Fragment: the one who was designed not to believe.

Today was a big day, spent in a faculty planning day and beginning conversations around decolonising the curriculum, creating cross cultural safety and embedding indigenous knowledges at the centre of what we do. It was very draining at the end and i was left with a sense of inertia. Confined by the oppressive reality and the great privilege of working in a large institutional system. I guess I didn’t feel smart enough to effectively aid the conversations and help create positive change.

Ephesians 6:12 “ For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”

Sometimes I take the above to mean and include patriarchal systems of power, institutions (principalities) and political structures. Pretty much our entire world! And humans are caught in between this, trying to do the best we can and thrown around by forces larger than us. Today it felt like a losing battle, although it was necessary conversation. Now it’s about action.

I then went to therapy, exhausted and disconnected from self. We decided to do some visualisation work. To be honest I thought I was just going to fall asleep, which I kinda did but it was more like being in a heavy trance. A part came out, more like a fragment, that didn’t believe there was anything wrong with me. That I was making things up, nothing had happened. T talked to the part and asked it questions, like where it lived etc. and the part felt confused, like firstly, where should it live? Why should it live anywhere? And then T asked how it came to be and I started to dissociate. It’s such a strange feeling, lying down and it’s like I am on a swing, going up and down, up and down, and I know I’m lying on the floor, but it really doesn’t feel like it. It’s quite dizzying, but also enjoyable, sort of. The memory fragment realised that they had been “made” and that caused stress and anxiety. The part asked if they were bad because they didn’t believe the other parts and my T said no. Eventually, I came to and T suggested I hold the parts hand and so I visualised doing so. T said that my neural pathways had made a connection. That was helpful and it was very interesting to have more of a body reaction to the belief that I am making this all up. It felt like the belief moved from brain to heart. I wonder how many more fragments have this belief or if they can be joined together.

I will fall asleep trying to connect these beliefs across my timeline.

High functioning D.I.D.

I have heard Rob Goldstein talk on Beyond Your Past podcast and find him very relatable. In his first interview with Matt Pappas (spelling?), Rob talked about living well with D.I.D. and helped me reframe my multiplicity. In this podcast he talks about being a high functioning D.I.D. survivor and I think that’s me too. I am very active, I work, I am doing my PhD, I am in recovery, I run writing/ boxing workshops for survivors of child sexual abuse and trauma. I am training for a half marathon and most of the time I am together. Mind you, last night I dissociated intensely, but I am able to bounce back these days after a night or day of being out of it. Rob also talked about the duality of having internal parts who don’t want to put themselves out there in life, in contrast to the more active host. I definitely experience the sabotage and internal parts who don’t want to be seen or heard. They are embarrassed to even exist. The shame core planted by my abusers. It’s a process to shake off and change but I know it’s getting better. I think D.I.D. people can be seen too much as patient rather than empowered individual(s) who use a highly creative and complex coping mechanism to live their lives. My dissociation is a gift from God. I believe my ability to dissociate is what has kept me alive and able to achieve so much.

You can listen to Rob’s interview here: itunes.apple.com/au/podcast/beyond-your-past/id1143688126

