Learning to be Free - a guided journal for survivors of trauma
For part 1 please visit this : Learning to be Free - a guided journal part 1
For part 2 please visit this : Learning to be Free - a guided journal part 2
For part 3 please visit this : Learning to be Free - a guided journal part 3
LETTERS
(Take what you want from this, use it to prompt you in writing in your journal. Remember, to let it flow and don't worry about mistakes, typos or how it sounds)
For the following exercises you may want to write them out on a separate piece of paper or directly in your journal. These are letters that are not ever meant to be delivered, they are communications you are doing towards your growth in flying free.
In this series we focused quite a bit on emotions, feeling them as we identified them. As stated previously, emotions are nothing more than the guideposts in your life. That is it. They do not control you. It is like driving past a street sign. You make the decision to either follow it or not. You decide if you're driving with too many distractions to pay attention to a warning sign. And, you decide whether or not to take heed to a sign, guiding you to the path ahead. You are in the driver's seat. Healing is giving you the tools to take back control of your actions - and to understand why sometimes you may slip. It doesn't mean life will be perfect, that there will be no more drama, no more bad days, it means you can make active decisions rather than letting life live you.
Healing from trauma has less to do with expressing the details of abuse, it is more about learning who you are and respecting your path- the good and the bad. It is about recognizing your strengths and working on your vulnerabilities. It is about living your truth and tossing away the mask of inauthenticity and becoming comfortable in your own skin.
The next step I will guide you through giving back the shame, letting it go so you can make room for living the life you so deserve.
My abusers - the men who took advantage of a young innocent girl. I carried their shame and their secrets for too long and I needed to rid myself of pain that comes with carrying someone else's crime.
They, to my knowledge, never saw my words. I did publish it here in my blog. For me it didn't matter if they saw it. I didn't do it for them, I did it for me - for that once little girl I thought had been lost the moment their hands touched my body. That little girl was never lost, she was and has always been in me, hiding and waiting to have a voice - needing to be validated, respected.
Dear Monsters -
You filled my life with memories I will never be able to erase. I was once a happy carefree little girl. The world around me was shiny and bright and then you entered my life, making my childhood a dark place where monsters lurked around every turn. Because of you I felt like a freak of nature.
I was just five years old the first time one of you laid your hands on me. My stomach still churns at the thought. You set me on the path of being victimized. You took the light hearted ways I had and turned a smile into a frown.
Then just a few years later another monster entered my life. Again, you were a neighbor. I will never forget being fearful every time I left my house to go play or when I was alone at home, ill - if that doorbell rang how my heart sank. I can remember crawling down the long hallway in my apartment and hiding in the closet until I thought you had left.
How dare you - I was just 8 years old. I was so ill. In and out of hospitals, that alone, was too much for a little girl to handle but then I was also carrying your shame. I didn't even know there was a word for what you had done to me but I knew it was something not to be discussed. The only place I ever felt safe was in my bedroom, with my door tightly shut.
I will never forget that one night when I was gravely ill and my parents rushed me to the hospital. That memory is stored forever in my head. There you were, acting like the hero neighbor - offering to carry me down the three flights of stairs while my father went and pulled the car around to the front of the building. I was so sick and scared - but when you carried me down those stairs I thought a piece inside of me died - died because I couldn't say - speak the truths that had happened..all those times you cornered me in the laundry room where I kept my bike. You used your dogs to lure me - groom me. I know that now but didn't know that then. I just liked animals. No, I couldn't scream out my truth. I had to be silent as you carried me down those stairs with my mother following to my waiting father. They didn't know you were a monster. My father respected you...he respected your service to our country. He respected the fact you were a Vietnam vet. He had no clue of your twisted mind. He never knew.
Then there's the other Monster. You too were trusted by our family as you were family by marriage. I was just 9 years old and to this day I cannot stand the smell of wet leather. I remember that night when I was sleeping in your home and you came home smelling of alcohol. It was a stormy night and your boots were leather -wet and I can still smell them. You know what you did. I know what you did. You're vile.
All of you -monsters. I hope that Karma has bitten you threefold. I hope your lives have been a hell on Earth. For decades I searched for the little girl I once knew. I thought you stole her away - her childhood.
Yes, all of you had a part in creating the person I am today. I had to go through years of self-hate because of you - can you imagine what it is like to be a child and want to die? Want to die because of the actions of others? Somehow I survived all that pain. All those years. Somehow I did. And now, I use what you did to me to help others. It is the only thing that keeps those memories from consuming me alive.
I hope to God there have been days of clarity for you all. Days where guilt actually entered your twisted brains. I hope the shame you felt immobilized you. I pray that there haven't been other victims of your vile actions, but common sense tells me there have been. I was just one of many. That thought sickens me. I am not a violent person, but I can say there have been many times I envisioned you dying a painful death. I can only imagine all the pain you are due. May God have mercy on your soul, I don't.
