I am the light you tried to strangle, the light you tried to stifle in your chokehold.
But my light bled all over the pages of your book, your preconceived narratives, your filthy words and your attempts to bring terror back into the blank space of my eyes.
Who am I?
I’ll tell you who I am.
I birthed revolution in my bones like the many women that came before me.
I ignited flames beneath my skin, using the fiery spirits of women who walked beside me
as matches; we breathed fire into each other’s hearts until the world could see us and from the ashes we were reborn.
Who am I?
I’ll tell you who I am.
I am the fear in your hatred, the pain that you tried to use to violate my sacred spaces, rip me apart until I was nothing,
but I knew I would always be something, somebody, and now I am.
I am layers and layers of the love and power that act as your kryptonite,
and with the words and actions of all those who rose with me, I’ll build an impenetrable wall.
Who am I?
I am the thing that nightmarish people have nightmares about,
wake up sweating about, thinking about —
their furrowed brows tense with self-doubt —
wondering if I and the other warriors I march with could ever come back to life.
Who am I?
I am the restless rebel you tried to bury,
the one you tried to pull out by the root and eradicate when she began to grow from the seed.
Who am I?
I’ll tell you who I am.
I am the girl you left for dead thinking she’d always fall and never rise again.
I am the girl you cut with your razor blade wrath, the girl you thought would never fight back.
I am the girl you underestimated, the woman you tormented, the child whose shackles you tightened.
Who am I?
I think you already know –
I think you understand.
I am the prisoner you tried to cage, the little girl you made afraid –
I am the woman who never gave up, the one who exposed your charade —
Who am I?
I am everything and anything that you will stand againstto try to regain control.
For every source of darkness, there is a bleeding soul,
one that shines so brightly that the entire war zone becomes illuminated.
I am the truth, your karma, the revolt —
I am the resistance, the pieces you tried to keep shattered, coming back together again.
I emerge quietly, but I resound loudly —reverberate through your skin.
My power was never yours, and it was never yours to take.
“Trauma Bonding is like being a hostage who has developed an irrational affection for your captor. They can abuse you, torture you, even threaten to kill you, and you’ll remain inexplicably and disturbingly loyal.”
– Ann Clendening.
I posted this today to help give you a voice to your own abuser/abusers. I have been in therapy for many years, and sometimes, I even doubt these words. The problem is that we were so indoctrinated with their beliefs, comments, gas lighting, manipulation, and co-dependency that we formed a something called “trauma bonding.”
Trauma Bonding is an unhealthy emotional attachment that develops between a victim and their abuser. It is a complex issue that occurs in different abusive situations that include physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. But it’s also important to note that not everyone who goes through abuse forms a trauma bond. However, some people may be more prone to forming a trauma bond due to the early experiences as a form of repetition compulsion https://www.attachementproject.com, 2025). This can happen in domestic abuse, child abuse, elder abuse, exploitative employment, kidnapping or hostage-taking, human trafficking, and religious extremism or cults (https://medicalnewstoday.com, 2023).
Characteristics of Trauma Bonding:
· Intermittent Reinforcement: The abuser cycles between periods of abuse and kindness creating a sense of hope and dependence in the victim. Victims of abuse may be waiting for that next “feel-good moment” in the relationship that also keeps them trapped in a cycle of abuse and relief (https://www.domesticshelters.org, 2021).
v This is also how many addictions keep you stuck. If everything were bad all of the time, you would grow tired and leave. But the intermittent reinforcement is how they maintain control.
· Isolation: The abuser often isolates the victim from their support system, making them more vulnerable and reliant on the abuser ((https://medicalnewstoday.com, 2023).
v I was not completely isolated physically from my support systems. But emotionally I was very isolated. He constantly told me that my friends and family didn’t have my best interest at hand. He would make up lies about things they said and assassinate their character behind their backs.
· Fear and Insecurity: The victim experiences constant fear and insecurity, leading them to believe that they cannot escape the abusive situation (https://www.savantcare.com,2023).
v The constant fear and insecurity that I experienced was, in fact, my prison cell. And I was afraid to leave even when the door was wide open.
· Justification: The victim may rationalize the abuser’s actions or blame themselves for the abuse (https://thriveworks.com, 2024).
v I was conditioned to believe that everything I did that made him angry was my fault. And it wasn’t. Now, I can see that his actions were because of his behavior, not mine.
· Emotional Manipulation: The abuser uses emotional manipulation to control the victim’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors (https://wondermind.com, 2023).
v This right here was the #1 key factor for why I wouldn’t leave. He even told me, “No other man would ever put up with the things that I have to deal with in you. All of the good things about you, which aren’t many, are because of me. You are useless without me. I have given you everything you wanted. And disobeying me is the thanks that I get? Why do you need anti-depressants when there is no reason that you should be depressed.
Trauma bonding kept me trapped in an abusive situation. People have said, “Why didn’t you just leave?” The problem lies in the way they you manipulate you into believing that everything bad that happens, no matter how minor, is the victim’s fault. And day after day, their hold strengths without you even realizing it. And in my case, I felt as though I was responsible for their thoughts and feelings. I constantly strived to be “good enough” or “well deserving enough” to see the person that he told and showed me he could be when we met. And quite frankly, it was always just a game. Their abusive self is “the real them.” Believe your instincts and the colors in which they present themselves. For that is who they truly are.
If you have read through this and have never been in a situation where everything you do is being controlled, consider yourself lucky. But don’t you dare sit there and say, “It was their own fault that they didn’t leave.” That is one of the most callous things that you can say to someone who is currently trying to survive and those that have survived finally leaving that situation no matter how long it took.
You have absolutely no right to tell me or anyone else how we should feel simply because you have not experienced it. I stayed much longer than I should’ve. And there are times when I still beat myself up for it. Now though, I give myself some grace for not knowing how to leave or recognizing what was going on in plain sight. It’s not just one event that causes this. It’s something that happens every single day methodically planned and executed by the warden in the relationship.
Once you leave, I highly recommend getting into therapy. Just because you think that no damage has occurred, doesn’t mean that it hasn’t happened. Even now, 19 years later since I left him, I have phobias, anxiety, depression, difficulty concentrating, and difficulty making decisions. He has left a mark that will last a lifetime. And some of the things that he did I’ll never recover from. He once told me, “You’ll never be without me no matter what you do!” And the truth is that, while he still doesn’t have total control over me, I still allow parts of him to live rent free in my head.
The next post will be something that represents those of us who have managed to leave and have an understanding through therapy how and where to put the responsibility where it truly belongs, on them.
To those who are still in these types of relationships, I see you even when you don’t openly identify yourself. To those who have left and still live in fear, I see you and you’re not alone. To those of us who continue to strive to change those hard-core beliefs that were instilled by way of threats, intimidation, and violence, I see you as well. None of you are alone. And not all relationships are like this.
Find a therapist that you trust and open your soul to them. Coach has been a lifeline of compassion and understanding for me that I’ve rarely experienced. And she has never made fun of or questioned why I didn’t leave. Unconditional support and her teachings have made life possible for me many lonely nights. I will probably always struggle with some things and that’s ok. This process is certainly a marathon instead of a sprint. And there is no time limit for healing. The whole point is to continue showing up and moving forward in whatever way that might take shape. You are not on an island like you think. There are millions of us both male and female who struggle with the effects and consequences of domestic violence and abuse.
You are loved. You are wanted. And you deserve the good things that life has to offer. Thanks for reading! And I hope you look for the next blog in a couple of days that I post that will help you begin to find your voice. The power to heal is now and ours.
Affirmation: My story has power and inspiration through it.
“The connection between domestic violence and animal cruelty is so significant that it is commonly referred to simply as “the Link.” Perpetrators of domestic violence often threaten harm or bring actual harm to their victims’ pets in order to control them, keep victims from leaving, or to punish them for actually leaving or attempting to leave.”
-ASPCA.org
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to discuss domestic violence and pets. I won’t pretend that this topic is going to be easy to digest. However, it’s one that needs to be brought into the light.
Many of us sometimes love our animals more than people. I know, speaking only for myself, that my animals have always been a source of comfort, unconditional love, and understanding that many people can’t fully embody. They have never spoken a word as their compassion is in their eyes. And all they ask for is to be fed and also loved in return. That is, it. Nothing more. Nothing less.
My personal experience with domestic violence is knowing that absolutely nothing is off limits. And it is their cruelty that can always get worse. Do some abusers change? Yes. But if they are not willing to do self-reflection and to look at their own traumas and behaviors, then they will not change. And most blame their actions on the victim.
Please Read The Following:
Up to 75% of women entering DV shelters report that their abuser threatened, harmed, or killed their pets in the presence of children (safehouse.org, 2024).
Up to 65% of domestic violence victims and 48% of battered women remain in abusive homes out of fear for their pets.
Only around 5% of U.S. shelters have any kind of housing for pets of domestic violence victims (https://www.drmartybecker.com, 2017).
Why Do Abuser Use Pets To Terrorize Their Human Partners?
· Creating fear: Abusers may torture or kill a pet to demonstrate what they are capable of doing to their human victim or their children.
v There were many times when I saw and heard my ex-husband’s violence against my animals. He would muzzle my outside dogs all night long most of the time. And he would beat my cats with a belt if they meowed at night. He also scared my cats so much with a broom that they began to have a very strong fear reaction for many years following me leaving him.
· Leverage to prevent escape: Many women fear for their pet’s safety is the primary reason they delay leaving an abusive relationship.
v One of his favorite things to say was, “One day you’re going to look up and all of your animals will be gone. You just might come home one day, and they will have vanished.”
· Punishment and retaliation: Abusers may harm a pet as punishment for a perceived transgression or in retaliation for a partner trying to leave.
v After 13 years of being in a domestic violence situation, and over a year of planning my departure, I left him hoping things would cool down enough to go back and get my animals as a way of saying, “I’m done.” Two weeks later, I went back to retrieve my animals, and most had been starved. There was no water. A few of the ones remaining had been eaten by other animals or were mysteriously cut in half. On that day, I was able to get out two cats and my African Grey parrot. Only three of the many that I owned. My cats were starving and had old, moldy food. My bird had moldy food and dirty water. My outside cats were nowhere to be found. And my dogs had been shot which was witnessed by a neighbor. And the sights and smells can never be undone.
· Forcing participation: Some women survivors tell about how they were forced to participate in illegal acts under threat of harm to their pets.
v Luckily, I was never forced to do this. Because they would’ve had to do something for me. Because I don’t have the capability to hurt my pets.
“Seeing her hurt was more than I could bear.
I couldn’t and wouldn’t leave my pets.”
-Sarah, DV Victim
Women have reported:
“He kicked the dog repeatedly until it was howling in pain.”
“He put his hand into the goldfish bowl in front of my five-year-old daughter and squashed the goldfish, for no apparent reason.”
“I can remember an instance when he picked the cat up and with full force drop-kicked it from the back door. He did it because he saw the cat on the workshop. I thought the cat might die.”
Resources for victims who want to leave with their pets:
· National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).
· The Purple Leash Project
o Our goal: To see 25% of domestic violence shelters become pet-friendly by 2025.
· Safe Havens for Pets
o For pets are sheltering services that help individuals who are experiencing domestic violence or homelessness with a companion animal (https://www.safehavensforpets.org, 2023).
· RedRover Relief
o Mission is to “bring animals out of crisis and strengthen the bond between people and animals through emergency sheltering, disaster-relief services, financial assistance, and education.
· URINYC PALS (New York City)
· Paws for Safety (Rockland County, New York)
· Praline’s Backyard (Snellville, Georgia)
· Ahimsa House (Georgia)
· Shelter our Pets (New Jersey)
· Network for Pets of Domestic Violence Victims (www.npdvv.org).
· This is a list of pet-friendly domestic violence shelters (https://saftprogram.org, 2025).
I completely and unapologetically understand the fear that abusers instill in victims about their victims and their pets. I encourage you to seek help by way of organizations that are listed here and the many others that I don’t have the space to acknowledge. Animal abuse is a crime in all 50 states. And each state has anti-cruelty statutes that include felony-level provisions for acts of violence against animals.
And they will “love bomb” and abuse you until you concede. That is part of their “reign of terror.” They are master manipulators and will suck the soul from your mind and body. And then tell people that you enjoyed it. It is imperative for you and those you love, including your pets, to find a way out of that situation. I beg you to please continue searching for help in every way possible. Because they will do it again. And candy and flowers won’t make it better.
Thanks for reading even though difficult it may be. Please seek help for those you love even if that is for yourself. You and your pets are worth the love and compassion that is waiting for you all. Keep reading. Keep hope alive.
Affirmation: I forgive myself for believing all relationships are abusive and violent.
-Rachel Caine, Fall of Night (The Morgancille Campires, #41)
TECHNOLOGY-FACILITATED ABUSE
Monitoring text messages, phone records, social media activity, and internet search history.
Preventing or forbidding a person from owning or having access to a phone or computer.
Sending abusive messages through text, email, social media, or other online platforms.
Using technology to track a person’s movements without their permission.
Using technology to gather personal information about someone without their permission.
Accessing or ‘hacking’ a person’s online accounts without their permission.
Impersonating a person online.
Using technology to share personal and private images or videos without consent.
v Luckily, social media and the internet were fairly new things at that time. However, once we separated, he was very threatened through email.
STALKING AND HARASSMENT
Following and watching someone, for example watching them from a parked car.
v I was stalked constantly. And he even went as far as to sit outside my job for the entire shift to make sure I didn’t eat any food that he didn’t approve.
Using technology to monitor their movements; this is also called tech abuse.
Sending unwanted gifts to a person’s home or workplace.
v This was done whenever the cycle rolled back around to “love bombing.” He always gave me gifts and the same speech. However, it would only take a couple of days until he was right back to the same thing starting with verbal and emotional abuse.
Repeatedly making unwanted contact through phone calls, text messages, emails, social media and other messaging or chat apps.
Turning up, uninvited, at the person’s home or workplace, or at social activities.
v He would always justify his actions with some type of excuse for why he showed up. And he was always lying. He always had a more sinister reason.
Installing spyware on a person’s digital devices to get private information, or to secretly record or video them.
v He and his brother went so far as to tap the phone lines at our house to monitor who I was having conversations with.
Using webcams and other forms of video surveillance without the person’s knowledge or consent.
REPRODUCTIVE ABUSE
Preventing a person from using birth control or forcing them to have unprotected sex.
v This happened from the very beginning. I was lucky that I never got pregnant.
Pressuring a person to get pregnant.
Forcing or pressuring a person to have a pregnancy terminated.
Forcing or pressuring a person to have medical treatments which will prevent them from having periods or having a baby.
Forcing or pressuring a person to have medical procedures on their genitals.
Abusers will justify and create new ways of cruelty covered with beautiful paper and a beautiful bow. And to unsuspecting victims, they have no idea what kind of damage is done until many years down the road, if and when they get out and into therapy emphasising on “deprogramming.” For years, I’ve questioned if what I experienced was true. And that’s the precipous of their game. They teach you how to doubt your own reality,
I left that horrible 14-year relationship, in 2006, battered and broken. Many of the wounds are still evident, and others are in various stages of healing. What I don’t need a degree to diagnose is how deep some of the wounds run. Being conditioned to be someone who you aren’t. And the constant walking on eggshells still wreaks havoc on my nervous system. And I still get overwhelmed to the point of not being able to make everyday decisions that most take for granted.
What is unseen benefit? For a long time, I never knew the answer to that question. What I did learn was different aspects of human behavior and their “red flags.” Not just physical. But also verbal. I watch how they talk about their other friends and family. I watch non-verbal cues. I watch how they are on both good and bad days. I watch how they communicate. I watch how superficial they are and their intentions. I watch to see, in what ways, they poke fun at another person. Are they being silly or cruel? I watch to see if my needs are considered or is it just “lip service?” But above all, I watch for congruency. I watch behavior with a fine-toothed comb. And for the most part, if I sense that something is off, I’m out. Most of the time, I have to watch them for a little while before deciding about whether or not to end a relationship.
I now listen to my gut. Something that I rarely ever did because he made every decision. And I do mean every decision. My master’s degree never taught me to listen to my gut. Surviving cruelty did. I know what I see. I know what I experience. And your validation is not needed. Thanks for reading! And reach out for HOPE.
“No amount of me trying to explain myself was doing any good. I didn’t even know what was going on inside of me, so how could I have explained it to them?
-Sierra D. Waters, Debbie
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today I want to continue talking to you about different types of domestic violence. Now let’s continue.
ELDER ABUSE
· Physically or sexually assaulting the older person.
· Physically restraining the older person, and limiting their ability to move around.
· Preventing the older person from leaving the house or having contact with others.
· Neglecting to provide basic necessities including food and medical care.
· Using the older person’s money or property without their permission.
· Forcing or pressuring the older person to alter documents such as a will.
LATERAL VIOLENCE
also known as ‘horizontal violence’ or ‘intra-racial conflict’. It is a mixture of historical, cultural and social dynamics that results in a range of behaviours. It is not just an individual’s behaviour. It can involve a group of people working together to attack or undermine individuals, families. Lateral violence doesn’t just refer to physical violence. It is also a form of coercive control and is related to social, emotional, psychological, economic and spiritual violence.
Malicious gossip
Group bullying
Social exclusion and isolation
Claims that the individual does not ‘belong’ in the group
Physical violence
Sexual violence.
*Each of these were done to be when both he and his brother worked as a team. They ruined my name to their friends and family. They told horrible lies about things that I had not done. They both knocked me down. Ripped my clothes. And started kicking me in both my stomach and my back. And if I was being too resistant to what my husband wanted, he would call his brother to threaten me in other ways by saying, “He would pay people to rape me until I couldn’t walk.” And when I went back to my husband and told him what was said he simply told me, “Well, I guess you shouldn’t have made him mad.” In essence, he called his brother and set the whole thing up.
LEGAL ABUSE
Preventing a person from getting legal help, including making false claims about their rights to legal protection.
· Hiding or destroying legal documents and other evidence.
Making false reports.
Not complying with court orders.
Deliberately delaying legal procedures.
Deliberately running up large legal bills.
*He continually threatened me with legal action. I was told that no one would believe my claims about him because he hadn’t left one identifiable mark on me. And because I had been diagnosed with depression and prescribed medication that I was the one with the mental history. The fact still remains that he never had the balls to go to therapy about his own issues. Because all of his behavior was because of someone else. Had they gone, he would have a diagnosis of Narcissitic Personality Disorder and also labeled as a sociopath for his behavior that both he and his brother exhibited without a conscience. I think that’s why neither one of them ever got any help. Because they didn’t want a label that accurately described them.
FINANCIAL ABUSE
Forcing or pressuring a person to get a credit card or take out a loan against their wishes.
Using a person’s name to get a credit card or take out a loan, without their knowledge.
· Controlling what a person can spend their money on.
v He was so tight with money that you couldn’t slide a piece of notebook paper between the cheeks of his ass. I wasn’t allowed to spend money without permission. But he was able to buy whatever he wanted.
Controlling a person’s access to their own money, such as their wages or salary.
v I was never allowed to keep or use my own money. He would come up to my jobs and I was expected to hand over my checks. I was given $20 per week and was told, “Don’t let me find out that you’re eating food that I would allow.”
Using a person’s money without their permission.
Selling a person’s property without their permission.
Preventing a person from getting a job and earning money.
“If you aren’t silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.”
-Zora Neale Hurston
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about some of the behaviors that fit under the umbrella of domestic violence. It wasn’t until I was out of the relationship for a while before I began to see information validating what I always knew. This is not comprehensive list by any means.
COERCIVE CONTROL OR CONTROLLING BEHAVIOR
· Control who a person sees, wears and where they go.
v This was considered normal in my relationship. He dictated everything that I wore. If I chose what I wanted to wear, he would tell me to, “go change. You look ridiculous.” And I was afraid to go somewhere without asking his permission.
· Monitor or track what a person does.
v This was also something that was done on a daily basis. He would call me wherever I was supposed to be and verify it by employees.
· Control a person’s finances, medicine, food, or exercise.
v He always told me that I was not allowed food that he didn’t approve. And I was required to be at the gym at 5:30 am every morning. And he would call and speak with those employees about what type of exercise I was doing. I was also not allowed to spend any money without permission.
· Force someone to have sex or do sexual things.
v I was never given the option to make that choice. I was threatened if I even spoke about that.
PHYSICAL VIOLENCE
· Hitting, punching, kicking, bashing, shoving, or pushing.
Thishappened more times than I can count. He did kick me in the face. But when he and his brother teamed up together, it was worse. The main reason is because my husband didn’t want to say that he participated. And because they always threatened and intimidated me into silence, I never said anything. His brother was his “yes man.” And my husband pulled the strings.
· Spitting on someone or pulling hair.
· Choking or suffocating.
v This typically happened during forced sex. Or whenever his brother would get mad at me, he would choke me as a form of intimidation.
· Throwing things at or near someone.
· Using a weapon.
v This was always pointed at me or laid out somewhere as a form of threats and intimidation.
· Locking someone in or out of space.
v This was often done to show control.
· Stopping someone from eating, sleeping, or having medication they need.
v Every piece of food had to be given an account. One of his favorite things he would allow me to have for a snack was ten olives and ten pistachios. He would come home from work and completely berate me if I weren’t already up. And it didn’t matter that I had just worked a 24-48 shift. He always told me that medication was a crutch. He got mad because I had been given muscle relaxers for a hurt back and proceeded to kick me in the face and throw my medication out into the rain. I was also not allowed to take any psychiatric meds for depression or mood stabilization because, “why do you need anti-depressants when I’m so good to you? And what if someone finds out that you’re taking this? I don’t want anyone knowing that my wife is crazy. Then it makes me look bad. Why don’t you care about that?”
· Forcing someone to drink or take drugs.
v I did this on my own to help deal with being under his crazy world of control.
SEXUAL VIOLENCE
· Touching or kissing someone without their consent.
v I was made to accept his advances.
· Pressuring or forcing someone to have sex or do something sexual without their consent.
v I was told, “Either you give it to me, or I’ll take it. Either way, I’m getting what I want. Make your decision.” Many times, I was bruised or bleeding by the time he was done with me. I had no voice in any matter. He was the “warden,” and I was his “prisoner.” My whole sexual relationship with him was simply RAPE.
· Pressuring or forcing someone to have sex without protection such as a condom.
v I was told early on, “I’m not using protection because it burns my dick. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t put stipulations on how I fuck you.”
*I know this is explicit. However, I want you to get an accurate description of the situation.*
IMAGE-BASED ABUSE
· Sharing private images of a person without their consent, for example images of them undressing or showering.
· Sharing culturally inappropriate images of a person, for example images in which they do not wear items of clothing that they would normally wear in public.
· Sharing intimate or sexualized images of a person without their consent.
· Producing and sharing images that have been digitally altered to suggest a person is nude or engaged in sexual activity.
· Threatening to do any of these things.
*I found out later on that his brother would secretly be filming or watching us having sex.*
EMOTIONAL OR PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE
· Criticizing a person and their choices or actions.
v In his mind, he thought that I was too stupid to make decisions that were considered “correct.” All he ever told me what how stupid and retarded I was.
· Isolating a person form their friends or their family.
v Some friendships I lost forever because they just thought that I abandoned them. What they failed to see was that I would get accused of all kinds of stuff if I disobeyed him. Those who have never been in an abusive situation can’t comprehend losing your power to stand up for yourself. It was just easier to do what he said. Some former friends haven’t even talked to me since that time. And that is about them not me.
· Threatening to harm a person, their family, their friends, their pets, or their belongings.
v He always made threats about things he would and could do with keepsakes or my innocent animals. And if he and his brother didn’t feel that I was getting the picture, they would show up at my parents’ house and start harassing them.
This topic will be spread over a few blogs. As you can see, when I add personal experience, the blog gets much longer. Stay patient and learn from this. It’s a hell that most people can’t understand. And I’m telling you that it’s all true. I was living in a prison without visible bars. Thanks for reading! And watch for the second part in the coming days.
Affirmation: I remember that it is ok to ask for help and receive support.
“Leaving is so hard because your confidence is destroyed. You feel trapped.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about some common misconceptions about domestic violence. Sit tight. These myths and truths will help to dispel some of the things that you might have been told.
1. Myth: Domestic abuse is a “family matter” and the community should not interfere.
Fact: Domestic abuse is against the law making it everyone’s business.
