Ending the Silence

* MESSAGE BOARD
* HOME
* DONATIONS
* HOTLINES
* DEFINING ABUSE
* GROWING UP
* SEXUAL ABUSE
* DEPRESSION
* THE HEALING JOURNEY
* CHANGING PATTERNS
* GETTING SUPPORT
* LINKS
* ARTICLES (PIECES WRITTEN BY ME)
* BOOKS
* MY POETRY
* GODS & GODDESSES OF MYTHOLOGY
* GEM MAGICK
* HERBS
* WICCA
* FAIRIES
* SUPERSTITIONS
* ART WITH WORDS
* DISCOVERING DRAGONS
* ANCIENT BELIEFS

The abuse was never our fault! We never asked for it, wanted it, or needed it. It was done to us!

If you have visited this site before then you know that its appearance has changed yet again. I love to hear what you about the changes to the site, if you like them, or prefer the older look, and if you are new, well then you have little to compair this new look with, but in neither case, I hope you enjoy the site and thank you for stopping bye.

Been battered and bruised,
Been lost in the darkness,
Drowning in the sea of sorrow,
But here I am still standing,
Still seeking and striving
To stand tall.

Click on any of the areas listed below to visit those pages. Thank you.

Growing up

Mixed Messages:

Helpful Hints for Assertive Behavior

Why is it so difficult to speak my mind with those who matter most?

Quotes:

Family Game of Denial

Lack of Empathy

Inconsistency & Unpredictability

Role Reversal

The Closed Family System

Growing up isn't easy! I don't think childhood is ever easy, for children are always learning, being guided, and influenced by the world around them, but for those of us growing up in a dysfunctional home with child abuse occuring made childhood riddle with even more uncertainty. Our home life wasn't a place we could escape from the outside world too! We didn't feel safe! We were not protected, but instead, home was probably the worse place we could be!

My own childhood was riddled with uncertainty, unpredictablity, mixed messages, and so much...it was a source of confusion, pain and sorrow. My childhood taught me many things, some of them useful but some of them damaging and everlasting. It affected how I perceived the world, how I viewed myself, and by ability to feel close to others, as well as trusting others.

Our caregivers were our first teachers. They introduced us into the world, guiding us, protecting us, but those of us who survived abuse our caregivers were not the best teachers or guides! In,stead they took advantage of our innocences, leaving us to pick up the shattered pieces of ourselves.

Many of us grew up fast, learning to depend upon ourselves and to distrust before giving others a chance to prove themselves. No matter what we endured as children, we learned to survive, to continue to live, and in some ways are still struggling to recapture what was taken from us.

The commitment to heal is a big commitment, a big commitment to ourselves, to prove to ourselves that we are not what was done to us, that our abusivers can not label us, only we can!

I have been on the healing journey since I spoke about the sexual abuse I was enduring as a child. I was fifteen at the time, by speaking, by shattering the secret, I was left isolated and very much alone. My family essentially turned away from me, making me the bad guy, but I survived and I continue to survive, to challenge myself, to find myself, and to face the issues as they arrive. I have grown a lot since I first began, but still have much to learn, still have affects of the past that still influence how I react and perceive the world around me. I do the best I can, asking only that of myself!

Please feel free to read any of the following that I put togather in this section called "Growing Up".... I hope that in some small way that this material gives you something to think about, and maybe in some small way you leave feeling less alone....

Please take care of ourself and know that you do matter, that you are important!

(Communication in a dsyfunctional Family) 
Communication is a necessary factor in daily life. We use it to convey information, our needs, desires, and wants, yet miscommunication occurs. We have all fallen prey to miscommunication either by misunderstanding or misintrepeting what has been said. Yet, there is another element that can influence ones ability to communicate with others.

For those of us, who have grown up in a dsyfunctional home, communication between family memebers may have been confusing. What I mean by this, is that in healthy families communication was reasonably straightforward, clear, and congruent. Whereas in dsyfunctional households it may have been difficult to decipher your parents or caretakers messages. They may have often said one thing but their tone and body language said something different, making it increasingly difficult for a child to uinderstand what was truly being said.

