Monday, September 23, 2013

On the Subject of Repentence

The cowardice and narcissistic approach taken by the twisted man who was once a husband and father to my children, is still something that I have trouble setting aside.

I was at a meeting for people who are in different stages of psychological rehabilitation. Many of the members have stories that are just as awful as mine or sad to say, worse. We are all trying to learn from each other and to speak about the experiences that have so marked us in life. Someone brought up the subject of forgiveness, loving your enemies and showing compassion even if the person who wronged you is unrepentent.

I listen to people that say these things with the knowledge that more than likely, they were never raped or had their children molested. Perhaps, mental abuse was never in their life, so to them, speaking on the subject of forgiveness seems so easy. I am not criticizing....but trying to understand.

Yet there is another side. The Lord himself tells us we must come to Him in repentence in order to be forgiven. We must admit our sinfulness and ask Him for mercy. Then and only then, can the Lord shape us into a useful vessel.

If I am to follow Christ, whether I am willing to forgive someone who abused my children and me, there can be no true change of heart or mind for the offender unless he is made to know and feel the damge he has inflicted. It is because of the offender's indifference, his lack of caring, his fear of being brought out as the guilty one that I cannot yet forgive him. I cannot merely sweep under the rug the awful things he had put my children through. Such an act would be acceptance of the offense and so very unfair to myself and to my children.


No, I do not hate the man....and I don't have to allow bygones to be bygones

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Trying To Pass The Hurdles

     Sometimes the past chases me down and has me see how history repeats itself through my children. I wonder sometimes,is it a genetic predisposition? Is the Lord showing me how life was for my parents when I was a rebellious young teen? There are so many times when I look at my children and the things they do or have done, only to think to myself, "Yes, I remember feeling that way. I remember doing the same things and getting in trouble the same way!"

     It's an odd place to be in my fifties. I can relate so well to what my child is going through and yet, I have to keep that seperation of being a mother not an equal. Everytime I talk to my girls, they bring things up from the past that they have been struggling with inside themselves. I too still struggle. I tell myself, "Get over it. You are in a different place and a different life now. Don't keep looking back!" It is reality though. One that hits me in the face every so often-I am the product of the totality of my experiences. What can I learn? What do I let go?

     My children who grew up in an abusive family situation are beginning to straighten up. I am being pushed to the limit at school and I think many times, I am not such a good wife. I stay up too late, I have a tendency to feel terribly insecure and depressed at times.
I'm not such a good mother because I have trouble setting boundaries. I'm not such a good student. I allow family to take too much time when I should be studying.

     The list goes on continually.
It is hard to be strong and even harder to admit weakness. Yet, as a Christian first, that is my duty. I have to accept my weakness and my character as falling short because it is then that I need God the most and it is then that He helps the most.

      I'm getting a little older every day. I thought that by now, I would feel at peace with my self. It's not to be it seems. I look at my girls and wonder how will they end up? Better balanced I hope. I pray they will come to a place of self-acceptance but more than that....accepting that where they lack, Christ can make all the difference.
      

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Living A Lie


 




I had an interesting conversation with my daughter the other day. She had called her grandmother (paternal side) to find out how she was doing after a medical procedure. While my daughter was talking to her, my ex-sister-in-law took the phone from her mother and asked if my daughter wanted to talk to 'Daddy'...this is the same daddy that molested my daughter when she was only 8 or 9. My daughter was puzzled as she knows that the molester is to have NO CONTACT at all with the minor children. She knew that someone could get into trouble so she said no and the ex's sister questioned her as to why. Well, my daughter, who is only 13, thought it best not to discuss the incident of sexual abuse with her, so she just told her that since her parents were divorced, it might be better if she didn't and that was the end of that.

I surmised that, since I am not on speaking terms with my ex's family, he probably never divulged to them what really happened ...of course,that is understandable. He was the apple of his momma's eye.

 After my daughter told me about the conversation, I started feeling frustrated. I WANTED his family to know the truth. Just sitting here writing to all of you right now, makes me angry about him. I want the truth out and I want him to know it's out AND I want to be believed! I have to keep reminding myself, God knows what he's done. I need to just move on. Yet it's SO difficult! God help me.