2. Myth: Domestic abuse affects only a small percentage of the population.
Fact: One-third of American women report being physically or sexually abused by a partner.
3. Myth: Only men abuse women.
Fact: Statistics show that 85% of domestic abuse victims are women and 95% of perpetrators are men. However, men are abused by women also. And the rate of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender communities are at the same rate as heterosexual relationships.
4. Myth: Only low-income families and minorities experience domestic abuse.
Fact: Domestic abuse in every area of society. Most previously recorded statistics are skewed due to the numbers coming from public agencies, city hospitals, police departments, social service agencies, and the courts.
5. Myth: Abusers are violent in all their relationships.
Fact: Most abusers are only abusive to a targeted intimate partner. Some abusers are successful in their professions and are very charming. And this is how they maintain power and control. This was how my ex-husband introduced himself. In front of people, he appealed to many. It was once we were not in front of people that the abuse occurred.
6. Myth: Domestic abuse is caused by mental illness.
Fact: Personality disorders, mental illness, poor impulse control, and generational abuse do not cause domestic abuse. Even in cases where a particular mental illness may cause a person to be abusive, the abuse is not specifically targeted at one person but to everyone around during the episode.
7. Myth: Domestic abuse is caused by drugs and alcohol use.
Fact: Where drugs and alcohol are often associated with domestic abuse, they do not cause the violence. My ex-husband never used drugs and alcohol. He was just mean and very controlling.
8. Myth: Abusers are violent because they cannot control their anger and frustration.
Fact: Abusers use anger as an excuse to rationalize or blame their abusive behavior: anger is not a cause of abuse; it is a conscious choice made by them. I was always told that “I was the cause of his anger.” So, in some way, I was made responsible for his behavior. When in actuality, he is responsible for his own behavior.
9. Myth: Therapy will stop the violence. If he/she goes to therapy, it will be safe at home.
Fact: Referral of a batter to is one of the strongest predictors that a victim will return to violence. However, research on the effectiveness of treatment for batters are inconclusive. What is known is that there’s a 50% drop out rate in these programs by those who do enroll.
10. Myth: Boys in violent homes will grow up to be battered and girls will be victims.
Fact: Not all children who grow up in homes where there is domestic abuse are directly abused or grow up to become victims or abusers. It is important to note that children from homes where domestic violence abuse occurs are at greater risk for all of these outcomes than children from homes where there is no violence.
11. Myth: Even if he/she is violent, it is better for the children to have both parents. Children aren’t negatively affected by domestic abuse unless they are actually abused.
Fact: Witnessing violence as a child is associated with adult reports of depression, trauma-related symptoms and low self-esteem among women, and trauma-related symptoms among men. Child witnesses of domestic abuse on average exhibit more aggressive and antisocial behaviors, fearful and inhibited behaviors, anxiety, depression, trauma symptoms, temperament problems, and lower social competence, than children who do not witness such violence. Youth who witness domestic abuse are more likely to attempt suicide, abuse drugs, and alcohol, run away from home, commit other delinquent behavior, engage in teenage prostitution, and commit sexual assault crimes (https://law.arizona.edu/sites/default/files/myths_and_realities_of_domestic_abuse.pdf, 2003).
I hope that you’ve been able to put some of these myths to rest. From someone who has gone through domestic violence, my perpetrator never though that he was doing anything wrong. And when I presented the need for therapy I was told, “I don’t need to go to therapy because you are the problem.” When the actual problem was that he didn’t want to look at the reality of his own actions and behaviors. And he continues to be that way. Keep reading and stay safe!
Affirmation: I forgive myself for believing I have to stay in the relationship until the person changes.
“Never stop fighting for your freedom, you are worth it.”
-DA Survivor-Anon
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negativity energy, go away. Today is the beginning of Domestic Violence Awareness Month. This month is when our voices from all over the globe will be heard. We as victims, survivors and warriors bring to light the horrors of domestic violence and the impact that it leaves on our lives and those around us. Let’s take time out for a little education on a few of the topics surrounding domestic violence.
Domestic Violence is a topic that I know a lot about. Well, I know how to function in it. And I know how to get away from it. But living with the aftereffects reveal a whole other set of problems. Where domestic violence used to be seen as something that only happens to women and their partners. There is more awareness on the abuse of men by their partners. No matter how you identify. It also happens to the most innocent, children and pets. This happens in all forms of relationships. And the statistics are staggering.
Domestic violence is violence committed by someone in the victim’s domestic circle. Which include partners and ex-partners, immediate family members, and other relatives and family friends (https://www.UN.org, 2025). The behaviors can include such things as:
· Physical
· Sexual
· Emotional
· Financial
· Psychological actions or threats of actions that influence another person.
This includes any behavior that intimidate, manipulate, humiliate, isolate, frighten, terrorize, coerce, threaten, blame, hurt, injure, or wound someone. The repetitive exposure to violence teaches children that violence is a normal way of life (https://dvcc.delaware.gov, 2025). And for those of us who leave, constant confusion and every minute of no knowing when something else will happen again, is our normal. And the many years of programming by our abusers takes years of therapy to de-program ourselves. But you will never be who you used to be.
Recovery is not for the faint of heart. It is hard and uncomfortable. And it takes years to undo the damage that was caused on so many levels. I was one of the lucky ones. Long story short, I survived. But the mental damage that was caused has left me crippled in some ways. And through the sleepless nights filled with tears, therapy, psychiatric medications, body memories, flashbacks, phobias, and panic attacks, I have learned that I have a voice that deserves to be heard. And no matter what people say or believe, I can validate my own story regardless of the opinions of others. Because I lived it.
The main thing I want to say to other women and men across the globe who are still in their own processes, “YOU ARE NOT ALONE!” Because it happened to me too. Thanks for reading! Keep smiling and pushing forward.
“I had gotten to the point where I was suicidal every day for six straight years…On that day, I made a choice. The choice to live, the choice to get better for me.”
-Justin
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away. Today, I want to tell you about a couple more suicide awareness and prevention groups. I wish I could cover them all. Unfortunately, there are just way too many. Please familiarize yourself and those you love and are affected.
Stop Soldier Suicide
This is the only national nonprofit focused on solving the issue of suicide among U.S. veterans and service members. They have an aggressive goal of reducing the suicide rate by 40% by 2030. Veterans are at a 58% higher risk of suicide than those who haven’t served.
Other statistics about veteran suicide:
· 6,407 veteran suicides in 2022.
· 22 consecutive years with 6000+ veteran suicides.
· 140K+ veterans have died by suicide since 2001.
· Second leading cause of death in veterans under age 45.
· The rate of veteran firearm suicide has increased by 65%.
· The suicide rate among veterans ages 18-34 has more than doubled.
· Western states have experienced the greatest increase in veteran suicide rate, increasing by 55%.
· 31% Depending on branch, up to 31% of service members develop PTSD after returning from combat.
· 7x the rated of suicide for veterans in the LGBTQ+ community is up 7x higher that for non-LGBTQ+ veterans.
The organization’s impact on veteran suicide.
· 90%+ of our most at-risk clients completed a crisis response plan in 2023, giving them tools and resources to cope in moments of crisis.
· 73% of clients experienced a decrease in thoughts of suicide over the course of treatment.
· 92% of clients who were meaningfully engaged in our care showed some improvement in mental wellbeing by the end of treatment (www.stopsoldiersuicide.org, 2025).
The Trevor Project
The Trevor Project was founded in August 1998 by the creators, James Lecesne, Peggy Rajski, and Randy Stone, of the Academy Award-winning short film “Trevor.” The film was about a gay teen who attempted suicide. The filmmakers then established a crisis hotline for LGBTQ+ youth after realizing that there was not a resource available. They have since expanded services to include text and chat support and resources for parents, schools and others seeking support for LGBTQ+ support (https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov, 2025).
Crisis Services: Providing counseling support services for LGBTQ+ young people 24/7 all year around.
Peer Support: Providing an affirming international community for LGBTQ+ youth.
Advocacy: Working to change hearts, minds, and laws in support of LGBTQ+ lives.
Research: We conduct research studies to equip policymakers and other LGBTQ+ youth providing professionals.
The Mission
To end suicide among LGBTQ+ youth by providing crisis support, suicide prevention resources, and educational programs (www.thetrevorproject.org, 2025).
Thanks again for reading. The more education and resources we can provide each other with, the better the outcomes for us all. Please pass this information along to anyone who could benefit. I am one of those who suicide has affected my life in epic proportions. I am also one who continues to fight for understanding and compassion in a world that is lacking.
Affirmation: I am not alone, and others care about me.
“Our country is grappling with a youth mental health crisis, and it is particularly pronounced for LGBTQ+ youth.”
-Ronita Nath
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away. Today, keeping in line with the topic of suicide, I want to discuss suicide in the LGBTQ+ community.
The prevalence of suicide in the LGBTQ+ community is nothing new. The risk for suicide attempts and suicidal ideation can be 3 to 6 times greater for lesbian, gay and bisexual adults according to the National Institutes of Health. But there are also other statistics to keep in mind.
In 2024, 39% of LGBTQ+ youth considered attempting suicide according to The Trevor Project’s national survey. 1 in 10 of LGBTQ+ youth attempted suicide in the past year. And LGBTQ+ youth are more than four times likely to attempt compared to heterosexual youth. I can tell you that personally, I’ve been suicidal many times because of rejection from my family as a lesbian woman.
Transgender and Nonbinary identified individuals are at an even higher rate of suicide. And almost half seriously considered suicide in the past year. In 2022, 80% of transgender people had considered suicide and 40% had attempted. These statistics while staggering are not surprising. These demographic struggles are way more than they should be with little compassion from society.
Bisexual identified individuals are 1.5 times more likely to report thoughts and attempts compared to gay and lesbian individuals. And 2.98 times more likely to have a suicide-related event compared to heterosexuals according to a 2022 study. And the LGBTQ+ youth of color report higher rates of suicidal ideation and attempts compared to white peers (www.therevorproject.org, 2025). And there are several contributing factors such as:
· Discrimination and Prejudice:discrimination, harassment and violence due to sexual orientation or gender identity increases the risk of suicide.
· Lack of Support Systems: Limited social support from family, peers and community exacerbates the mental health challenges.
· Mental Health Disparities: LGBTQ+ individuals are more likely to experience depression and may face barriers to accessing mental health services (https://mhanational.org, 2025).
For someone who is a member of the LGBTQ+ community, I can tell you that I’ve considered suicide many times. The rejection from family and friends are sometimes more than I can bare. And having worked with someone in therapy many years ago, who was not sensitive to the needs of someone in these communities, there was little progress made. Mainly, because I couldn’t trust her. And she was extremely judgmental.
Since collaborating with coach for almost a decade, I can tell you that I have been able to fully accept the fact that I’m gay, despite my family’s disapproval. And then the religious communities also seem to greet us with bible verses telling how many ways we are going to hell. We all know that “choosing” to be gay is such an easier way of life. There the secret is out.
With the current political administration taking away the rights and freedoms that the Stonewall riots stood against, and the lack of funding for suicide hotlines for LGBTQ+ youth, these rates will only climb. Our families, friends, churches, and government should be ashamed of standing by people who are ok with the policies set in place. We are the same as we ever were. We just wear rainbows now.
There are those beautiful allies out there who remain the strength and backbone of our continual fight for equality. We are youth, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, husband, and wives who just want to be recognized as equals in the eyes of the law. But where reputations and political agendas are from the far right, we must be even more solidified as a community. If someone is for rights with some and not others, I have no room for them in my life. But it’s taken me years to come to this conclusion.
Is it lonely? At times, yes. However, I want people in my life who not only support me but also my friends. The suicide hotline is something that our community not only wants but needs. Many of us have non-supporting families and mine is no different. But I do have a place to live currently. But that does not constitute me putting up with homophobia or fragile masculinity and femininity.
The very few “true” friends I have, understand that being gay is not a “choice.” It’s who I am. And if that’s too much for someone to manage, that’s just too damn bad. To my fellow allies and community members, keep up the good fight. We must take up the original Pride flag are carry on. I love our colors. And I’m proud to call myself a member of the LGBTQ+ community.
Keep smiling. Keep shining. Knowing you can always count on me, for sure. That’s what friends are for. We are seen. And we are heard. And….WE ARE FABULOUS! Thanks for reading. Take what you can use and leave the rest.
Affirmation: I am proud of myself and will continue to strive to do well.
“The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.”
-Douglas McArthur
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negativity energy, go away. Today, I want to discuss veteran suicide. I know that this topic has seemed to get old and fast. However, I believe that the more we talk about the harshness of life, the more the stigmas will begin to disappear.
In 2022, the most recent year for the current data, 6,407 veterans and 41,484 nonveteran adults died by suicide. The rate among veterans was 34.7 per 100,000 compared to 17.1 per 100,000 for nonveterans. Since 2005, veteran suicide has risen faster than any other group. And these rates are unacceptable.
The veterans who died by suicide in that year, 40% were under the care of the Veterans Health Administration. Among those patients, who were also diagnosed with a mental health disorder or substance abuse disorder, there were 56.4 per 100,000, which was twice the rate of those without a diagnosis. And among 1,548 veterans who died by suicide 64% were diagnosed with depression, 43% had an anxiety disorder, 40% had PTSD, and 32% had an alcohol use disorder. However, the highest suicide rates were associated with veterans who had sedative use disorder which include benzodiazepines, barbiturates, and opiates (www.rand.org, 2025). And the stigma about mental health in the military further increase this problem.
Aspects of Veteran Mental Health stigma:
· Fear of judgment and perception: Veterans worry about how seeking help will affect all areas of their lives and especially on career repercussions.
· Military culture: The “warrior ethos” which emphasizes self-reliance and stoicism create barriers to seeking help.
· Loss of security clearance: Some fear that seeking mental health treatment will lead to revocation of security clearances.
· Impact on treatment: stigmas can lead to untreated mental health conditions, substance abuse and increased risk of suicide.
· Self-stigma: Veterans may internalize negative societal views about mental health which can lead to shame, self-blame, and more reluctance to seek help (https://oxfordtreatment.com, 2025).
As an advocate for medical cannabis, I believe that our veterans should be given an ounce of cannabis the minute their feet hit US soil upon returning from active duty. As I personally deal with PTSD, there is not another medication on the planet that can bring me relief like cannabis can. And it’s such a safer alternative to alcohol, opiates, and benzodiazepine medications.
Currently, the Safe Healing Act, which was introduced on February 4, 2025, is designed to prohibit the Secretary of Veterans Affairs from denying a veteran benefit administered by the Secretary by reason of the veteran participating in a State-approved marijuana program and other purposes. But unfortunately, there is only a 3% chance of being enacted (www.govtrack.us, 2025). And I consider this utterly ridiculous. There is an unmistakable problem with veteran suicide. It appears Big Pharma is still in the way of progress. I wonder how many people who oppose this bill must suffer, daily, with the horrible effects of PTSD, anxiety, and chronic pain that “Big Pharma” can’t seem to help?
Our returning soldiers are faced with horrors that no one understands until they’ve been there. And though I have never served our country, I can tell you that the above-mentioned mental health disorders have also almost taken my life many times. The symptoms are horrific in nature. Put chronic pain in the mix and suicide often seems like the only answer to have a break, though it be permanent, for even a moment of peace.
Veterans, in my eyes, should be held to the utmost respect. They should be the highest paid employees before professional athletes. And we as a country should make sure that the best treatment is available to them for the rest of their lives. Some have paid the price of their lives on the battlefield. And a high percentage of others pay with their lives when they return home. But instead of treating them like the heroes like they are, they are often discarded by the government that they so proudly serve.
Is cannabis the only answer? Not at all. However, while they find the modality that works for them, I think that cannabis could lighten the load and make their futures seem a little brighter. Discarding them along with all the judgmental stigmas only adds to the problem. And until this is rectified, we will continue to lose those beautiful people who are willing, at any moment, to lay down their lives for our freedoms. Shame on the United States of America for treating them like that!
I know reading this is not easy. But we as a nation must stand up for these individuals who continue to pay the price every time, they open their eyes. Let’s get past the “reefer madness” ignorance and allow our veterans the opportunity to extend their lives at home. A special thanks and salute to one of my favorite veterans who I’ll call Joe. Thanks for reading! And God Bless America!
“The attacks of September 11th were intended to break our spirit. Instead, we have emerged stronger and more unified. We feel renewed devotion to the principles of political, economic and religious freedom, the rule of law and respect for human life. We are more determined more than ever to live our lives in freedom.”
-Then-New York City Mayor Rudulph Giuliani
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. There’s no way if you have lived since September 11, 2001, that you don’t remember when our great nation was sneak attacked by Middle Eastern “thugs” under the direction of an evil man on a dialysis machine. It was an attack on freedom similar to the attack on Pearl Harbor.
I will never forget the day that 9/11 happened. I was working for a local veterinarian during a truly horrible time in my life. I was in a horribly, abusive marriage where I never got to experience true freedom. I was also in the depths of addiction that was slowly killing me. And he made sure that I was also controlled by an extremely painful eating disorder. I was essentially a mess in every area of my life.
The vet’s office that I worked at had a small television that was usually put on a news channel for waiting clients. That particular day I was busy being miserable, high and working at top speed. The area that I worked in was the puppy and kitten adoption center that was always busy. I was busy cleaning cages and feeding those cute babies when I took time out to go look for something in the main waiting area. I walked in and one of the receptionists said, “Dana, look at what’s just happened.” I turned to look at the television screen at a picture that you only saw in movies. I saw an area of a building where an apparent plane had crashed into it. I said, “Do you really have time to watch a movie?” They quickly said, “No. A plane was hijacked and flew into one of the twin towers.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and seeing. I said, “Wait! What?! That doesn’t even make sense.” And for many months following the thought was the same.
Even now I still don’t completely understand how someone could hate Americans to that extent. I took a moment to reflect on everything that I had experienced in life. I looked around to realize that Americans have turned on her own people as evidenced by racism, sexism, homophobia, gender phobia, transphobia, abuse, domestic violence, drug addiction, gang violence, child abuse, mass shootings, school shootings, dangerous elected officials and many other things. But this was so different. It’s almost the attitude of “You can’t come up in our house and kick our ass! We kick our own ass!”
For a moment though, our stature as a “free nation” had been “sucker punched.” Suddenly, whether someone was poisoning our families with their “gayness” wasn’t a big issue. The disruption of cohesiveness within society based on whether someone was wearing a blue or red bandana came to a screeching halt. Hurricane Katrina wasn’t even a meteorological thought. We, as a nation, sat in stunned silence at the harshness of our new realities. Members of our beloved families were now gone. Now we didn’t care if the people in power were red, blue or orange. We just wanted those responsible to pay and pay dearly. We no longer had such different beliefs about life as a whole. And then, the second plane hit.
At this point, it was absolute pandemonium trying to find the source of the betrayal and eliminate it quickly. And then in exactly 1 hour and 24 minutes, heroes from our families did their part to save others from their certain demise by overtaking the cockpit of yet another hijacked plane with a mission of killing as many Americans as possible. That brave group of people who decided that enough was enough said this, “Are you out of your mind?! Who in the hell do you think you are? Let’s roll.”
The skyline of New York City would lose the twin towers as they collapsed from total annihilation. The damage had just been too great. The North Tower of the World Trade Center stood for another 102 minutes. The South Tower stood approximately 56 minutes after the second impact. Almost immediately, rescue efforts to find survivors and/or bodies began and would continue for the next nine months.
By May 2002, the World Trade Center site had been cleared. The rescue and recovery efforts consisted of more than 108,000 truckloads of debris and 1.8 million tons of wreckage that were removed along with many other people who were never found (redcross.org). On September 11, 2001, the terrorist attacks on the United States of America killed 2,977 people including hijackers. And of these, 3,000 children lost a parent (nymag.com, 2014).
Lady Liberty at the direction of then President George Bush, was pointed in the direction of the Middle East where members of the terroristic organization, Al-Qaeda, and would soon make those “desert thugs” pay for many years to come. We were, again, becoming a group of people who stood with a united front and said, “Your attack on freedom will come at a heavy cost.” And it seemed like the term “functioning” would now have new boundaries.
President Bush addressed the workers and families at 9/11 ground zero by saying…”I can hear you! I can hear you! The rest of the world hears you! And the people-and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon!”
And he launched Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan on October 7, 2001. And expanded the “War on Terror” beyond Afghanistan which would lead to the invasion of Iraq. The attacks also led to the establishment of the Department of Homeland Security in 2002 and the Patriot Act (www.cfr.org, 2025). This led to a 20-year conflict that led to the loss of over 7,000 American lives (https://usafacts.org, 2024).
Major players in the terrorists’ attacks and the aiding and protection of additional terrorists were Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin-Laden. They were both hunted down and eventually executed. Saddam was convicted by the Iraqi High Tribunal of crimes against humanity. And was sentenced to death by hanging. He was executed on December 30, 2006.
On May 2, 2011, the United States conducted Operation Neptune Spear, where SEAL Team Six shot and killed Osama bin Laden at his “Waziristan Haveli” in Abbottabad, Pakistan. He was buried at sea to prevent his grave from becoming a shrine for his followers (History.com, 2025).
When an organization or a group of people decide that American “infidels” are a waste of air and skin, the destruction was immense. And there had been no sneak attack on our nation since Pear Harbor in 1941.We, as a nation, have proven time and time again that when you attack the freedoms of the United States of America, your lives will be diminished like the innocent lives that were ended in the September 11thattacks. Thanks for reading! And God bless the United States of America.
Affirmation: I believe in the resilience and freedom of America. I live with patriotism which I hold true.
“Be careful because cyberspace is a two way street those that hunt and stalk and troll can also become the hunted by those that they harass and attack. Cyberspace has a definite dark side.”
Don Holbrook
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away. Today, I want to talk about another reason that people are committing suicide. It’s the inevitable factor of cyberbullying.
Cyberbullying is bullying with the use of digital technologies. Research consistently indicates that there is a strong correlation between being a victim of cyberbullying and increased suicidal ideations. In fact, once study showed that students who are subjected to cyberbullying are 4 times as likely to commit suicide. And a major increase occurred during the COVID-19 pandemic). Another study found that cyber bullying increases suicidal thoughts by 14.5% and suicide attempts by 8.7%. The limitations are since there is usually not just one factor that contribute to suicide (www.nih.gov, 2025).
I can tell you that as an 8th grader adult bullied me where I was supposed to be safe, at school. And though there was no cyberbullying at the time, due to lack of access to the internet, I quickly began having suicidal ideations that have plagued me ever since. When you’re a child, bullying is such a violation and betrayal. And for me there was no way out. So, I had to fight the best way I knew how. Sometimes it was quiet while escaping within my mind. And sometimes, it was through pure aggression. Sadly, aggression was the only thing to make it all stop even for a moment. But the colossal damage had already been done.
That year of bullying set the precedence for how my life would turn out. I lost all confidence in myself and my abilities. My self-worth was destroyed. And I turned to the only thing that seemed to accept me no matter what my condition. It was addiction. By the time I started high school, I was a full-blown addict of drugs, alcohol, self-harm and eating disorders. And at almost 50 years old, I continue to struggle with them.
I learned that no one was a “safe” person. I learned that if anyone were going to protect me, it would have to be me. I learned that taking the first shot at someone was the safest way to live. I also concluded that no one that I saw as an “underdog” would ever have to fight their own battle again if I were there. I asked for help but was denied. And when I did, the abuse only got worse.
Cyberbullying takes on a whole new level of abuse. And the damage can be irreparable. It’s said and done by people who don’t have to look at you in the face. And typically, most people wouldn’t have the balls to say those same things if done in person. Since our national politics are so unstable, I would venture to say that the amount of cyberbullying would increase significantly. Below are a couple of the cases that I wanted to show you about. There is no way to list them all.
Megan Meier’s Case (2006): a 13-year-old American girl who committed suicide after being bullied on MySpace. The bullying was orchestrated by an adult neighbor, Lori Drew, posing as a teenage boy. The adult was the mother of a classmate. The mother was found guilty of cyberbullying in 2009. However, the conviction was later overturned.
Texas Child Suicide (2023): A child in Texas died by suicide during an online game due to alleged cyberbullying. The suspect lived in Michigan who eventually plead guilty to crimes related to aiding suicide and harassment causing death (www.nbcnews.com, 2023).
