be shown to you.

COPYRIGHT

Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Forgiveness, a very touchy subject for surviors.

I learned a very long time ago that I did not understand forgiveness. What those people did to me growing up was not ok. I would never be ok with it so forgiveness was completely out of the question for me. I was sick and tired of people telling me I had to forgive my many abusers. They certainly wouldn’t have forgiven them if they had to go through the torture that I had to endure. Sure it was easy for them to tell me to forgive because they had no idea what I was forgiving.

Were they tied to a bed with ropes and chains before they were 10 that were so tight it caused broken wrists and ankles as punishment from moving as they were abused or because that is how the paying customers preferred their girls be when they arrived for one of their sick visits. Probably not. My wrists to this day are very weak and bother me because of how many times they have been broken. My ankles roll and twist easily and I play it off that I’m a clutz but again its because of the many broken bones I suffered as a child.

Did they have to try to lay as still and quiet in there beds breathing as shallow as they could hoping when someone came to their door they would think they were asleep or dead and decide to leave them alone that night. Of course this was wishful thinking but a girl could dream couldn’t she?

Did they have a pediatrician who took “alone time” with the child patient as payment for the visit. This was a doctor who took an oath to do no harm. He was supposed to protect me and report this kind of thing to a social worker if he suspected anything. He was not supposed to perpetuate the problem. But that is exactly what he did. He would patch me up so I could get back to work and then send the staff to lunch or home for the evening and take his payment.

How could I forgive people like this?

It always made me so angry when someone would have the audacity to tell me I had to forgive these animals for the atrocities that they did to me.

It started with the dean of my private school. She really liked my father who was my main abuser. He was a manipulative man who could be whoever you needed him to be. A computer wiz, a pastor, a salesman whatever you needed he would make it happen. She thought very little of me. From what my father told her I was a troubled child who was disobedient and needed a stern hand to stay in line. He told her I needed to be in that school because I had been kicked out of my last 2 schools and the public schools were not sure they wanted to deal with me any more. He felt a good christian school was just what I needed to be watched over and kept in line. They took me in as a project and I was treated as such by my fellow students.

Part of what my father said was true as it always was. There was always a small fraction of truth in what he said. I was kicked out of my 2 previous schools the first one was actually his and my brothers fault for fighting with the principal. The second school there was an issue with a boy who wouldn’t keep his hands to himself and I hit him and my dad beat the pulp out of me for it. The boy did it on 2 other occasions and I out of reflex hit him each time because he always snuck up on me. I didn’t hit him just to hit him I would never do something like that.  In all fairness though he should have been suspended too because he kept touching me innapropriatly. The principal said boys will be boys and I got upset and yelled at him. In hindsight that was also a bad idea because I paid severely for that decision at the hands of my father since he agreed with the principal. I was also asked to not return to the school the following year due to my lack kf control leaving me to once again find a new school. This time with the above mentioned horrible forgiveness pushing dean.

During this year my father was arrested and discovered for his abuse I was hospitalized where the abuse was discovered and a whole lot of “bad stuff” happened.

In the midst of the bad stuff I was escorted daily to school in a squad car while a police officer stood guard at my classroom door and went everywhere I did (even the bathroom) it was fabulous. The Dean was not happy at all with the police officer in the school building and made sure I knew it. For some reason she thought I liked the attention. She would call me to her office frequently to find out how my father was doing. I normally said fine or ok until one day I snapped and started telling her what a horrible jerk he was. She told me what an ungrateful child I was and that he had done so much for me. Honestly it was the one time I was grateful for the police officer outside the door. When she heard the shouting she rushed in and made it very clear to the dean that my father was in police custody and she was there to protect me and to make sure I did not speak to anyone abut the details of the pending trial and that my safety was her upmost concern. The dean was taken aback by this not realizing my father was in custody and had hurt me. I was released from her office amd sent back to class. A week later she called me back to force me to forgive him and to tell me I would go to hell if I didnt. She also told me even though she didn’t know what my father did that if it warrented police detail he would most likely end up there to so unless I wanted to spend the rest of eternity with him I would forgive him and not testify against him and forget everything that happend.