In my own family, it was what wasn't said, that had the strongest impact, for what was said was commonly that everything was, and yet, nothing was. No adult in the household wanted to admit that alochol was a problem, and that it triggered tension and unstablity within the home or the fact that sexual abuse was occurring. It was difficult to be told that you were loved, while being betrayed and abused. It was difficult to trust your own preceptions, when the adults around you keep telling that nothing was wrong.

Our parents were our first teachers, our first introduction into the complex world of language. So its no wonder then as children we are confronted by mixed messages that one learns to guess at the actual meaning, hoping one is correct. In a dsyfunctional home, you knew that something was going on but might of been toa friad to break the silence or been told that you were wrong.

In families of incongruent communication, denial is a strong influence. If you were sexually abused, you received many mixed messages for your sexual abuser may have told you that you were loved, but don't tell anyone. You might of even been threaten if you told anyone about what was going on.

Confused by mixed messages, you learned to not to trust what was said and instead focused on how it was said. You actually became more aware of all the nonverbal signals, since they were more trustworthy then the words they spoke. You learned to be watchful and cautious.

As an adult you may still find yourself not really listening to those around you, or maybe you are slow to respond. Maybe you even find yourself remaining silent when you might or should have spoken. I know that this is a strong trait that I have, and it is difficult for me to speak my needs and wants to those I care about. It has taken me a long time to discover my verbal voice, and to believe that I can, and have ready right to say what I think, know, and feel, yet sometimes it is still very difficult. All of us can improve our communication skills, from listening to understandin body language and our own reactions.

Suggestions for Improving Communication Skills in Relationships 
Create a context in which your partner can feel free to share feelings, thoughts, fantasies, hurts, and complaints, without the fear that you will condemn, attack, lecture, or simply withdraw. 
                     * We tend to be as critical of others as we are of ourselves. 
                     * Know that you have a right to your feelings as others have a right to theirs.

Working on a relationship always begins with working on ourselves.
                    * Try not to blame all of the relational problems on your partner. Remember, you only have control over changing yourself, not others, and the temptation is to blame others for our problems.
                    * Don't rush yourself into sharing emotionally painful information.
Sometimes it's best to write out your concerns in private then share them with your partner at a later time.

The Sentence-Completion method can help.
Set aside a block of time when you and your partner can talk.  Both of you should take turns completing the following statements on communication:

1. Communication to me means . . .
   2. The hard thing about intimate communication is. . .
   3. Sometimes I withdraw from communication when . . .

It is also beneficial to complete the following statements on self- disclosure.

1. I am a person who . . .
   2. One of the things I'd like people to know about me is . . .
   3. When I try to talk about things that are important to me. . .
   4. When I try to express intimate feelings . . .
   5. If I were more open about expressing my feelings and opinions . . .
   6. When people try to talk with me, sometimes I. . .

Moreover it is useful to explore obstacles to communication by completing these statements.

1. If I weren't concerned about the listener's response. . .
   2. Sometimes I become blocked when . . .
   3. One of the ways I sometimes make it difficult for people to talk to me is . . .

Elaborated Opinion Statements
   1. Begin with a personal pronoun: "I think that..."; "My opinion is..."
   2. Use a compound sentence containing several phrases connected by such words as because, therefore, and but: "I disagree with what you've said because..." or "I agree with your first point, but..."
   3. You do not need to have an original argument in order to express your opinion. You may rephrase, repeat, or comment on what another person has said.
   4. You may agree or disagree with what others say. Or you may change the direction of the conversation: "I think we're ignoring an important point, which is..."

Breaking into an Ongoing Conversation
   1. Listen actively -- nod, look directly at others, say "uh-huh."
   2. Wait for a natural pause in the conversation.
   3. Raise your voice slightly to signal others you wish to speak.
   4. Use your body -- lean forward into the conversational arena; use hand gestures; touch the person to whom you wish to speak.
   5. State an opinion, "I think that..." or ask a question, "What about..."
   6. Use the person's name to gain attention, "Bill, I also think..."
   7. "Excuse me, may I join you?"
   8. "I don't know exactly what you're talking about, but it sounds fascinating."