In the world that we live in, it is imperative for us parents to pay close attention as possible to what our kids are doing and with whom they are interacting. I do not live under the delusion that it is possible to know everything. I am not God. The only thing I know to do is to regularly talk to my children about the dangers of cyberbullying. And that just because someone is on your “friends list,” doesn’t mean that they are really friends. And that predators disguised as heaven will often put you through hell. And even with that knowledge, I know that I can’t protect every facet of their lives. The very essence of a predator is to go undetected. And to operate in the shadows, often in plain sight.
I hope that you have gained useful information on this topic. I continue to learn each time I blog. And maybe, it’s bringing some type of comfort as I look at these difficult topics. I write thinking, “What can I do to help other parents?” And then, BOOM! Another blog appears. Thanks for reading! As always, take what you can use and leave the rest. Keep smiling. And stay informed.
Affirmation: I forgive myself for believing when I’m bullied it’s my fault because I let it happen, or I was in the wrong place, or I should have known better.
“When you feel like giving up, just remember why you held on for so long.”
-Hayley Williams
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk about some myths regarding the topic of suicide. I was first exposed to suicide at the age of thirteen. One of my friends and classmate committed suicide when we were in the eighth grade. As a child, how do you manage that? I can tell you that among all of the major events in my life that has changed me in some way, the day that I lost my friend to suicide will always rank high on my list. I think, though, that the biggest impact for me was how our teachers and school administrators dealt with the situation.
I grew up in the 1980’s when child and adolescent mental health was rarely recognized. And, honestly, my generation was sort of left with the attitude of “figure it out yourself.” Situations that left gaping wounds were merely glossed over. And so, me and other friends and classmates turned to a life of addiction and suicide. As a teen who was being abused daily by a teacher, and the complete lack of protection from the adults, I was forced to just “figure it out.” I did it in total “self-preservation mode.” The behaviors that I developed were not healthy, but they were there when no one else was.
In the 35 years since my friend’s suicide, I have lost a lot more friends. And sadly, I have built walls all throughout my life that continue to help me through my pain. The one thing that has seemed to resonate through the years is how religion constantly attacks those who have been through the most. And I grew up being marinated in the ideology that suicide was “selfish,” “a sin,” “immediate condemnation to hell,” “the easy way out” and the most “self-centered” act known to man.
A lot of the “indoctrinating messages” I was raised to believe, life made me realize how very untrue and damaging they are and will continue to be. I have been on all sides of suicide. And from a personal standpoint, those beliefs couldn’t be any farther from the truth. Below are a few common myths regarding suicide.
Myth 1: Talking about suicide increases the chance a person will act on it.
Fact: Talking about suicide can reduce rather than increase suicidal ideations. It improves mental health related outcomes and increases the likelihood that someone will seek treatment.
Myth 2: People who talk about suicide are just seeking attention.
Fact: People that die from suicide have often told someone about not wanting to live anymore. And it’s always important to take it seriously. In my own family, these statements have rung true. Or most often, those statements are ignored.
Myth 3: Suicide can’t be prevented.
Fact: Suicide is preventable but unpredictable. Most people have experienced intense emotional pain, hopelessness and a negative view on life and the future. Suicide is a product of genes, mental illnesses and environmental risk factors. Intervention can and does save lives.
Myth 4: People who take their own lives are selfish, cowardly or weak.
Fact: People don’t die of suicide by choice. The emotional pain that they experience makes it difficult to consider different views. Have you ever turned a gun on yourself? I have.
Myth 5: Teenagers and college students are the most at risk of suicide.
Fact: Suicide rates for that age group is below the national average. The age groups with the highest rate of suicide in the U.S. are women 45-64 and men 75 and older. Suicide is a problem among all ages and groups.
Myth 6: Barriers on bridges, safe firearm storage and other actions that reduce access to lethal methods of suicide don’t work.
Fact: Limiting access to lethal means of harm is one of the most straightforward strategies to decrease the chances of suicide.
Myth 7: Suicide always occurs without warning.
Fact: There are almost always warning signs before a suicide attempt.
Myth 8: Talk therapy and medications don’t work.
Fact: Treatment can and does work. I don’t agree with big pharma for many reasons. I guess, though, “life over limb.” Lives are saved with both therapy and medication. Therapy has saved my life for many years now. But finding the right one to work with can be taxing. Most people who are in the helping profession do help rather than harm (mayoclinichealthsystem.org, 2025).
Myth 9: You have to be mentally ill to think about suicide.
Fact: 1 in 5 people have thought about suicide at some time in their life. Not all people who die by suicide have mental illnesses at the time they die.
Myth 10: People who are suicidal want to die.
Fact: The majority of people feeling suicidal do not actually want to die; they just want the situation they’re in or the way they’re feeling to stop.
Myth 11: Most suicides happen in the winter months.
Fact: Suicide is complex and not just related to seasons or the climate. Suicide is more common in the spring and a noticeable peak on New Year’s Day.
Myth 12: You can’t ask someone if they’re suicidal.
Fact: Evidence shows that asking someone if they’re suicidal could protect them (Samaritans.org, 2025).
Myth 13: Strong faith prevents suicidal thoughts.
Fact: Many deeply religious figures including biblical figures have experienced suicidal thoughts. The misconception that strong faith eradicates mental despair is false. Faith doesn’t guarantee protection from difficult emotions and struggles.
Myth 14: Suicide indicates a lack or abandonment of faith.
Fact: Suicidal ideation is viewed from different perspectives. Suicide does not inherently mean that someone has abandoned their faith.
Myth 15: Fear of religious repercussions is a sufficient deterrent for suicide.
Fact: For some maybe the fear of divine punishment can be a factor. However, many faith communities emphasize grace and forgiveness, even for those who die by suicide. And personally, I have rarely seen grace and forgiveness on this topic.
Myth 16: Religion or faith alone is enough to prevent suicide.
Fact: Studies show inconsistent findings regarding the protective effect of religious affiliation on suicide risk. It is crucial to understand that faith alone is not a guarantee against suicide and should not replace professional mental health interventions when needed (https://pmc.ncbi.nim.nih.gov, 2025).
I hope at the very least that some of the myths regarding suicide have been explained. My own personal suicidal feelings have been dismissed the majority of my life. And no amount of “bible beating” has ever helped. It has only made things much worse than they already are. And some of the statements made disguised as “help” by family members, are not help. The statements are just toxic. Saying that you have “x” amount of years living and never considered suicide isn’t helpful. Please don’t play therapist when you’re not one.
Put harmful judgments in the trash where they belong. Love and appreciate those that you love. Because it can all change in an instant. Quit making “their” suicidal feelings about “you.” Because it’s not. And always remember, “Just because someone has a smile on their face doesn’t mean that they’re not suicidal.” Thanks for reading! As always, take what you can use and leave the rest.
Affirmation: I am overcoming depression one step at a time.
“This life. This night. Your story. Your hope. It matters. All of it matters.”
-Jamie Tworkowski
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Thank God, we have made it through most of the hottest months of the year. September is another sticky, humidity filled month before the beginning of the cool down. September is also Suicide Awareness and Prevention Month. I know, it’s another upbeat topic. I think that the topic of suicide shouldn’t be taboo. It’s an unfortunate dark part of nearly every culture. And, yes, it has also affected my life in many ways which I’ll share.
Suicide has always been referred to as “the easy way out,” “selfish action,” a “total disregard for friends and family,” and the most hurtful “a sin.” And it’s really easy for people to throw out opinions that help no one when they are struggling. That is minimizing their pain and abuse.
Having been not only a patient in the mental health system for the majority of my life, and working in the mental health field as a professional, I have also seen and been on most sides of this problem. People are so quick to judge what they don’t understand. And, sadly, suicide is a topic that tends to be discussed in judgment versus with compassion.
I have been chronically suicidal since I was a teenager. I was being abused and put on display for others to see for an entire year in school. I was also locked in a closet in that same room while being verbally abused in any way imaginable. I tried to tell adults about what was going on. However, I was made to feel like it was my fault. This helped the teacher to further perpetrate her abuse. My parents also made me apologize to her for comments that I made to her. But as their child, I was not protected by them or the administration. I was in a difficult situation without the possibility of brighter days ahead for the future.
My suicidal feelings got the best of me one day at school when I took forty aspirin. I had no idea, at that time, that it wouldn’t work. But the thought of continuing one more day at the hands and mouth of s purely evil woman was more than I could deal with. My parents were called and made aware. Nothing was ever done. I was never provided with any kind of help. Maybe it was the “standard” of the late 1980s. I was not given the emotional support to sort out my trauma.
What I did begin doing was self-harm. I had no idea what it all meant, at that time. But I knew that it made things better even if for just the moment. As I’ve stated about my family’s dysfunctional dynamics, I was told just to make it through the year and everything would be fine. It wasn’t. Yes, the abuse ended. But I was not fine.
By my freshman year in high school, I was “balls to the wall” in addiction. Addiction that presented itself in drugs, alcohol, eating disorders and self-harm. The strongest addiction being self-harm. And 35 years later, it continues.
The depression, anxiety and suicidal ideations never subsided as I was told. One day I finally told my mother that had I had access to a weapon, I was going to kill myself. Instead of offering help, of any kind, I was met with anger and told that I was being selfish. My thoughts were anything but selfish. I was hurting in ways that no one knew. And no one seemed to care. So, I suffered in silence for many years.
As a child/teenager when traumatic events occur, your mind goes directly to self-preservation. You do whatever you can to either tolerate the darkness or end the pain. Meanwhile, the trauma of life continued at a level that no one is capable of dealing with alone. My next real relationship was abuse that lasted 14 years. And again, I felt trapped.
If you don’t understand the concept of Pavlov’s dogs, then you don’t understand what it’s like to be held mentally captive while the world sees your situation with an easy out. And the sad part about it, is that they think that you deserve everything you get because you don’t just leave. My parents attributed all of the chaos of that relationship as being something that religion could fix. So, we got involved in church. If anything, the abuse got much worse because now his weapon was a Bible that he read and used as justification that I should be “submissive” to his every demands. Mentally, I was trapped again without any way out. And my self-harm was not about survival. It was about making the pain end.
I would reach a mental breaking point and would stand out in the front yard where we lived and pointed a gun at my chest and pulled the trigger. The strange part was that I seemed to be witnessing rather than taking an active role. I watched that whole event as a spectator. I don’t expect you to understand the power of dissociation. Most people, in fact, are very ignorant about it. Again, I was met with anger from my mother. She kept saying, “Hush! Hush! Do you want to go back to Pine Grove?” That is the local mental health facility. And at that moment all I needed was compassion. But again, I faced anger and judgment. I wasn’t trying to “take the easy way out” or be “selfish.” I just wanted the pain to end. And everyone seemed to lose sight of that reality but me.
The bullet went into my shoulder only a few inches from my heart. And even hospital staff treated me as though I was taking up space much better suited for someone else. Self-harm became a way of life for me. It’s been there when people should’ve been there. But self-harm doesn’t always mean “suicide attempt.” And this is a very sore subject among family members. But I sit as an outcast by my family who want nothing more than the family name to not be tainted by abnormality. They acknowledge that bad things happen. But they just want it to disappear and to quit bringing shame to the family name and instead just move on with life. But the biggest factor, is that they don’t want to be perceived as “parental failures.” It’s still all about the reputation of the family.
People that is not how trauma works. And saying, “We just didn’t know how to help you” is “shit”of an excuse. I was a child when it began. You were in the position to help protect your daughter and you didn’t. Remember, the part of the story where I said, “Just make it out of the 8th grade and everything will be better.” It’s 35 years later and it’s not better. It has crippled me as an adult. And has stolen my hopes and dreams. And I still deal with suicidal ideations on a daily basis. Those never went away either. So, I guess feeling like a “burden” to those who say that they love me but treat me as such will forever be the unhealthy narrative. I’ve asked them to do therapy to help with our relationship. But again, it’s of no importance. And the unspoken belief that I’m unworthy continues.
I wrote this blog to say this, “Quit making someone’s struggle with suicidal thoughts and actions be all about you. You are not helping anything. You only make it worse.” Simply say to them, “Your thoughts and beliefs are valid. Let’s find some compassionate help that will help you thrive. Throwing Bible verses in their face is not helpful. Telling them that they will go to hell is not helpful. They are already living in an emotional hell.
This is not rocket science! Just don’t be an asshole as a rule of thumb. I have been in the position of being the last one to talk to a person moments before they completed suicide. I can tell you this, “I’m not mad at that person. I don’t condemn their actions. I don’t say, “Well I guess they’re in hell now. How selfish of them.” I simply say, “I hate that they were in so much pain that nothing anyone said could break through the cloud of despair.”
Until you’ve been in that position, you have no idea how strong emotions and thoughts are. And if the person felt like they had exhausted all of their means of trying to end the pain in an acceptable fashion, then they see no other way out. Judgmental comments about, “well, they didn’t seek out every source of help” is you seeing in from your perspective only. If you can’t see it from their perspective, you’re one of the lucky ones. Thanks for reading! Take what you can use and leave the rest.
“The Narcissist wants the authority of a king while having the accountability of a toddler.”
-Haryo Aswicahyono
My ex-husband and his brother are both very narcissistic in the way that they manage everything. They are not men. They are boys with very fragile egos that were destroyed by their father. Nothing they ever did was good enough for him. And his explosive anger was the way that he maintained control.
Their was also raised by narcissistic uncles that taught him the only way to raise kids is to beat them into submission. That is also how his grown children operate. If they don’t get what they want, they abuse their victim until submission is achieved. And my ex-husband was that way in every area of his life. Because physically they’re both just broken-down old men who use threats and intimidation. Because they would get beaten physically in a fight.
Where was their mother? Well, she was an uneducated homemaker for many years. And where was she to go or to do? Her circumstances didn’t allow her to take three children and leave. The services were just not available then. But what it caused was continuous trauma to others. If someone doesn’t put a stop to it then the abuse continues to multiply like cancer until it becomes the norm. Then, they become accustomed to what is now their normal life and anyone who challenges that must pay in whatever way they see fit.
I finally got enough and left. But his brother’s wife continues to take emotional abuse. I went into my next relationship and the mark of his abuse also crept in. I decided that I was where the effects of his abuse would cease to continue. And it’s been an arduous process the last twenty or so years in therapy. The way I got though life was so distorted once I was able to step back and realize all the damage that he caused. The most difficult part of living through it is that the PTSD that I sustained from his emotional, financial, sexual and religious abuse continues to affect me today. And sometimes the simplest of things are monumental.
I’m one person who has been through this. And there are millions more people, both men, women and children who are subjected to a malignant narcissist like I was. Will everyone get help that can be so beneficial? Absolutely not. And then the cycle will continue for another generation that are busy building more narcissists.
Oh, the kids can grow up to be successful in spite of the narcissism. Just look at our president. He oozes with narcissism, and he has a cult of followers who don’t see it either. It is all about his personal gain that is disguised as “Making America Great Again.” Those of us who have been abused by a narcissist can identify the “gas lighting” and “manipulation” a hundred miles away. Because some of the same statements and attitudes came out of my ex-husband’s mouth.
Narcissists rarely get help because they never see fault in themselves. They are great at dishing it out. But they absolutely cannot handle it being done to them. He very much wanted to be seen as some kind of a “big boy.” However, he had the emotional maturity of a toaster. My sons are already better men at 10 and 13 years old than he is at 68 years old.
So, I ask you, “How do I support someone like that? I’ve already been through its multiple times in my life. And if you really want to find out the total damage that has been caused to me by way of the narcissists in my life, I’ll let you talk to my therapist who continues to see me struggle years later.” Thanks for reading! Stay educated. Stay safe. And keep smiling!
Affirmation: I resolve to walk away from situations where someone lies, refusing to engage with truth benders or gas lighters.
“Narcissism is a cover for a very weak self-image.”
-Dian Grier, LCSW
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk about narcissism. This doesn’t just occur in world leaders. This occurs within our family members and those we meet along the way. And narcissist abuse will leave a mark on all of its unsuspecting victims.
Before I go any further, I want to tell you about the specifics of Narcissistic Personality Disorder as a diagnosis. Let me see if I can describe these types of individuals, so that you will have a better understanding about what to look for. One thing to note about a narcissist is that they enjoy criticizing others for any little thing. However, if you begin to criticize anything about them, they will quickly lash out with discontent.
First, we must understand the difference between “personality” and “personality disorder.” Someone’s personality is influenced by experiences, environmental and hereditary. A healthy personality allows someone to cope with the normal stresses of life while developing and maintaining satisfying relationships. However, when long term patterns of thinking and behavioral responses are rigid, inflexible, and cause stress and impairment in functioning, the personality is considered “disordered.” To be classified as a disorder the person’s way of thinking, feeling and behaving deviates from the expectations of the culture while also causes distress or problems functioning and lasts over time. The behavior typically begins in late adolescence into early adulthood (psychiatry.org, 2024).
The criteria for a diagnosis of Narcissistic Personality Disorder in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5-TR) defines the disorder as “a pervasive pattern of grandiosity, need for admiration, and lack of empathy.” Beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts. To meet criteria for a diagnosis there must be at least five of the nine criteria. Having a grandiose sense of self-importance, such as exaggerating achievements and talents, expecting to be recognized as superior even without commensurate achievements.
They believe that they are “entitled” to special privileges and have unrealistic expectations for special treatment.
Demanding excessive admiration
· They crave excessive attention from others. And they seek validation and applause for their perceived achievements and abilities.
Sense of entitlement
Exploitation behaviors
They take advantage of others to achieve their own goals. And they lack concern for the harm they cause doing it.
Lack of empathy
They struggle to understand the feelings and needs of others while also dismissing or minimizing their experiences.
Envy towards others or belief that others are envious of them.
They want to see others envious of them.
Inability to handle criticism.
Preoccupation with fantasies of success, power, beauty, and idealization.
Belief in being “special” and that they can only be understood by or associated with other high-status people (or institutions).
They struggle to accept criticism or feedback and become defensive and angry when confronted.
Fragile Self-Esteem
Despite their appearance of how they exude confidence, they really have a very fragile sense of self-worth and are overly sensitive to criticisms.
Arrogant behaviors and attitudes(StatPearls Publishing, 2025 January).
Childhood trauma is one of the most common types of traumas that can contribute to the development of narcissism. And it can include things such as physical, emotional and sexual abuse, neglect and abandonment. When a child is subjected to things like this, the mind has to find a “work around” for dealing with the emotions. Some children deal with these seemingly “threatening” feelings and emotions by developing a sense of entitlement, a need for control, and a lack of empathy towards others.
This is exactly who my ex-husband is. Trying to form a close emotional bond with him was like trying to hug an iceberg. There was just nothing ever there. He got mad and pretended to empathize with others. The fact of the matter is that he considered him “the best” at everything. And he made a point to criticize everyone he had contact with once they left. He and his brother were at the mercy of his father’s physical and emotional abuse that was a direct result of his own narcissism. I’ve known and been around them all and I can tell you that it’s like being around the “Narcissism Entourage.”
I will post part 2 in the next few days. Keep reading. Keep Smiling. And always remember, “Tomorrow is another day to begin again.”
Affirmation: I am embracing my journey towards healing and growth.
“Always remember, if you have been diagnosed with PTSD, it is not a sign of weakness; rather, if is proof of your strength, because you have survived!”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to take time out from celebrating Pride, to give light to National PTSD Awareness Day. This one hit hard as I’ve lived with PTSD longer than I’ve lived without it. And there are so many of us who don’t make it to the other end of the tunnel. It’s an incredibly dark place to wake up to and go to sleep with every night.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) dates back to ancient civilizations and military conflicts. Terms used early on included “combat-related stress,” “shellshock,” “combat fatigue,” and “railway spine.” In the 1800s and early 1900s, the “talking cure: was popularized by Sigmund Freud and introduced in medical literature. And the treatment went from psychoanalysis to electric shock treatment. By the 1950s, the treatments had become more humane. However, now people would not admit to any traumatic symptoms due to the stigma. So, group therapy and psychotropic medications were introduced (blackbearrehab.com, 2025).
In the 1970s Vietnam veterans began experiencing a lot of psychological problems that persisted even after returning home. And survivors of domestic abuse were also included. In the 1980s, PTSD was officially recognized as a mental health problem. Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders adopted the diagnosis where it has remained (blackbearrehab.com, 2025).
PTSD is a developed from a traumatic event. C- PTSD when a traumatic event continues for months and years or multiple events occur. The intrusive thoughts, flashbacks, insomnia, avoidance, memory problems, detachment from friends and family, feeling emotionally numb, hyper startle, irritability, trouble concentrating, impulsive behavior, paranoia, severe anxiety, nightmares, suicidal ideations and actions and uncontrollable thoughts about the event. And over time, these symptoms completely devour who you once were (MayoClinic.org, 2025).
I know that PTSD is typically related to soldiers. I am here to tell you that I never went into the military. But the PTSD that I deal with, as a result of domestic violence, grabbed hold of me and has never let go. It has completely stripped me of everything that I used to enjoy. I don’t care about relationships. I question people about their intentions, even if they’re pure and good. I’m constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop. I don’t have typical reactions to being scared. I could see a moth out, of the corner of my peripheral vision, and then jump and scream like Jeffery Dahmer was staring at me and about to take the first bite. I face the stigmas of both friends and family mainly due to a lack of understanding. However, the reasearch information is everywhere. Sometimes others just need to their own leg work. I have come to realize that instead of trying to find out how PTSD affects someone that you love, it’s “the easy way out” to just to be dismissive, embarrassed and judgmental instead. The attitude is “just change X behavior.” Without having a solution, the resounding message of “just make it go away” further ostracizes the person that you say you care about. And so the anticipated glimmer of hope dissipates further isolating the individual. And sadly, can lead to suicide.
PTSD is not about you, it’s about them. It’s just a diagnosis until it’s “you” that experiences it every day. It has taken me down to the point of putting a gun in my mouth. And because living in the abuse was so severe, I actually pulled the trigger after pointing the gun at my torso. It missed my heart by only a few centimeters. Nothing was messed up to the point of needing surgery. But self-harm is something that I’ve dealt with since I was a 13-year-old child. And I had no idea how to deal with all the overwhelming emotions of abuse. In that cold, dark closet where I began to self-harm, and as maladaptive as the behavior is, it worked. It was the only thing that worked to bring me back to complete balance. But the problem is that it became a true addiction issue that I continue to struggle with. And before you ask, yes I’ve done a lot of therapy. It’s not that the therapy doesn’t. It’s that the addiction is that strong.
PTSD is a true injury on the brain. The brain’s job is to help you survive in any way possible. So, we reach for anything to help calm the barrage of intrusive thoughts, memories, smells and sounds. And once it’s been damaged through a traumatic event, it creates a “work around” solution. What typically works? Self-harm and substance abuse creates almost instant comfort. You don’t have to wait for 6-8 weeks to reach your therapeutic dose efficacy to begin working. It’s an immediate fix that some of have to use just to stay alive.
Cannabis was recommended when all other “Big Pharma” medications failed. And it has saved my life on a daily basis ever since. Cannabis seems to put a cloud over my brain saying, “Settle just for a moment.” And for that moment, I can take a break from the constant paranoia and overstimulation of a brain that wanted to do nothing more than survive. And that, is my battlefield. It wasn’t in Iraq, Afghanistan or Vietnam. My battlefield is everywhere I go. I fear people and social situations in a way that most cannot understand.
It literally takes me about a week in advance to start prepping to leave my house just to go to pick up medications,that I,unfortunately have to take. But I don’t take anymore psych meds. I was extremely sick, coming off all the meds that I had been begging for over two years to be tapered off. And I got tired of waiting, so I did it myself. I don’t advise this way because it was a really miserable process. However, I was at a point of desperation. And now about 6 months later, I feel like a new human being after the toxic feeling of all the medications. All of my true feelings and emotions have awakened, and I really like feeling somewhat comfortable at times.
My personal opinion is that anyone returning home from the active duty should be handed an ounce of weed the minute they step off the plane to do with as they wish. And it would be perfectly ok if they gave it away. That’s like paying it forward in “Weed-O-Nomics.” As it stands, soldiers come home from a war that never ends. And they are committing suicide at a rate of 22 soldiers a day. And that is less than unacceptable.