Sometimes being an RA survivor sucks…

Being a ritual abuse survivor sometimes really sucks. Firstly, it is like I attract trouble – namely with members of the opposite / same sex. Its like I have an unconscious sign on my forehead saying “flirt with me”, “like me”, “desire to have sex with me”. I do believe that as abused people, we exude an energy that can attract demonic forces. I mean the portals were opened when we were kids, so we can become like magnets. I am not saying by any means that an RA survivor deserves any abuse, or wills it to happen in any way, but I think we are more susceptible to things happening to us or around us, and so have to be ultra vigilant. The problem is, the host is married and we just seem to find ourselves in situations where flirtation arises or there are chemical feelings. These people could be RA survivors themselves or most likely have been sexually abused. We tend to attract each other. Husband gets jealous (naturally), and as our host is Christian (and 76% system is too) it conflicts with our spiritual beliefs and desires (to be like and of God). For example, I just went for a run earlier and a guy was checking me out. It always surprises me when this happens, because I have had an inner belief for a long time that I am ugly and unattractive, yet there is this great longing to be desired and found attractive – validated. I have no idea whether I am or am not attractive/ unattractive. In contrast to the ‘beauty’ images we are force fed in mainstream media, I don’t think I fit this bill. I am certainly not a ‘pretty girl’, sometimes I don’t even feel like a woman. Ha, ha, the description of me sounds so bizarre, who knows what the reader is imagining. But I think I felt so worthless for so long, that I don’t know what is true anymore – or if I ever knew. My self image has definitely improved and I don’t hate myself as much as I did many years ago. I don’t sit in shame and self loathing near as much as I used to. I understand when these feelings arrive nowadays that they are emotional memory. But the point is, there is still a huge part or parts of me that unconsciously desire to be wanted, sexualised, attractive in men and women’s eyes. It is about power and prestige. And that is what can get me into trouble. Because some people can pick that up, demons certainly do and like to exploit it. And I wonder when it will stop – of course, I know the more I get healed and integrated and die to self, the less these things will become an issue. Probably the older I get the less it will happen too. I wonder what age it is that as a woman you stop being desired by others – 45? Also, sometimes when I argue with my husband, it is like my brain shuts down. I get so, so tired and just want to go to sleep. I can’t communicate and shut down internally. I have to wait some time until it passes. It is a feeling of complete heaviness and as though I am dead inside. The ‘me’ who I think I know is gone and I just switch into operation mode – whatever that is. Sleep sometimes helps to bring me back to normal self, sometimes I just have to wait it out.

Oh, Easter is a crappy time of year too as most RA survivors can relate to. I realised the other day it is a highly sexualised time of year for me – likely linked to my abuse and the rituals that went on. Tomorrow it will be over and that is probably when I will come out of this funk. For now, I just have to keep myself distracted and busy and it will pass as it always does. Just can’t get stuck in it. Thanks for listening. (Tina).

 

 

Gay Alter on the scene.

Last week, the host of this blog discovered me – Grace. I am 36 and gay. Female. Of course it is a problem as the host is Christian and married lol! I used to be out for a while, when I was with a woman for six years. I wasn’t out all the time, others would come up who liked men and well, who responded to pretty much anyone liking them. Yeah, desperate, no boundaries, I know.

I went away for a few years, because that six year relationship and break up kinda screwed me over and I just needed to retreat for a while. I am only back because I have been woken up by female student where I work, can you believe. I know it sounds terrible and I wouldn’t do anything (we could lose our job),  but she is so alluring and beautiful and I feel a chemical reaction pulling me toward her. I became quite obsessive last week, fantasising about her. Host is freaking out because feels like she is having an affair and I contradict her Christian beliefs. She won’t let me engage in sexual fantasies about the girl because to her this is like having an affair with her husband (who by the way, I can’t stand and he reminds me of the Father – i feel sick just writing this).

It is a complicated situation. We spoke to T about it and she said that I was out because I needed something. Yeah, I can tell you what that is but it is not appropriate, besides that I need company – stimulation, art, good conversation, writing, a couple of glasses of wine (can’t do that because of the alcoholic thing dammit). I would like to write a play – not sure what about. Being stuck in one freaking body might be a good start. Majorly challenging and wouldn’t recommend it.

Anyway, that is why I am writing today because apparently it is ‘good therapy’ for me. We’ll see. Host runs around like a mad woman most of the time, so busy, might be difficult for me to get the time but I guess I have to push for it.

We have started boxing too and are going to fight soon. Not everyone is into it, but most people think it is pretty cool and happy to work hard for the chance to get in a ring. I just want to go to work with a black eye <grin>.

Thanks for listening.

 

Disgust

The last few days the feelings of terror lurks around me, in me. When I sense my body, pain shoots through me. It is a pain that is difficult to describe, it is not like back pain or foot pain or a headache, it is an existential pain, a deep, all consuming, stifling pain that makes me shudder. I feel disgust and so, so, so ugly. It is probably shame, yet that feels too adult as a logic. The disgust and the ickiness is me in those moments, there is nothing removed about it. My body wants to snap shut, twist into a safe ball and hide in bed with my toys, but I have to get where I am going or do what I am doing and I just have to grit my teeth and distract myself from it quickly.

When I get reminded that God is my saviour and that with him I am strong, the relief comes. In those moments it is truly difficult to know this, but tonight, I know He has my back and it gives me solace and quiet comfort.