Resisting Interruption
   1. Raise your voice slightly to signal that you would like to finish your comment.
   2. Repeat your opening phrase so that you don't lose your train of thought, "I think...but I do think that..."
   3. Continue talking without hesitation; engage in parallel talking for a short while.
   4. Don't look at the interrupter; look at those who are attentive.
   5. Ask the interrupter to wait until you have finished your statement, "I think the best thing to do would... please wait a minute... would be to start a new program."
   6. Hold up your hand or touch the person to signal that you would like the interrupter to stop.
   7. Pause briefly, then quickly resume your comment, "I think that... the new program idea is a good one."
   8. If interruption is a question, briefly reply and resume comment.
   9. "I'll be back to that in a minute."
  10. If you do not want to agree to the person's original request, but still desire to help her/him out, offer a compromise: "I will not be able to baby sit the whole afternoon, but I can sit for two hours."
  11. You can change your mind and say "no" to a request you originally said "yes" to. All the above applies to your change of mind.

Communication, why does it seem that as a survivor I have problems with communication, with being able to speak what is most important to me to those who are closest to me? Is it truly that I am just unable to speak or does the problem go much deeper then that? For me, I have always had a problem speaking my mind to those closest to me, those who are most important to me at least verbal, but why? Does it stem souly from the fact that I was unable to speak my mind as a child, and that over and over throughout my childhood I was always told what I knew, thought, or felt was wrong? Partly, but it is more then just a simple problem of being able to communicate face to face.

Looking into the problem, or looking even more closely at myself. I know that I am capable of speaking my mind at least in my writing and yet, why can't I bring that forth into the verbal world in which I live in. I have the verbal skills to do so, and yet, for the most part I do not speak my mind with those closest to me. I do not share with them my inner struggles, opinions, ideas, or thoughts. Is it a factor or trust or is it simply fear, or maybe a combination of the two?

Essentially, I believe it is a combination of factors, and maybe knowing these factors is the beginning of being able to change things. As a child, I grew up in a home where speaking one's mind was frowned upon, where the adults around me believed that a child's place was to be seen but never heard, that whatever I had to say never had any weigh or importance. I wasn't allowed to speak unless I was spoken too, and if I did speak, most of the time I was punished for it by being teased, called stipud, or just not listened too.

As children, we reflect our ideas, thoughts, and emotions against those who are our guardians and when they are unable to reflect them back, to give them a name or to understand them, we left confused and lost as children. Yet, hoe does one truly recapture what has been lost?

Sometimes during my adult life I feel as though many of the same things that were reflected back at me as child exist today. I know that the reason I have such a difficult time speaking what matters most to those closest to me is fear, fear of being teased, of being called stipud, of having them disguarded, labeled useless, of being laughed at, and being not understood. Even though I know this, and that I know that for the most part those who matter will listen to me, there are times when I return to being that lost little girl without a voice. This is something I truly struggle with for how can I have my needs meet if I can not ask for them, for they can not read my mind.

In your family did they play the denial game? Did no one acknowledge what was going on; not the verbal, emotional, physical, sexual abuse or the neglect? Did they tell you that what you saw, knew, or felt was wrong? Did they tell you everything was alright or that you were just being too sensitive or just misunderstanding the situation? I know my family did, they always told me I was just being too sensitive or that what I was seeing wasn't happening, that there was nothing wrong. If yours did the same, then you learned to deny the truth, first to your parents, then to others, and finally to yourself.

As a child, you completely depended upon their love, nurturing and caretaking. They provided you with shelter, clothes, and food. They were your first teachers about life. A child learns from their parents, accepting their views, and reflecting their emotions off their caretakers, and yet, a child in a dsyfunctional envirnoment can't successful do this. No healthy role model existed for you. Thus, in order to endure the mistreatments, you madee excuses, compromises. The main compromise you accepted was denial, and you fell into the family's game of denial.

You learned your perceptions were wrong, untruthful, or lies. Thus, you distrusted yourself. For as a child, you believed as all children do, that the world revolves around them, for as a child gets older they begin to understand that life doesn't, but for a child of dsyfunctional family you learn that if something is wrong it must be you and not your parents. Of cousre, they reforced your belief that your perceptions were wrong by telling you everything was alright when it wasn't; by telling you what you saw, knew and felt was a lie. To survive, you accepted the fact that their version of reality was correct for how could it be otherwise, they were the adults?