As the topic of cannabis continues to circulate among social circles and national politics, I hope that veterans from our military will step out against the shame that is felt from social stigmas. And reach for the plant that can “help take the gun out of your mouth.” Cannabis doesn’t cure PTSD because it wasn’t the one who caused it. But it does make things much more tolerable.
Thanks for reading! Happy Pride everyone!
Affirmation: I am resilient and capable of healing.
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! As today begins the month of Gay Pride, it would almost be considered disrespectful if I didn’t mention that it’s also the first day of Hurricane Season. Having been through one of the most destructive hurricanes to hit the United States, Hurricane Katrina is one that I could talk about through the end of the season and beyond.
While those beautiful colored flags are the most gorgeous rainbows, hurricane season is something that can take my natural giddy self and change it instantly to serious. If you have lived through violent thunderstorms and tornadoes of the spring, then you know just what I’m talking about. And this year has led me to question whether “tornado alley” borders are being redefined. So far this year mother nature has already begun to stretch her meteorological legs and doing the jet stream dance.
Tornadoes, in an of themselves, are extremely scary no matter what part of the country nor how large the debris field. They show up sometimes with little warning to quickly demolish anything in its path. And there have been many times within the last few years where I decided to stay in my little habitat for the sake of my cats Tink and Coco. And when they decide to take cover because they hear rain drop, I’m usually left to fend for myself.
Hurricanes are quite literally “The Wrath of God.” Well, at least it was during Hurricane Katrina. Things you learn to do when these types of weather patterns that we see in the deep south, is to always be prepared. That means batteries, bottled water, canned goods, propane, charcoal, candles, and hopefully working chargers. Our local news station never forgets to tell us about the importance of helmets and coloring books for the kids. And before you ask, yes, I do have fun in the live chat while watching the coverage.
The Weather Channel seems to be a staple for living in the southern United States. I know one thing without a doubt, if Jim Cantore shows up in your area, RUN!
Five months out of the year are dedicated to constantly checking hurricanes and projected paths. The memories of the chaos of Hurricane Katrina made me experience a fear that can’t be explained in words and sentences. It’s a fear that you come to understand when you experience it. As the stories told by my grandmother and parents about Hurricane Camille, I was very intrigued. And there was the time when I said, “I want to be able to experience a major hurricane.” I’ve always been interested in the science of weather. But the adage, “Careful what you wish for” couldn’t have made anymore sense once it was all said and done.
The weather is just the beginning. What those on the outside need to understand is that it’s after the storm that is so traumatic. I know that New Orleans got the major news coverage during the hurricane. However, here in Mississippi was horrible in different ways. If you’ve never been unable to meet basic needs for living, without power, without air conditioning, gas pipes busted, sewage manholes overflowing, no running toilets, no cell phones, no access to ice, no access to money, food starts rotting, the massive mosquitoes, and above all, the heat. And we live 60 miles north of the coastline. Casino barges, pieces of interstates, highways, entire streets, mausoleum opened bodies and caskets strewn, slabs where houses once stood and the majority of the landscape resembling something created by “Little Boy” and “Fat Man.” You cannot begin to realize how deadly mother nature can be.
As we face another year of these types of storms, start preparing now. Because when you wait until it’s more convenient, retailers will be sold out. And though it’s been 20 years since Katrina, when I woke up this morning a cold chill went straight down my spine as I remember how very scary and destructive she was. Let us all never forget how dangerous weather can be. And let us never forget the names that have been retired because of the deadly, long lasting physical, structural and psychological effects that they have left on this nation. I remember them by name Katrina, Andrew, Sandy, Rita, Harvey, Irma, Maria, Michael, Ivan, Beryl, Helene, Milton, Betsy, Camille, Frederick, Galveston Hurricane 1900, The Atlantic-Gulf Hurricane 1919, Great Miami Hurricane 1926, San Felipe-Okeechobee Hurricane 1928, Labor Day Hurricane 1935, New England Hurricane 1938, The Great Atlantic Hurricane 1944 and many others. Thanks for reading! Stay safe! Keep Smiling! And HAPPY PRIDE!
Affirmation: I have faced fiercer storms and survived them all.
“Do not allow people to dim your shine because they are blinged. Tell them to put on some sunglasses, because we were born this way.”
-Lady Gaga
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! You know what today is? I’ll give you a hint. It’s my favorite time of the year. IT”S GAY PRIDE MONTH! Everyone fly those flags and love who you love. I think those who are new to the pride family and are newly allied deserve to know just why we love pride month so much.
On June 28, 1969 (no pun intended), the NYPD raided the Stonewall Inn. Raids at gay bars where the patrons and employees inside were interrogated while a crowd gathered outside. The sum of everyone fought back, and police barricaded themselves in the Stonewall Inn. The mob’s resistance went on all night, and continued for days in protests across New York City.
A year later in June 1970 activists marched throughout the streets to commemorate the riots. It was called the Christopher Street Liberation Day where sparsely attended and encountered protests because of the outlandish costumes that some marchers wore.and is known as the first Pride Parade. Other pride celebrations were in cities like Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Chicago (bryanuniversity.edu, 2024). Pride is used to describe the community’s solidarity, identity and resistance to discrimination (britannica.com, 2025).
In 1978, the symbol representing Gay Pride first made its debut in San Francisco. It was the rainbow flag. The original flag consisted of eight colors (hot pink-sexuality, red-life, orange-healing, the sun-yellow, green-nature, blue-art, indigo-harmony and violet for spirit). The colors were tweaked a bit because of the unavailability of fabric colors. The demonstrations focused on participants’ being proud to be out of the closet regarding individual freedom and diversity of the LGBTQ community.
In the 1980’s, after the spreading of AIDS, pride events focused on the social issues of the time. The LBGTQ community increased among the straight community, politician sympathies and gay-friendly businesses and corporations began participating in the marches. The popularity began spreading across the globe. Large cities such as Amsterdam, Chicago, London, Mexico City, New York, Paris, San Francisco and Sao Paulo attract several hundred thousand to more than a million annually. Stiff resistance in Jerusalem, Moscow and Warsaw but pride has still continued.
The groups of people who identified as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender or queer who felt empathy and solidarity based on shared experiences of prejudice, discrimination and disrespect or awareness of oppression were all included in the acronym LGBTQ. The acronym has again changed to include those who are “questioning,” “intersex,” and “agender” to LGBTQIA or LGBTQ+ (britannica.com, 2025).
In 1999, President Bill Clinton officially declared June as Gay and Lesbian Pride month. In 2009, President Barack Obama named it Lesbian, Gay, bisexual, and Trangender Pride Month. In 2016, President Obama designed the Stonewall Inn and the surrounding area as a national museum. And it was the first national monument that honored LGBTQ+ rights (bryanuniversity.edu, 2024). However, there is still the ongoing fight for equality and inclusion.
As of 2015, the Supreme Court ruled in Obergefell v. Hodges that same-sex couples have the right to marry in all 50 states. The ruling also declared that same-sex couples have the same rights under the law as opposite-sex couples. This includes Social Security, health insurance and retirement savings. Most Americans agree that legalizing same-sex marriage is good for society.
In 2017, our country and communities witnessed the protections for LGBTQ people across the entire federal government. While President Biden reversed many of those attacks, Trump promised to go back even further on LGBTQ rights if re-elected. And sadly that has happened. Project 2025, has removed anti-discrimination policies. And on day one of his current presidency he began to eliminate protections for transgender students. This began to strip LGBTQ individuals of protections against discrimination in many areas including employment, housing, education, healthcare, and other federal programs. And to date has kicked many transgender military personnel of their livelihood (aclu.org, 2025).
Ask yourself, “how does gender identity determine when, where and how your “battle buddy” pulls a trigger? Aren’t our troops, regardless of how they identify, fighting for the freedoms of the same nation? Trangender soldiers are of no significant threat to anyone else in the military. Because when it comes down to protecting my six, it doesn’t matter how someone identifies in gender or sexuality, if the trigger gets pulled and I live to fight for freedom another day.
Our fight for equality will continue just like it began. We will be loud and proud no matter what our government or religion does to try and destroy our pride. We will be there with our colors on challenging everyone that there be justice for all. The LGBTQ communities will continue to demand that we be included in the preamble of the constitution which reads, “WE THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.” Stonewall will never die! Thanks for reading! Happy Pride Everyone!
“If I wait for someone else to validate my existence, it will mean that I’m short changing myself.”
“Getting information from the Internet is like taking a drink from a fire hydrant.”
-Mitchell Kapor
Thanks for coming back to read the final blog about the Most Dangerous Internet Challenges. I have saved the most dangerous of all the challenges I’ve talked about until now. That does not mean that I’m being insensitive to the destruction that the previous ones have caused. However, for varied reasons these last four challenges go down as my top for being some of the most dangerous. Let’s continue…
Skull Breaker Challenge
This is a dangerous challenge that first made its mark on Tik Tok in 2020. I’m not saying that the behavior itself has never been conducted before. Because I’m fairly sure that when I was a teen, we did something similar. The participants work as a group of three. One person stands in the middle, while the other two stand on either side. They tell the middle person to jump up and then very swiftly use a sweeping kick so that the middle person falls to the ground and hits their head. Injuries that have been associated with this challenge include concussion, neck, head and spinal injuries. Skull fractures and paralysis are also known to be associated with this challenge. Tik Tok very quickly took down any videos related to the challenge.
Benadryl Challenge
This is a challenge where it involves taking massive amounts of Benadryl in order to get high and hallucinate. Ok, stop for a second. We didn’t even have internet challenges much less this one. Hell, I did this just to escape my own horrible reality. But you can only take so much before the “high” isn’t a really pleasant experience. However, when you don’t have access to money, as a young teen, you go to the next best place, the parents’ medicine cabinet.
I’m not trying to glorify this. What I am saying is that there are many varied reasons why someone would do something like this. While this can be deadly, I never considered those dangers as a teen. The overconsumption of this medication can lead to confusion, delirium, psychosis, organ damage, hyperthermia, convulsions coma and death. And sadly, there have been children and teens who did not live to see the next internet challenge.
Blackout Challenge
Ok. This one right here has been known to be my poison. The Blackout Challenge also called the “Choking Game” are another one of those things that have thrill seekers mouths watering with anticipation. I had no idea that this had a formal name for behavior until I started seeing this in news reports. The challenge formally began to gain widespread attention on Tik Tok in 2021. It’s a challenge that deprives the brain of oxygen and blocks blood from entering the brain.
Oxygen deprivation of the brain has the potential to cause moderate to severe brain cell death. And because fatalities are often ruled as suicides, it makes the statistics unreliable. I think we all can agree that this can be dangerous. One of the reasons that it’s so popular is because it costs zero dollars to try. As dangerous as it can be, I don’t see this behavior being eradicated.
My personal beginning with this behavior was born out of a very traumatic situation. And I can tell you that the longer kids get their needs met in this way, the more difficult it is to stop. And just like any type of self-harm that serves a purpose for the individual, the results can be deadly.
I completely understand that not every child looks for some type of emotional need to be met with these behaviors. Either way no one can deny the facts about the statistics showing that it can be deadly. I can admit that this isn’t “brain food” and is still considered very stupid to most people. The main thing is for parents to be aware of the signs that are related to this behavior which include discussion of the game, bloodshot eyes, marks on the neck, severe headaches, disorientation after spending time alone, ropes, scarves and belts tied to bedroom furniture or doorknobs or knotted on the floor and unexplained presence of things like dog leashes, choke collars and bungee cords.
Blue Whale Challenge
The Blue Whale Challenge is one that I consider to be very insidious. If you’ve read my recent blog about the online predatory group 764, this is one that’s eerily reminiscent. It was an online social phenomenon in 2016 that began in Russia and claimed to exist in many countries. The game consists of a series of tasks to players over a 50-day period.
In its start, the creator who was a former Russian psychology student, got expelled from the university. He said that he originally created the game in 2013 in order to “clean society of biological wastes.” The tasks begin with things like “get up at 4:30 am” or “watch a horror movie” before moving into self-harm. And the end of the game involves committing suicide. The administrators were found to be children aged between 12 and 14 years of age.
In June 2018, Russian financial analyst, Nikita Nearonov was arrested for masterminding the game. Nearonov is suspected of grooming ten underage girls in order for them to commit suicide. The game has been reported to be banned in countries including Egypt, Kenya and Pakistan. However, experts agree that it’s almost impossible to ban the game.
I hope this series has been informative on some of the dangerous internet challenges. For all the ones that have diminished, there are new challenges in ten-fold waiting to take their place. Remembering how naïve I was as a teen helps me to realize that had the internet been as big then as it is now, I would’ve surely gotten hurt at the very least. I was incredibly impulsive and searching for something to distract me from life as it was. Thanks for reading!
“This is how betrayal starts…not with big lies, but with small secrets.”
-Shalini Joshi
Now let’s continue…
Lisa did update us on Kathleen’s self-harm issue that had begun to dissipate. And now she was also in therapy. I always asked about how the therapy was going because I hadn’t left my abusive therapist yet. So, I became very protective when it came to that topic. She would always put my fears to rest by telling me that she had a great therapist that really knew how to work with Kathleen.
Landri would also have a big scare with her heart that left her almost completely bed bound. She had become so weak that she could no longer support her own weight. But eventually she would regain her strength. Slowly but surely, she wasn’t so pale. She was beginning to put on weight, and it looked really good on her. And then she started getting out and walking. They had moved onto the same military base as us. They lived only about 6-7 houses down the street.
We had not been around them in a little while due to our own issues with my mental health. And I had already begun living life in solitude where I would remain for the next few years. One day I had gone out to check the mail when I saw someone walking towards me on the sidewalk. I soon realized that it was Landri. I spoke to her and told her how good she looked and how happy I was for her. We made a very superficial conversation because I was in a very deep depression at the time. The following is the last conversation that she and I would have together. And it continues to haunt me to this day.
Landri: “Dana, I’m scared of Lisa.”
Me: “What do you mean you’re scared?”
Landri: “I don’t really want to go into our personal problems, but she’s become very aggressive.”
Me: “Wait! Do I need to throw some aggression her way?”
Landri: “No, that would just make it worse. Just remember what I’m telling you.”
Me: “Ok. Promise me that if you need us you will call.”
Landri: “No, it’s nothing like that. She’s just spent all of our money on drugs. And she doesn’t like me questioning her about any of it.”
Me: “Ok. Well, we are here to help if you need us.”
Landri: “Thank you so much for being such good friends.”
She had convinced me enough to pacify my obsessive nature when someone is being dominated. I also understood how telling someone about a perpetrator can make the situation worse. And coming from a domestic violence situation I felt that fear for her. Later that day when Mel got home from work, I told her about the situation. She was likewise just as perplexed as I was. I told her everything from beginning to end about our encounter. She agreed with me to stay out of the situation. And to just be available if necessary.
A week later, Landri was dead. She apparently died in her sleep. But now that conversation that was stuck on replay was never-ending. I didn’t know what to do as the news completely stunned me. I told her to find out funeral arrangements. I couldn’t let the thought go that, “Lisa just murdered one of our closest friends.” I would battle in my mind thinking, “That’s absurd to think that we would be as close to a situation that was that dangerous and not know something was wrong.” And it has always been rebuttaled with the very conversation that we had asking me not to get involved.
Mel came in from work a few days later and said, “You’re not going to believe what I’m about to tell you.” I said, “Ok well that’s not a good sign.” She very begrudgingly said, “Lisa has already had her cremated.” I scream, “WTF?!” And I began shaking. It was then that I realized that there was a high likelihood that Landri was murdered. It was difficult for me to look Lisa in the face the next time we saw her. Mel asked, “Lisa, what happened?” She begins telling us the story that she had become very weak, very quickly. And how they were laying in their bed together and they both took a nap. But when Lisa woke up, Landri was dead. I told her, “I just saw Landri several days ago and she looked the best I’ve ever seen her.” Lisa said, “Yea the doctors said that sudden death was a possibility.” I didn’t tell her what Landri herself told me. And without warning Lisa and Kathleen moved away and weren’t answering us in any way.
We had gone to the local library where we were known frequently. Mel tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Look who’s here.” I turned around and I must’ve turned white. We saw Lisa and Kathleen before they saw us. Kathleen wasn’t in a wheelchair. But when we made eye contact, we saw Lisa mumble something to Kathleen. She was just super excited to see us. And then her demeanor turned very solemn.
That situation was many years back now. Mel and the boys moved back to Mississippi. And I moved to Texas to work with “coach” on my PTSD issues. While living out there Mel called me one day and said, “You’ll never guess who I talked to.” Agreeing with her I said, “Probably not. What’s up?” Me said, “I just got off the phone with Kathleen.” I said, “Shut up! What’s going on with her?” Mel told me, “Well, she said that Lisa had made everything up about her military and EMT service. And that neither Kathleen nor Landri had a terminal condition. She was starving them. That’s why Kathleen passed out so much and broke bones. Lisa is now homeless. And Kathleen has moved on with her life complete with therapy.” It took me a few minutes to respond because those horrible gut feelings began flooding every part of me. Several years had gone by since that horrible situation but it still stung with great ferocity. I told Mel, “You know it’s bothered me ever since about that we seemed to know the truth. If it doesn’t seem right, it probably isn’t right.” She said, “Yea, but what proof did we have at the point when we thought that? We couldn’t just go into the police station and talk to a detective only to say, “Well we don’t have evidence, but I do have a gut feeling. They couldn’t exhume the body because it was cremated.” And the words that my ex-husband repeatedly said to me, “Nobody will believe you. You’re the one with the mental problems” kept me silent once again.
Nothing has ever been proven or investigated related to that situation. One of the many things that has continued to plague my mind is the fact that we left our oldest baby in their care so that we could actually go on a much-needed date. They baby sat Marshall many, many times. If something had happened to him, I would’ve killed her without a second thought. Some of my “mommy guilt” about being a parent holds space for the event that taught me that evil is still alive and well in this world. I don’t wish her death. But I do wish her a miserable existence until the end of time. She didn’t care about our child or our family. But what was the saddest was that she didn’t care about her own family.
At the same time, I was dealing with another “friend” who was also very manipulative. And I was also being abused by my therapist. After all of this, I lost my damn mind. The first thing I remember writing about this was the poem titled Silent Screams. The only way that I get through another day with the constant barrage of memories about this situation is to give myself grace in the fact that everything was so hidden in a tangled web of lies. She was a manipulator that was even more skilled than my ex-husband. I think that my anger around this is about the fear that I experienced after realizing how much time Marshall had spent in their care. There is a certain amount of grief that comes from losing those relationships. We lost what we thought “was” instead of what it “wasn’t.
Munchausen by Proxy is actually pretty rare. Unless,of course, it’s happening to you. I recently got interested in the case of Gypsy Rose. She was also at the mercy of her mother who had Munchausen by Proxy. Except that Gypsy Rose murdered her mom and subsequently went to prison. She served her time and is now out of prison. She has talked about all of the unnecessary treatments and procedures that she had to go through for absolutely no reason. And so did Kathleen.
I don’t advocate murder. However, through the many years of trauma at the hands of some truly evil people, I can’t totally understand the rationale. Lisa was still allowed to live her life. She has nothing but one tooth and her lies that are continuing to be spread onto other unsuspecting victims. The thoughts and feelings that have stayed with me since that day are forever in my mind.” Again, it’s just another traumatic event that has taught me to question everyone’s motives including friends and especially family. I’ve never thought that I should require proof of terminal illness or military service. But maybe I should.
“But the memories that hang heaviest are the easiest to recall. They hold in their creases the ability to change one’s life, organically, forever. Even when you shake them out, they’ve left permanent wrinkles in the fabric of your soul.”
-Julie Gregory
Affirmation: “I am strong and can overcome the influence of manipulative individuals.”
“Munchausen by Proxy may be the single most complex and lethal form of maltreatment known today.”
-Julie Gregory, Sickened: The True Story of a Lost Childhood
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about a serious mental health disorder known as Munchausen Syndrome. I know that this is a topic that a lot of people like to sweep under the rug because it just seems too grotesque and unimaginable to talk about. However, the fact is that the disorder remains alive and well in some individuals. And the signs and symptoms are hidden in plain sight.
Munchausen and Munchausen by Proxy fit under the diagnostic criteria for Factitious Disorder. A Factitious disorder is a conscious and intentional feigning or production of symptoms due to a psychological need to take on the sick role in order to obtain an emotional gain. This is not to be mistaken with Hypochondriasis. Which is an obsession with fears that one has a serious, undiagnosed disease. The symptoms are not created consciously (nih.gov, 2006).
Munchausen Syndrome is still considered to be the most extreme form of factitious disorder. They intentionally deceive others by pretending to be sick. They fake symptoms or make symptoms seem worse than they actually are. And speaking to them you would think that they are an endless pit of medical knowledge. What they do is produce some medical or psychological problems and study everything they can find on it until they’re comfortably able to construct an ongoing story.
Munchausen by Proxy is where the behavior is imposed onto another person. The biggest factor in keeping their narratives alive is manipulation. And they are exceptionally good at it. My exposure to Munchausen by Proxy has left me with a lot of shame, guilt, regret and suicidal ideations. I have tried to extend myself “grace” about this situation knowing that had I understood the harsh reality sooner, I could’ve done something about it.
When we moved to Albuquerque, NM we found us a lesbian group that became our home for a short while. Mel and I had dreams and aspirations of being parents one day which eventually distanced us from them. But not before we met Lisa, Landri and Kathleen. “Two moms and a child? We’ve totally got to meet them!” I told Mel. It didn’t take us long to realize that we had more in common with this family than realized. Lisa, who was clearly a “top” and the strong family leader, told us that they were from Laurel, MS. Very surprise I said, “Wait What?! You mean to tell us that we just met people from Laurel, MS that are a lesbian family?” She confirmed again. I thought, “Holy Crap, this is what we’ve been needing. Someone from the south that understands our frustrations.” Our relationship was soon off to the races.
Their daughter was a truly compassionate being who appeared reserved but loved our son, Marshall. And Marshall loved them all. And Kathleen definitely danced to the beat of her own drum. The connection was so close that it appeared that this was a friendship that would last a lifetime. Lisa told us that she was a retired military colonel. She was always dressed in some type of military get-up. And she had also been an EMT and worked on an ambulance. I was happy that I now had someone to exchange “trauma junkie” stories with. She seemed to deal with it better than I was doing and was interested in how she did it. Her partner, Landri, was very frail looking but spicy in her own sense. She quit working due to her chronic health issues regarding cardiac problems. They told us that their daughter, Kathleen, had been diagnosed as a child with a terminal heart condition. And that she likely would not make it to adulthood. They warned that there were very frequent hospital visits sometimes close to being fatal. But we loved all of them and they loved us.
We were prepared to love and accept them right where they presented themselves. We never knew that we needed to have someone prove their medical conditions or a traumatic past. We were on the “therapy” side of life which fit comfortably with our level of empathy. And for the first time while living in Albuquerque there were people who understood what it was like to grow up and come out in the south.
Since we lived on a guarded military base, when she would come through the gate dressed in some type of military attire she accepted the salutes as a proud retired colonel. We planned to celebrate the next Thanksgiving together in grand southern style. Mel and I spent several hours in the kitchen cooking our favorite southern dishes. The finished product was a full spread that would make our ancestors smile. But right before they came over Lisa called to ask us if we could make Kathleen some macaroni and cheese because she didn’t eat regular Thanksgiving foods. We both thought that was strange. But we didn’t question anything due to possible nutritional needs.
When they arrived, Kathleen came running into our house. She grabbed the freezer door and swung it open while asking, “What have you got to eat?” I looked at Mel like, “Are you watching this?” Shocked and completely bewildered I very clearly remember thinking, “For someone who was raised in the south, that behavior was considered very disrespectful.” We gave the cooked macaroni to her after she also went to the pantry looking for something to eat. Her behavior was startling. She grabbed the macaroni and went and ate like she hadn’t eaten before. Mel and I spoke about it later and we felt half angry and half in utter disbelief. But I also noticed that Lisa was trying to ignore the “elephant in the room.” Almost as though the behavior was unexpected. That evening went on without any other noticeable issues.
Being a preemie, Mashall had different nutritional needs than a normal baby. He drank pediasure to supplement his much-needed calories. Lisa stated that Landi was supposed to be on supplemental drinks like that for adults, but they couldn’t afford it. We gave them a few drinks which they greatly appreciated. But soon they wanted the majority of what we were receiving for Marshall through the CHIPS program. So, we had to put a stop to that. Again, the whole situation wasn’t sitting right with us. However, there were no alarm bells just a “that’s odd” moment.