I don't know why I didn't see the red flags ....those signs that the father of my children, the man I had been married to was and is, a liar. He was known for his exaggerations. Well, maybe most people didn't realize it at the time but we did. The kids and I. He was also dishonest in many other ways. He would lie to people about doing something...like sending them money toward a debt he owed....but he never would. He was the most likely to go back on his promises. He wouldn't pay people, he would take and not return items, money....a lot of different things. Someone like my ex, who is a repeat offender becomes known for his character flaws yet when he went behind the pulpit and preached or cried, people would be charmed by him and forget his slights.

I'd like to be able to regurgitate all the poison inside of me. I'm often worried that my life with the cult-leader will always be etched into my brain.I pray that at some point, I can step away from all the bad memories and the anger. It reeks to me of  of rottenness...like the smell of road kill as you are driving nearby. It wafts by every now and then, corrupting the senses as it goes.

I hope and pray I can stop inhaling it's odor. 




Thursday, August 8, 2013

Stepford Wife Syndrome

I found a blog today written by a man who extraordinarily enough understood what some abusive churches do to the women in their congregation. It's a good article, please share it:

The Effects Of Spiritual Abuse On Women


Paula Hyles...Maybe 'old news' But Still Relative To The Mess In These Baptist Cults
Part II

David Hyles and family

     In my life, it was much the same...I was an accessory. The difference between myself and the Stepford's of the IFB was this: I wasn't raised within the IFB culture. For 26 years of my life, I wasn't taught what I had to believe except that my parents called our family 'Christian.' It was a facade though. Going to church was a holiday event mostly. There was no teaching going on so aside from agreeing that I believed in God, I really had no settled idea of what that was supposed to mean. I went into the whole IFB cultic view with eyes wide open and my mind was hungrily gobbling everything my pastor thought and taught. I had nothing to compare my teachings with, I believed!

Our pastor was not a megalomaniac as my ex-husband later became. He was basically a shy man but knew his Bible well and taught the IFB doctrines impressively. We didn't have a problem between wearing dresses or pants, it wasn't a big deal. I could still wear my Sunday best at church and not be criticized for jeans any other time.

It wasn't until a few years had passed and Mike was pastoring his own congregants that things got crazier and crazier. The rules would change every other week. Hair had to be long on women, short on men, no shorts on either sex ever, no pants on women, men had to dress conservatively, no jewelry on the guys. Later it evolved into not eating pork or shellfish, no work on Sunday and no going out until Sunday service was over.

Mike had developed a following....(I think he wanted to be as popular as Hyles) so he would mingle and sit with others after church during fellowship....I was alone feeling insignificant.I became disillusioned. There were a lot of single, divorced men in our congregation, Some were sex offenders or were living double lives. Those that were married had very one-sided relationships . Women were there to serve, whether it was sex or food it didn't matter. IFB wives were simply accessories to make the IFB husbands look good.  We were the faces of the family unit. It's a sick, twisted view of a godly relationship that was to be equal in love and repect toward each other. Somehow, it all became a lie!












Sunday, July 21, 2013

Resist The Devil And He Will Flee...

 As I have walked on my path to healing and rehabilitation, being open and unashamed seemed to be the best way to forgive myself and to continue getting stronger in the process. A lot of people questioned me about my relationship with 'Pastor' Slattery. Wasn't I unfaithful to him and that's why my kids were sent to my daughter's home to live for a year? No. Wasn't he driven to molestation due to my not fulfilling his needs as a wife? Again, NO!

Molesting children is a sick practice that has nothing to do with whether or not I was a good wife. It had nothing to do with my past relationship to my present husband. Anyone that thinks that needs to have their own head examined!

If there is any reason for what happened, it probably had more to do with the ex-Pastor's formative years, way before I ever laid eyes on him.

 There was, according to his own testimony, pornography around him as he was growing up, coupled with parents who didn't get along and a long history of unfaithfulness and alcoholism within the family. Something happened that twisted him enough that he acted out on these sick impulses toward his own kids. Unfortunately, I didn't see the signs.

