The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse - First Call for Submissions

Yay! We're having another edition of The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse! I am excited to guest host the February 6th publication!

The Submission Deadline for the up-coming issue is Wednesday, February 4th. Although each edition usually has a specific theme, I thought I would skip the use of a theme for this edition and ask that bloggers in the survivor community submit a post that is relevant to him or her at this point in time. You can choose a post that you already have on your blog, or write a new post for your blog to submit to this edition. Your post should fit into one of the following six categories:

• Survivor Stories
• Poetry
• In the News
• Healing and Therapy
• Aftermath
• Advocacy and Awareness

Please click here to submit an entry.

You don't have to be a survivor to submit a post. If you are a friend, or the loved one of a survivor, please tell us how their recovery has affected you.

If you are unfamiliar with The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse, you can check out the December 19th Holiday Edition at Survivors Can Thrive.

Blog Carnivals are publications centered on a specific topic (in this case - child abuse awareness). A community of bloggers band together to submit blog posts relevant to that particular topic. The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse was founded by Marj aka Thriver for the purpose of raising awareness about all forms of child abuse, including physical, emotional, sexual, spiritual, and verbal abuse.

Whether you have submitted before, or you are new to The Carnival, we would love to hear from you.

Hopefully, we'll have a great turn-out so we can help Marj keep The Carnival alive for the survivor community!

Many thanks to Marj for founding The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse!

Dealing with Dissociation

A fellow survivor recently asked me how I dealt with my dissociation. I thought I would share my answer here. Of course, this is just an outline for a very complicated process:

It took a number of years for me to get a handle on my dissociation. The first step was to simply become aware that I dissociated.

Because I had dissociated since I was a child, the emotional disconnect felt so normal to me that I didn't even know that I experienced "altered states" until a therapist pointed it out to me.

After my counselor helped me identify times when I dissociated, I learned that it had a certain recognizable "quality," just like a dream has a familiar feel to it.

The clinical definition of dissociation is a disturbance or alteration in the normally integrative functions of identity, memory, or consciousness. In children, this may occur following physical abuse or trauma.

Most abuse survivors I have talked to have said that they have trouble "feeling," or that they have become "numb." Dissociation can manifest itself to many different degrees and in many different fashions; therefore, it can simply mean an inability to "feel." For me, when the pain became "too much," I became "trance like." My gaze became transfixed to one unknown spot and I disconnected from my feelings and surroundings. I could hear what was going on around me, but I couldn't "respond" to words, noises, or actions, because my emotional self "disappeared."

When I was a child, dissociation "saved my life." It was my survival tactic. If I had to feel that which was unbearable and unending, I would have most likely gone insane. Dissociation protected my sanity at a time when I had no one to help me.

Long after I grew up, I learned that the very mechanism that saved me as a child, harmed me as an adult. I couldn't protect myself when I was young, but I could and should as an adult.

I often stayed in "harmful" situations because I unknowingly dissociated rather than reacting to pain and safe-guarding my own well-being. If we listen closely, pain is a useful resource for protecting ourselves.

Once I realized that I did indeed dissociate, that the "emotional absences" were harmful to me, and that they prevented me from healing, I made a concerted effort to "re-wire" my responses. This of course takes a great deal of time.

Whenever I felt the "quality" that comes with dissociation, I began to "pull" myself out. I shifted my eyes away from that far off "blank stare," and forced myself to remain present with my surroundings. If I was with someone safe, that meant saying, "I'm struggling with keeping myself present and not dissociating."

If I was not with someone safe, that meant leaving or re-directing myself by whatever means necessary to "stay present." I'd also like to note that my symptoms of dissociation and PTSD often overlapped as I was trying to deal with my childhood abuse.

Learning to recognize and prevent these "trances" consistently took a very long time. In this way, I learned to redirected myself from dissociating, and stay present with what was happening, but I didn't yet learn to "hold" my own feelings.

It took a great deal of therapy to create an environment safe enough to "hold" my feelings and to resolve them with self-compassion and love. At first, I was so out of my comfort zone, I felt like I was feeling my away around in the dark. I kept asking my therapist, "Is it normal to feel this way?" I had no frame of reference.

Just like with any healing, we don't just turn on a switch and suddenly "feel" everything. It would be too much. Our psyche can only take on so much pain at once and our minds guide us through the process in baby steps as we are ready to take on more feelings. (See "What? I Can Feel This?")