Kathleen was admitted many times to the hospital for injuries that were sustained by passing out. She would literally break bones when she fell. Lisa always explained that it was due to her congenital heart problem. And honestly, we have been close friends for a while now while these medical issues continued. We were also told that they were in a support group for kids and families with the same diagnosis. And they would tell us when Kathleen’s friends from the group passed away.
She was given all kinds of recognition and special treatment because different organizations were aware that she would not be living the fullest life that everyone else would. We were even invited to go to the state fair free as guests of Kathleen’s. We also attended a rodeo there complete with a special meet and greet with members of a band that was to be singing that night. She always traveled by wheelchair or golf cart because of how weak she could become.
Lisa came to us one day to tell us that Kathleen was self-harming. And they knew that we had some basic knowledge about what causes the behavior. I asked Lisa,” Is she being abused by anyone that you know of?” Lisa of course answered, “No.” But she did tell us that she had suffered a breakup and that because she was getting older, she also began to fear dying. And she would also tell us that prior to moving to New Mexico that Kathleen’s biological father passed away from terminal cancer. We agreed that due to the extreme situation that was occurring in their family that this behavior was possible. We advised her to seek out a therapist before it got out of control and caused severe scarring or possibly escalating to suicide. No matter what we tried to do to help our friends, we always felt helpless.
Landri still seemed to become progressively worse. And soon we were told that Landri would also have heart failure. I remember Mel and I were thinking how horrible it was for a family to go through all of that at one time. And how helpless we felt, not being able to do anything. What we did know was how to be friends with someone and support them emotionally the best that we could.
They supposedly decided as a family to go to California to get married legally. At the time New Mexico was considered a neutral state regarding marriage equality. That meant that you could not legally have a same sex marriage performed in the state. However, they would honor marriages from other states. Lisa told us that, “Kathleen wanted that wish to come true.” I thought, “well maybe that’s what they all needed.” However, there was a very dark and sinister part of that family that would not become known for several more months. It began in the shadows so it won’t survive in the light. This story has one more part. Keep reading!
“Munchausen By Proxy is a desire to have attention and pity at the same time. So maybe all narcissists have Munchausen By Proxy.”
-Unknown
Affirmation: “I am resilient, and I can overcome challenges.”
“I was tired of pretending that I was someone else just to have a good relationship with people, for the sake of having friendships.”
-Kurt Cobain
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! I thought today, while staying in line about mental health awareness, it would be a clever idea to explore why we pretend that we are ok when we aren’t. And what are the reasons for doing this?
When someone asks, “How are you doing?” Most of the time they just expect the typical answer, “I’m fine.” Truthfully, though, most people do not don’t give a shit about how you are really doing. And when you tell them, you are met with an instant cellular retraction. You are seen as boundaryless or too overbearing. The truth, however, is that most people don’t know how to deal with anything that’s perceived as abnormal. My opinion is, “You asked how I was doing? So, guess what? I’m going to tell you exactly how I’m doing.” I do that sometimes just to see the reaction of others.
When I was doing my undergraduate studies, one of my beloved professors explained this very thing. And ever since, I’ve assessed those theories only to prove them right repeatedly. I am not saying this as a blanket statement. But the truth is the truth. People back away from what they don’t understand. That’s about them, not you.
It does not speak about you as a human being. We have been conditioned as human beings, as a species, to be accepted and wanted despite the personal cost. Social media is all about presenting something that the average person considers useful in some way. It does not mean that what you witness is how someone is truly feeling. The conditioning that is implied is that without millions of followers, gets labeled as unworthiness. So, we put on a happy face and try to stay in some form of societal compliance as “normal” which doesn’t have a definitive definition. But do you know what the term “normal” actually is? It’s a setting on a washing machine. The term “normal” is actually a subjective term that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It’s nothing more than someone’s interpretation and social constructs of mainstream behavior.
When we tell people we are ok when we really aren’t, is a “hail Mary” attempt at acceptance. But when we do that, we deny our true feelings and experiences. A big turn off when dealing with people is how they tell me how I should or shouldn’t feel about a situation. What this does is minimize the person’s feelings. It’s not up to you to tell them that their feelings are “ridiculous.” However, the damage has been done. You just sent an unspoken message to the individual who asked the question, that they are not worthy of your time. And it’s incredibly hurtful. And since they aren’t a therapist trained on how to respond appropriately and therapeutically, the damage that is potentially caused can be catastrophic. So, instead of a positive act of vulnerability, the vulnerability is now covered in shame. We can develop a fear of vulnerability based on that one experience. And we also tend to prematurely judge every person and conversation thereafter in the same light.
I can’t tell you how many times I have been told that my fears and phobias are preposterous. But the situation that caused the fear was in fact very real. And its people, who have never gone through the same precipitating factors nor situation, who seem to have all the “correct” answers. I have been told some of those very things when it took everything I had to just be vulnerable enough to tell someone what happened. It has created so many therapeutic “pitfalls” because of the fear and shame that I was left with from the very beginning of my trauma history. So many times, I could’ve gotten help sooner, but I suffered in silence because of how unworthy I felt trying to tell the wrong person that I needed help. And sadly, there are many people who die by their own hand. Shame was the killer.
Sometimes all you need to do is just hold a “non-judgmental” space for someone to talk. You don’t have to, nor do you need to have the answers. You are NOT a therapist. You are a “sounding board” at best. However, “non-judgmental” space is usually not common unless you’re sharing space with a competent therapist who understands the powerful and most sought-after form of safety that deserves the utmost respect.
The most supportive thing you can say to someone who approaches you needing that “sacred space,” is, “I might not know how to help you, but your feelings are valid and I will listen supportively until we can find a mental health professional to help you.” That simple statement can change the course of someone’s life. You don’t have to be smart. You just have to be a HUMAN. Thanks for reading! Keep smiling!
Affirmation: I am a work in progress, and that is okay.
“They want to make you suffer. And for you to take your own life. They really are very sadistic people.”
-Anna A., Victim Of 764
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I want to talk about online predator groups. I know that the videos that I’ve chosen have some length to them. However, I strongly encourage you to watch these videos. They are graphic in nature. So, please view them at your own discretion.
Some of these predators use platforms where they begin grooming children in areas that is plentiful with kids, online gaming platforms. One thing to remember is that predatory grooming takes on an infinite number of forms and ideas. And these groups that are preying on our kids are on a continuum. These groups seek to control, hurt, manipulate and kill our children. And the predatory group called 764 is one of the most sinister groups.
764 is an online decentralized and transnational sextortion network that is adjacent to the Order of Nine Angels (O9A), a right-wing Satanist terror network. And after gathering information on this group, they are definitely doing the devil’s work. 764’s online networks coerce children into recording themselves engaging in self-harm, sexually explicit acts and violence. This group consists of violent extremists who seek to normalize the production, sharing and possession of child pornography and gore material to desensitize and corrupt youth toward future acts of violence. The group members gain notoriety by systematically targeting, grooming, and extorting victims. They demand that victims engage in and share media of self-mutilation, sexual acts, harm to animals, acts of random violence, suicide and murder. It’s a way of causing chaos by disrupting society.
764 began with Bradley Cadenhead, a teenager from Stephenville, TX. His behavior began at age 8 while watching online porn. His fascination progressed to a fascination with violent torture pictures, videos and gore. He posted a lot on social media about violence. At age 13, he was put on juvenile probation for discussing shooting up a middle school. He briefly returned to a juvenile facility for violating his probation and he continued routinely watching ultra-violent gore content online. Court records have shown that he refused to participate in counseling sessions, repeatedly left home without permission, assaulted his mother, and ingested dangerous amounts of Tylenol and cough syrup which required hospitalization.
His online activities were also unrestricted. While playing Minecraft online he also met another user who deepened his interest in gore. And this is where he learned to groom children on a sextortion server called “CLT.” He then started a Discord server called 764 after the first three digits of his zip code. He along with dozens of others used the 764 Discord server and Telegram to seek out vulnerable children to victimize. Cadenhead moderated the server, which received countless videos and photographs of extreme violence, animal torture. He also posted “How-to” guides on sexually exploiting and extorting minors online to circulate in their channels. Discord reports that when they first identified hundreds of users, they reported it to law enforcement that year. And in 2021, Discord flagged Cadenhead’s online conduct fifty-eight times for sharing “images of prepubescent females and males engaging in sexual act, or in various nude poses.”
Captain Jeremy Lanier, of the Stephenville Police Department, helped to conduct the forensic analysis on Cadenhead’s devices. He is quoted saying, “This wasn’t run-of-the-mill child porn, this was darker. There was one video of a woman being held down and stabbed. This case was awful. It was the worst stuff I’ve ever looked at in six years of working CSAM.” Once a degree of trust was developed Cadenhead and other extorters threatened to harm families and to release the explicit photographs that had been exchanged. They have also convinced children to strangle their pets and bite the heads off pet hamsters on camera. This particular child was found in a bath one night saying that she was to “turn the water red” as requested. The group members also called her school principal and reported that she tried to murder animals which led to a police investigation by local police.
Richard Densmore also known as “Rabid” became popular in 764 by creating “Sewer” communities on Discord where children were recruited by infiltrating online gaming sites. A quote from Densmore would tell victims to cut themselves by saying, “I have all your information. I own you…You do what I say now kitten.” And he would even convince victims to carve “Rabid,” Sewer,“ and “764” onto their bodies with razors and box cutters. He also would sexually exploit the children (justice.gov, 2025).
“These online groups are some of the most egregious online enticement reports that we’re seeing in terms of what they’re seeing that children are being coerced to do.”
-Fallon McNulty, CyberTipline Director
Since 2021 criminal cases were brought again more than a dozen people linked to these types of groups in the United States, Great Britian, Germany, Romania and Brazil. And the US Department of Justice is pursuing federal grand jury proceedings. The group is connected to Eastern European skinhead group who members were also accused of random acts and killings in Ukraine and Russia. Prosecutors have cited Telegram and Discord as the primary means where 764 members operate. They use the platforms “to desensitize vulnerable populations through sharing extreme gore and child sexual abuse material.” However, dozens of Telegram channels remained active. Discord says that they have been shutting down these types of activities on their platform. Discord also said that they now work closely with the FBI and law enforcement agencies. In 2023 Discord blocked 130 groups and 34, 000 accounts linked to 764.
Instagram accounts linked to the extortion networks were still active at the time of this particular article. Despite the parent group Meta implementing bans on 764 related accounts. SoundCloud hosted self-harm and Satanism related playlists which were also allowed to remain online at the time of this information. Even though they release a statement saying, “We strictly prohibit any content that includes or suggests child sexual abuse or grooming on our platform and uses a combination of human moderation and technological tools to identify and remove infringing content.” Roblox, user-created skins for 764 themed characters with the groups sign with open references were also still available. Minecraft, where 764 members are known to be active, reports that there are several systems for removing harmful content including chat filtering, in-game reporting and parental controls. And has teams that participate in review and moderation. A spokesperson for Microsoft, which owns Minecraft’s development studio, states, “Pon private servers that are unmanaged by Minecraft, we will take action to investigate reported violations. However, 764 members have also managed to evade measures the platforms use to try and ban them.
“There’s a far larger pool of recruits and people interested in child abuse and pedophilia that an obscure Satanist sect,”
-Unknown law enforcement official
The FBI and other agencies are investigating 764 and terrorism because of their close ties with Order of Nine Angles, who long with their Satanist rhetoric are also aligned within militant neo-Nazi circles. They use Swastikas, Nazi memes and other propaganda glorifying homicidal members of white supremacist groups like the Atomwaffen Division which frequently appear in Telegram channels. And the urging of children to cut things into their bodies also resemble O9A rituals.
Bradly Cadenhead did admit to the group’s use of the server to do sextortion of individuals. They reported that sometimes they would do it for money. And sometimes they would do it just to have power over another person. And he also admitted that he had urged users in the server to carve his initial on their bodies as a form of homage. Therefore, many of the participants see him as a type of cult leader. Cadenhead pleaded guilty to all he was charged with and was sentenced to 80 years in prison. He is now 18 years old and currently incarcerated at Estelle State Prison in Huntsville, TX (wired.com, 2024).
I know you might be asking why I sometimes share horribly graphic information? And what I can tell you is this, “If you are grossed out and offended by this topic, good. You need to be. My life has been severely impacted by child predators on more than one occasion. And something that started out innocent progressed into a world full of horrors. We as parents seem to think that predatory people are easy to spot. They are the ones who act, dress and speak in a way that deviates from the societal norms. What I experienced was from people who I had already met. Some baby sat me as a child and were very seemingly genuine people. They were nice and built me up. They told me all the things I wanted to hear. And they gave me gifts so they could get close enough as a “friend” setting me up for their next moves. And then in a very carefully planned fashion, they got me to take the first step towards them and set their predatory trap. Then they very gently reeled me in hook, line and sinker. They were not strangers. They were in my church, schools, sports and anywhere else they can find their prey. Your kids might’ve found a new online friend who seems to be a very genuine person. They might pretend to have benign interests and just want to have a new online gaming friend. Remember that predators blend in not stand out. Standing out brings them unwanted attention and threaten to expose their evils. People, please understand that perpetrators operate in the shadows not the light. The light outshines darkness which makes it very uncomfortable for them to be unnoticed. So, they get their satisfaction from the thrill of the manipulative hunt seeking to kill and destroy your loved one.” And when one goes to prison, there are hundreds upon thousands of perpetrators looking to fill that spot.
I love my children and want them to enjoy their childhoods. However, I’m not ok with sacrificing their safety in order to appease someone’s sick curiosity. I’m not saying to not let your children play games online. What I am telling you is to form an even closer bond by challenging something in their behavior that is burning in your gut. And even if you don’t feel that, talk with them regularly about groups like this. Ask them if any of their “online” friends have reported such people. But above all, if something doesn’t seem right, check it out. Our children don’t even gasp the concept of evil predators like this. And I can tell you, that had this been an avenue that I could’ve gone down as a teen, I would’ve walked right into the woods with a clown for a handful of candy. My parents tried to shield us from most harmful things. But I still wasn’t safe from predators. I was taught to trust people until I couldn’t. And, unfortunately, when I understood that point it was too late. I was already in the grasp of a perpetrator. Thanks for reading!
“I’ve been praying for someone to get me out of there since day one. Where were you all this time? Where were you four months ago?!”
“Nothing is more creative…nor destructive…than a brilliant mind with a purpose.”
-Dan Brown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Wow. I had no idea that I would write about this topic today. And it’s a concept that has haunted me for many years. What is my purpose in life?
Is my purpose to see how many punches I can take and still walk out of the fire alive? Ok. I’ve done that and continued to do that on a daily basis. Is it to conform to societal standards of what “normal” is? That will never be me. Is it to tackle difficult subjects that make people cringe? You’re getting warmer. Well, let me see if I can discern the information that I know without a doubt.
1. I love helping people. Helping people is a burden on your soul. You don’t decide to help people because of a dollar sign. Helping people whether on an ambulance or in an addiction facility has always been my niche. My actions are done because of a calling that I was born to do. If anyone needs help and I can provide it, I will. That is one of the things that my family dynamics impressed upon me.
2. Helping and caring for animals. You also don’t just decide to have compassion for animals. Some people say these things and yet I watch them beat their animals without constraint. My ex-husband has always said that he was an animal lover. That is the farthest thing from the truth. I’ll never forget the screams of my animals when he would take a belt, in the middle of the night, and go beat them. And I was completely powerless to defend them. When I left that horribly abusive situation, my animals were killed. My animals and the other animals that I interact with are my kids. I learned a long time ago, that I could trust animals when I couldn’t humans.
3. Speaking up about difficult topics. I have no problem talking about really difficult topics in society. Sometimes it doesn’t make me the most popular person. And I don’t care. The topics of racism, mental illness, addiction, abuse, medical cannabis, suicide, self-harm, sexual abuse, puberty, predators, LGBTQ+ equality, rape, parenting or any other topic that makes us cringe. What you don’t see is how sometimes I struggle discussing them. Part of that is because of how I was raised. In the deep south, we are taught to not create any waves as it might reflect poorly on the family. And to know our places as children which was to always respect your elders without question. But what if you are a bystander to something that is abusive, and you don’t speak up? That’s what keeps me up at night. The personal information that I blog about that has happened or is currently happening in my life isn’t always pretty. And I realize that I’m not the savior who can swoop in and rescue people. I can, however, do my part as a human being. And, yes, I still worry about things that I cannot control and still become obsessions.
4. Writing is a passion. I began writing out of necessity. When I left my abusive therapist, I felt completely broken. The person I went to for help betrayed me in a way that continues to affect me. And unless you have been abused, you have no idea the hurdles that would have to be overcome to continue moving forward. And the complete disconnect between your emotions and your brain So, I began writing about topics that were affecting me in that moment. And suddenly, I began to get relief even if I hadn’t found the answers that I needed. I finally felt like I had a voice that deserved to be heard. I was tired of remaining quite as I had been expected to do my whole life. That’s when I realized that I wasn’t all those names that I had been called. I was someone who had information and experiences to share in order to help others. I have always felt alone no matter how many people I was around or despite the number of smiles that I put on my face. Blogging itself is a platform to help others in similar situations understand that they are not alone. Had someone just explained to me that my situations were not ok and that millions of people, worldwide, suffer in silence as I have, maybe that sense of loneliness would’ve diminished. However, when it’s happening to you especially all of the manipulation and brainwashing that occurs, you cannot see past the moment. Abuse leaves you questioning everything about the next person and even those in my family. I knew one thing for sure, I could not remain quiet.
5. Humor brings me enjoyment. Humor has always been one of my greatest coping skills. I go through life as a literal thinker. So, if someone has a “Freudian slip” I will laugh myself silly even if that slip up was from myself. Humor a lot of times was used against me to make me a public spectacle. And it was done in a very demeaning way. As a way of life, I learned how to beat someone to the punch on a smartass comment. I always try to see the humor in most situations. And when there is no humor, I will find a way to interject some of my own. This gets me in trouble sometimes because that’s not conforming to those around me. And I’m expected to just let crazy happenings go without acknowledgment. That’s like putting a plastic bag over my head and being expected to breathe when the air is gone. I will always point out the sometimes-ridiculous way a situation looks. And I’ll probably write a note about it in my phone to use at a later date. I’m not right or wrong. It’s just how I operate.
My passion and purpose is to help others understand that just because you have taken the broken road in life doesn’t mean that you still can’t achieve happiness and also help others. I write about a lot of maladaptive behaviors that I continue to struggle with. But I also share my experience, strength and hope with those need that need the validation that they are not inherently bad or unworthy of happiness, love and inclusion. I still struggle with that concept. If you are a human being, you will fail. You will fall. You will be forced to confront your demons head-on. And it will scare the literal shit out of you. You will be forced to look at your part in situations. If you do not, you will remain stuck. You except your responsibility and move on whether or not the others do the same. You are responsible for only your feelings and emotions that are constantly changing. If they don’t except their responsibility, then they will shift the blame back to you. Push that shit out of the way. Hold your head high. And leave those people like a boss. You are worthy. You are loved. And you are enough!
“Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone’s soul heal. Walk out of your house like a shepherd.”
“Other than dying, I think puberty is about as rough as it gets.”
-Rick Springfield
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today, I want to talk about that horrible stage in life called PUBERTY! I know, I know. I feel like I just got acid dumped on me for saying that name. These days I have found the evil older sister called menopause.
I personally don’t know how I got through puberty. I started understanding the confusion of being gay. The hormonal changes made me psycho. I began learning about relationships and how they change. I remember thinking that I took everything so personally. Horrible trauma was a constant. I became an addict in so many different ways. I was also incredibly impulsive. I don’t ever remember considering the consequences about anything. It was all about if “they” said no, DO IT! Little did I know, I would get permanently stuck in that developmental age. My body might’ve gotten older but I have not really aged emotionally. Trauma manages to stunt your emotional growth. And I was going through more than my fair share while my brain was still developing.
I was never taught boundaries growing up. I didn’t have any personal boundaries and perpetrators are boundaryless by nature. It was the perfect set up for things to go horribly wrong and they did. Our class went through so much trauma within about five years that we had to grow up incredibly fast. By the time I was a senior, I was emotionally searching for something that could provide me with some kind of hope. And that’s when my ex-husband made his predatory move. Many of us have become addicts in different ways. And sadly, many of my classmates have attempted suicide, completed suicide, died from drug overdoses or have gone to prison. It was so tumultuous, in fact, that I totally retract at the mention of the word.
As I have watched my oldest son, Marshall, go head first into that time period, I would be lying if I didn’t say how scared I am for him. The world is so much more violent. Bullying is much worse. Suicides and murders are out of control. School shootings are happening all over the country. Predators show even less restraint. Depending on where you live in the United States being free to express your sexuality can also be very traumatic. Pressure about having perfect grades and being accepted into top college programs has stolen the happiness of a child’s developmental process. And then there’s fentanyl that tops it all. I hate to sound like an old fart by saying that the world was just different then but it was.
I think now there’s more emphasis on developmental mental health which is always a positive. Cell Phones have been able to record evidence of some of these covert things especially with abusive teachers. And finally these kids have the proof that administrators can’t blow off. But the shame and rejection by families and society doesn’t make life any easier. Perpetrators whether they be peers or adults still operate in the same way. Threats and intimidation is what keeps kids silent and in constant fear. And you put all of that onto a teen and they just can’t handle it. I have overheard people talking about suicide and the person said, “Sometimes life is just too damn hard for these kids.” I know my kids well and I pay attention to everything that I can while co-parenting with their other mom and her partner. We all have a very open type of relationship. However, it scares the absolute shit out of me, because most people thought that I was perfectly fine. And I was the farthest thing from that.
You can follow all the latest research and suggested ways of raising a child but they can still carry with them their own darkness even in plain sight. I would hope that my boys would come to me for anything. But the truth is, that may or may not happen and the consequences can be devastating. And if that’s not resolved in a healthy way then they carry that emotional weight into adulthood. It will be interesting 20 years from now to see the problems that these kids have as adults. Because the struggles that kids are facing now will resurface in some way.
I have laughed many times at the funny sides of puberty by watching my kids. Especially when little brother,Copeland, and his frustrations with Marshall. Sometimes it’s just plain hilarious. At 10 years old, he asks his own questions about puberty. I try to be mature about some of it but it’s a futile effort. Sometimes I laugh so hard that I can hardly breathe. Copeland loves to call his brother out anytime he gets the chance. Not to mention the fact that bathing is an evil necessity and seems to be the main thing that gets in the way of their happiness at this moment. Here is an example of a conversation that I witnessed one day:
Me: “What’s that smell?”
Copeland: “Probably my brother.”
Marshall: “Why did you say that?”
Copeland: “Because it’s true! Momma Mel said that you stink and it’s a sign of puberty. Even if you don’t have hair on your balls yet.”
I made a quick stop to the bathroom because my bladder can’t handle as much laughter as it once did. Whew…I met it half way. I had to laugh into a towel.
I asked them:
Copeland: “Puberty and why he stinks.”
Me: “What are y’all talking about?”
(I start giggling)
I cannot seem to be mature about certain topics. And this was a stunning example.
Copeland: “Momma Mel says that you get hair everywhere.”
Me: “Yep one day you’ll have hairy tits, pits and a ball-fro on your cherries.”
(We all laughed.)
Me: Now who wants the shower first? Nuts and butts!!! Let’s go!!!
At this time in my life, I do my best to still laugh at their innocence. We take one day and one argument at a time. I correct them when I need to . But I also let them have the freedom to say what they feel that they need to say within reason. And I help them the best I can to deal with feelings. I also let them know that feelings are just feelings and they don’t last forever. So that when they’re almost fifty years old they don’t have to suffer with not ever knowing that the concept ever existed. So, maybe, just maybe, they can begin to understand that emotions aren’t terminal. And that all the power that they need is found from within themselves instead of in all the temptations on the outside that lead to even bigger problems.. And they won’t be forever stuck in an insufferable and totally self-obsessed hell.
“At first, addiction is maintained by pleasure, but the intensity of this pleasure gradually diminishes and the addiction is then maintained by the avoidance of pain.”