This adult woman, this dean of the school had no idea of what forgiveness was. She also had no right to judge me or my father. She didn’t know any of the circumstances in our lives yet she felt she could cast judgment upon both of us. Wow aparently the title of dean is one of great power. Luckily I have learned what true forgiveness is and I do forgive her and have put her on someone elses hook. Somene else can deal with her. I’d rather not have to deal with that mess in the future thank you very much.

True forgiveness is not forgetting the pain of the past. Its not acting like it never happened. Its just letting it go. Once and for all letting it not control you any more. Its not letting the anger you hold toward the people who hurt you make you bitter anymore. Its not allowing the pain to eat away at the very depths of your soul any longer. Its the day you finally say enough is enough and you don’t let them ever hurt you again.

-Not the memories

-Not the wispers in your head telling you your no good or you will never suceed.

-Not the visions of the past that sneak up on you when you least expect it.

Put them on someone elses hook! Gods, Charma’s, Mother natures… whoever it is for you put them on their hook. Anyone but yours. You dont need that burden anymore. You have dealt with that person/those people in your life for far to long. Enough is enough already and it is time to finally let them go and be free.

It is such a good feeling to rid yourself of their filth. Take them off your hook and stick them on someone elses hook and forgive them. Not for them but for YOU!

Forgiving is NOT forgetting! I can’t express this enough. It is freeing yourself from anger and pain. It is a release for you from everything your holding in. Let it go. Be free. Move on. Live a life of healing and happiness. Don’t let the pain from you past hold you back from the beautiful future that is waiting for you.

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Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Wakka wakka wakka – Fozzy bear

I went to make dinner today feeling very tired from a lack of sleep lately. My young daughter asked me what we were having and I reluctantly told her pineapple stir fry knowing she would probably not like my answer. She asked if she could help make it and wear her apron so I agreed not wanting to fight with her. My son decided to chime in with whatcha gonna cook it in momma? I told him in a pan with a long sigh so he could tell I was on no mood to play around he laughed and I gave him an unamused look he said no silly a wakka wakka wakka….sigh my daughter is still cackling and I have to admit even I cracked a smile.

Kids….gotta love em!

COPYRIGHT

Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

I’ve given up on trying to be anybody’s dream -Rob Hill Sr.

I see people every day who look so happy. I am happy some days too. I want to live my life that way all the time. The thing is I want to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that everything is going to be the same if i’m not ok too. I’m tired of putting on the happy face when I’m angry or sad. I want people to love me for me no matter how I am feeling. Happy or not, smiling or crying. My family probably would the real problem is me. Would I be able to face myself? I am my own worst critic. I still hear the words from my past haunting me in my present. I’m not good enough. I shouldn’t dress like that. Never show emotion. Crying is weekness. No matter how hard I try the nagging thoughts always catch up to me eventually.

I try so hard to blend in and be invisible. I don’t want to stick out in a croud. I want the exact opposite I want to be invisible. To some people its funny but to me its not. For example today I had to go bra shopping and I’m sure you ladies will understand how upsetting this ordeal can be. I have lost about 20 pounds so it was time to do this. So I went to the one store I know I can always count on finding what I need. The woman helping me felt the need to make a coment about how most women my size have had to have surgury to get there and I should be proud of the girls. So there I stood completely embarassed half dressed just wanting to find one of these horible contraptions to fit my overly busted thin banded body so I could leave. I finally found one to fit properly told her I would take it and left. I don’t understand why everyone wants so badly to stand out and be seen. So many people want to be in the spotlight, up front and center. The lady helping me shared that she was barely an A cup and would take mine any day I told her she could have them and I wasn’t joking.

Later on while talking with my husband I brought up getting low lights and hight lights. He likes my hair the way it is because its unque. “Most women kill for hair like mine” I want to get them so it has colour and so I blend in. He made a joke to be funny. I didn’t find it funny and got upset and ended the conversation. I just want something different. I want a change. Everything else is changing so I’m ready to change everything a little bit to go with it.

Now I just have to work on the critic of me…

We all need to work on things each day, some days are easier than others. What is it you need to work on today?

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Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, I will try again tomorrow – Mary Anne Radmacher

I have been struggling a lot lately. I thought after everything settled down after we made some changes everything would be so much better. I would no longer have the constant reminders of my abuse looking me in the face. I could walk around and be free. No more fear of running into an abuser. No more going to places where I was abused. No more bad memories all around me all the time.