(For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth;) Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord. And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them. For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret. 
(Ephesians 5:9-12)

One of my daughters said to me the other day, "There isn't a day that I don't think about how abusive he (Slattery) could be." I know....me too. However it is getting easier for me to pass those hurdles. I have learned a lot about child molesters. I have learned to tell the difference between what is 'normal' and what is not. You see, with my background, it was truly hard for me to see those boundaries. I have to remember that and be glad for the progress I've made.

But all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light: for whatsoever doth make manifest is light. Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light. See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, Redeeming the time, because the days are evil. 
(Ephesians 5:13-16)

As far as being open and honest about the whole thing, well...I am quite a bit more circumspect in my day to day dealings. My daughters are all beautiful, young women and though I cannot any longer protect the older ones, I can do what I can with the ones living home. Because boundaries were not taught throughout their growing up years, I have to try and teach them what is ok and what is not. This can be a challenge as young teens can certainly be magnets to young men who are over the legal age, and to those who are creepy pedophiles that stare at their backsides when they walk.

                                                                                                            What works for me is to publicly call the pervert, the predator... out. Yes, it may seem undignified to some of you yet to me, some 40-ish creeper staring at my daughter like she's a tasty treat is much more disturbing! I am no longer afraid or embarrassed to draw attention to these perverts. Remember, PERVERTS is what they are! I have been known, on more than one occasion, to say something along the lines of," Hey, you must be a pervert...my kid is only__teen ! I see you checking her out! You must be a pedophile!"  It may not solve the problem forever but it nips it in the bud for a bit. Not even a pedo wants to be publicly embarrassed like that. My guess is, most people either ignore the guy or are fearful of facing him. I have seen that look of shock when I apprehend the demons.

The Bible has a verse that reminds me not to fear these pedophile devils, who have hearts filled with lust for a child,: Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
(James 4:7)

That is what I aim to do.
                                                                                 


Sunday, July 14, 2013

An Open Letter To Parents With Sexually Abused Children

Dear Parents,
I do not claim expertise on the subject of dealing with children who have been abused sexually, spiritually or emotionally. I would like to share with you my experiences in hope that it will help somehow in your situation.  There are several things that seem to be key in helping a child to get on with their lives after trauma:

  1. It is of the utmost importance that you be PATIENT with your child. It may be that your son or daughter are simply not ready to disclose everything that happened right away. Give them time. This is especially true if the kids are older or were molested a long time ago and are just beginning to open up.
  2. Be the someone that your kids can trust. Don't spread what they disclose to just anybody without talking to the injured party. Someone mentioned our incident to a staff member of a local restaraunt who had the audacity to walk up to my kids in the middle of ordering and ask them about their dad!
  3. Realize that there is usually shame and a sense of false guilt involved with a child who has been abused. It's important to let them know, even if it's a million times over, they were not at fault. Responsibility should always rest on the shoulders of the adult offender.
  4. Let your child grieve. Sometimes the best way to heal is to cry. Tears can be of benefit but tears can also mean depression and suicidal thoughts. Be there to soothe your child and make them feel loved and safe. NEVER IGNORE THEM WHILE THEY ARE GRIEVING. Sit with them, give them a hug but don't rush them. The worst that anyone can say in this situation is, "Stop crying! Get over it!"
  5. Find help for the child and yourself. Abuse is a hard problem to deal with even if the abuser is long gone. It's good to have someone outside of the situation counsel your child and it's important to allow yourself to get help as well. Parenting a hurting child can be very stressful.
  6. The last point I would like to make is-don't be judgemental! Allow dialogue to flow when your child is ready. Listen but don't interrupt. No matter how disgusted or upset you get at what your child confides in you, show them you are accepting of them as they are and will love them no matter what.
Pray for yourself, your child and even the offender-let God show you the way of truth, light and mercy. Nothing is impossible for Him, nothing is too hard.
Show your child the unlimited love God has for His own by being a channel for that same love and kindness.

Yelena


Thursday, July 11, 2013

Turn Fear To Anger...Then Let It Go

Fear was thinking I was going to die while I lay in the back of a van being repeatedly raped.