-Frank Tallis
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! Today I want to talk to you about a topic that is very near and dear to me. The topic is Addiction. I have been on all sides of this issue. I have been an addict that began to struggle early on in my teen years. I eventually went to get my bachelor’s degree in Psychology. Then onto getting my Master’s degree in counseling. And then went on to work in the field of addiction. And I have seen the havoc this problem has caused both in my own family and in other’s as well.
As a thirteen year-old, I was subjected to horrible verbal and emotional abuse at the hands of a teacher. The abuse was absolutely the most stressful time of my life up until that point. I was given a set of rules that I had to follow that was not reciprocated by the adults who set them. I can’t tell you how emotionally and physically trapped I felt sitting in that closet and berated every single day for a year. I was also humiliated in front of my class of peers. I was also sent to the office with disciplinary forms for things that I did not do. That’s not to say that I was completely innocent. I would verbally strike out at that teacher a few times intentionally in order to get in-school suspension just to get a day or two break from her verbal aggression. Knowing now how underdeveloped a child’s brain is in this time period helps me understand the whys and hows of this horrible behavior and how it begins and continues.
My first time using it was during an emotional time that was so chaotic for me. The “perfect storm” had started brewing previously for approximately two years before I ever began. And as it appears, I wasn’t the only teen in my graduating class who would have some of the same struggles. I had suppressed a lot of the memories about my molestation at an early age. I always had a smile on my face and was laughing as much as possible. However, the underpinnings of addiction were looking for a way into my soul. And it would be the disaster that would follow me into my adult years.
In my life, addiction would not begin as a few substances here and there recreationally like some stories. My situation presented itself at a time where I could no longer handle both the wait of depression and ongoing trauma. I felt emotionally that I was trapped and that no one was there for me in any way. So, I took my first opiates and I was in love. I would be in this type of committed relationship for many years to come. I didn’t see the horns and pitchfork that it carried. I saw it as the best friend that always provided relief and was non-judgmental. It was there to comfort me when comfort was not around. And for the moment, the evil words and actions of that teacher would be drowned out even if it was only for an hour.
I have had several people since then say to me, “Why didn’t you tell someone about what was going on?” The truth is I did and no one believed me. I told my principals but my reputation for being a “class clown” was apparently stronger than the actual truth. When the teacher received word that I had told them, nothing was resolved. The abuse only got worse. Eventually not only would I develop a chemical addiction, I would also have a process of addiction by way of self-harm and eating disorders.
When I began self-harming I was, once again, sent to the office only for the object that I had been stuck into my hand to be covered up and sent back to class. Once I got back to class, I was put on display in front of the class and made to feel less than once again. To those that always say that self-harm is “attention seeking” behavior I can tell you this. I never wanted a trophy for the number of scars that I wear on my body today. I wanted the pain to stop. Not every behavior is about a Tik-Tok or Facebook challenge. And it certainly wasn’t for me. Maybe it was a cry for help. However, those cries fell on deaf ears.
I had begun to notice the amount of anger that was building inside of me daily. And I was scared to death of what that might look like if it ever got free. Sitting with those intense emotions might get buried for the moment, but they will surface. And no matter how much you try to further suppress them, they come out on whoever happens to be around when the “straw that breaks the camel’s back” gets laid down. The scars that you can now see are plentiful. But it’s the scars that you can’t see that outnumber the others by a long shot.
I continue to struggle hard with addiction despite a vast knowledge and experience working with other addicts. Addiction isn’t something that you can outthink. And to those that think it’s about “willpower,” consider it “willpower” the next time you struggle with diarrhea. You cannot imagine the hold that it can have on you if you’ve never had that hold on you. And if you can socially drink and use and it doesn’t reach the point of addiction consider yourself lucky. The bad part is that you don’t know if you’ll become addicted until you try it. And I cannot think of a more perfect game of russian roulette to play. A little felt good. And a lot was not enough.
The fact that I have not died of addiction and others have left me in utter bewilderment. And yet I know that there is a bullet with my name on it each time I pull that trigger trying once again to just be comfortable in my own skin. Addiction is so cunning, baffling and powerful in ways that many don’t understand. And I have seen it ravage the lives of people and those they love to a point where my jaw drops. Even with all of that being said, I still don’t have a healthy fear of addiction. And I’m not sure that I ever will.
As a parent, I can only hope that my own children will choose a way that is more healthy even when times are difficult. And that if they are in some way being harmed that they won’t stay quiet and be covered in shame the way that bullies and perpetrators expect them to be. Get help immediately if you see that you or someone you love has an addiction. I have been in therapy for several years now and I still struggle with this horrible thing called addiction. The name just the label that is given to the substance or behavior that presents itself as a caring and compassionate friend that is waiting to cut our throats.
“Recovery is not a race.You don’t have to feel guilty if it takes you longer than you thought it would.”
“I am just a human being trying to make it in a world that is rapidly losing its understanding of being human.”
-John Trudell
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Okie dokie! I want to clarify one thing before I get into the topic for today. This blog is more like an online journal of sorts. I write about things that affect me at this moment. Many topics repeat and that’s perfectly ok. Each thing I write about is in some way me moving forward even if at a snail’s pace. Trauma is not one of those things that you can talk about today and it will be gone tomorrow. Those who have never been in therapy or are from a generation where therapy was not an option don’t get this concept. And truthfully neither did I. Heck, even though I grew up in the 1980’s therapy was only for the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Nevertheless, the trauma still left its mark.
All of this has been a process that doesn’t have a set time limit. And to think that I can process some of these gut wrenching problems on Monday and then on Tuesday be able to say and believe that the hurt and pain won’t resurface is only a pipe dream that leads to disappointment. You have to have a therapist who is compassionate and patient to say the least. And with my coach that is exactly what I got. And the time it takes to find a therapist that is a good fit sometimes involves more trauma. And it certainly did for me. It took me over forty years to become dysfunctional to this extreme. So, to think that all of that can be wiped out with even a few years of intense therapy is very unrealistic.
Today I want to talk about imperfection. The holidays are so incredibly stressful for me as with most people. I think it’s just all of the emotions of being around more people than I’m used to. And when the Frat Pad is in full swing with our crew it can be exhausting. Don’t get me wrong, I love hanging with my boys and friends. However, after all of the holidays are said and done I am completely exhausted. Maybe it’s because when we are all together we are all on such an emotional high that when it’s all over with my mind and body say, “Dana, What the hell were you thinking? You don’t have to do everything to extremes!” For the last several weeks I just can’t seem to get my energy back. I can’t sleep. I have been in a horrible depression.
As a child we don’t really think about the concept of “imperfection.” We go through our little child life learning from our mistakes on a daily basis. And that’s the way it should be. As we grow, socially, emotionally and physically everything begins to change. We begin to form our own view of the world and expectations that we have for ourselves. Maybe it’s just a combination of societal, personal, environmental, and familiar experiences that begin to teach us that ‘perfection” is the only way to be. Not all are affected in a negative way.
My life was affected negatively because of my experiences. When you are very impressionable at a young age simultaneously, your brain is still underdeveloped. You begin to see life for what it is either negatively or positively. If you are exposed like I was to narcissists who only told me that no matter what I did, I would never be good enough, my life began to play out just like that. I learned very quickly that not being perfect meant that my life was not as worthy as others. Little by little this core belief that I was inherently unworthy of good things continued to chip away at me until waking up every day became a punishment rather than a gift. And since the age of 13, I have been chronically suicidal. I still completely disregard dangerous and impulsive behaviors that are very detrimental at the very least.
When I was married to my ex-husband he took my whole feeling of inadequacy and belief that I wasn’t worthy of love, acceptance and compassion to an all time high. Instead of taking the information that I told him about my life to show me everything that I had been missing, he used it as a weapon to have ultimate control over me. Not to mention that he was also nineteen years my senior. I was so naive that I held onto his every word as truth. The “truth” however was that he was and still is a very sick man who was also horribly abused by his father. And to my knowledge was NEVER told that he was loved by him. So, if he wasn’t in control including his perfectionistic ways then he felt completely out of control. And he perpetuated that abuse onto me.
One of his favorite things to tell me was, “I’m not the one with the mental history.” And the fact of the matter is this, he has never gone to see a therapist for any of his issues. His mental illness has just never been diagnosed. It doesn’t not mean that he doesn’t have a mental illness. Therapy also requires a level of rigorous honesty about yourself that he is incapable of being. I will be the first to tell you that therapy isn’t always fun. However, it is necessary regardless how far down the spectrum you may go. When I needed therapy in my teens therapy was not possible. So, even though I began seeing a therapist in 2009 my work didn’t truly begin until about 8 years ago. At the time, I was undiagnosed with a very serious trauma related disorder that not just every professional knows how to treat. It goes way beyond basic depression and anxiety issues. The problem was so much more complex than I had any concept to be able to understand at that time. And let me just point out that any level of depression and anxiety are in their own way completely miserable.
I had a therapist long ago tell me when I was in despair about always making mistakes tell me, “Welcome to the human race.” And I never understood what that meant until years later. I still make a lot of mistakes as a human being. I take as much as I can and I fall. I still get angry and say hurtful things. And I also still go to bed many nights with tears in my eyes. I’m now learning how to embrace my whole self mistakes and all. And I’m trying not to let the opinions of those who bled out on me for crimes I didn’t commit determine my self worth. My imperfection is what classifies me as being “PERFECTLY IMPERFECT.”
“I don’t have to be perfect. All I have to do is show up and enjoy the messy, imperfect and beautiful journey of my life.”
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,love leaves a memory no one can steal.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today marks the 10th anniversary since Sarah died. Recently, I have done some work in therapy about her loss. What I’ve learned is how traumatic events never seem to lose their power. While it’s always been very upsetting to me to live without her. Re-experiencing those moments with the full force of emotions is decapitating my soul. And I truthfully, had no idea that I carried that much emotional exhaustion.
I have been asked before “why do you refer to her as like a God?” To me Sarah wasn’t just a friend. She was so many things to me. But most of all she was my hero. I sought her guidance as a struggling alcoholic/drug addict. But years later and the respect for a seemingly genuine woman progressed to a relationship where I experienced unconditional love and acceptance for no other reason than because I existed. I just needed someone who cared on all levels. And it was her.
I hungered for the peace that she seemed to carry around in her soul. I watched her from all angles and she was the most authentic person I had ever seen. And I was very intrigued. She was the same no matter where she went. Our very close relationship was like a “maternal mentor.” I wanted to learn everything I possibly could about her “road to peace and serenity.” There was a mutual space that we held for each other with the utmost respect. She was my “safe person.”
We spent many hours talking about life and the broken roads we had both taken. And I saw how she had risen. And how I was barely breathing. Over the years she became my “Mr. Miyagi” and my “Yoda.” Every Time I was around her I learned another lesson about life. And it was exactly what I needed. And I flourished. I had begun to rebuild my shattered self-confidence, self-worth, self image and the idea that I was entitled to love, happiness and belongingness just like everyone else.
I continued to struggle with addiction for a while. And Oh the boundaries. Anyone that knew her also knew that she was a boundary setting “queen.” Boundaries were placed before me many, many times. That was just something else that she taught me.
It wasn’t “rules” coming from an authority figure with her. It was simply teaching me about boundaries and standing up when they are tested. And she also taught me about our own boundaries and why we deserve for them to be respected. I realized that my way of thinking was courtesy of generational patterns of insanity. She praised individuality, autonomy and authenticity.
I began to notice that I was changing. My thinking, heart, conscience, was all changing for the better. I needed the stability of someone who was loving and consistent. And I’m sorry but there are just not that many people like that who possess both qualities. And I thanked God everyday for the blessings I received that allowed me to be open enough to experience “love” for the first time since stepping onto the gravel of my broken road.
I had, once again, found that passion for life and the ability to succeed which was lost for many years. I began excelling as a student. And I realized that I was not too dumb to learn. And about the symbolism of the Phoenix in Greek Mythology. The symbol of the camel in 12-step recovery. And about living life on life’s terms. And about her walk with Jesus. And how life is about acceptance even if it’s not the hand that you wanted dealt. The woman I speak of I would’ve laid down my life for. And I still will at the speaking of her name.
And when she died, I’ve been unable to move past my grief. Instead I burned every bridge that I could. And I found dreams and ambitions in the safe confine of isolation slowly withering away. I guess over the years I never saw having to live life without her or her guidance. But here we are. And her absence is more than I can bear.
I exist but I no longer live. I keep chasing the monster that keeps chasing me. Again I am the shell of who I used to be. Shouldn’t her memory and advice propel me past that? Shouldn’t living a life that I know would please her give me the energy to help me carry on? Maybe. But my heart feels none of that. I am paralyzed by fear, grief, loneliness, sadness and debilitating depression. But I do have my memories. I guess sometimes, though, the wounds are just too great.
“The absence of your loved one will lead to a profound wound of their loss that will never completely mend. But they will forever reside in your heart and will remain partially broken.”
-Unknown
***Don’t forget to watch the video at the end!!!***
I wake up, puddle of sweat I have nightmares, and I get back into bed It’s like these voices just keep playing on repeat in the back of my head And I can’t get them to leave me alone Thirty-years old but still hates being alone when I’m home Because that’s when the voices get the loudest Opening up like this is a moment far from my proudest But these demons keep pressin’ me, I swear they’re the foulest But I’ve grown comfortable with their presence, my conscious is calloused My dreams are their playground, my thoughts are their palace I tried to evict them, they returned with more Anxiety isn’t an item you can return at the store I was 10 the first time I had a panic attack Like a punch to the stomach, there’s no planning for that And I didn’t tell anyone because I was too scared about what they’d say And I knew deep down that there was nothing they could do to take it away It was my fight to fight and my battle to face I remember that house I grew up in and how those demons would rattle that place I’d lay awake at night just staring at the ceiling I’ve spent my whole life trying to run from that feeling That feeling of being lonely, that feeling of being lost That feeling of being sick when the lights turn off That feeling of being depressed, that feeling of being anxious That feeling of screaming to God begging Him to take this Only to get silence in return I’d lay in that bed crying, and I’d toss and I’d turn And I turn and I toss to this day The doctors gave me medication, the pastor said pray I tried both, and this anxiety still hasn’t gone away So forgive me if I fantasize about being gone today I’m an actor who got really good at being on today But when I turn off, I go right back into the shadows I’m in the deep-end now, but I started in the shallows And I might just drown myself in these waves Suburbian hell, these homes are all graves Everyone’s coping with something but won’t admit it, they’re all too afraid And these kids are glued to watching me, what do I say? If I’m honest with them, maybe they won’t think highly of me Everything they want me to be is what I’m dying to be But everything I really am is what I’m not trying to be I want them to know that they’re not alone in their struggles I wake up in tears and fall back asleep in those puddles And I don’t ever think I’ll get out of this valley I’m in Terrified that all along God has tallied my sins And if He has, the number must be astronomic My life is a joke, and you keep reading, just pass the comic Because everything you think that I am is far from the truth I wish I could open up to you and just let loose But my vocal cords get tight when the Devil pulls on this noose And then I’m back to keeping everything bottled up inside But he’s not gonna keep me from pulling the throttle back this time He’s not gonna keep me trapped like this I can’t get out of bed, I was never made to act like this I’m packing up my bags, and he can’t stop me from running fast like this I’m not gonna be a slave to these voices of anxiety I’m shoving the Devil back for every time that he lied to me And I’m taking a belt to these demons who whisper despair in my ear And I’m ignoring every naysayer who stands and stares when I’m near I’m moving forward out of this slump I took my bruises, I took my lumps I fell down, but I got right back up So give me a torch, and let’s light that up I’m setting fire to the Devil, and I’m dousing these demons in gasoline Look at you now, now you’re not laughing at me Now who’s the one who’s being tortured and punked? Now who’s the one closing every door that I want? Now who’s the one watching the other burn the ground? Don’t look away from me, you better turn back around I’m not done talking to you now I’m watching your moves I’m on your back, and I’m stalking you, too And when you try to ruin some other kid’s life, I’ll be stoppin’ you, too You took thirty years of my life, and I can’t get that back You told me to end my life, and I nearly got killed for that You took me down, but I bounced right back I was lost then, and I got found like that And everything you told me I wasn’t someone new told me I was And everything you hated in me someone new told me He loves And when you tried to kill me with depression and anxiety He reached in and placed hope deep inside of me So I’m done listening to you and letting you control me I’m announcing it now that the Devil can’t hold me I’m walking away from the old me And I’m demanding a refund on every lie that you sold me You knew I’d find a way out sooner or later And I found my escape in the form of a Savior.
“To become authentic we require a thirst for freedom.”
-Don Mateo Sol
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. I love the smell of burning sage. Mentally it somehow provides a bubble that no one’s negativity can penetrate. Even if only for a moment.
I have been shamed by many entities, friends and family for being a lesbian. I have two superhero children that came out of that relationship with their other mom. And my children have also had that held against them as well. Was that selfish of us to bring children into the world knowing that? No. I believe that God saw that we had two children that were absolutely perfect for the situation. We brought those children into the world loving them and wanting to be parents. We have always told them that families look differently with race and gender differences. And is in no way right or wrong. It just is. I’ve also been asked, “Well, what if they come out as bisexual, gay or heaven forbid in a relationship with another race?” My response has always been, “Then what a great and very diverse family they will have to be a part of.” I have told my boys from the beginning, “I will never hold against you who you love. If you can find someone who truly loves you for who you are and respects you, go for it! I will have a problem if they are abusive buttholes.”
I lost my sanity trying to be what others told me that I should be. And being a part of the LGBTQ+ community oftentimes we are “forced” to make a family outside of our families of origin. Not as a choice but as a necessity. Me and my children have always been seen as less than. We have not been included or have been treated as “sloppy seconds” because of who I loved. And how they were conceived because personal beliefs on the topic.
I have watched people through the presidential election and the horrible crimes of P. Diddy destroy relationships. One thing I’ve learned is that I’m not going to agree with you and you will not agree with me. So, what’s the point of arguing just for the sake of arguing? However, what I have made abundantly clear is that if you see something done that’s illegal or wrong and don’t speak out, then you’re just as guilty. I have learned some very difficult lessons about being scared into silence. My life has been largely influenced by narcissists. And the only title that fits perfectly is “emotional vampires” and “masters of deception.” The narcissist that I was enslaved by always called himself “a local celebrity.” To put it very bluntly, these kind of people are very scary. And cause colossal damage to their victims.
It doesn’t matter if you’re from a small town, politician or celebrity. Wrong is wrong. I can spot a narcissist a mile away. And there is no place in a society that harbors these type of criminals that often operate in the shadows. Just because you don’t see them in this role, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen. They are more concerned with their image than your well-being. If you’re operating openly then I have even less respect for those individuals. That just tells me that you’re even more dangerous. The commonality between narcissists is the fact that their egos are much bigger and stands out from others. They feel that they are untouchable. And they also believe that money, popularity, fame and scare tactics keep them safe from others that oppose their stance. They are the “god” of their own universe. I have also had family members that are narcissists. Most don’t change because they don’t see themselves as doing anything wrong. The ones that do change only do so because of “scared straight” tactics. And the only thing you can do is keep your emotional distance.
The abuse, for me, only got worse when the doors were closed. If this doesn’t fit your opinions, then take what you can use and leave the rest. It’s the beauty of living in a “free society.” I speak only MY truth. And pain changes people. I’m not here to coddle anyone’s delicate feelings.
When I was a child, a teacher was allowed to unmercifully abuse me. Yes “ALLOWED!” I spoke with school administrators 20+ years later only to be told that they knew the abuse was going on but they couldn’t do anything about it. Let that sink in for a minute. They knew that a child was being abused and did nothing about it. I fought adults on my own. Not one adult stepped forward and said, “This is wrong! She’s a child and you’re committing crimes!” GUITY! GUILTY! GUILTY!
Granted the science about childhood trauma and its effects on adulthood functionality was in its infancy at the time. Unfortunately, I am only one of millions of adult children who now know the harsh realities of just how deeply abuse can effect someone. In this day and age, ignorance can no longer be used as an excuse. Science is everywhere. And so is the research and studied outcomes of how negatively shaming affects a person’s entire being.
I don’t try and paint life and this world as a beautiful oasis where nothing goes wrong. I don’t tell my kids many specifics about my trauma history. But make no mistake they know who “the mean man” is. And they know about that mean teacher that locked me in a closet. They also know, see and experience what it’s like to watch their mom struggle from the consequences of abuse. And also what can happen to another person when we don’t find a way to heal our own wounds. And if that makes me a bad parent because they are prepared for the difficulties of life, then so be it. I used to have a real complex about having a mental illness that is trauma induced. But then I realized that what I saw when I looked the eyes of my children was that I was raising advocates.
As a parent, my job is to protect my children as much as I possibly can. That does not mean smothering them with my own personal beliefs. We are to teach them how to think. Not what to think. Teach them how to make educated decisions. And sometimes allowing them that freedom is very difficult knowing that there is a great potential for growing pains. We learn through our mistakes or we don’t.
I allow my children to make their own decisions within reason. I tell them, “Here are your choices. Whatever your decision is comes with either positive or negative consequences. Make your decision.” When they come to Camp Frat Pad I tell them both, “If you want to stay up all night that’s fine. But, if you’re a butthole tomorrow you will get in trouble.” Both boys go to bed at a decent hour most of the time. I also allow them to have the freedom to dress and cut or not cut their hair anyway they want. All in an effort to assert their individuality.
That’s a dream that I wished I had been allowed to live. My individuality always seemed to have some type of constraints. I’m not the kind of person that conforms to social “norms.” I am very ok with who I am. And the more you try to force your hand and make me conform, the more I rebel. I will also not be a part of sitting idly by and watching my children be treated differently because they come from a minority family. How can I expect them to stand up for other individuals’s differences if I don’t stand up for them? I have watched many people claim that they’re one way. Then tuck tail and run when it comes to the statement that is not popular among others in their peer group. I’ve watched that many times. And those people will not admit to any wrong doing. They just want only you to change. I don’t need to change that part of me. I have no problem being gay.
I will not ever silence MY truth because of someone else’s uncomfortability ever again. My children are watching me to see if I am who I say I am. And that I am. Nothing more, nothing less. And I make absolutely no apologies for being authentic. Because I can’t be nobody but me!
“If you want to know where to find your contribution to the world, look at your wounds. When you learn how to heal them, teach others.”
“To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make everybody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting; and never stop fighting. Stay true to yourself, yet always be open to learning.” -E.E. Cummings, A Poet’s Advice to Students
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! Ok that feels much better. This is a blog that I’ve been wanting to write for some time. For the last couple of months, I have been in a depression that has been absolutely debilitating. Maybe it’s been due to the stress of recent surgeries. Or maybe it’s been a combination of that and coming off all of my psych meds. Yes, you heard that correctly. I am now off of my meds and the mood swing has snapped! Run! Right or wrong. I took myself off in a rather drastic way. When I get an idea in my head that I’m going to do something, write it down. It will get done. Now I don’t advise coming off psych meds all at once. However, I wanted it done immediately. So, I put myself through absolute hell. I was so sick physically that coming off heroin would’ve been easier. Nevertheless, It’s finally over. And things mentally and physically have come alive again. And I do mean everything.
I remember looking at myself in a mirror saying, “Well hey you! Where have you been?” I don’t have any problems with the idea of antidepressants or any other type of psychiatric meds. For me, though, I was tired of taking them and constantly having to worry about copays to community mental health providers that I truly didn’t have the extra money to afford. I have also been on the state’s cannabis program for a couple of years with the goal of one day coming off those other meds. I’m just too impatient to go through the slow process of convincing professionals to continue tapering. And being that I’m a “street pharmacist”, I just decided to do it myself. I still struggle with severe insomnia that has somewhat plateaued at the moment. My cannabis spreadsheet is finally complete! Which means that I now tailor my “green meds” to what I need. Instead of also having to factor in traditional meds and their side effects. This might not work for everyone. So, do you boo-boo.
What this has also done is find the backbone that I knew I once had. Antidepressants make you much more tolerant of criticisms and everyday frustrations. Now I just smoke a bowl or do a few dabs and it does the same thing instantly. One thing that I’m constantly having to adjust is medication for pain management. That, in itself, has been quite the adjustment.