Sometimes, it felt like I would never get to the other side, but I did, and it feels more rewarding than I ever thought possible.

Merry Christmas!

To all those contending with the turmoil surrounding an abusive family of origin and to those dealing with the pain of family estrangement, my thoughts and prayers are with you all this holiday season.

Warmest Wishes,
Nancy

On Child Abuse, Family Estrangement, and on Writing for Ourselves and for Others - Part Four

I've been writing about topics of abuse, premature forgiveness, estrangement, and reconciliation repetitively and with great regularity for more than a decade and a half. In doing so, my thoughts on these subjects have remained central to my life, and have constantly evolved. I have shared this evolution in my books, articles, private message boards, e-mails, letters, and on this blog.

During the years that my abuse and estrangement recovery were a part of my daily life, I had much to write about. I have enjoyed the opportunity to provide survivors a glimmer of hope. Now that abuse and estrangement are more of a distant memory than a present reality, I find that I'm running out of things to say. I no longer have the regular "triggers" that provide new aspects to write about. As a survivor, that is good news!

I admire the many bloggers who share their recovery as it happens; when they are still raw and reeling with authentic emotions. They offer a glimpse into the process as it happens. Mine are reflections on how it was then. Over the past year, I have searched my mind to recall the different aspects of my recovery that were particularly difficult and to write a post on how I dealt with my struggle to overcome my pain.

I've been wrestling for the last few months with what it means at this point in my life to be a survivor. I feel tugged in two directions; a kinship and a desire to help those on the journey for which I have much empathy, along with a desire to find a balance and reap the rewards of my own healing.

Writing takes a great deal of emotional energy; however, my energy is often restored when someone writes to me to let me know that my energy is well spent.

I will continue to post, although with less regularity. Please feel free to peruse my older posts. I have much information here about my recovery from abuse and estrangement. When I think of something I would like to say, I will write about it.

Also, if anyone is struggling with something and would like my thoughts, I would be happy to share how I handled a similar situation, if I can.

You can post a comment or question here, or e-mail me through the e-mail address on my profile page.

Writing is and has been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life. It is an honor to be a part of a community of survivors!

On Child Abuse, Family Estrangement, and on Writing for Ourselves, and for Others - Part Three

Twelve years after I began writing the first draft of my manuscript (Mother, I don't Forgive You), Heal and Forgive went to publication. By this time, I knew a number of other abuse survivors and I felt largely healed from my trauma. Yet, the pain of family estrangement continued to rear its heartbreaking head. Although the subject of abuse is no longer taboo in our society, family estrangement is still a topic hidden in shame.

I joined a number of online estrangement support groups, and found solace that I was not alone in this experience. In sharing our circumstances, receiving validation, and offering support to others, once again, I found greater clarity about my healing and recovery from family estrangement. I posted to these groups and wrote in private correspondence almost daily for nearly three years.

The cycle of writing/healing, and healing/writing, aided me again when, after fourteen years of estrangement, my brother contacted me and we all began the process of family reconciliation. I am positive that I would not have been healed enough to explore the possibility of reuniting with my family without the support of my fellow estrangees, the sharing of experiences, and the opportunity to heal through the written word.

Emotionally, writing Heal and Forgive II took a lot out of me, but I wrote with the hope that I could help others; return the support that has been given to me; offer a blueprint for the possibility of healing from family violence, and perhaps even that which I always thought was impossible - forgiveness, and reconciliation.

Sharing my story has felt very vulnerable. Although writing has undoubtedly been healing for me, the real reward has been in having the opportunity to turn my negative experiences into a positive by advocating for other survivors. The feedback I receive "fills my tank." Offering hope, empathy, and validation to others is not only helpful to them, but soothes me as well, as we connect in our mutual humanity.....

On Child Abuse, Family Estrangement, and on Writing for Ourselves and for Others - Part Two

As my healing journey progressed, I soaked up information like a sponge; received a great deal of validation from others; expressed my anger; mourned my losses, and then, a confusing thing happened; I started to feel a glimmer of forgiveness. "No! I resisted, "That can't be!"

After militantly standing in the healing freedom of non-forgiveness for four years, this did not seem like a good thing. I didn't want to give up my safety. In my confusion, I abandoned my quest for publication.