 

I finally have exactly that. My walls are down and I’m not in a constant state of worry. I can walk anywhere I want with no fear. I can take my kids to the park or go on a leisurely stroll through the neighborhood or any neighborhood with no flashbacks, no looking over my shoulders or around corners or buildings before we go into open spaces. It really is a wonderful way to live. I am sure some of you can completely identify with this feeling of complete and total freedom. I’m also sure some of you can identify with the life of fear. I have never felt this life of freedom before. I have always lived a life of fear. I went from a life of abuse, to a life in seclusion under police surveillance until court where I was put down at my christian school because they couldn’t imagine my abuser ever hurting me, to a life in a group home with more abuse and fear until my mom decided she would allow me to live in her home as long as I did things her way filled with unreasonable things. She never had much faith in me and thought that the only way I would get any where in the world was to ” show leg” since it was obvious I lacked brains. I was going to need a smart man to take care of me. So from then on I worried what trouble my mom would get me in to and even more I worried I would run into someone who hurt me and recognize them, or even worse that someone would recognize me. That’s no way to live especially once you have to worry about protecting your children from that world. I really do love this new found freedom here it is so incredibly amazing that I can’t find the words to really express how wonderful it is.

 

I have learned that when those walls come down it allows room for more healing and growth to occur. I thought with my walls up I was doing pretty well. I thought I was pretty strong. That kind of life was no walk in the park after all. It was who I had become and what I had gotten used to. A smile on my face, being kind to others no matter what, trying to make a difference where I could. I thought I was finally going to have the easy life I deserved with these changes. I have been through enough already after all right!

Right?

 

I have learned that the healing journey is never over. The life of a survivor is never complete until the day we are called to our final resting place. The truth is some days I don’t want to be a survivor any more. Some days I want to just give up and say enough is enough. Luckily this has only happened to me a handful of times. Most of those times were during the abuse or soon after when I was to young to actually know how to end things. I tried, I failed, I had to deal with people who analyzed me and looked at me in horror when they heard what I had been through and had no idea how to help me. I’m sure many of you have been there too. I am normally a very positive person. I am usually very good at seeing the bright side of life and the good things even in the darkest of situations but on these rare occasions I can be overwhelmed by the memories of my past flooding me with pain that is so unbearable I don’t want to move. Images that are so real its like i’m reliving them not just dreaming. I dont want to deal with that any more some days i want to just make the pain go away and never return. Unfortunately as a mom of many little needy people I don’t have that option so I must go on with the daily duties of life. Being who I am I throw myself in full force to overcompensate and try to be supermom then I fail at that to and realize they don’t really need me either. My husband can handle things just fine. In the process I have pulled away from my husband so things are hard there too. So with everything falling apart its all just too much for me to handle.

 

I am not one to cry, crying is weakness at its worst (yes I know this is not true but something that was beaten into me as a child) but I find myself crying an awful lot and I hate it. Letting people down is not something I am proud of. It is probably one of the the things I beat myself up over the most. Today alone I felt like I failed at just about everything I did. This is after having a horrible night where I actually thought my family would be better off without me. The only thing that prevented me from doing anything stupid is that we decided to wait on getting a life insurance policy on me for a few more month due to finances and I love my husband to much to do that to him. I also don’t want to go to hell because I figure my abusers will be there and I refuse to spend eternity with them. Thankfully I was having some rational thoughts mixed within the slew of irrational thoughts and fear has a tendency to win out when I’m fighting with myself.

 

After a basically sleepless night of tears, falling to pieces at my kids school today after arriving late with my son’s lunch because I was helping my other son with something that took way longer than we expected it too, then looking a complete mess trying to make it through costco to come home to find I locked my keys in the house among many other failures that happened today that I won’t waste your time with I typed “I quit quotes” in my web address bar and this one popped up. This one summed up how I was feeling in a nutshell. I didn’t feel like screaming I had nothing left in me. So in the still quiet of the night all I have left to say is I will try again tomorrow. All I can do is hope tomorrow is enough. That tomorrow will be a better day.

Some days THAT is the life of a survivor..

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Copyright Picture This, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material (text and images) without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cecilia Dey and Picture This with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.