Doctors, no matter the issues, are just not willing to help with pain management enough to help keep people comfortable. I didn’t say keep them high or addicted. With “Big Pharma”, though, that’s how they line their pockets.
While living in New Mexico and Texas, my lack of pain management led me straight back to the streets. And that always leads to either jails, rehabs or the grave. There’s just too much Fentanyl out there for my comfort level. I can honestly say that being on the cannabis program previously and now that my addiction issues have not reared their ugly heads in this area of my life. Trust me, when addiction wants to take me, I go seemingly very willingly. In other areas of my life I am still in the grasp of addiction. Regardless, life continues to be brutal. And parenting doesn’t get easier either. It just has new challenges.
In therapy, everything ebbs and flows. Sometimes it’s easier than others. And sometimes you seem to plateau. Recently, I have had my most painful trauma hit me at my weakest point. I was literally awake for five days and crazy as hell. I know what a fabulous time to abandon medication and its requirements. I have always taken the difficult road in life that this time was no different. Dangerous? Probably. To me, doing things safely just takes way too long. And I’m not willing to wait.
I have always been a people pleaser. I have done what others wanted regardless of what I wanted to do. I felt that I have always needed to somehow strive for perfection that could never be attained. I’ve always tried to be for others, losing the vision for who and what I’ve wanted and needed to be. I’ve attempted to be straight knowing full well that I’m not. I have dressed in ways others wanted me to. Acted in ways expected of me. I kept my hair cut in ways to only pacify others. And I lost myself in the process.
I won’t ever say that “coming out” has been an easy process. It’s very different for every person. It’s probably the most difficult process I’ve ever had to go through. And more painful than you can imagine. Think about this for a second. If you wake up in the morning as someone who is sexually “heterosexual”, imagine what you would do if someone told you, “No, you must be gay.” You can try and do your best to be gay. You might even speak the lingo. But in your heart, you have always been straight. You just can’t be gay no matter what you are told or what you are shamed for. So, one day you just stand up and say, “I don’t care what gender you think that I should be with. I’m not nor have I ever been gay!” Imagine how freeing that would feel, for once in your life, to be who you know that you are. If you can’t comprehend a scenario like this then be glad you can’t.
It’s kind of like individuals who don’t understand why the LGBTQ+ community has gay pride celebrations. How many times have I heard the comments like, “Well we(straight) don’t have “straight pride” celebrations.” The Stonewall Riots were not about having “Straight Pride.” They were about the freedom of being a member of the LGBT community without the fear of being arrested. The idea of “straight pride” is ignorant. And you will look stupid trying to argue that point. So don’t get jealous every year when June rolls around and all of the rainbows, glitter, unicorns and individual pride colors come out and the LGBTQ+ communities are beautiful and flamboyant. Be glad that you don’t have a reason to celebrate “Straight Pride.”
I “came out” in my 30’s as gay. This has presented many problems including lost relationships, shunning by family members and loss of jobs. The list goes on and on. And so do the whispers and backbiting. As scared as I was to make that step forward, I did it! And I have NEVER regretted my decision a day since. I finally stood up and proclaimed who I am! People will call you all kinds of names. It’s the ones you answer to that counts!
“Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.” -Brene Brown
She has two faces. One face that she shows the world, loved ones, and in public. The smiling one. The happy, friendly, and talkative one. The confident one full of laughter and positivity. The face that everyone is used to.
The second face is the real face. The one she tries not to show anyone. The face behind closed doors, when she’s alone away from the world, in the security of her own emotions that she doesn’t want to show anyone else or have to explain them. It’s exhausting trying to look happy and like nothing is bothering you. The face that stares off at nothing or patterns on the floor or drapes.
The face that cries in the shower, in bed, car rides alone, cries sitting on the couch, or doing things around for house. The sad face that stares back at her in the mirror and looks nothing like she used to be. Well to her anyway. Others say she looks the same. The face that looks strong to the people she knows, but is really just shards of broken glass inside. Yes, the girl that was there for everyone, and strong for others..is now split into two.
Two faces, one broken spirit. She can’t bear the losses. It feels like a chapter of a wonderful book closed never to be open again.
All she has are memories and visions in her head that she plays over and over. Nothing is the same to her. Everything is different. She can’t cope with daily life, her Doctor said. So she writes to help herself, and she has her two faces.
What’s funny is, the sad face is the face worth a thousand words underneath in the depths of complexity. While the happy face full of laughter, love, positiveness, and fun..is a straight shooter.”
“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’”
—Mary Anne Radmacher
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! I never thought that I would ever see the end to this set of blog posts. With it being such an incredibly difficult topic, I chose to take my time and release anything I needed no matter the pain.
Fast forward to 2012. I eventually underwent a total knee replacement in my thirties. It was the most excruciating pain imaginable. The care I received from my orthopedic surgeon’s nurse practitioner mentally transported me back to the days and specific events associated with my ex-husband. The flashbacks were unsettling. I would be ridiculed for crying again, this time by a medical professional. I vowed to avoid doctors for the rest of my life whenever possible. I wish I could say that I would not be treated that way in the medical community again. However, this has occurred repeatedly.
I was so upset at an urgent care facility that I accidentally wet myself. The practitioner made fun of me yet again. I believe that in various areas of education, when the topic of “transference” is discussed, the idea is often conveyed in a manner that causes students to negate the humanity of themselves and others. They often lose sight of the Hippocratic Oath, which states, “First, do no harm.”
In the United States, from 2003 to 2014, 8.8% of approximately 120,000 suicide victims have chronic pain. And has appeared to increase over time (Petrosky et al.,2018)
Within the last ten to fifteen years, I’ve also had neck surgery, two back surgeries, gall bladder surgery, trigeminal neuralgia known as the “Suicide Disease”, elbow surgery, a hysterectomy, spinal cord stimulator, left knee bone graft where I also had blood clots in both my leg and lungs. Additionally, I experienced COVID-19 several times while simultaneously being dealt another blood clot in my lungs. I now also have asthma as a result of contracting the virus.
Within the past year, the local orthopedic facility has seen me many times. Each time I consulted various practitioners, they consistently informed me that there was nothing wrong with me. But I was determined to be the squeaky wheel until I found help. I was compelled to seek practitioners in a different state. Through my tears, I have persistently sought answers for my pain with the guidance of my dear “coach.” The suicidal ideations have been continual while going through this long, arduous process. A portion of the PTSD I experience is related to these and other situations. And to think, it was entirely preventable. This is one of my favorite quotes that pertains to this very topic is..
“If you don’t heal what hurts, you’ll bleed on those that didn’t cut you.”
-Anonymous
I am also about to undergo my thirteenth knee surgery. It is a revision surgery for knee replacement in which the prosthetic is loosening from the bone. This means that It has to be removed and another one installed. I have received only thirteen of the thirty years that would provide me relief. . I am now absolutely terrified of going through this surgery again. The physical therapy will be challenging, and I will likely cry during every session as well.
Needless to say, pain is a significant trigger for me. It elicits a variety of reactions, both visible and invisible. I have also come to realize that Dissociative Identity Disorder may not respond well to anesthesia either. I have been trapped in a mental prison, and chained to each of my perpetrators. But I must honestly say that it was all an illusion. What I have come to realize through many years of abuse is, “YOU CANNOT, IN ANY WAY, OWN OR POSSESS A CHILD OF GOD!” That was his disillusionment.
“Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that’s what makes you strong.” —Sarah Dessen
**And as always, don’t forget to watch the video below!**
“The more you trust your intuition, the more empowered you become, the stronger you become, and the happier you will become.”
-Gisele Bundchen
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away! Ready. Set. Blog! I hope this blog has brought insight and the knowledge that you are not alone. And that just because someone can’t see your emotional wounds doesn’t mean that it’s not there.
While he psychologically manipulated me, I hung on his every word as if it were scripture. I accept full responsibility for all my actions. But the situation seemed to be escalating exponentially. We married four years later. I do not distinctly remember feeling genuinely happy about it. I just thought that marrying was the next logical step. I remember thinking “no wonder people are miserable when they’re married.” Secretly, though, I was terrified that I was making the biggest mistake of my life. And that is exactly what I did. Nevertheless, we were soon legal. I saw flashing signs warning of potential danger ahead. But I was steadfast in my determination to make it all work.
My belief, at that time, was to just to try and love him. I eventually realized that I would never be able to get that close to him. Soon, though, everything was beginning to make sense. His ever-increasing controlling traits were only getting more aggressive. He would call me names. He would humiliate me away from others until it became overtly obvious. I thought, “Why was seeing it all so foreign? I wouldn’t understand for several years later. The reason that it was so foreign was because I had never seen my daddy treat my mom that way. My daddy is one of respectable men in the community. And I never once saw him disrespect my mom even one time. I was looking for a good man just as he had always been. Not one angry word or action had I ever seen.
He made me do things without my consent. Turn on for him, maybe? I was secretly so miserable. He would rape my mind just like he would my body. He belittled me, stalked me, had total control over what I ate. I felt like it was a prison.I was told that I was stupid so many times I no longer feel as sting when I’m degraded. I bought into all this “perfect” life he was selling. Hook, line and sinker. I soon realized that the safest thing to do was to just do whatever he asked to get through the moment. I had become his emotional punching bag. I was also systematically being pulled away from family and friends. He was going to slowly transform me into his image of “perfection.” And no matter what I did, I would never I couldn’t achieve that unattainable goal. When you’re in a relationship with a narcissist, they see theirselves as “The” God of universe. They never see any need for improvement in any way. Because the only one who needs improvement is you. There was absolutely “zero” concern for both my physical and mental wellbeing.
The initial injury compromised the blood supply to the lower portion of my femur. When I begin to regenerate new bone, it would flake off fragments that needed to be surgically removed to ensure proper functionality. Due to my delay in seeking medical attention, the bony structures continued to shred the cartilage, resulting in further damage to the entire joint. That made him very angry.
There were no words of encouragement or empathy. Just incessant berating for something that I couldn’t control. He wasn’t much of a cuddler either. And after 14 years of abuse, neither was I. If he did there were always ulterior motives. I can vividly recall crying when I was out of his sight, as the pain was so intense. The intensity of crying heightened every situation. Until I learned how not to cry. I was never allowed to take mood stabilizers or antidepressants because “what would people think if they found out that his wife was a head case?” To make matters worse, he would get so angry that he took my pains meds and threw them out into the rain. And I was not allowed to retrieve them. My mom was standing right there and witness it all.
I also experienced severe kidney and bladder infections. I had fevers, hematuria, nausea, and vomiting. It was extremely painful. When he finally took me to an urgent care facility, we were informed that I was at a high risk of developing sepsis. He stated in front of the nurse and doctors, “I told her that she needed to be seen sooner, but she did not want to get checked out.” He then said, “I suppose you won’t do that again next time will you?” I accepted responsibility once more while knowing that the real reason for the delay was because I wasn’t being allowed to get the help.
Things were getting scarier by the day. I was stalked, raped, verbally and mentally abused. I knew how to do one thing that had helped me in the past. Mentally just go to some other place. And let someone else fill in to help with this monumental task. I was made fun of anytime I hurt. I was called a hypochondriac. And eventually I was told that my medical needs were too costly, and that I would just have to learn to deal with the pain. Specifically, I still needed more knee surgeries and procedures for simple wellness. And once again I endured pain in every kind of way you can imagine.
In the end, I lacked self-confidence in myself and was completely shattered mentally. It was fortunate that I left on my own. And I did it and came out alive. The abuse and manipulation I endured over the course of 14 years left me with nothing positive. I realized that I had lost “me” in the process. And I still struggle with my daily life. Let’s just say that relationships are not things that I excel in.
I developed an incredibly high tolerance for pain. However, when I reach my limit, I take a sharp left at a “normal” reaction. My traumatic response is instantaneous. I am very apprehensive about visiting doctors. And it terrifies me to think that I could be berated again.
Maybe life isn’t about avoiding the bruises. Maybe it’s about collecting the scars to prove that we showed up for it.”
-Hannah Brencher
**And as always, don’t forget to watch the video below!**
“Triggers are like little psychic explosions that crash through avoidance and bring the dissociated, avoided trauma suddenly, unexpectedly, back into consciousness.”
-Carolyn Spring
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy, go away! Ready. Set. Blog! Get comfortable because you need to finish reading this one. This took a few days to complete this blog. There is still a considerable amount of raw emotion associated with this topic. Okay, I will continue from where I left off.
When I encountered my next predator, I was 17 years old. He was 36 years old. He was nineteen years my senior. I acknowledge that the entire situation was chaotic at that time. Unfortunately, that chaos became the norm. I realized that I became terrified in the idea that when there was not chaos, I was terrified. I was suddenly thrust headfirst into a harsh adult world for which I was unprepared. It was received like a “turd in the punch bowl.”
Living in a small southern city in the “Bible Belt” region of Mississippi entails a unique set of rules. To put it bluntly, “Being gay should never be regarded as an accepted option.” You are expected to graduate from high school. Attend college. Consider marrying someone of the opposite sex. And to pursue careers while raising children.
I had no idea that my life would drastic 360 degree turn. I would endure a 14-year reign of severe and traumatic terror. What I did not realize as a teenager was that predators can take on various forms, each uniquely individualized. I believed he was my “Prince Charming.” However, every day I looked into the eyes the devil. I entered that relationship with a deep sense of commitment. I was also trying to engage in the “heterosexual game.” And I realized that I was different.
In the beginning, he had been a man with a silver tongue. He said all the right things, leading me to believe that he was a good man who genuinely wanted to love me and build a life together. That was undoubtedly the most misleading revelation of the truth. As he stated, “I was roaming the high schools looking for a wife.” Why did I not find that creepy? Since then, I have asked myself that same question every day thereafter. But what was done, was in fact done.
When I was an athlete, you recognize that pain is an essential component of your training regimen. It is an undeniable reality that managing pain is an inherent aspect of life. You consistently challenge your body in ways you never thought possible. Being in an abusive situation is fundamentally different.
In the four years that we dated, I remember thinking, “Something doesn’t seem right.” I couldn’t identify exactly what “it” was at the time. But I soon realized the harsh reality. I began to realize elements of his likewise traumatic past. Living with a very controlling and abusive father I heard his horror stories. And until his father died, I can tell you that there was some part of him that still feared his father. An interesting fact was that prior to going to visit his father I was directed about how to act. I was so uncomfortable each time. I would watch and listen to how they would interact. And the stories that they both told had a lot of similarities. This was just paranoia, right? No. There were reasons to be paranoid and scared. And I was.
“Your gut knows what’s up, even if your brain doesn’t want to admit it.”-
-Anonymous
**And also don’t forget to watch the video below!”
“Living with chronic pain is like trying to get comfortable on a cactus sofa.”
-Sean Mackey, Professor of Pain Medicine at Stanford
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! Ready. Set. Blog! This is a blog that I’ve needed to write for a really long time. The topic of chronic pain affects every area of my life.
I feel that having both mental and physical pain is too much to ask of a person. I’m not talking about the aches and pains of aging. If that were the type of pain that I experience, I would have no reason to complain. My pain started as a young child with horrific leg pain that would have me in tears. I vividly remember my parents rubbing my legs complimented with a heating pad in order for the tears to stop falling just long enough to fall asleep. And there were no guarantee that I wouldn’t wake up during the night in the same miserable condition. The pediatrician said that the pain was simply “growing pains.” Could this physical pain have been a result of the trauma that I was experiencing? Maybe. Eventually, I would seem to outgrow the leg pains. In the late 1970’s and early 1980’s maybe there were no other answers. And I can accept that. Subconsciously, no one believed me because the depth of my pain couldn’t be seen. However, the mark that was left on the psyche of a small child is one that has left a permanent mental disfigurement.
The next time I remember pain being an issue was as a 13-year-old. The traumatic situations that were occurring left me with horrible headaches. It was at the time that I began having suicidal ideations. The one consistent message coming from my “loud thoughts” was that I wasn’t worthy was unworthy of life. The trauma of that year continues to pound the same messages in my daily life. I just couldn’t see a way out in any direction. It was one agonizing day after another for an entire year. And again, no one believed me. I would also suffer a kneeinjury that I’ve never been about to truly recover from. I’m still dealing with it now in my late forties. When you abuse a child mentally, it’s so easy for them to believe it. To deal with it all, I began “grasping at straws” trying to find 5 minutes of relief. And I did! I found drugs, alcohol, eating disorders and self-harm.
Then I moved into high school. But the previous year continued to torment me. Not only was I caught up in the cycle of addiction, but I was also starting to die from them all. Anyone who says that addiction isn’t painful are lying. It doesn’t matter what type of addiction. It might not seem to hurt in the moment. However, if you are a human being with a conscience, it will hurt at some point. And when it did, I kept using “it” out of guilt and shame. My hopes and dreams were going down the drain. And I had no idea how to make it all stop. I wasn’t my own boss anymore. It was my boss. I would also have another knee surgery, maybe two. And then, I met him…
“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”
“When [Jesus] saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd”.
Matthew 9:36
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Now I’m ready! I thought I could finish writing this later. But No, cigar! Now is as good a time as any other.
I keep coach very up to date with my thoughts and close attention with my “parts.” My main protector has been upset for quite a while. She’s willing to try to derail me in any possible way. So, naturally, I wondered why? Like most teenagers, she has once again, began striking out in fear.
I don’t typically do well with guided imagery. In the past, I’ve gotten tickled and would create some type of comedy. I’m always the one in the room when therapists start with creating a scenario like, “walking into the woods and becoming one with your senses.” What do I see? What do I hear? What do I feel? And then I’m the dufus and speaks up by saying, “It was me that stepped in it! I’m sorry for the smell!” And as if that wasn’t enough I would add this one in just for giggles. “Oh No! It’s a tornado in the distance! It’s coming straight for us! Run!” I know it’s silly. Since working with my coach, I haven’t done anything like that. You begin to realize when you take things in perspective. All I know is that I was tired of constantly trying to run away from things that are much bigger than me.
I settle in and begin breathing while coach guides me to facing the pain. My protector had a death grip on that baby. Vowing to protector her at all cost I thought, “Oh boy! Here we go again.” I’m doing my best to stay focused when I heard, “And just imagine that Jesus is standing there.” I froze while watching the interaction in my mind. Jesus spoke up and said, “Bring me the baby.” The protector surprisingly froze and all the angry words leave as soon as they had appeared. She slowly walked to Jesus and hands him the baby. The angry protector doesn’t say or do anything in protest. And for the first time in my life, the baby is calm and falls asleep on Jesus’s shoulder. The protector takes her cue by turning with Jesus’s hand on her shoulder. She too had a calmness that many have been unable to achieve. And she says only in a way that fits her perfectly, “Don’t worry. Jesus has our back!” Jesus then says, “Go ahead. You’ve been waiting for this your entire life, my child. I will provide all the protection that is needed for all of them and you.” I felt calm and reassured that I was making the right decision.
During, “The Passion Of The Christ” diamond painting project, I was told that he would never leave me. And had left me to help in securing my insecurities. And I remembered that I heard something that was said in an earlier encounter, “Me and the father will give you the strength you need.” And I realized that the gift in this encounter was that No one said that it would be easy. Jesus upheld his promise that he was not abandoning, any part of me, no matter the number. And so me and my parts begin the difficult road of healing the most difficult part of our trauma.
It is through these seven gifts–wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, fortitude, piety, and fear of the Lord–that we grow in holiness and are continually reminded of God’s loving presence within us and around us.”
– John 14:26
***Don’t forget to watch the special two videos on the bottom***
“Don’t be afraid to celebrate a promise when kept. In doing so, you’re the potential for a better world.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Ok, much better. Today I am going to write about a recent occurrence in therapy. Through some recent events, therapy has led in the direction to tackle my core issues about my adoption. Truly I can say that it’s not a day that I have been looking towards with excitement. It is so necessary, in fact, that I still shiver about how painful it will be. For those that don’t know, it is a topic so strong and powerful that the thought of it makes me want to vomit. However, it’s something that has caused a dark cloud to follow me in every facet of my and for the majority of my life. The very mention of the topic causes a retraction that is so instantaneous and powerful, that I don’t feel that I have a weapon in my arsenal strong enough to stand a chance against its negativity.
I have trusted my coach on so many occasions for when it would be the appropriate timing to tackle different traumatic events. But the timing of this one, I would soon realize that no matter when she would decide on that “perfecting timing” it would never be convenient. I have written and spoken about it many times. And most of the time, I do so from my brain instead of my heart. I knew instantly that it would require a level of trust that I struggle to accept. After 8 years of doing therapy with her, I should know and feel that it’s been long enough to tackle the “primal wound.” And I ashamedly still don’t know if I’m ready. I get some specifics about the plan, and I sit with the idea for a few days knowing that coach has never led me astray. And she ALWAYS has my best interest at hand.
A few days went by, and I decided that no matter how scared, I would at least try. Seeing the strength and compassion in her eyes that I felt when I first met her told me that everything would be “ok” despite the agonizing pain. The biggest protector in my “system” of many distinct parts of myself is held by a 13-year-old that would give anyone a run for their money. She has protected me so many times from total annihilation on so many and very distinct levels. And this time would be no different. Once she realized that I had agreed to do the work, she immediately began throwing up roadblocks. The infant part of me is the most ferociously defended of any type of perceived threat. And I told “coach” what has been occurring. This defender is “top notch” at keeping me safe. But will also sabotage things out of fear. Some of her tactics were immensely helpful during traumatic events. However, she is still reactive during peace time. And this causes therapeutic roadblocks that can throw a “monkey wrench” in about any plan.
Coach and I begin the session with some guided imagery that helps me to prepare for the monumental task before us. What I begin to see is that this “protector” is holding hostage the newborn baby part. And she has always been inconsolable. No matter the situation, this little baby is like a an infant with colic. There is nothing that has helped her agonizing cries EVER! There is no amount of compassion that has been able to comfort her. She is non-verbal but her emotions are so uncategorical that I am not able to capture it with words. I am not able to listen to lullabies or tolerate the sound of a baby crying. When the boys were little their cries flew all over me. But at that time, I didn’t know how to do anything but run from the situation. I thought to myself, “How do people deal with a baby crying both inside their heads and as parents. What I didn’t know, at that time, was that “normal” people don’t hear things like that. I wouldn’t understand my pain until I understood the reason for the crying. And then one day the “A-HA” moment happened. She was retracting from the pain that occurred when me and my “birth mom” separated.
When I met my birth mom many years ago, she said to me what I had always feared, “You were an inconvenient then and you still are!” I can’t tell you how bad that hurt. And I still can’t understand how that must’ve felt like for a newborn baby. I could, however, understand what it was like for a 30-year-old adult. It was absolutely the worst pain imaginable. The rejection was like no other situation that I had experienced. And to put that much fear and pain on a little bitty baby was something that I would have to find healing from at some point.
I tried everything I could think of to fill that hole to bring me some level of comfort. I have tried drugs, alcohol, self-harm, relationships and nothing was strong enough. Coach would have the answers. But would I have the courage to step out on faith and take her hand as guidance once more? Not long ago I would speak with a resounding, “NO!” What I didn’t know was how very quickly I would change that lifetime of pain with a different answer.
“Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.”
-Voltaire
***Don’t forget to watch the video at the bottom***
“Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
―C.S. Lewis
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Ok, I’m better. I have become obsessed with diamond painting and how soothing it is for me. And so is writing. I was working on a custom designed painting which was 15 inches x 23 inches. It consists of 40 assorted colors. And it was my first portrait. The design is, by far, the most intricate design pattern I have ever done. I spent close to 80 hours and around 50,000 pieces. I was very skeptical about how it would turn out. And my greatest fear was that I would put all the time and effort into only revealing itself looking like and melted and hammered moon pie. The shading was also nothing that I had experienced. I had already decided that no matter how it turned out, I would keep this one for myself. And from the beginning, it proved itself to be monumental. I had gotten into the mindset that I would pace myself. Taking my time is not usually something with which I can connect. I always want to get everything done in the first 3 hours. There were around 15-20 assorted colors and symbols being used sometimes one after the other. And I had an exceptionally long way to go. So, I decided what the best approach was and turned on the documentaries.
I’ve only shown a couple of people during the progress. I wanted it to be a surprise for everyone who saw it. I would hold it about five feet away so that I could try looking at the shading and definition. I must admit that after about ¼ of the way through I was thinking to myself, “this thing is going to be a disaster.” I kept looking at the full picture on the side of the fabric thinking, “this makes no sense.” Frustrated, I stayed to my plan and tried not to judge. But, rather, I stayed consistent.
