Alice, Milton and Oscar: Making Sense of it All

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Alice, attic, child, childhood, dark complexities, discovery, literature, loss, mad hatter, making sense, Milton, Oscar Wilde, paradise, reality, social anxiety, Wonderland

Source: Google Images photo: Ruya Foundation

“When children are trying to make sense of things that are beyond their understanding, they will usually try and work it out within the context that they do know and understand. … I watch as art is used as a reconnection point, the bridge, between the destruction of self, and the beginning of some sense of future, of hope. It seems that in this reclamation of the soul art is reborn”. – Justine Hardy, author and trauma psychologist, on art, conflict and healing.

Alice, Milton & Oscar: Making Sense of it All

Later much later, but before she had discovered that Oscar wasn’t really wild, and Milton’s paradise wasn’t lost, at least not lost the way she perceived it, rather that it wasn’t in the place that she had put it, and it was there after all, on the book shelf, partly covered by Alice’s adventures in wonderland, a place that she would not want to visit even if the mad hatter personally escorted her there. Besides, she hated tea parties!

Her own reality was such that it seemed more fitting to smile outwardly, while life as she knew it passed her by in a fog of pretence. Much of her childhood embraced activities which should have been enjoyable but were somehow grubbily tinged by the other stuff which did not make sense, at least to her, but she was in no position to prevent, avoid or escape from. So while brushing her teeth each morning, she would squirm as something else brushed up against her which on inspection did not foam and certainly did not leave her feeling clean and sparkling.

A sense of inadequacy pervaded the world in which she existed, and she questioned what was real and what was not. But childish views and thoughts are no match for the dark complexities which swirl in never-ending circles. There was not enough time to make sense of it all, and yet there was more than enough time, so she decided that instead of going around and around in circles, she would place it all in the attic that Oscar talked about. And if somehow, paradise lost, languishing on the book shelf could be found, then, perhaps the mad hatter would be just the person to help her find it.

~ Marie Williams – 2017

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The Twins, Part 2 – Perfectionism

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Anna Waldherr, avoicereclaimed, childhood, collaboration, expectations, family, fear, healing, perfectionism, procrastination, relationships, restoration, spirituality, twins

This is the second part of Anna Waldherr’s brilliantly written post on the twins: procrastination and perfectionism. Again thank you Anna for inviting me to collaborate on this – not only was it a joy, but it also helped me to see why it was so important for me to be perfect in an imperfect world. Now I know that I don’t need to be and I hope others will see that they don’t need to be perfect either. We are worthy just as we are.

ANNA WALDHERR A Voice Reclaimed, Surviving Child Abuse

Siamese Twins, Nuremberg Chronicles (1440-1514) (PD-Old)

This post was written in collaboration with Marie Williams whose remarks are highlighted.  Marie blogs at Come Fly with Me, https://mariewilliams53.wordpress.com.

We return to the topic of procrastination and perfectionism, related patterns of behavior in which many abuse victims find themselves trapped.

The part we play in creating our own dilemmas – the large and small crises in our lives stemming from procrastination – was discussed in Part 1 of this series.

Chance for Failure (Imperfection)

“…for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control” (2 Tim. 1: 7).

Apart from the problems it would generate for anyone, failure – defined by many abuse victims as imperfection, to any small degree – results in shame and self-revilement for us.  Since creating these dilemmas greatly increases our chance for failure, the question arises why we persist…

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The Twins, Part 1 – Procrastination

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Anna Waldherr, anxiety, approval, avoicereclaimed, chaos, clutter, comfort, grief, loss, love, making sense of, procratination, self-sabotage, survival

Once again Anna, you have given us a clear, compassionate and sensitive view on the ways in which abuse affects the lives of survivors. I don’t personally believe that procrastination affects only those of us who have been abused because it is something that can be present in the lives of everyone to some extent. But here we are talking about how chaos affects those of us who have experienced severe and traumatic abuse and how procrastination manifests itself in a way that makes a survivor’s life even more difficult than it already is.
As Anna Waldherr says: “In the aftermath of emotional abuse, victims may try desperately to be perfect — at home, at school, at work — in the hope of winning the approval denied us as children. Of course, we should not have to “win” love at all. It should be freely given, certainly to children. As for procrastination, the longer we put off a task, the greater the likelihood we will fail to complete it “perfectly”, perhaps fail to complete it at all”.

ANNA WALDHERR A Voice Reclaimed, Surviving Child Abuse

Entwined Geminis, Safavid Dynasty, Persia (c. 1635), Author Unknown, Source pinterest.com (PD)

This post was written in collaboration with Marie Williams whose remarks are highlighted.  Marie blogs at Come Fly with Me, https://mariewilliams53.wordpress.com.

“Most of my life has been spent circling or avoiding important things that I need to do and I get very frustrated with myself.  Sometimes, I find myself trying to locate passports or important papers at the 11^th hour, when I’ve had ample time to deal with matters like this.”

-Marie Williams

Procrastination and perfectionism are patterns of behavior well familiar to abuse victims, twin destructive forces that have deep meaning for those who have suffered abuse.