Fear was thinking I might not see my children with me ever again.

Fear was thinking I might lose my soul-mate because my life was too crazy, chaotic....I was in fear continually!

To my older daughters, fear is thinking they may have to deal with their father once again. 

That he might get them alone.

That he might decide to come in to the restaraunt in which my daughter works in, have a seat and buy a meal and stare at her while she is working.

It was surprising to me that my children exchanged their bewilderment about their father to fear.

Being fearful to the point of emotional bondage serves
no purpose...

I learned a lesson and I have put it into practice:

                                                       FEAR is a waste...

It stunts growth...

It kills the spirit..

It bathes you in paranoia until you shrivel up and disappear.

Take that fear and turn it into ANGER!

Make it loud and long

Tear away at the fabric of fearfulness and allow yourself to replace it with a healthy dose of anger;

for the child within you that has been frightened, needs you to chase the shadows away.

To the pedophile, the abuser, you are just another dependent child. 

That is how he gets you, alone and tired...

Worn down and threatened by his lies.

Show no fear

only rage at the vileness of his or her actions 

and EXPOSE him .

Let the world know about the animal that he  truly is.


                                                        


Sunday, June 30, 2013

Being 'Mental'...Part Of Faulty Chemistry Or Are The IFB Correct?

                       
, If you were to look at several photographs from my childhood, you would sometimes see a girl with a face that reflects dark emotions: a mix of sadness, flatness, empty of spirit and purpose. 

I've had several counselors, psychologists and doctors, ask me when did I first feel depressed? I tell them that I cannot ever remember feeling not depressed. I suppose there were times of happiness, I'm sure there were but the feelings of depression were always close by.

The research seems to point to chemical imbalances within the brain. Sometimes these are triggered by a trauma but in my case, I think it's been hereditarily passed on.  I may have mentioned how my mother was suffering from mental illness. A lot of it worsened with her oncoming dementia which overtook her in her elderly years but before that, when I was very young, I remember her acting erratically, paranoid and I sensed that there was something 'off.'  

My father, I am sure had some sort of anxiety disorder. He was constantly uneasy, on edge, abusive and controlling. His mother, the only grandmother I ever knew, was suspicious and irritable yet she didn't seem to have the same percentage of angst.

They say children learn what they live. It's absolutely true. I am sure that I felt much negativity due to the atmosphere at home. If that is how I grew up, it stands to reason that my moods would be negative. My dependency on people (a learned behavior-my mother was terribly over-protective)and feeling stigmatized by the 'normal' people outside of my family taught me to withdraw into a shell.
  I still prefer the shell. I am able though, to put on my sociable self and mix when needed, however that is not something I usually choose to do. Invite me over your friends' house and I will have anxiety attacks until the visit is over.

Why bring all this up? Because so many of us in my family have real stability problems. Some, I know is learned, traumatic ...yet, some must be inherited. 

When I was part of the IFB cult, I was taught that mental illness is always caused by:
  1. Sin in my life, or
  2. The Devil
There was never an in-between.

 Now, I have to say that after my second marriage, when I was first converted, I was quite happy.  I had a peace about me that could only have come from knowing my burdens were carried by Jesus and He blessed me in many ways.

The problems arose later when I realized that there was a strong faction of men within the church who were involved in less than godly behavior. That was years after my conversion, as I matured in my faith.  I believe when you grow in faith, God opens your eyes a little more to strengthen you . The more trouble I experienced, the closer I clung to His word.

When my ex-husband became a pastor and then began to little-by-little become a controlling deviant, there was no doubt, I swallowed much of my sensibility. I became an automaton. A praying, obedient-to-my husband, automaton .

Eventually, the old shadow of depression came back over me. I kept begging God to show me what to do. To make my husband more attentive. To help us with our home. The crying continued secretly, for years. I knew that if I thought there was something wrong with my mind or that I blamed my then husband, I would be accused of being unfaithful to the Lord or possibly demonically possessed. So, I blamed myself. I kept my feelings repressed...hidden-and waited.