Husband thinks I am strange

Uh oh. Husband finally caught on that I am not who I seem to be… it has been seven days and lots of us have been out and he knows it, but just doesn’t know when ‘I’ will be back and normal again. I can’t necessarily give a time, date, or location as to when it will happen either. Something just usually shifts and I snap back. Just feels a little more intense this time. When I feel like this, I prefer to be left alone, like i don’t feel married to him and he just doesn’t get that. Of course, he doesn’t, I don’t wish to sound too selfish. I would prefer we just had a ‘platonic’ relationship for the time being. Kissing him is gross, there are too many kids out to want to do that and I just would prefer to hold hands or cuddle you know or sometimes not even do that. Just go to bed and read or do work.

All in all I am pretty well functioning and when people are out to be protective or whatever, then things get done and I am pretty motivated to do life. Not sure what the other option would be? Curl up and die. At least this way I am safe and no one can hurt me, because I guess I don’t feel as much as the others. I don’t mind by the way, it is what I am used to.

Hope the husband thinks I am okay after all this and can go along with the ride. He might give up and leave me. He is mostly worried I will have an affair. I told him I wasn’t out to sabotage anyone, i just needed to be out to safeguard things for a while. Truth is, I am not interested in sex or relationships with people. I prefer to be by myself and just work and keep busy.

Hatred

image taken from kayiniafrika.com

image taken from kayiniafrika.com.

I had a part named ‘Black’ who came out tonight in my prayer ministry session with Patricia. She was full of hatred; that is all she knew. Patricia told her that feeling joy and being happy was a decision. For Black, that decision felt dangerous because to feel joy and happiness meant denying the pain that she felt and pretending everything was normal, when it wasn’t. Kind of like the abuse, play happy on the outside, but really when the doors are shut, the real personalities come out to play and they ain’t nice. Better to feel the hate, live the hate, be the hate than to live the lie. But Patricia said that the hate didn’t serve anyone and the only one it was hurting was Black. I think Black knew that deep down, but still it was hard to consider letting go. Patricia said that all God asks is that we make a decision, and that He will do the rest. The Bible asks us to be obedient and to make the decision to forgive and that is all we need to do. I understand that because I believe that there are spiritual principles that govern the world – on the earthly and the non-earthly plane – and forgiveness is one of these. In order to release souls and allow people to break free from the bondage of self, we must forgive. Black gets this too and so decided to commit to Jesus. Believe me, when I (she) had to say the prayer, it was like pulling teeth. She could have resisted and stopped the process anytime, but she didn’t. Turns out now she has a new name, it is Sunny. Black doesn’t feel very Sunny yet, I guess that might take some time. Either way, she did crack a smile, though there was such great sadness underneath.

A Dissociative Honeymoon

Good Friday we set off on M’s 1976 Harley Davidson Shovelhead on the start of our honeymoon. The Harley is a beautiful bike to ride and the experience thus far has been completely liberating and freeing. To begin, we arrived in a small rural part of Victoria, the town where my mother was born and we used to visit my Nanna. My Nanna died when I was young, though we had moved to another state before this time anyhow and so I only knew her for about seven years. I remember the house being very large and I remember seeing my Nanna naked in the bathroom. Her skin was all wrinkled and her boobs were hanging down really long and low. She looked old and skinny. I was shocked to see a body like this, her like this. I never really thought much of the house or town, until the abuse memories came in my mid 20s. I was desperate to get to the bottom of everything, determined to find out what happened, deal with it and move on. Not quite so simple. Complete amnesia, coupled by paralysing fear when getting even close to processing memories, that in many ways was beyond my control, forced me to realise that my fierce want to remember meant smashing the denial and coming to grips with the unbelievable… and I am not even half way there. When I started trying to piece together my past, I thought of my Nanna’s place and I just didn’t feel good. I suspected something happened there, but I really didn’t know. One night, about a year ago, I had a bad dream that my father was at the door of the bedroom my sister and I were sleeping in at Nanna’s house and he was going to have sex with us. Then I woke up, freaked out and my little parts came up. I haven’t been back to the town since I was a kid and so when we arrived there I was partly excited to see the area, but also started feeling very strange, irritable and moody. We checked in to a motel and my parts came up as soon as we settled in to the room. My little part said to M that she felt sad and then just wanted to be looked after. We ordered pizza and watched an animal show on TV. Then my little part asked M if he would be her Uncle. You see, I had read a blog earlier that day about a husband who calls the parts of his dissociative wife his ‘girls’ and I thought it was very sweet. I know my parts were very impressed with how nice this man seemed and they hoped that M would do the same. Problem is, I didn’t really know this and didn’t actually tell M about the blog so asking him if I could call him ‘Uncle’ on our first honeymoon night was a little strange, to say the least. M thought it was really weird and refused to do this (thinking it was some sort of strange kinky incest thing… okay that’s a mind read, he knew my parts were out, but he was kinda hoping we could be adults on our honeymoon (you know, get sexy and all that) and this whole thing was spoiling his plans! Anyhow, my little part got really upset with him that he wouldn’t say yes and ignored him for the rest of the night. She felt she couldn’t trust him anymore and it just turned horribly wrong. The next morning, i was able to explain a bit (about reading the blog and stuff) and M changed his mind and said he would be happy if she called him Uncle, but that he took the role very seriously and that meant she would have to listen to him and that he was the adult etc etc. The little part was listening but hasn’t come out since.