Another four years passed before a friend asked me what happened to my manuscript. I told him that I had abandoned it because I was in a different emotional place. He said, "Why don't you continue anyway? I'm sure there are many people who are in the place you were and would benefit from your sharing the growth you experienced during your period of non-forgiveness. "

His words haunted me for months before I began to write again. I was in a quandary. How could I write a book titled Mother, I Don't Forgive You, if I was beginning to forgive? I didn't want to be disingenuous or to be one of those annoying people waving the forgiveness flag. I understood the pain of premature forgiveness all too well.

I felt deeply compelled to share with other survivors in order to spare them the delayed healing that I had suffered during all my wrong turns, detours and dead ends. Somehow, I wanted to write in a fashion that truly honored the experience when it was important NOT to forgive and still honor the place my journey was taking me. In other words, the entire process.

Of course, once again, writing helped me heal, and gave me greater clarity about my entire healing and forgiveness journey. This clarity helped me express myself in an authentic fashion.......

On Child Abuse, Family Estrangement, and on Writing for Ourselves and for Others - Part One

Writing has been an important part of my recovery. Both in terms of clarifying my own experiences and in validating the process for others.

I was born in 1957, in an era unlike today, when the subject of family violence was not discussed. I was in my early twenties before I even heard the phrase "child abuse." While I was growing up, I didn't know that there was a term for what was happening to me. There was no internet; the media didn't tell stories of abuse, and society at large held the "goings on" within any nuclear family as "none of our business."

As a child, and as a young adult, my pleas for help were met with silence, blame, or the typical "get over it" advice. For many years, the wall of silence I faced succeeded at keeping me compliant.

The door to recovery began to open when at thirty-five, I entered therapy and I found a few close confidants who were willing to bear witness to my pain. I will be forever grateful!

And still, my recovery was largely solitary. After suffering through decades with the old adage, "forgive, forget, and get over it," I knew there had to be a better way. I read survivor stories. There were very few back then, but for the first time, the validation I received from these stories offered a soothing balm to my injured soul. I was not alone!

In time, I needed more than mutual commiseration. I wanted tips from survivors on how to heal; time to heal, and mostly, I longed for self-preservation, and for permission NOT to forgive.

I became frustrated with the small availability of survivor stories during the eighties. The books I found were either the "This is what happened to me," variety without any blueprint for hope and healing, or the "Celebrity" sort of books that irritated me with, "I was abused, but I have forgiven, and now I have a great life," without showing concrete or realistic reasons/methods for forgiveness or the healing process in between.

After decades of abuse and finally the heartbreaking estrangement from my entire family, I decided to research and write the book I was looking for. A book based on the premise that forgiveness can be premature and wasn't necessary in order to heal. In fact, at that point in my recovery, trying to forgive had actually caused me a great deal of psychological damage.

I spent weeks at the library looking for books and articles to support my contention that forgiveness wasn't necessary. There were "slim pickins" back then, but I did find some material. The small dose of validation I received that it was okay not to forgive, gave me a huge sense of relief! It also afforded me the freedom necessary to focus solely on myself and what I needed in order to heal. It was liberating to say the least.

I had no idea where the writing of this book would take me. My first draft was titled, Mother, I Don't Forgive You: A Necessary Alternative for Healing. I still like that title; it speaks to an important part of my journey.

I encourage others to write. Writing helped me heal and healing helped me write. I wrote nearly non-stop for about four years, the last two of which I simultaneously sought publication. At first, I purged myself of a whopping 500 typewritten pages that read more like the diary of a mad woman than anything else. Yet, that first draft helped me process my recovery with greater clarity. This clarity, in turn helped me write more succinctly, which subsequently helped me understand my recovery better and so on. This process helped me refine the text down to about 100 pages that were more powerfully written.

While researching my book, I read some wonderful titles, including, Toxic Parents: Overcoming Their Hurtful Legacy and Reclaiming Your Life, by Susan Forward, Divorcing a Parent: Free Yourself from the Past and Live the Life You've Always Wanted, by Beverly Engels, and Breaking Down the Wall of Silence: The Liberating Experience of Facing Painful Truth, by Alice Miller.

These books aided me in my recovery a great deal. Yet, they didn't offer me the complete process I was looking for from a survivors perspective.........