One of the things I had to come to an understanding of in my process of recovery, was the knowledge that God was forcing me unto another path. I wasn't supposed to be boxed-up in some megalomaniac's dream. I was supposed to follow a simple plan. It had nothing to do with control or a man's power over me. It had to do with breaking free, acceptance and the love and understanding of a good man .

Depression is still in the shadows. My life is far better now then how it was just a few years ago. Sanity, I found, is an understanding of insanity. The knowledge that sometimes, the Lord gives us a heaviness in our heart that will always haunt...always crouch in the dark. Acknowledging that I have a 'mental' problem has helped me to deal with resources for recovery. Counseling and medication, education...yes, and prayer! I see these now as helpful ways to heal that God has made available to me.

It's no wonder that there are so many sick-minded people filling the pews in IFB churches. God is trying to show freedom and yet, those involved in IFB thinking are full of imprisonment. If you weren't sick when you joined up, you would be in time.

Now that I understand that the way I am is not a lack of godliness or some demonic scam to control me, I can recognize that I am a fallible human being. A woman who is able to see my past as a series of misunderstandings, mistakes and vulnerabilities but is learning to forgive herself as God has forgiven me. The trauma I have felt, the pain I still deal with at times are all part of who I am. It is also what keeps me close to my Lord.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Memories Triggered About Homeschool


I want to take a moment and say for the record that I am not against homeschool. I think if a  parent feels they can do the job and the child is progressing, then everybody is happy. It is when a parent is put under much pressure to do the job by her church, her husband and the 'Christian homeschool community' that it becomes a prescription for disaster. 


I've been reading a book recommended by an online friend called 'I Fired God.' by Jocelyn R. Zichterman.
It's an interesting account of a woman who grows up in an IFB home and marries an IFB educator.
I'm not done with the book yet. My time is limited....BUT, I can certainly say that her accounts of abuses, people whose philosophy she followed and types of extremes she lived under, are all things I can relate to a great deal.

I just finished the chapter about her homeschooling with her children. The books she ordered and the curriculum she used was ALOT like what I tried with my children. Her story made me remember how inept I had felt, how I started making excuses about why my kids were having difficulties and the lies that caused resentment toward my ex-husband.


I was thrown in to the homeschool world in the late 1980's. My older daughter was pulled out of middle school when there was some question about what she was being taught in a family living class. Just like that, one day, after school had dismissed for the summer, I was told by my then husband that I HAD to pull her out of school so she would not be corrupted by the world. Eventually, her younger sister would also become a homeschooled child.

I was in a state of panic but my several years of IFB training taught me not to argue but to submit totally to my husband's wishes. After much prayer I started to look into curriculums. I threw together what I could and at the time, Mike did help (if you want to call it that) by forcing them to listen to his loooong, drawn out lectures Eventually, the teaching became my job...my sole job.

As the additional children came along, the homeschooling expanded. I became a bit more knowlegable of how education at home-the IFB way- was to happen. I pored over workbooks and old textbooks that would employ the least modern way to learn. I went from catalogue to book sales and even tried some outside resources.

My oldest, Missy, had the opportunity to graduate out of a Christian high school and move on to art school . However, the challenge was just beginning for the rest of them. I was reminded again and again that homeschool was the only way I could really be right with God, from the pulpit and at home. At this point, I surrendered willingly to the idea that I would always have to do this and so I tried hard to make the most of it.

I had two things going against me in this never-ending project: my now ex-husband Mike and my inability to get past the burn-out I was feeling. I would very often have all the children seated after breakfast, we'd start our lesson,s then Mike would come in and start pulling kids from the table to help him work. My son and his younger sister seemed to be the ones who were pulled day after day. When I protested, Mike would tell me to pack up their schoolwork for them and he would oversee their studies in-between landscaping. THAT never happened.

My children began to officially struggle and I felt helpless and trapped in a no-win cycle. I began to dread homeschooling my children. I knew it would take increasing amounts of the energy I lacked. I wanted to hide and not feel guilty about it.

That is one of the most anguishing feelings I had. I knew I was failing the whole teaching thing yet my depression began to keep me from functioning. It was hard to keep the house clean and orderly. The kids weren't learning much and when we were public, Mike would take credit for what little they did know.