We invest the necessary (the “shoulds” and “musts” of life) with the power to annihilate us, or at least demolish the fragile image we have of ourselves.  Then we defer, delay, and defer again – certain that we will…

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Agoraphobia: part 2: Professor Green, Talking Therapy and Me

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awareness, child abuse, fears, fun, healing, journey, letting go, Loose Women, mental health, Professor Green, rapper, rapping. laughter, self-knowledge, therapy

Warning: this post contains references to rap which might not be everyone’s cup of tea. But I hope this will not prevent you from reading to the end.

You may remember that in my last post I spoke about agoraphobia and how it impacted my life. Not to go on at length, but to explain how Professor Green (a British rapper, not a University professor) helped me in my own healing process, I would like to share my thoughts with you. I also want to touch on talking therapy/counselling which I really believed saved me during this uncertain and debilitating period of my life.

I was at home watching ‘Loose Women’* on television, and Professor Green was a guest on the programme. Professor Green is a well-known rapper who catapulted to fame in recent years. He is a young man who has documented how his early life impacted the way he is today and how his music reflects this. He grew up on a council estate in London, mainly raised by his grandmother. His father was absent for most of his life. This affected him in many negative ways, but he rose above this to become an international rap star. Professor Green’s father took his own life shortly after he had become reconciled with his son many years later and after he [Green] had become famous. This devastated him and he has since recorded a television programme about suicide in which he speaks openly about his love for his grandmother (who stabilised his childhood) and the impact his father’s untimely death had on his own life.

To get to the point, Professor Green spoke about counselling on Loose Women. He talked about how it helped him come to terms with his ‘demons’. I was incredibly impressed and touched at how openly this young man spoke about his own experiences with mental health issues that I listened with more interest than usual. Having my own mental health issues (PTSD, chronic anxiety and agoraphobia) his thoughts resonated with me.

Here comes the rapping! Those of you who have had the ‘pleasure’ of watching last year’s ‘X Factor’ will get a better feel of what I’d like you to do if you watched Honey G’s performance as a contestant. Honey G would rap saying:

“When I say Honey, you say G”, and this would be repeated many times, depending on how the audience received it. It went down really well. If you like that sort of thing. It’s a matter of taste. So here is my version:

When I say: ‘Professor’ you say: ‘Green’
Me: When I say Professor
You say: Green!
Me: When I say Professor
You say: ‘Green’

I was sittin’ in my home
All alone
got no friends
To call my own
Wanting someone to pick up the ‘phone
give me a call
so I don’t drown
In my sorrows
On my own

Me: When I say Professor
You say: Green!
Me: When I say Professor
You say: Green!

Mental health
has got a bad rap
That’s why I’m gonna
Put it on the map!
Shout it loud
and shout it clear
Mental health
There’s nothing to fear!

Me: When I say Professor
You say: Green
x2

I hope you managed to get a rhythm going. That helps! I hope Lady G and Tareau weren’t the only ones rapping along with me. Were you rapping Hariod? Anna?

Seriously, Professor Green was instrumental in getting me back on the road to recovery. He not only talked about how counselling helped him in his darkest periods, but he went on to say that although his situation was much improved, he still used counselling as therapy whenever he felt he needed it. And consequently, he was at present in therapy. Those words propelled me into action. If Professor Green was on daytime television, advocating counselling and he was not ashamed or embarrassed, what say me?

After the programme, I immediately went on-line to research counsellors in my area. I was very fortunate to find someone who has been incredibly helpful and who has allowed me to see that my case is not hopeless. That was over one year ago and I haven’t looked back since. Thanks Professor Green! I am not going to suggest that a few trips to a counsellor will make everything better. It takes time. It takes a willingness to partake in your own healing. It takes courage. It takes persistence. It takes faith. Often time, it can seem there is no light at the end of the tunnel. I’d like to encourage those who feel that there is no way out, that I found mine, and you can too.

~ Marie Williams 2017

* ‘Loose Women’ is a day-time television programme in which a panel of women discuss current topics.
– Final Part 3 to follow

Father

Tags

90th Birthday, abuse, anger, child abuse, communication, compassion, forgiveness, healing, heart, hurt, prose poetry, sadness, self-knowledge, therapy

Father

I know so little about you. I do regret that and I wonder if it is possible to go back while there is still time. But is there still time? And if there is, what would I ask you and would you answer me truthfully, or would you continue to evade my curious, questionning heart,confuse, abuse, lose me in that maze, that maze that you constructed, stiff, stifling, solid walls around you, saying “keep out!”.

Who mothered you? Who fathered you? Who were your friends? Who struck you? Where did your rage come from? At whose hands did you learn to fight, bite, keep tight, never lose sight of the anger, hold it, nurture it, feed it, plead with it to keep you safe, safe from the hurt and the pain which surely must have followed you doggedly in your formative years?

My tears, my fears, the passing years, heaped in a pile in a bundle in the centre of my heart. I keep meaning to have a clear out, but I don’t have the strength to tackle that bundle, so I trundle along in the hope that one day soon, I’ll march in, take hold, unfold all those offending garments, toss them into a place where I can see them for what they are: questions, questions with no answers. No answers.