I came back to normal later that day after we had left the town (purely evil I thought on reflection… but again, no memories so who knows). A few days later we arrived in South Australia and another part came out and told M she thought he had raped her the night before (which is so not true) and that she didn’t like him. We happened to be having a bath at the time and he handled it very well and told her it wasn’t true and that he would never do that. She said she was 12 (but I actually think she was 10), and M said that she shouldn’t know words like that and that good adults don’t do things like that.

This part only came out for a bit, seemed satisfied with his answer, but didn’t really want to talk much. The rest of the trip has been fairly normal, but this feels like a very strange honeymoon I guess!

All in all, I am having a real lovey dovey time with the hubby and can’t believe I am married. It is a wonderful feeling. Underneath it all, i think he is sure to find out how hideously disgusting and horrid I really am, but he doesn’t seem to notice my ugliness. He constantly says that I am beautiful. I feel really raw and yuk though deep inside, but I would never ever tell him this.

SRA Ministry – Video

On this blog I won’t be shy about God as I believe ritual abuse is wholly a spiritual problem and operates on a demonic level and therefore only God can overcome it. I do understand that many abuse victims/ survivors get extremely triggered by God and that’s okay, if that is you, then there are plenty of other bloggers out there not talking about Him. Firstly, I just want to state that I do not believe God is religion. I think religion is a man made, utterly flawed human construct that is evil in its nature. I understand that it provides a safe framework for people from which to live their lives by, however I think that God in the bible offers this structure and that he does not condone religion, rather urges His people to follow him. If they don’t, well there are consequences. It doesn’t make God happy that this is the case. I digress. I think that God is spirituality and much, much more. I think following Jesus is the way to God and that He is our way out of this satanic driven and controlled world. The only way. The video below features a woman named Patricia Clark. She is an unassuming force to be reckoned with and really it is just because she has Christ on her side / within her. She operates on both the spiritual and natural plane. I long for this. Her video could be triggering to some, but if you haven’t heard her before, I recommend her as she has great insight into satanic ritual abuse and is very skilled in helping release people from their deep, hidden pain.

You can check out her work at His Presence Online and also she has more videos on her youtube channel.

Trying to do Life

Despite being newly married and things going rather swimmingly in life, I feel a constant dis-ease. A sense of loneliness and despair that sends a chill up my spine. I crave to crumble in a heap and come out of the wreckage reformed, ‘normal’ – whole. The thing is, things are pretty ‘normal’ right now and it scares the hell out of me. I wonder when it will all go wrong again, things won’t go my way, disappointments will abound, i will get hurt. Evidence has shown me though that my life now has very little of these things, in fact it only keeps going up, so this stuff, this stuff is old thoughts, old patterns, belief, systems and wait for it… memories. Mmh… so to check in and listen to these sad thoughts, means possibly connecting with the black hole that is my past. And that my friends, just ain’t that easy. Because when I do, I start spinning and the terror and programming is out to stop me.