Looking back now I think maybe that was the moment of awakening...hearing him tell people how great we were doing and how we successfully homeschooled all our children. What a lie!
The guilt I carry for somehow opening the door to this type of life is something that haunts me. I know that I was programmed by the church and by my ex-husband. I know I began to shut down emotionally. I felt used and I was depressed. My children and I have paid dearly . I know I should be angry...There is a part of me that seethes deep down but at present I am at a loss to reach down and pull it forth.

I am eternally grateful though that that part of my life is over. I strive to put it behind me but it isn't easy.

Monday, June 17, 2013

A Belated Witness To A Tragic Loss Of Innocence

  There is a brokeness I feel as a mother because I was so terribly blinded to so many things. I know...it's not my fault, I didn't know all the dangers surrounding my children. I thought for so long that I was the 'good mother.' I thought that I was doing all the right things...but my failures to see objectively the problems that the IFB had caused and the lifestyle spawned from that ideology, well....what can I say except that hindsight is 20/20?

I was doing alright. I managed to move through the days still rebuilding, still struggling BUT moving forward...even if ever so slowly. At times, I almost feel like a 'normal' person and can enjoy who I am. Then, there are those times when a past problem catches up to you and you are barraged with memories and feelings of guilt and confusion. All of the sudden, the candle is blown out and you feel like you are groping in the dark once again.

This happened to me today.

I spoke with someone that was very close to me today. I won't say who as she may be embarrassed or offended that I would write about this conversation. I don't know if she will ever read this blog, yet I want to insure her privacy.

This young woman started recounting her first time as a molestation victim. She was only about 12.

I listened earnestly, trying to understand how it is that grown men can be so sick...so wicked.

The young woman discussed how this awful situation ended up lasting a very long time....maybe 2 years? How she was introduced to alcohol and drugs and very soon learned to numb herself so as to be able to cope with her nightmares day to day.

Her parents had no idea what was causing the changes in her personality. Her mother knew something was wrong...but what?
No one would say anything...there was a sense of estrangement but no details ...no confrontations.

Years had passed and the woman always searched for the father figure she lacked in her own life. The romantic interests in her life were all older men...much older. Her father you see, was also leading a double life it seemed and she couldn't talk to him.

The father of this girl spent many hours away from home. When he was home, he ignored her and she soon felt as if she were nothing. Her greatest fear was that if he found out what had been going on, she would be blamed and called a whore or a slut.

I cringed with each moment recounted because I knew that healing had to begin by her purging the poison and having a witness to that purge. I was that witness and I felt both saddened and hopeful . Hopeful because I rejoiced in this young woman's ability to confront her demons, yet sad that her mother was not able to see the dangers engulfing her young daughter's life. The mother might have been able to save her from the torment she went through if she could have only KNOWN!

I was remembering how hard it was for me as my children were growing up. I was doing all the work as the babies kept coming. I busied myself so much that I didn't see the dangers lurking in my own household. Before I knew it, it was too late and the corruption in the household had taken hold .

It took an act of God to get me to finally just to begin to see!
That is why I have not lost my faith in the Lord.
I sometimes feel like Joseph...sold into slavery yet being led carefully to a powerful position . He made a difference!

I pray I can do the same.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Some Places To Connect And Articles To Read














These blogs tell a common tale that must never be forgotten:

The IFB cult is scarcely Christian...
It is run amok with aggressively arrogant men who lack empathy and love for their neighbors and families.

Sure, these authors have been hurt. Some of them gave up on the whole idea of Jesus Christ along with the buildings and dogma they left behind.

I can understand this, I don't happen to subscribe to that thought. Many women, myself included, were ravaged over the years in what started out as seemingly good.
...We have a warning to give out and compassion for those still within
the belly of the dragon.
We still have an important story to tell.



















Sunday, June 9, 2013

Honesty Wins Over Fear

 A few years back, I had to go through a major change. I had to face my fears, start telling the truth and attack lies against me with pure honesty.