My own family could come close to winning a gold medal if the family game of denial was an olympic event. Hard to imagine, probably not if you come from a dsyfunctional family. Essentially your own family could give mine a run for the gold, but the truth of matter is that as adults we carried this skill with ourselves. We were taught that preceptions lie, if they do, how could we ever trust them? We can't, thus we seek outside sources to reassure us, to tell us we are okay, that we are making the correct decision. I'm no different, and find myself still struggling with this issue, the belief that what I know, see and felt is the truth for me.

In my family extended members, who thought they were helping (probably knew no other way) reforced the illusion that everything was alright. My stepfather was a drunk, and I have no memories of him ever being sober. He wasn't physically abusive per say, but he was verbally abusive to himself in front of us and to us. By the time I was seven, the verbal abuse became sexual as he introduced me to sex. To this day, he believes it was his place to be my teacher and that he did nothing wrong, but was only doing what I needed to learn. No one in family acknowledge that he was a drunk, going as far as my grandparents employing him, overlooking his flaws, loaning them money, and enabling him to continuing being a drunk. In my family, it was normal for him to be drunk, it just simply was the way things were.

Only it wasn't just my stepfather, for my mother was an untreated manic depression.(who is now, in treatment after my younger brother's suicide two years ago) She never showed us affection, never told us she loved us, no hugs or kisses, not even when we stumbled and hurt ourselves as all kids do. Physical touching never occurred in my family unless it was my stepfather molesting me, for my mother always pushed us away. The house was always a neglected, and by the time I was seven most chores had been passed to me, and yet, if things were not prefect I was screamed at, and forced to do them over and over. I can remember one night I had made dinner, a dinner of spaghti and was proud of myself, but since I had burned the hamburg a little it was garbage. My mother threw it out, and told us we would have to go hungry due to my failure. It wasn't the only time it had happened, but it was the normal, and due to finically struggles, many nights my siblings and me went hungry while our parents ate. My mother would spend hours just sitting in her chair reading, leaving us alone, and unattended. Again, no one admitted that anything was wrong, but instead made excuses and overlooked the problems, pretending that we were one big happy family.

Thus, being a child how could I admit that something was wrong when no else did. I couldn't, being a child who knew she was a mistake, abondoned by my birth father I assumed it had to be me. It was my fault that my mother was the way she was, and my fault that my stepfather molested and raped me. I learned that my perceptions were wrong, for what other chioce did I have? I carried this learned lesson with me.

Even after I spoke about the sexual abuse my family continued to play the game of denial. They still acted as if we one bug happy family that nothing had changed, that nothing had happened. It was as if even though I spoke the truth, no one else could see the truth or would, and thus, they continued to exist like they have always, but for me, it was the beginning to see that I could be right. For others, outside my family believed me, and held the same preceptions that I had. For me, that was the beginning of my healing, the beginning of learning how to trust myself that my parents were wrong and could be wrong. It was a powerful discovery, and slowly opened my eyes, and changed my life for the better.

But it was a slow process with me stumbling, and making mistakes along the way. Since I mistrusted myself, and believed that sex meant love and affection for my stepfather ws the only person to give me any, my first few adult relationships were unhealthy if not abusive. I found myself alone, isolated and lost, unable to function or knowing how to function in the adult world, even though as a child I had been like an adult, it wasn't the same. I enlisted in the military which provided me rules and guidelines to follow with time I learned to adjust and thrive in the envirnoment, but what helped me most was the fact that I became pregnant. In reality, the man who got me pregnant was abusive, physical and verbal. Due to my own ability to deattachment from emotional attachments I walked away from him, knowing that I would raise my daughter alone. I was frightened, and yet I knew I would do anything to protect my child, and provide her with a healthy envirnoment then what I had. I had my own little one to nurture, care for, and love. She needed me, needed me to be strong and to face my fears. She helped to drive me onward, to change, and to take care of myself.

Today, I just hope that I have provided my daughter with what she needed, and gave her the tools to have a happy life. I know that I did the best I could, and that I continue to do the best I can do. I have done my best to ensure that I am not playing the game of denial with my children, granted they don't need to know every detail, but when I am in a bad mood, or having a bad day, I tell them I am. Thus, when they perceive something is wrong, I try to reassure them that yes something is wrong but I am taking care of it, and that everything will be okay. I guess all I can do is the best I can, but the family game of denial can end, one step at a time.

Thank you for listening and reading this. Take care everyone.