Again, I re-evaluated at the end of the day or night. After a couple of days of work, I looked at it again. And it was finally taking shape. At that very moment, I said, “this is going to be epic!” I began noticing a great sadness come over me. And it took me a day or two of sitting with and deciphering what it all meant. The tears began flowing and before long I began understanding my biggest issue. I began sobbing as though I were a child. I pinpointed what I felt was an overwhelming since of despair. I soon realized that it was “the fear of abandonment.” This time it hurt more than I had experienced in quite a long time.
**It’s the glare of the light reflecting.**
When you deal with the effects of a trauma filled life your mind begins, at some point, it begins to purge itself. And it’s usually at the most inopportune times. Tink and Coco always walk in circles and begin meowing when I cry. And while one is always rubbing up against me, the other is pawing at me. I put my diamond tools to the side, and I took a few minutes just to try and figure out what was going on. I begin saying, “why do I always feel alone?” The sweetest and most loving voice speaks, “Look at what’s directly in front of you.” I looked up to see my brown, wooden cabinet with my scrapbooks in it. And, of course, cat tunnels. The level of compassion that I experienced I had never felt before. I love my coach dearly. And she is one of most compassionate people I’ve ever met. This was almost other worldly. And I’ll admit that it scared me initially. I even searched my head mates and asked, “Which one of you said that?” It was not a voice that I recognized. They all just looked at each other and said nothing. I began getting angry because it felt like a joke gone bad. And when you get rebellious teenagers together and they’re silent, it’s remarkably like when a toddler leaves the room and becomes silent. For safety reasons you must go check things out.
Again, I said, “I’m all alone, no matter how many people me are around! Now leave me alone!” The voice said one more time, “look directly in front of you.” I start looking around. And then I saw what the voice was telling me. The diamond painting that I was working on was a picture of Jesus holding onto the cross bloody and beaten after the scourging seen from the movie “The Passion of the Christ.” That was what I had custom made. I was speechless. I had a sense of relaxation that I have never felt. The voice said, “I never left you. And you were worth it.”
I’m still in shock about what I experienced. I felt a sense of safety that through abuse you don’t feel. I’m not a big religious person. I have been on all sides of it. And in many of my experiences with religion have been used as a weapon. But what I felt was not “religion. It was love.
“Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” Hebrews 13:5 (KJV)
“Hate is the complement of fear and narcissists like being feared.
It imbues them with an intoxicating sensation of omnipotence.”
― Sam Vaknin, Malignant Self-Love: Narcissism Revisited
The term “Responsible” has never been a word that most people use to describe me especially in my teen years. There are those teens who are very responsible driving, their studies and extracurricular activities. I personally got caught up in the comedy of the situation from start to finish even if it was actually more dangerous than funny. As a teenager when my well thought out teen ideas would emerge like going to bonfire parties with fellow classmates and upper classmen and seeing how many times and how much we can throw up in one night without dying; or driving like a bat out of hell with gasoline panties on down what was known as “Thrill Hill” outside the Petal, MS city limits at speeds where those that drove down it should’ve all met our demise; or and this is the best one…..we as a softball “team” on the eve of a “hot as crotch” practice we thought it would be a great idea to get drunk as a team would help with team unity. Guess who DID NOT buy that explanation? Nope…as I recall the next day we ran, and ran and ran and ran until your hangover was gone or there was no more puke left to let loose. I, for one, never drank the night before a practice EVER again. I’m usually the one cheering on such outrageous ideas and had already begun planning jail commissary meals made with Ramen Noodles as somewhat of a “celebratory being handcuffed” gesture if needed. Guilty your honor!!!!!!
The thought of coming in contact and being held emotionally hostage for the next 14 years never crossed my mind. My main goals, at the time, was to stay as high as I could and not eat. Both somehow seemed to soothe my heart from my 8th grade disaster only a couple of years prior. But now we as a student body and a community had been gut punched by the disappearance and alleged murder of our classmate Angela Freeman. As I’ve mentioned before our graduating high school class and subsequent classes were pummeled with tragedies. I felt like the combination of school and home where death and illnesses were always imminent in my daddy’s large family. We just never got to recover from one thing before something else happened. I was beyond mood swings. I was like a mood theme park. I just remember feeling different, alone and trapped. Obviously, my theory about being able to do WHATEVER I wanted to do, as an adult, also had some flaws waiting for their time to appear.
When I jumped full body into adulthood before my time that’s when I understood “keeping secrets” at the fullest. I literally was taught so many lessons about life, at that time, that I couldn’t sit back to study and understand them. I was busy learning all about malignant narcissism without knowing the full meaning. And since this was prior to when I decided to go back to college, I also thought that domestic violence was all about physical abuse. I was busy surviving and not really knowing what that meant either. I knew that I never saw or heard things between my parents like I heard every moment of every day with him. Heck, I just thought this was the reason people were so miserable being married. I thought this was just the way things were suppose to be. Oh how my immaturity and naivety was drunk driving my way down the highway of life at that time. I still look back in total astonishment at how I made it through the early days of abuse.
In the late 80s and early 90s, abuse against children and how it would affect their ability to function as an adult was not known or seen as important. And the ability to go to therapy was more of a luxury item rather than one of necessity. Affordability was practically nil to many children and families. I would also be willing to bet that there were no mental health benefits on an insurance policy either. So, for me and other children and teens that needed the help early on would not and could not be provided with the help we so desperately needed.
“Stay away from lazy parasites, who perch on you just to satisfy
their needs, they do not come to alleviate your burdens, hence,
their mission is to distract, detract and extract,
and make you live in abject poverty.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson
I’ve been told many times that the teacher that abused me was treated the same way by her father. My ex-husband and his brother were horribly physically and emotionally abused by their father. The excuse that has always been given when I asked him about the abuse was justified by him saying, “We might’ve been scared of him but we weren’t out running the streets getting drunk or high either.” I could also see very clearly how the abuse had affected him and how he still feared his father each time we went to visit him. I was told what I could and could not say or do around his father. And I always found it strange that he and his brother called his father by his first name rather than “father” or “daddy.” The clearest point of view I saw about the abuse they went through was by how I was treated by them. Both of the grown little abused boys over the years had also become their father. These 3 people that I’m talking about were not “crazy” they were and still are just mean. And to my knowledge have never had a day of therapy in their lives. What they did do successfully was to perpetuate onto me and other people just like it was done to them. And they go through life never having faced their on responsibility in acknowledging how the abuse affects and continues to hurt people through their aberrant, coercive aggressive, threatening and other overt and covert behaviors. This works down their intended target until the individual believes their lies as though it was part of the gospel. And then ANYTHING that goes wrong is their victim’s fault no matter what. Every weekend the ex-husband would go play golf as his favorite pastime. I use to pray hoping that he played well. If not, somehow it was my fault that he didn’t play well. People have asked me many times why I didn’t leave sooner. The problem lies once they get you mentally to believe all of the lies that they tell you it rewires your brain and you wake up one day and everything you use to believe about yourself and the world has now become what they think and believe about the world. Your beliefs were stupid and you were too dumb to have your own belief system anyway. Therefore, we cling to that relationship with everything we have because being without them would mean total annihilation for us or so we believe.
Here’s the whole point of this particular blog. These people and their behaviors are characteristic of transgenerational trauma in both families. However, they have all chosen to pass this abuse on and do nothing about it. With the traumatic life that I’ve lived, I have chosen to do some very emotionally painful therapy in order to stop the cycle of abuse since my abusers didn’t have the guts to do their own work. They might can make it continue wherever they are now. In my family, though, the cycle of abuse ends right here. I have been carrying the abuse of the boys that molested me. I have been carrying the abuse of my ex-husband and brother from their father. And I have been carrying the abuse of the teacher that always has a “I just caught the stomach virus” look to greet you with. Plus, I have been carrying trauma and abuse unrelated to them and that’s my own stuff. Your baggage that I’ve carried for you for so many years will be waiting for you at the nearest dumpster where it belongs. Ya’ll have had control of my past and present but the future is MINE.
I can’t even begin to fathom our children having the same fears that I had as a child, teen and adult. And I would run in to rescue my sweet Mel if I saw any signs of this and that’s exactly what I’ve done. Moving to Texas is exactly how I was able to rescue them thus far from the abuse. I looked up one day and I was saying some of the exact same hateful stuff that my ex-husband said to me. I have 3 people desperately wanting their other mommy and spouse to be able to come back together and to function as the family and couple like we set out to be. And for that I AM RESPONSIBLE. The one who was “too stupid to think for herself” was taking very detailed notes those years with you. And once you study a system and the way it works you can also find the flaws in the system. The night I got up and walked out I had just beaten the “ALMIGHTY NARCISSIST” at this own game.
“How starved you must have been that my heart became a meal for your ego.”
“The predator wants your silence. It feeds their power,
entitlement, and they want it to feed your shame.”
—Viola Davis
When I first begin getting to know someone, the very first thing I look for is their level of snitch. What do I mean by this? Snitching is when you tell on someone to get yourself out of trouble. Another word for a snitch is a tattletale. To be labeled as a snitch socially is to be ostracized. In other circles being labeled as a snitch can get you killed. And snitching is a predator’s greatest enemy because that exposes secrets.
As a small child the term snitching wasn’t used yet. I did know what the term tattletale meant. And what hurting my friend’s feelings and damaging a relationship because of telling secrets meant. It meant people would be mad at me and I would have no friends. Even teachers at daycares can get tired of all the tattling. Step inside any daycare and you’re liable to hear, “The next child that tattles doesn’t go outside and play.” These are two dichotomous examples of telling information. My question to think about is are we teaching our kids the best and safest message? There are always exceptions to the rule. By the time these children are teens there’s an unwritten “code of conduct” around telling information whether it be relevant or not that might save lives. This will also get someone labeled as a snitch.
I can expand more about teens later, however, for the sake of this blog post I’m going to refer to myself as a young child. My first lesson in keeping secrets that should’ve been told was around 5 years-old. I was molested many times by my neighbor’s youngest and middle sons. These boys were around 13-15 years old and old enough to know better. The way I was held emotionally hostage was through threats like “the police would come and I would have my parents taken away.” I was also told, “that I would make people mad and no one would want to be my friend. And it would be all my fault.”
This little girl named Dana would do everything possible to make sure both she and her family was safe. From a child’s point of view, I hung on to every scary word spoken. And afterwards they would tell me how beautiful I was. The searing pain that would burn my body would leave an imprint on my psyche even today. The pain and fear would start and I would leave somewhere in my mind where pain was not felt. Still to this day, I’m very confused in just about every way in regards to having been molested.
People that seek power over other people instill in their victims that telling about abuse is a sign of weakness. As a teenager, anytime I told or tried to tell about the abuse to the school administration this information would get back to the teacher making the abuse worse. The message I got from doing that was to “forget asking for help and save yourself.” After the abuse of my 8th grade year, I vowed that as long as I was around to witness someone needing defending or help I would step in and protect in whatever way that I could. This has bought me unnecessary trouble with coaches and friends but to me it was worth it. I could then lay my head on my pillow at night and sleep.
One night after Mel and I had been speaking to a class at the college, A mother from that class asked me where I went to middle school. I told her Petal Middle School and she asked about the teacher that was so abusive. Because her 8th grade son would come home from school every afternoon with tears in his eyes due to being called names in front of his classmates by a teacher. She told me the teacher she was speaking about and after my heart dropped into my stomach I said, “Unfortunately, ma’am that is who I was speaking about.” She asked, “What should I do?” I told her, “Tell someone and get your child in counseling like yesterday.” I don’t know whatever happened to that mother and her child’s situation. The information I shared with her helped she and her son? However, a big load of shame and guilt was dumped on me as penance for that child and any other children after me that I kept the secret about the abuse ,consequently, leaving the predator unscathed and in the driver’s seat to handpick her next teen victim with ease.
The small little southern city with air tight politics and a nose for people’s business other than their own was to my detriment that year. I was told many years later by one of the administrators that worked there my middle school years information that still burns my ears. I was told, “You were a child at that time and I couldn’t say anything especially due to the politics. But I can tell you now that she should’ve never been around children.” The disappointment must’ve been written all over my face when she saw how perplexed I was. She said, “Is there something I can try to clear up for you?” I stood there for a moment not knowing what to say but burning with questions. “Yes ma’am. I do have a question…..So you all knew she was abusive and shouldn’t have been around children and you let her teach anyway?!” “I was her verbal punching bag and her abuse has affected my education, my career, my relationship with my wife and children, my relationships with others and above all the relationship and image of how I view myself as a human being!” I was mad but I couldn’t stop then tears. She hugged me as we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.
When I went to my own vehicle and unlocked the doors, I sat down and shook my head and said, “They knew the whole time and didn’t try to stop her. Didn’t they know how badly it all hurt? Did they even care? Yes, I fought every way possible to make it through that year in school that still shows its ugly scarring. No matter what adult I tried to tell that year I got no help from the abuse. And “snitching” never did me any favors. Had someone look past the labels and protected me from the backlash of telling the truth about the abuse my life could and maybe even would be much different now. That one year of school affected a few other teenagers in ways that are still damaging to them. The most visible are the scars that line the forearms of those teens with 30 years of thick scarring from the one thing that would listen to us all then…..razors. I also had the experience of eating disorders (anorexia, bulimia), alcoholism, drug addiction that were all there with their arms wide open to help shield me from the unwanted torture of abuse.
The “Code of Silence” protected by perpetrators in a way that I had no defense. And as a very young bride, I would face abuse again for the next 14 years. That “Code of Silence” that was used as an intimidation factor all those years worked. It kept me silent and the perpetrators innocent. I go to bed scared every night and the first emotion I have in the morning is fear. This shame based silence that seen as normal or acceptable is very hurtful. Maybe protecting offenders because of “snitching” isn’t the problem. And maybe listening and helping to protect children and teens when they tell should be handled first instead of politics and reputations.
“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.
Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.
“I think the most important thing about coaching is that you have to have a sense of confidence about what you’re doing. You have to be a salesman and you have to get your players, particularly your leaders, to believe in what you’re trying to accomplish.”
–Phil Jackson, Basketball
In my years of playing sports, I was fortunate to have many different coaches each with their own unique styles of coaching. I never had one coach that didn’t know how to effectively motivate me. Their styles of coaching, however, were as individual to them as I was as an athlete. When most players “age out” of a league inevitably a coaching change would also occur. Luckily, I was able to keep the same coach for the majority of our summer softball league through high school. Playing varsity sports, however, came with new coaches and a new level of maturity as a ball player.
Anytime a player, for whatever reason changes coaches, that event becomes a brand new period of adjustment. You have to develop the confidence and trust in the new coach just like the new coach has to develop the confidence in you as a player. You both go through similar phases at individual speeds. As a player, you watch your coach to see if his/her actions are congruent with the words they speak. You watch to see if your coach’s words are truth or just empty promises that are spoken out of convenience. Likewise, the coach watches behaviors of their players both on and off the field. They watch to see how individually motivated you are to play and to be a “team” player depending on the sport. They also want to see if you’re going to put forth 110% effort or just try to skate by half-assed. They look to see if you’re loyal to the sport and your individual game. Having an “off day” isn’t the same thing as few players perform perfectly all the time. How you recover and are motivated from an “off day” is what differentiates the good players from the great players who develop into champions. Through these observations you both have to decide if the person before you has the potential to be a part of a winning team. They also watch to see to what extent team unity has been developed. This is also when the coach sees if the “team” or individual is in need of some type of remedial work sometimes starting again with simply fundamentals.
In the game of my life things are incredibly similar. “Coach” and I have gone through an adjustment period with not all of it “fun” but necessary. She agreed to take this player on without having much information about the extent of prior coaching and essentially with an “AS IS” label among many others. She would use her gentle force of discipline to teach this hardheaded player HER way of playing. First, though, she had to determine at what level of functioning this player was performing. She determined that a previous coach a few years ago was quite damaging and was too controlling to develop the trust with this player. It damaged the player almost for good and didn’t allow for growth of anything but resentment for future coaches and the hurt and pain that wouldn’t leave anytime soon. Despite the rough shape of her new recruit, coach has seen worth where some others have not because this coach refuses to put down a horse for having a broken heart. She knows that what this player needs is to start back with the fundamentals which include love, compassion and above all…..TRUST.
Coach knew that this player was hurt deeply but with time, patience, consistency and a relationship lacking in judgment this player might just begin to melt and the potential that waits in the shadows might one day be achieved just like she had envisioned. Coach also knew that this process would be a marathon not a sprint and that both parties would have to be willing to believe that the process could work. After all, a win is still a win even if it’s not done gracefully. The biggest statistic that this player carries in her portfolio is that 199 times she has fallen and 200 times she has gotten back up. This player couldn’t and still can’t even begin to imagine the potential but coach can and that’s all that matters, as long as, this player is coachable.
Practice after practice and with trust building on both sides coach began to see what she had initially envisioned for this player. This player has shown that she works hard for every play and gives her all in practice because she hungers to be a champion again despite what she has been told and the already failed expectations of others that has left her with a broken spirit. Coach saw that this player had aggression that needed to be tamed but would never hurt her again like some previous coaches did with invalidation. Coach knows that on the other side of this untamed aggression and with additional love and consistent discipline is an incredibly loyal champion waiting to emerge. How does coach know this? Because she can see that covered by a sometimes nasty shield of aggression is the heart of a champion that is currently keeping her player alive.
Today begins the ball season that this player has been practicing endlessly for even when coach hasn’t been watching. These “opponents” who are unnamed are those “teams” that left this player for many years scared, hurting and dysfunctional despite her best efforts. This player is finally entrusting of her coach to stand side-by-side and to play against these opponents as she has been guided and will continue to do so until victory is achieved. The battle wounds will be plentiful and falling down will inevitably happen as this is part of being an athlete. But she’s determined to win or die trying.
She is told who her first opponent will be and she begins to shake with fear. Her coach gently reassures her that her ability is there but that she is the only one who can execute for she is the player and that is her job. Coaches teach and guide. Ambivalence rolls down her cheeks for fear of yet another failure and this player takes the field to lead her team, as the team captain, like she has practiced many times. But not without turning to look back to make sure her coach is still there as promised just one more time. Standing there is her coach in the shape of that familiar and long sought after diamond. And once again this player has the confidence to show her trustworthy coach that she is indeed coachable.
Coach nods with one more sign of encouragement and hollers…..PLAY BALL!!!!
“Coachable people seek out those who speak truth to them, even if it is a painful truth, because it protects them and it makes them a better person and leader.”
― Gary Rohrmayer
“You save yourself or you remain unsaved.”
― Alice Sebol
Sometimes the simplest situations become a real struggle for me. The fear that developed many years ago is the fear of being touched. I’m not talking about just getting butterflies. My fear totally encapsulates everything about me. This makes it incredibly difficult to go to see doctors no matter the reason. I’ve been living with herniated disc issues with nerve impingement. It should just be a simple thing to go to a doctor and follow their advised regimen. For me….It’s like being put in a tub of boiling water and saying, “Be Still!”
This has to be one of the most frustrating areas of my life. I tend to stay in unneeded pain because of this intense fear. I luckily got an appointment same day I called to meet with someone about my back. When I hung up the phone from making the appointment I just started crying. The fear blankets me and the panic ensues. Knowing that I’m about to be touched by someone in a position of power and dominance is more than I can tolerate. I don’t think doctors even consider how it must feel for people who have been traumatized to be touched. There are a very small group of people that I will let hug me. And family don’t get a free pass just because they’re family. There is not one moment I like because socially it’s very embarrassing. Sitting before you is a woman who is very tense and has a smartass tone in her voice and comments. When you walk towards her she drops her head in shame only for her tears to begin dropping.
What the doctor now sees in an “immature” adult who is just being “childish.” Before I left Albuquerque, I got a respiratory infection that required antibiotics. This meant that I absolutely HAD to be seen by a doctor. This was not one of those ailments that I could stay at home and manage. I went to one of the local Urgent Care centers once again attempting to face my fears. The nurse calls me back and, of course, heads directly to the scales to be weighed. I politely tell her that I have eating disorders and that weighing makes me incredibly uncomfortable. She says, “Ok whatever. You don’t have to stay on their long. But hurry because I just pushed the button to zero out the scales.” As if the gates of hell just opened and said, “Welcome…” I quickly snap back and say, “yea I’ve had experience on scales all of my life. I would hate to inconvenience you by making you push a button again.” I completely understand that eating disorders are not something that people are typically versed in. However, the medical community I expected, at the very least, some compassion about the situation. And well…empty yet again.
Already edgy and completely irritated that my feelings were totally disregarded and invalidated, I sat up on the exam table completely embarrassed and humiliated. The hairs on the back of my neck were raised like I was about to be examined by Satan himself. The doctor soon walks in and says that she wants to listen to my chest. Not a big deal until you see that little internal child that sees another scary and painful situation where someone much bigger than you is about to touch you. It doesn’t matter what their intentions are at this point. My fierce protector began her warm up with the nurse and is waiting to pounce in protection of this child.
The closer the doctor gets the more I begin to shake uncontrollably in fear. I begin sobbing at the first step. The doctor replies quickly without one ounce of compassion, “What is this childish reaction? You’re being ridiculous.” I reply, “Ma’am I have been molested and raped during my life and being touched is very scary no matter the reason.” She says, “Well this reaction is just ridiculous. You are an adult and shouldn’t be acting like a toddler!” I said, “Ma’am why don’t you just give me some damn medicine so we can be out of each other’s life. You’re stomping on that one damn nerve that I had left before I even walked in here. You have a personality like a bag full of badgers and you have the compassion of a pit viper! Medical school has you guys so scared of transference that you’re practically dead from the neck up.”
What the doctor didn’t know was that I had gotten so scared that I peed in my pants. I left as soon as possible with tears still in my eyes and wet pants. I thought to myself, “Why did I even try again? This is why I don’t go see doctors. They don’t care and don’t listen.” Examples I can list for days about my interactions with doctors. Yearly pap smears, mammograms and whatever that needs to be checked have not been done in several years. Even with Mel going with me as added support it’s like dropping me right back into the situations that scared me to begin with. I can’t stay grounded and switching happens in fast forward depending on the type of doctor.
We have both spoken with doctors and asked if I could be sedated to have cancer screenings done. There answer’s always, “well we might could do some Xanax.” Mel’s reply is always, “not unless you want her to catch a charge. That medicine makes her very aggressive and well…she doesn’t need any help in that area.” They always reply, “I’m sorry there’s nothing that can be done.” Of course I have my own questions in return. I usually say, “Ok let me get this straight….so in the year 2017 we have dentists who can sedate because of adults and children with severe fears and anxieties about their visit. But for sexual assault survivors who fear being touched there’s nothing that can be done to simply help with cancer screenings? Doctor do you see how that rationale is about the dumbest I’ve ever heard of?” I’ve been told before, “well maybe you should see a therapist.” My smartass reply, “Oh well thanks for the advice. I never considered seeing a therapist to make things better. When do you think I should make an appointment? And by the way….I told you all of that at the beginning of this visit. Maybe active listening skills should be something you work on while I’m in therapy.”
What just happened was that I was highly triggered before I ever entered the office. But the visit turned out to be that I was touched and not heard. And well, that makes the visit counterproductive for us both. It really just hammers home the idea that my feelings don’t matter and they are touching me anyway, no matter the reason. Sounds a lot like what my perpetrators did. The only difference seemed to be that this touch simply came from someone in a white coat who was trying to help me.
Have you ever noticed how we as a society ask people how they’re doing but we don’t really want to know how anyone but ourselves and immediate family are doing? The reason is that we aren’t prepared to hear how someone is actually doing. We often don’t know how to respond and makes for a very uncomfortable social situation. In regards to medical professionals, some type of education needs to be taught about the long term effects of abuse on children and adults. Shaming patients is so damaging. Even saying, “This won’t hurt a bit” is a mute point.
I want and need my medical issues to be addressed desperately. But repeats of this situation keep me away because of the extreme embarrassment and shaming that typically occurs, maybe even innocently, at the hands of someone in a “one up” position. When this happens I don’t see a doctor. I see those same hands that caused the initial fear coming for me again.
For those that think abuse have no long term effects…..THINK AGAIN.
This Puzzled Life 