No, it wasn't easy.  There is something quite humbling about looking at my face in the mirror and realizing that until the truth is told, I would be held captive by my own conscience.
I took small steps toward that end. Confessing my faults to another, letting God take them for me.I had to leave behind the old way of dealing with things. I had to learn to step through the fear.

That is what this blog is all about. I'm sharing to improve. To tell the truth about my feelings as a survivor of spiritual, sexual and emotional abuse.As I share myself with you-the reader- I learn to let go of the sadness and the rage inside . Maybe I can encourage someone else...maybe not, all I know is that it has been healing for me.

One thing for sure, honesty IS the best policy. I can look my soul-mate in the eye and know that I can share my faults and my fears with him and even if he were to be angered or disgusted, I could still face what comes because truth is my ally.

What's the big deal with honesty? Well, when you get a taste of it , you realize you want more.Truth is beautiful!

I'm also bringing it up because it's important to understand that when a man is sick enough to rape or otherwise molest a child, he must shoulder the burden of his decision for the rest of his life.
When dealing with a narcisstic personality, truth is never good enough though. Something may make the offender look bad so he tries to cover it up. He tries to divide and manipulate, yet he never thinks of simply being truthful. This is all a part of the twisted world the offender lives in.

The other day, it was brought to my attention by two different family members, that my ex-husband and his bride had a baby.It was supposed to be a secret, yet the story began to trickle out. It wasn't bothersome to me that he remaried, and under different circumstances, having a baby would be a blessing, yet I am afraid of what will happen to their child. Will she also be abused?

These are the kinds of questions that I cannot answer. I can only hope for the best.
What also concerned me was that the man contacted some of my adult children and made them promise not to tell me or my youngest about the new arrival .
 Divide and conquer! You see, the attitude has not changed. The dwellers of the dark like corners with no light in them.
The offender's guilt causes him to run when no one pursues and to cover himself up with secrets and lies. If a man is in an honest, healthy relationship, would he not shout to the world that he has a new member of the family? Would he cower and worry about what I'm thinking?
Of course not.


The only thing I can say at this point is, I hope for his child's sake he will change his ways, come clean with his new wife and repent . The truth will set you free!

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Climbing Out Of The Hole

There are feelings that I get at the times I have to face my fears. The first is anxiety, then my defenses spring to action. Lastly, I summon my courage in order to face my fears. I learned in my recovery that the fastest way to rid myself of fears is to face them head-on and be honest with myself and others.

I admit that I hate to hear from people from my 'old life.' I feel that many were fair-weather friends. When my ex was busy defaming me, most of them jumped on the bandwagon it seemed.

There have been a few...very few...that took the time to contact me and apologize for siding against me. They offered their help and seemed sincere. May God bless them for that.

I am aware of some that look at me as a curiosity. Maybe they want to play as if they care but what they are really after is a good story! Some have no lives, so they want the dirty details.

I have decided that if anyone from my 'pastor's wife' days wants to talk to me, I will be friendly but guarded and give them a chance. However, I will not surround myself with people that are insincere. Surrounding myself with those who feel the urge to pry or those who have been known to get ugly in the past will no longer be allowed into my life. This is taking care of myself.

Whether the abuse is spiritual, emotional, physical or sexual, as you recover, it is essential to work on yourself a little everyday. Find what your comforted with. Meditate on your blessings and give God the burdens. Yes, it IS difficult but it will change you in time. It took years to learn a pattern of submission and how to live with abuse so there will be no easy transformation. You must consciously live your life day-to-day and resist the urge to settle into a half-life. If you don't take time for you and expend that energy on other pursuits, especially those that other people around you want you to do, you will become totally exhausted .

The first time I had a breakdown was when I was overworked and didn't have anyone to help me.
The second time I was teetering on the threshold of breakdown #2 was when again, I was overworked and pressured.  I was married to the pastor yet he refused to ever help me with anything. I was too intimidated to ask for help.  I have learned that self-care must take precedence. How can I be a 'good' anything without rest?

Such is the vicious circle of abuse. You are worn down by the abuser. You feel emptied, numb and hopeless. You then begin to ignore your own needs and abuse yourself . Then everything starts all over!