Empathy is the ability to be sensitive and responsive to another's feelings and needs. It is not sympathy nor is it agreeing with the other person, but it is the ability to "walk in another's moccasins", to feel what the other person feels. It's only when you have empathy that you can recongize another person as a human being just like yourself, one worthy of being treated with respect rather than as an object. However, many survivors of child abuse did not receive this from their caretakers or parents as a child. No, instead you probably heard "I'll give you something to cry about" or something similar.

Parents in a functional family understand that their children are capable of different things at different stages of their development. Parents make allowance for the child and do not expect them to have adult-like behavior, however in some families, such as my own this was not the case. I was expected and treated like an adult at a very early age, and many times it was left to me to act as the voice of reason and responsiblity. At an early I had assumed an adult role by caring for the families' needs, and if I failed or made a mistake it was dealt with harshly. I was not allowed to misbehave, to act up, for I was expected to be quiet, to be prefect, a model child.

If your family was similar to mine, then your parents did not empathize with you. They expected a great deal from you, more then what you were able to provide. For myself, I acted older then what I was and felt often like an adult trapped in child's body. Instead of my mother caring for me, and meeting my needs, it was me meeting her needs and caring for her and my siblings.

I can recall one time when I had been excited about a great test score on a test and I had rushed home wanting to share my excitement, and yet, my mother wanted no part of it, for as soon as I walked through the door she was more worried about what had not been done then the news I had wanted to share with her. I remember how I felt rejected as I followed her instructions and began cleaning the house. Another time, I had spent a lot of time and energy cleaning the house because I wanted to have a friend over to play, but at last minute the freind cancelled. I can remember how my mother stood there, and instead of understanding how I felt, she just laughed and pointed out all the things I had missed.

She had never understood me, and had never taken the time to even try. In my household, it was a battle for me to receive anything that I wanted. In the end, I had to pick my battles, judging if it was something I truly needed or wanted in order to survive the battle. Nothing had been easily given in my childhood home. Even though I had learned to understand the feelings and the needs of others, I had never learned much about my own. I had grown up believing that what everyone else's needs and what they felt was always more important then my own.

To this day, I probably understand more about my mother particularly then she ever understood about me. She still thinks of herself, her needs and feelings over others, if she can even relate to what others may be feeling. Granted, I am glad that I have the ability to empathy with others, but my problem is the fact that at times I do so too much, holding them over my own.

As a child, we were vulnerable. We had feelings and needs that no one understood. Our needs were not being meet. We had no one who was there for us. No one to listen to us, to support us, to be there for us.

Life in an abusive home can be like a roller coaster ride; full of inconsistency and unpredictability." As survivors of child abuse we did not have a stable home. The home was not a a source of stability but instead a place of chaos and turbulence. The home probably did not have set routines or consistency in the rules. It was not a safe refuge from the external world, but instead it was probably the worse place to be. Your parents may not have been provided good leadership. The rules were probably unclear and often broken or changed. Since your parents or guardians reacted readily to upsets you often had to guess what they would do next. As a child you were unable to predict with any certainty whether they would be there for you, either physically or emotionally.

My own childhood home was not a source of stablity with an alcoholic stepfather and an emotionally unavailable mother, instead it was riddled with unpredictability and unstable rules. It was common to have the rules changed to fit their moods and to fit the child for what was a punishment or okay for one didn't mean that it was for another. Often times I did not know what I would find when I came home from school. I can remember how I dreaded the ride home from school, not wanting to go home and it was even worse on Friday's, knowing that the weekend was here. For me, school was a place of stability and predictablity. It was in school that I knew what was expected of me and what I needed to do there, but at home, I never knew. I never knew if it was going to be a peaceful day or one one riddle with conflict.

To this day, I do not like surpises and do not like things throw at me, but instead prefer to have things planned or as much as possible know what I can expect. The unknown to me is frightening and unsettling. I am not one who does something on the spur of a moment, but I know that an elemental of the unknown will always exist in life, and that everything can not be controlled. In the end, I know that I can do only the best I can and hope to handle each situation as they arise, but again, the unpredictability of life is still frightening and troubling to me.

