Life on the hill: September 2011

Sunday, September 18, 2011

I gave away my heart...

11 years ago, as my world started to unravel, and in a desperate need to try an understand what was going on inside of me I went away for a week to a healing retreat Mayumarri , a safe place to explore the effects of childhood abuse. For me it was the place that I stopped trying to keep the lid on my Pandora's box that I had held and hidden deep deep down inside, and let it burst open, letting all the secrets, fear, hurt and tears out. I wish I could say it was the place where...

digging deep

I'm finding it hard to write at the moment. My heart is sore, and all I want to say is Life is fucked and continue on in my little pity party that I'm having. My head said to me this morning "suck it up princess - you have more to be grateful for then a lot of people"... which made me think about gratitude, perspective and not giving in to the black dog. so out of the heart ache that I have been feeling for the last couple of weeks what do I have to be grateful for.... - my...

knowledge is empowering vs ignorance is bliss....

heart sore, body sore, head spinning - exhausted... physically, emotionally, mentally... in a state of disassociativeness This will probably make no sense - but it does to me. I've been pondering this all day. I'm not sure what is worse.... having a panic attack, being triggered into trauma and cognitively understanding what is going on, or having those things happen and not understanding why or where it was coming from. case of knowledge is empowering vs ignorance is bliss.... because right...

15 years...

The year I turned 15 I moved from living with my paternal grandmother - who started the day with a vegemite jar full of brandy, and would continue consuming the bottle through out the day - to living with my abusive father and his new wife and her children. Frying pan to fire.... I had hoped that because he was newly remarried that the history of abuse would cease... how wrong was I. He loved an audience. Comes with the territory of being an entertainer I guess. Him and his wife would come home...

12am my eyes shot open. My skin was prickly, crawling. I ripped off my jewellery in the hope of some relief... none came. The prickling, the crawling of my skin intensified. I was wrapped up in the arms of M, and even this didn't provide comfort. I didn't want to be touched. I wanted to run... get in the car and drive. Where - it didn't matter. I untangled myself from his embrace on the pre-tense of having to go to the toilet, where I sat, reached into my bag of tricks to try and stop myself...