I cannot tell anyone what to do. All I can tell you is what seems to be working for me . There is no sin in loving yourself in order for you to climb out of the dark place you've been. Meditate on the good. Be grateful for the small things and always give yourself credit for trying.

Monday, May 27, 2013

Red Flags And Bad Memories

  It's very simple when you are a child, to trust adults. The ones you trust most are usually your family and close friends of the family. However, after being raised in an environment where people that should be protecting you don't or are unaware, I understand it is of the utmost importance to LEARN awareness of pedophilia and other types of abuse and to TEACH what you learn to your children. Had I been more aware of the signs going on right in front of me, maybe my children's lives would have been different.

In looking back, I am realizing that I had contact with pedophiles as I grew up. There were several times, when I was very young that I sensed inappropriate behavior from adult males that were familiar to me but I wasn't sure how to handle it.
The first time was when I was about 10 or 11 years old. My brother was getting married and he had quite a large group assembled for the reception.
My mother and I had flown in for the big event. Our table was next to one with an older couple. They were both very nice, especially the gentleman. He kept going on about how cute I was, that my brother was lucky to have such a pretty, little sister. Being a self-conscious, anxious kind of kid, I felt very flattered. Here was a nice, old man giving me all this attention. I felt special.
As the night wore on and the liquor flowed, I guess the 'nice man' became less inhibited. I remember standing next to my mother at our table and the man was visibly drunk. He began to ask me to come sit on his lap, and those requests became more insistant. I don't remember what if anything, my mother said, but I DO remember his wife becoming increasingly annoyed. She told him to stop bothering me and finally they went home. There was something about her stern voice to him that made me feel very uncomfortable.

The next time, I was about 13 or so. I used to walk around town at that age, many times by myself, (what were my parents thinking?) and I recall an older, black man by the name of Mr. Mincey, who lived in a shack by himself on one of the side streets. He would always say hello and at times, while he sat on his porch, I would chat about school, what was going on in town, etc. After months of chatting in this way, Mr. Mincey asked me in one day. I thought it was safe. He seemed like a 'nice man.' The scenario began to unfold just like the reception. Mincey sat down at his kitchen table and asked me to sit on his lap...I felt my hair stand on end . I blurted out that I had to go. I ran out as fast as I could...


   The one memory that haunts me still, is my strange visit to see my godfather. I was always drawn to him because he was so amusing. He always had an entertaining story to share! He seemed to be very much 'in the know' about what was going on in the celebrity world. He lived in New York City and was aquainted with some big names. He always seemed lenient with me, non-judgmental.  Many times, he would come over to visit my family and spend the day. Truly, he was one of my favorite people. 

   It was during a visit to his apartment at 17 years of age, that I discovered my godfather was a pedophile. 
I wasn't feeling well at some point in my visit. I had a headache. He went to another room to get something and came back with a stethoscope. He asked me to stand still for a minute so he could listen to my heart. I thought that was a bit strange but I trusted him and sort of laughed it off as him being overly concerned for me. The next thing I knew, he had lifted up my shirt to expose my breast and put the stethoscope to it. I was paralyzed! He just stood there looking at my breast, pretending to 'examine' my heart rate.

   My godfather's behavior was so shocking to me. The whole incident happened so fast. I was taken aback. This man was part of the family. How did this happen? Why? I was confused and scared. Mostly, I was shocked. I was so terribly embarrassed by the whole incident that I was truly at a loss. He came to my family's home a few times afterward but I never felt comfortable around him again.

   My point is this: No one EVER taught me about what not to do. No one explained to me how to see red flags or what to do if things like this came up.  I was unprepared, thinking the world was a safe, happy place. I thought adults would never betray my trust. When things happened, I felt as if somehow I was flawed. I was ashamed and I don't even know why.

The cycle was repeated with my own children. We were a Christian family. All our aquaintences were also Christians. We spent more time in church then anyone. That was supposed to be a safe haven. It was certainly difficult to acknowledge that in this safe haven were people that didn't think twice about abusing a child. Including the pastor himself. Birds of a feather, flock together!