Chaos & Confusion

Struggling to believe our memories seems to be a strong theme among survivors. The chaotic repercussion of not believing your mind is a serious thing. That event alone locks us into confusion. We’re fine to blame ourselves for our sexual promiscuity, for all the abusive relationships we’ve allowed and for all the maltreatment we’ve accostedContinue reading “Chaos & Confusion”

Dissociated, Disjointed & Denial

The three D’s of survival. When I watched my father kill tiny kittens on a rough block of wood, I reached into my tool bag and sorted through my survival skills. Which of the three D’s would I use? Any of them could work. When I watched the blood seeping out of one of theContinue reading “Dissociated, Disjointed & Denial”

Red Sky

Red sky at night, sailors’ delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. Just as the sky dictates the weather, so it is with life. It’s been easy to follow my memories as they return to me because my life story was evident all around me. Anger was my father’s finest friend; betrayal of all thatContinue reading “Red Sky”

Gluttons for Perversion

If we were to face the facts of childhood rape and molestation, it is perversion in the purest form. Predators of all kinds like the power they take when they possess another human being’s body to mutilate it for their own perverse pleasures. This should not be watered down. It is the epitome of theContinue reading “Gluttons for Perversion”

What Are Cherished Childhood Memories?

All the years I’ve spent in a counselor’s office trying to sift through the rubble of my childhood and heal, I never encountered the priceless, cherished moments that populate the early years of most. They just weren’t a commodity I was raised with. I’m not being a victim by sharing this, it’s just factual. AsContinue reading “What Are Cherished Childhood Memories?”

Dad, You Should’ve Just Told the Truth

My story could have played out differently. It could have been immediately filled with grace for him. At once, forgiveness could have sat with us at a holiday table. Instead, he lied. I became despised and abhorred by his family. They are no longer my family. As a survivor of his crimes, I struggled toContinue reading “Dad, You Should’ve Just Told the Truth”

Sunday Morning Coming Down

My dad loved Johnny Cash, but he loved chaos and control more. My father would drink until his legs betrayed him and he was forced to give in; subdued only until his strength returned. Denial became my gift as a child. Trust? That’s a fucking joke. Trust lived nowhere near our street and never cameContinue reading “Sunday Morning Coming Down”