Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Road Signs Part I

A friend informed me that my child was suffering from and eating disorder; I didn't see any signs.

Another friend gave me a book on INCEST, saying that God told him to give it to me; I was in denial.

I read it and trembled in fear, no longer in denial.

While making love one night I screamed for my spouse to get off me NOW !!! I thought he was my dad.

My first counselor said that he could feel the spirit of sexual victimization as I sat in his waiting room.

At the dinner table I felt a hand on my inner thigh and smelled a repugnant odor from my dad.

My counselor asked me to SEE who else was victimized; I saw many family members in a circle in the dark.

My grandmother made a blood sacrifice for my soul.

I couldn't sleep, had night sweats, nightmares filled with dark figures, demons, all chasing me.

I stopped seeing my first counselor because I couldn't talk about sex with a male.

I no longer could function outside of my home; I stayed in bed most of the day for months.

I told my sister what I remembered in my dreams; she said, "They're only dreams!"

My niece was hospitalized in a children's psychiatric facility for threatening her sister; I talked with her mom about my memories.

My brother said that my father had been molested by his father while in the bath tub.

My sister came to see me; called me a witch and crazy.

My older brother came over and said that I had better stop talking; my life was threatened.

I was referred by another friend to a female counselor.

My new counselor asked me what my nightmare was about the night before though I hadn't mentioned that I had one.


The ceiling was dripping with blood from a cat on a rope; I was strapped to a table in a dimly lit room.


I thought I was going crazy, hallucinating, shaking, frightened, not sleeping, developing phobias.

I checked into a women's facility because I could no longer function as a mother, wife or business partner.

Three weeks in, I started screaming due to deep, horrifying fear.

All I saw and felt was utter darkness.

I prayed and prayed and prayed to be rescued from my internal torture.

LOVE was with me all along; I found comfort and respite at times during the storm.

So the journey begins . . . .

2 comments:

  1. Sometimes I hesitate, because I know that family members are able to read my blog posts. I hate causing conflict with them because it has been so painful for me in the past.

    However, now I realize that telling my story is more important for myself and others than to worry about how my family may react to it.

    I must be true to myself first.

    ReplyDelete