Summer Breeze Please!

I decided I don't want to just blog about being a survivor. I'm sick and tired of winter. I want to see flowers, and green grass. My foot is finally at a place that I can drive distances again. So I went on a mini road trip.

I drove down Sheridan Rd. Started off around Belmont Harbor and ended up in Lake Bluff. The ride is always filled with such wonderful memories.

It wasn't the best day weather wise to do this, but I did it anyway. I stopped at Northwestern and watched the waves crash against the rocks. I was going to go into Bahai Temple, but decided to just drive past it to the entrance of Gilson Beach. I thought about the zillions of times I've been there with friends, and the picnics in the summer.

Of course I had to stop at Plaza del lago and stop at Convito Italiano to pick up a few things. I haven't been there in a while.

PLEASE LET IT BE SUMMER SUMMER ALREADY!

The hardest part of the drive is going back home. Had to get back in time for therapy. I can't wait until the day that's not a part of my reality.

I love life, but I get suicidal

I love life, but I get suicidal, what's that all about?

I have a good life. I have people who love me and I love back, but at times I get obsessed with wanting to end my life.

I don't know if it's really my life I want to end, or the intense pain. Some times I think it's really the memories.

I wish I could come out of my body and be in someone else's. I wish I could trade memory chips, and replace mine with a life without abuse.

What would it be like to have grown up with a loving family that didn't abuse?

What would it be like to not worry if my children were with their grandparents over night?

What would it be like to be empathetic to those who have been abused, but not really understand what it's like?

What would it be like to never have to talk yourself out of ending your life?

Don't Come Near Me Says The Monster Within. . .

Flashbacks,
Being triggered.
Not meaning to attack.
It happens.
Hold me, love me -- please understand.

I get scared.
I get petrified.
I live in the past at times.

I want to be in the here and now.
I get triggered.

I have a hard time on an emotional level knowing the difference between then and now.
The monster within wants to be loved -- but doesn't know how to be.

Conversation with a Rabbi

I don't know what I'm looking for. I'm so sick and tired of everyone asking me this question. Yes, both my parents are Jewish. I've been told over and over again that it only really matters if my mother is Jewish. The truth of the matters is it doesn't really matter to me. What blessings has this ever brought me? I was told that I was lying about my abuse. Remember "Jews don't abuse their children".

When you tell a rabbi you were abused they look at you like you are from Mars. I'm a woman, so I must be from Venus.

I had a few e-mail exchanges with a rabbi. I thought for a bit maybe he understood about abuse and what it's like to be a survivor. I was wrong.

I find a great deal of healing writing on my blog. Even my rape counselor approves of it.

I'll be honest with you, I don't like hanging around old people because I don't know which ones of them could have abused their kids. I don't have the time right now to consistently volunteer. If I did, I would spend time with foster kids.

Here's some of the chat:

How to wipe the slate clean is a great question? I will try to answer with a different question.

For a man Judaism is very clear that masturbation is against Jewish law. It is not relevant to what I am going to write as to the reasons, so I am going forward. As a Rabbi, men, especially single men ask me how they can stop themselves from masturbating. The answers fall into two categories. One category is to remove the stimuli. The man should not read pornographic magazines, for instance, watch erotic movies, and the list goes on. Now, the man can ask, “but just walking in the street I see women who arouse me.” And he is 100% correct. Removing stimuli is of limited help.

We need a different kind of solution, one that is not negative but positive. How? If the man tries his best to be occupied with positive things then he will not have the time to think about all the stimuli he may be seeing. Of course he should remove as much of the stimuli as possible, but that is not the real answer. The real answer is to change focus. Is it hard? Extremely, but no one said it was going to be easy.

Likewise, you want to change how you feel about G-d and you are 100% correct. But it is not working and in my opinion the negative approach rarely works. You need to, only my opinion, get involved in helping other people. Now, I do not mean helping other survivors of abuse. Yes, they need help but I am not sure if you need to be the one right now trying to help. You do not need any more reminders of what was done to you. Our goal is to change focus. Perhaps you can find a nursing home where you can volunteer. There are people in a nursing home that are in essence abandoned. No one comes to visit them. If you would go on some kind of regular basis and just sit with them, you cannot imagine the joy you will be giving them, even if they may appear belligerent and unappreciative.

This in my opinion will help you change focus. If possible, let’s start with something like I mentioned. But, don’t expect miracles, please. As you know much better than me, you have a phenomenal amount of hurt and it is a journey you need to travel; a long journey. But, every journey starts with that first step. We can still turn around and see where we came from and we can decide to not make the journey. In my opinion that would be a mistake. Start the journey and over time the place where you came from will become smaller and smaller. I doubt if it will ever disappear, but eventually you will have the choice if you want to turn around and look back or to continue on your journey looking forward.