After writing that letter I felt I owed it to myself to write a letter to that little girl I once was. She grew up holding on to those secrets while also living in a dysfunctional family. There was alcoholism, emotional neglect, and more.
She grew up like so many of us have, being told what happens behind closed doors, stays there. She learned to walk life with the mask of everything is fine. She learned to put herself last. And, more importantly, she learned that her emotions did not matter. She found out rather quickly the more she pretended that everything was okay the more likely she wouldn't become a target of verbal abuse. Yes, my childhood came with the building blocks of shame and silence, all of which propelled me into adult relationships where there would be more of the same.
Yes, I owed it to her to make amends. I owed it to myself to apologize and forgive myself. This is how I earned my wings towards freedom.
To that little girl,
I am sorry. I am sorry I lost touch with you all those years. You should carry no blame...no shame. The memory of you lives on and does good in this world. That is how I honor what you have endured. Your voice now speaks.
I know that doesn't take away the pain nor the memories.
All you ever wanted was a happy family and to be a mother. Well, you've succeeded. All the things you longed for, the boys receive. They know what love is and what it feels like to be nurtured- It is because of you I was able to provide them with a childhood of wonderment even though they too had to live through something no child should.
You kept me strong during those days - strong in a way I cannot explain. A child-like resiliency set the foundation so that I could be a loving mother to my children and provide to them what they needed to grow into fine young adults. Thank you.
You are me.
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Do you think you are ready for this step towards healing and forgiving yourself? If not, why?
If you do write your letters what outcome are you expecting from the effort?
Will you keep the letters or maybe rip them up?
If you do not feel you can do it now, will you try in the future?
Remember that these letters do not need to be sent. You don't even need to tell anyone that you did it. The simple act of getting out all those frustrations and emotions can be incredibly healing. You can start it one day and come back to it later. As you progress in your healing, you can write more letters. There is no one way to do it. This is your healing journey and it should be unique to you. Healing doesn't happen overnight, actually, I truly believe it is a life long path especially considering that as we age we gain more wisdom. We learn more about ourselves. The key to healing is being open to the lessons we are to learn.
For me there are times that current events in the news trigger a need to write and then times when I am alone with my thoughts having those lovely conversations survivors have in their heads when no one is paying attention.
I can honestly say that for me writing in this blog has been the most healing thing I have ever done. Granted, being so open and in the public's eye is not for everyone. For my situation it was the perfect fit. I showed that I was not perfect and that I make mistakes, from major ones to little typos for all eyes to see. I learned through it all that the people who truly matter and care about me did not judge me for being human, perfectly flawed. Through that I learned how to love myself, flaws and all.
I do hope that this has given you some tips on how to open up and let go of all those chains being a victim of abuse can lock us in place - never, really, being able to move forward. Remember, the memories of trauma are just your mind expressing your path, they can no longer harm you - it is your fear and inability to respect your path, that has. You're not alone - there, unfortunately, are many of us out here. When you start to open up and let the pain out in a healthy manner, you will not only help yourself, your authenticity will guide others to do the same. That is the domino effect of empowerment from survivor to survivor
Be well!
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Last year and when I wasn't doing to well healthwise I placed all of this in a book- a guided journal and self published it. I struggled with that. My struggle had numerous layers. I had a lot going on in my life, still do and I needed to follow through on a promise I made to myself. I didn't give myself permission to be human and take my time and edit it properly. Additionally, it nagged at me that the people I feel who could use this type of guidance the most, often barely have the funds to put dinner on the table as they struggle to keep a roof over their head. Like I once was and when I had no one to turn to for help.
It was never about having my name as an author on a book. I am a former reporter who has 1000's of published articles with my by-line -it really is not as big of a deal as people think. And, it was definitely never about popularity or riches. As one who writes from the heart, like most artists, our bank account is rarely a consideration for why we do what we do.
During that time I had a lot of influences around me, some not so positive and recovering from surgery, on medications, my thought process was muddied.
I am still not in the best health - but, I am clear headed. That is the reason I decided rather than promoting something for financial gain and popularity is just not for me. I am in hopes that if this all does help you, you pass it on and definitely pass on the lessons you learned. My only true goal is reaching in to help you see your core, that trauma --- that child that once was, and still resides in you, needing love. Helping you see your worth, your value, your wisdom...your beauty. I truly believe the more we can reach and help get on the journey of healing, the more likely we have a real chance at breaking the cycles of abuse and trauma....and, one day, because of ALL of our work, no five year old little girl will ever know the horror of child sexual assault. No child will bleed as the direct result of the gaping wounds of the adults who surround them. Love should never have a price tag.
That is why I am offering this all to you - I want you to share and the only cost involved will be the hard work You do for yourself.
For those of you who want to, buy me a cup of coffee....I go through quite a bit and for those of you who are unable to, just focus on yourself and let me know if any of this has helped you - that is reward enough for me.
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Thankfully Chewed Up and Spat Back Out
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