In my head

I’m trapped in my head. I think the hardest things about SRA are the feelings of shame and worthlessness. It’s like they are within me, weighting me down. It’s an indescribable pain. If I pay attention to my body I end up shaking and dissociating. Usually work helps but at the moment it is just stressing me out.

I am away at this conference and it’s been really lovely. At the same time there is this massive gaping hole within me. It’s like black lava. I am surviving but as I said to a survivor friend today, I constantly feel like I am on the edge of a breakdown. I don’t think you could pick it (I could be wrong), but inside there’s a part of me thinking, any day now, you’re off to the loony bin. Maybe I will re-emerge all bright and bubbly with a sharp witted personality and razor edge humour.

A writer spoke at the conference this afternoon and all of her jobs and networks were built at the bar. Too bad for me. Being an ex alcoholic I can’t hang out at those places. Sometimes alcohol gets you places but I’m one of those people where it just took things away. It made me feel even more disconnected. One of the worst things about being an academic is the belief system “if you can’t do, you teach”. I don’t look at other teachers this way, but I look at me like that. It supports the belief I am a failure. I have nothing to bring to this role. I shouldn’t be doing it.

I am thinking of changing industries, yet I have no idea what I would do. Mental health work seems obvious given my head. I seem to have lost sense of what I do and what I can do. Like I have a set of skills but they’re not mine you know. I guess that’s dissociation. I spoke today to someone and started talking about arts education and creative practice and a part of me was like “oh yeah, I forgot I like that. That stuffs cool.” Its like I have to remind myself what I do again. As though the projects give me grounding and purpose. Otherwise I forget the point of living. Maybe I’m switching I’m not sure. I just think I am in a depression.

I keep wanting to defend myself. I’m exercising you know. I prayed and tried to meditate with God this morning, you know. I had moments of reprieve today and it was nice. Then I sensed me again or saw me in the mirror and felt sad.

I feel a lot of shame about sharing my depression and poor mental health. I feel embarrassed. As though it’s my fault. I’m perpetuating it by writing about it. I’m a victim. Keep surrendering moment by moment. Inch by inch.


The depression is real. I feel it like a weighted blanket. It is comfortable I guess. I am tired. I keep thinking I would be better off dead. I have little energy to make it… to do life. Today I slept in a bit, then went for a run whilst S rode alongside me. We were out for about two hours. It was a good effort. So even though I’m running, I’m exhausted you know. I’m doing the right things. I need to pray more. I miss God but let’s face it even when I had God I was depressed. Maybe there was hope. I feel like I’m in a battle. I want to change things up but can’t muster up energy. What to do? I’m in a constant state of confusion again. On Tuesday interstate for a conference and I am looking forward to that. I am looking forward to staying in a hotel. I need to request a bath. I am so desperate for a bath. I’m going to stay in the hotel and order in and sleep. Then the conference will be very busy. Wednesday is my job interview for the job I’m in. I’m nervous. I feel uninspired. I want to tell them to F off but I would never do that. I want to run away, but I would never do that. Today I thought about buying a super cheap house in the middle of rural Australia and just laying low until life is over. Because when I try to make meaning it doesn’t seem to last. I’m not sure if that’s the depression speaking.

Ritual Abuse Survivors Read Their Poems of Suffering and Healing

I am sharing an event that I am part of. The below information was written by Jean Riseman. I am going to be reading some poetry at this event with some other amazing survivors. Sign up details are included in the information below.

It’s happening! I’m excited and hope it is the first of many similar events.

Back in the days when there were a great many survivors in the Bay Area interested in 12 step meetings, Survivorship conferences, and other ways of meeting survivors, we held poetry readings at bookstores. They were well attended and both fun and inspiring. Now there are few independent bookstores and it would be much harder to get enough people to attend.

So we turned to the Internet. This the first U.S. reading of RA poems since the turn of the century, as far as I know, and surely the first virtual one! I would love to be wrong, of course. If there have been others, I hope you will tell us about them in the comment section. And let us know if more are being planned.

We have asked six poets from varying backgrounds to read some of their work during the first hour. The second hour will be open to everybody attending to ask questions and share comments. If the reading is enthusiastically received, we will schedule another.

We want you to know ahead of time that we will give a general trigger warning at the beginning of the program, along with suggestions for self-care. Individual poems will not have trigger warnings. Not all of the poetry is heavy.

Sign-up is through Eventbrite and the reading itself will take place on ZOOM.

Here is the link to the Eventbrite announcement and sign-up for “Ritual Abuse Survivors Read Their Poems of Suffering and Healing.”

If you don’t have ZOOM on your computer, laptop, or phone, download it now and play with it to familiarize yourself with the basics. It’s pretty easy.

The reading is taking place on Saturday, July 10. I am hosting it and Leni is the Chair and technical organizer. If you would like to get to know Leni, her blog is at One of the poets, Daniel, has volunteered to help with the chat.

Here are some popular time zones:

Saturday, July 10, 4-6 pm Pacific Time  

Saturday, July 10, 5-7 Mountain Time  

Saturday, July 10, 6-8 Central Time  

Saturday, July 10, 7-9 pm East Coast Time 

Sunday, July 11, 9 -11 am Melbourne AEST (Leni lives in Australia and is always a day ahead of the US, Canada, and Europe!) 

Also, I am putting together a mailing list called “RA MC Events and Information.” Everybody who signed up through Eventbrite will be added automatically. If you want to be on the list, but can’t attend the reading, just drop me a line at or in the comments section after this post, and I will add you.

Please share this information with anybody you feel might be interested. 

We hope many of you attend with all your friends!!!

Jean and Leni

Hypnosis session 2.

I went to today’s hypnosis with an intention; to work on my relationship with money as it is attributed to memories around child prostitution. Although I have come along way with money over the past couple of years in particular (thank you Barefoot Investor book), I still find that I have feelings of fear around it. It’s like I want to get rid of it. It feels like I shouldn’t be holding on to it, I don’t want it and I don’t deserve it. At the session today it also came out that getting money was associated with getting hurt. After we talked and set the scene, I lay on the table thing and the hypnosis woman D put a weighted blanket on me. She asked the parts who had fears / feelings around money to join in if they wanted. Then she put me into trance, which is nothing scary, I started in my safe house meeting / lounge room, then went down five stairs to a room underneath. The room was really pretty and safe and she asked me to invite some healers / people of strength around, so I had Jesus and an angel and a lion there. Then she had the parts who were involved join and there were 12 of them and she asked how old they were and their ages ranged from 3 to 12, maybe 13. In the middle of the room was a large fire, a safe one and she had me put all the feelings I had around money and the prostitution in a box and to breathe in then out and on the out breath to push out the crap. My body started to shake and get all weird and then I had to turn over as the pain was hurting so much and she asked me where it’s hurting and I said between my legs. She asked me something like what did it look like or if it looked like an object what was it and I said a knife. She then began pulling it out and praying over me or something and I was in a lot of pain. But eventually the memory just shook through me and I was okay. And then a part asked what do we do with the box and she laughed nicely because she could see we were okay. She said to let the light take it, just let it disappear because it’s not my stuff. And that was it. When we debriefed she said she felt like she had all this strength of light behind her helping her shift this stuff out of me. She got emotional when she told me that. It made me feel nice and protected.

I came home and went for a half marathon run. I felt good. Lighter. More focused. Determined.