Terms of Endearment

Terms My Offender Used to Describe Me

1. Crazy
2. Delusional
3. Difficult
   
4. Evil
5. Fool
   
6. Hysterical
7. Idiot
   
8. Insane
9. Insanity
10. Kook
11. Kooky
12. Liar
    
13. Looney
    
14. Lunatic
15. Mad
    
16. Mental
17. Neurotic
    
18. Psychotic
19. Slut
    
20. Stupid
    
21. Touched
    
22. Unsound
23. Whore
    

Words I used to describe my offender

1. Dad
2. Daddy

A song for all of us

I was just reading another blog and found a link to this song. I really like this song and wanted to share it with everyone who reads my blog. The song is long, but well worth listening to. I had to play it a few times because there is so much to it.

Dixie the Tiny Dog

Let me know what you think about it.

Survivors Dating Survivors

I've been having converstations with several of my friends who are survivors and also single. We came up with the idea of having a Jewish Survivors of Sexual Abuse Dating Service.

What do you think of the idea? I think it could be a great one, but there is always the problem of some people being really dysfunctional. Is that something we should be concerned with?

I know for myself I want to get married. I know that many guys don't want to get involved with someone like me because I'm from a pretty "F _ _ _ ed up childhood. Who would want to have a child molester as a father-in-law?

Please give me your feedback on this idea!

Thunder

Rain, Rain, go away,
Come on back another day

Buckingham Fountain
Lake Michigan
Lake Shore Drive
Sheridan Rd.
Grosse Point Lighthouse
Walker Brother's
Gilson Beach
Tower Beach
McCormick Massion
Summer Love
Finding Inner Peace

Sex

I know writing about sex could bring the crazies out in force. But it's an issue.

I hate being alone, and some times I think it's better just to have a guy sleep over, just so I won't be alone. There's nothing as wonderful as waking up in someone's arms. The problem is when you don't have a special someone. Is it really that horrible to just "be with someone"?

I know things get complicated when you are a survivor. There's been times where I've been sexually active, and in the middle of it I have flashbacks of being raped. When you are with someone special, they usual understand. But if you are just having sex to have sex, it can get pretty ugly. The person doesn't necessarily wanna just stop and help you process what just happened. So then you end up feeling like you are being raped again.

If you are in one of these sorts of situations, and you tell the guy to stop, and he doesn't, is it rape? Or is it something else?

Is there anybody out there?

Is there anybody out there?

The Pink Floyd song keeps playing in my head . . .

No one answers me . . .

I guess the answer is NO

God does NOT have my best interest in mind.

Is there really a God?
Is there really a me?

How do you know that God really has your best interests in mind?

I was at a self-help group meeting. There was a discussion of "God having your best interests in mind." How do you know this is true? I surely had a difficult time understanding what they were talking about. I was the only Jew in the room (that I knew of). Is this a Christian concept and not a Jewish one?

Can anyone tell me that God had my best interest in mind while I was being abused? Was there some greater need for this to have happened? No one has ever been able to explain this to me. Please if anyone would like to try, I'd love to hear what you have to day.

Momma

Every time I see a family and they have kids, I know it's something I'll never have.

When I see women who are pregnant I can't help but to remember the converstation I had with my doctor. She basically explained to me:

Because there is so much scar tissue, that it would take a miracle for me to get pregnant and another one for me to carry a baby long enough to live on their own.

Who in their right mind would want to marry someone like me? The odds are if I ever do get married, I will have to adopt.

I can just imagine explaining to my child:

I hate to tell you this, but you were adopted. I couldn't hold you in my womb because it was destroyed by the number of times your grandpa "_ _ _ _ed" me as a child.

Posting About My Life

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

How safe is it to post about your life on a blog?

Will it come back to haunt me some day?

Is writing about my childhood and my healing making things worst for me?

I'll be honest some days I get scared. Other days it's a huge relief to tell the world. I was sexually abused as a child, and my offender's name was "Daddy".

Is it better to volunteer in a nursing home, and be with people who might have abused their children when they were growing up?

Or be here where I feel safe, and I can control who's around me, and know that no one here has abused anyone?

I'll be honest, I don't feel safe around old people. It freaks me out. If I had the time to volunteer time it would be with children no one wanted.

The way my life is right now, I'm lucky if I have time to go potty.