I found one of my abusers on Facebook a few months ago. Finding him wasn’t as monumental as I thought it would be. I expected it to hit me like a car crash but instead it was more like a wave. I gasped, held my breath and let the wave wash over me. I came up for air. Then the wave was gone and it was just me floating in the calm… Read More
Trigger Points Anthology has been re-released as Parenting with PTSD: the impact of childhood abuse on parenting and the Kindle version is available for free on Amazon today! The listed price is $0 so you don’t need to subscribe to Kindle Unlimited to purchase it for free. Words cannot express how amazing this book is. The stories told by parents/survivors are raw, honest and insightful. If you are an abuse survivor/parent or… Read More
Dear Body, Can we be friends? I know I’m talking to myself and it sounds kind of silly but if I talk to you like a friend maybe you’ll listen. I need to make amends. I’ve thought things about you that if I knew anyone else was thinking I’d be crushed. I’ve said things to you in the mirror that I’d punch someone in the mouth if I heard them say.
“Holding on, Why is everything so heavy?” – Linkin Park, “Heavy” I read back through my posts lately and thought why is everything so heavy? This is where I come to wrestle with my demons and reconcile the past with the present. Sometimes it’s heavy stuff but I have entire weeks and months of uneventful moments that would bore you to tears to read about. It’s time to lighten things up a… Read More
I always go back to 17, most often when I’m driving and listening to music. A song will remind me of how much I hated myself that year and I’m back there, looking at 1987 like a white cross on the roadside. It’s the year I told. It’s the year I lost control of everything. It’s the year I spent two weeks in a psychiatric facility and wished I could stay… Read More
When my friend Marie Pechet died in December, she sent me a spiritual gift. That may sound strange to some of you but anyone who has read her blog or who knew her knows what I’m talking about. Marie was all about spirits, serendipities and God connections. So I wasn’t at all surprised when I felt a strong nudging from her to read a certain book and then found out later that… Read More
I purposely keep walking by mirrors so that I can see myself. When I’m sure no one is looking, I lift my shirt to make sure they’re real. I feel like a teenage girl whose boobies sprouted overnight; amazed, grateful, relieved. And to think that all it took was a little surgery to make me recognize myself again.
I had a two-day meltdown last month, which seems to happen every July. I don’t know what the trigger is exactly, other than that most of the abuse I can remember happened during the summer months. It used to bother me, not knowing why it was always July, and now I think that maybe it’s a mystery that doesn’t need to be solved. Or maybe it is solved and I just want to… Read More
When I was young, we lived off and on in a small adobe house with four rooms. It had water running to the sink in the kitchen but no bathroom. We used an outhouse in the backyard and kept a coffee can under the bed for nights when it was too cold to go outside. What stands out in my memory is how tidy my mom kept the house, taking pride… Read More
“There is a common misconception in our culture about who suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and what it looks like. A quick Google image search will lead you to believe that the majority of those living with PTSD are men in uniform, when the reality is that women are twice as likely to develop it as men, and it can be acquired in a number of ways. Not all wars take… Read More
I discovered David Bowie in my dad’s record collection in 1982 when I was 12 years old. I was mesmerized by Ziggy Stardust and listened to that record incessantly. In my daily life I was trying hard to suppress overwhelming feelings but when I heard those songs, I could cry and lament because it wasn’t me – it was the music. It allowed me to express feelings that scared me in a… Read More
When I come across a picture of myself as a child, I fight against what I see. I see her smiling face but most of the time, I don’t remember being her. In my childhood memories, I’m not really a child at all but something other. I’ve been in recovery for awhile now and I still struggle with explaining what that means, what it means to have never really felt like a… Read More