A drug addict's child struggles to get his younger brothers and sisters ready for school. A young beauty-pageant contestant beams at her mom, who is proud to call her daughter her best friend. A straight-A student comes home and starts supper, knowing she'll spend the evening listening to her dad or mom talk about his/her troubled personal life. A daughter who prepares for bed knowing that her father will visit her sometimes during the night or a daughter who assumes the role of mother in the family.

On the surface, these young people might seem to have little in common. But on a deeper level they do. All these children have been "parentified," or forced into adult roles too early. And all three can expect to bear emotional scars in adulthood, these experts say.

The children can be saddled with practical burdens, such as having to run a household and raise siblings, or emotional ones, such as serving as a parent's confidant and protector. When parents won't be parents, children are robbed of childhood. And they often grow up trying to meet everyone else's needs, feeling they can only be loved for what they accomplish.

In my own home as a child, I assumed the role of mother and care giver. It was me who made the meals, made sure my siblings ate, bathed, and were prepared for school for the next day as well as listening to mother's problems and dealing with the sexual attentions of my stepfather. In a sense at an early age I had become my mother's best friend, my stepfather's spouse, and my sibling's mother, but I had been a child, a child walking in an adult's shoes.  I took on the role of caring for everyone's elses needs without truly discovering my own, for I had little energy or time to care for myself.

I can remember doing the best I could, trying to keep the house clean and to meet everyone's needs, but when the household was in chaos, which it was often times, I would feel like a failure as if there was soemthing more I should have been doing that wasn't. I did not know how to make everyone happy, and now, as an adult I know that it was impossible for me to be able to do. However, at the time I believe that I could and would try harder every day, every time to get things right and ending up feeling more and more like failure when I was unable to meet the goal I had set for myself.

In my household, it was me, the child who set the boundaries on myself and my siblings. It was me who had the responsibility of the household, but it was not a role I should have had as a child nor was it a role that I could succeed at. In a sense, I am still anger at what I lost for I lost the chance and the ability to be a child, but now as an adult I am trying to capture that by spending time with my own children such as when we go to the park, I join them in their games and act as if I am the child too, enjoying the park, the games and swings. In a sense, my child have allow me to recapture a small part of what I lost and they have taught me how to have fun that life isn't always serious, but it isn't easy and I take responsibility heavy. It is difficult for me not to take on more then I can handle because somehow I believe that if someone is telling me I must do something then I feel I must since theyu belive I can, if that makes any sense and I know that this attitude stems from my childhood for I had to step into roles that were never meant for a child to have and I was given little choice in succeed or failing for no one else was going to step up to the plate but me.

A healthy family is an open system in the sense that its members interact with the larger community and are involved with a larger world than just that of the family. The parents are involved in their children's education and extra activites and in the community itself. They have friends and neighbors they interact with and share thing with. However, in many homes of child abuse the opposite is true. The family is isolated, disconnected from the community either in physical location or emotionally and may have the attitude of them against the world.

I know that this was true for my own family. My family lived physically isolated from the outside world, and friends were never allowed to come to the house. My stepfather kept us isolated, disliking visitor and embrassing us in public or if anyone ever came to the house or called. My mother was not much better since she had no friends of her own and interact with no one outside of the family.

As a child, I was embrassed to have anyone come to house, always fearful of what it would be like or what would happen. I was frightened that my stepfather would say inapprocate things and that whatever friendship I might have had would vanish. To be able to do things outside of the home was always battle, always a fight and struggle and thus I learned early to pick my battles and fight for what I really wanted, which wasn't often. 
I can still remember when I had spoke about the sexually abuse when I was fifteen years old. I had known that the police and social worker would be at the house to arrest my stepfather, but the whole time on the bus ride home I was scared, terrified of what I would find and what would happen to me, my mother, to the family.

The thing that hurt me the most besides my mother's actions was my stepfather's comments. He had said "Why are you bothering me? I committed no crime." In my eyes even then, he had committed a crime, but my mother felt as he did, telling me that I just after attention and that I was making everything up. She had choosen him over me, and in the end, nothing really changed in my household except now, it was up to me to make sure that I was never left alone with him. However, my mother didn't make this easy for me, since at the same time she started working third shift and left me alone with him and my siblings. Essentially, the family had reenforced the attitude of them against the world and increasing my sense of isolation, of a closed family system, for speaking what was truth, had changed nothing.

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