I have known you for years untold and yet I do not know you. You have been in my heart, never too far apart, lingering languidly upon my lips, in my thoughts, in my prayers and layer after layer of you is impressed upon my being. I need to forgive myself for not getting to know you. I need to forgive you for not letting me get to know you.

~ mew

Hurt

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awareness, child abuse, children, healing, hurts, Kendall Person, key, monster, pain, poetry, princess, sex, violence

This amazing poem at the end of this post:  “A Princess on Every Street” by Kendall F. Person has made me focus on the real problems faced today by children.  What insight!  How very well articulated and more to the point how very true.  So many of us are the product of such a sometimes cruel world.  The third verse particularly resonates with me.  So many small girls (“princesses”) and boys (princes) walk among us feeling the pain of abuse, childhoods stolen, unable to speak of their pain because they are children.  Many can only articulate their pain well into old age or perhaps never at all.  Stolen lives – what an absolute tragedy!  Today let us think about those princes and “princesses” and allow our thoughts to heal their wounds.    A Question often asked by the abused are “Why (Did you hurt me)? They struggle with the pain for years “When Pain Came to Stay”.  They don’t understand how to deal with the “monster” – their abuser.  I hope that my poems will touch the hearts of many of you today.

Five Stroke Fourteen (or Look what you’ve made me do to you)

 The monster sits beside me

He has a caring expression on his face

“Look what you’ve made me do to you”, he says

But I shrink from his imminent embrace

 

Because I know

Deep within my spirit

He seeks to control me

 

The monster touches my bruised and battered face

He did it

In a fit

Of rage!

His hunger for control to assuage

 

Because I know

Deep within my spirit

He seeks to control me

 

And control me he does

Because he knows

That I won’t tell

And I won’t yell

“Monster!”

 

Because I know

Deep within my spirit

He seeks to control me

 

Slowly, slowly I come to realise

I am nothing, but a punch-bag in his eyes

A thing of beauty to despise

But now I bravely rise

 

Casting off the fears

Releasing uncontrollable tears

Standing tall and proud

No longer wearing sorrow as a shroud

I am free, free to be Me

Copyright Marie Williams – July 2009

 

When Pain Came to Stay

I am old and grey, and wiser now,

But does the pain go away?

No it stays another day.

Why does it stay for another day

When I want this pain to go away?

 

This pain has been my friend

He moved in with me many years ago

I don’t remember asking him to stay

In fact I barely knew his name

But he took the best room in the house

 

I was only 5, when Pain knocked on the door

“Who are you”, I said, no screamed!

A kick, then a punch, and my body flew

Through the air, Pain was not happy

To leave it there, He needed to leave his mark

 

Seemed like hours and hours

The hurt and the struggle

Knocking me, knocking me

Hurting me, the tears and the fears

Were born that day

 

And how that child pain grew

From strength to strength

And day to day, what could I do

To make pain pack his bags and leave

So that I could be so happy and free

 

I’ll never know why Pain chose me

I guess that will always be a mystery

All I know is that it fed off me

And almost brought me to death’s door

The day pain came to stay with me

 

At last Pain has decided to go

And will I miss Him? Oh gosh no!

But am I stronger for his stay; did I triumph after all?

Put it this way, the locks to that door have been changed

And Pain no longer holds a key

Copyright  Marie Williams – March 2009

 

 

WHY (Did you hurt me)?

What is the question?

Why do you ask the question?

I ask because I want to know

The answer means that I can go

 

To a place, a place of peace

A place where I’ll be able to rest

Safe in the knowledge that at last I

Can say I know the reason why

 

Is it important to ask?

You will say

Or is it better to know the why

How will it improve your day?

You say

 

Do you think the hurts will dissolve?

At last will you gain some resolve

Will the problem go away?

Or will it be the same anyway?

 

Now you confuse me

It’s as if you abuse me

By appearing to challenge

The extent of the damage

 

Why do you not see?

That the innermost core

Of my tortured soul

Seeks only to know why it pains me

 

Seems best not to ask the reason why

Best to let the problem die

Best to move forward

And that will be your reward!

 

 

 

A Princess on Every Street
by Kendall F. Person

There is a princess on every street.
We know who they are by their smiling faces,
and silver braces.
We see the pretty dresses that they wear,
and the adorable ponytails arranged of their hair.
We see them skipping down the walk,
headed off to school,
and ready for the world
because they are daddy’s little girl.

There is a princess on every street.
In the broken down apartment buildings,
and in the houses that blot the streets.
We know who they are,
even if they rarely come outdoors
by the songs they sing,
like The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow,
and other wishful things.

There is a princess on every street. Living with abusers
intent on robbing them of a childhood and a future.
We know who they are from the sadness in their eyes
and the bruises on their faces,
that hide the truth in memorized excuses.
We watch them fail their classes
lost concentration, partly to blame.
We feel them close down, isolating themselves
blocking out the world, but still living with the pain.

Clean and dirty, homeless and rich.
Every color of the rainbow,
in every country on earth.
There is a princess on every street.
And the little girls that do not know this,
please deliver to them this message
and let them know…. they are a Princess too.

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