A SADNESS THAT WILL NEVER BE CONSOLED

I feel sad. I also feel humiliated. Most of the people who attended our wedding no longer have anything to do with us. I chose those 24 people because I thought they were special and I wanted them to share our special day. As it turns out I was wrong.

My personality has not changed. My disabilities have got worse. My life started with me being abandoned and it certainly is looking like it is going to end that way too. I have two long-term close friends and it is very unlikely that I will see either of them again though of course we talk on the phone. I have one lovely friend where we live. One really special person in 16 years. But we are very close in age.

Yes I fear being alone being surrounded when my time comes by those who are paid to be there.

Two of the people that hurt me deeply because I never in 1 million years would have thought they would have deserted me at my time of most need. They did. One of them when I asked why she hadn't been round at least was upfront and said I have enough negativity in my life without dealing with yours. Now this was somebody who on a regular basis and come to my house to unburden herself, have a cry and a cuddle and a coffee. I supported her through some truly dreadful things that happened but I never once turned her away no matter how much pain or fatigued I was. this was over 16 years and the first time I needed her that was it. The other friend didn't have the courage to tell me why she had distanced herself from me but eventually she did and it was because of my disease.

The others have given no explanation at all. They have just gone.

I have heard other people who have debilitating diseases that slowly get worse and never better, lose the majority of their so-called friends.

You may indeed wonder why I am making such a big deal about this. It is because it feeds into my deepest fear which is to find myself powerless and institutionalised again. No matter how well people think a particular home is run there will always be abuse and neglect. I will not allow myself to become powerless like that again.

I really do not know why these feelings have come up today. Hazel and Anna came to clean and they are lovely and we have a good laugh. Thy paid me a really nice compliment. I was one of the few clients who treated them as equals and used their names.

Something must have triggered it off but I do not know what. Sometimes when John is not here I feel the feeling so dark I just cannot put into words. At least I know he is home on Thursday but what if he was never coming home? I felt this feeling first when I was stranded in Stockholm. I was in agony and I was frightened. This was in 2004 before I had been diagnosed. I wanted and missed John so badly it terrified me and I thought then that I might one day feel this but very much worse.

However, getting back to my original subject. I really am a lousy chooser of friends. I do feel angry and I feel bitter. One thing though that I have learned is that when a female becomes friends with me very quickly and is almost coyish, says I am like the brother they never had, and consistently tells me how lovely I am I know now that this will end badly. They will withdraw, sometimes turn very nasty, and leave me feeling hurt and bewildered.

Most of all, I feel humiliated. How could I have chosen such cruel friends? Why did I not see it?

The one person other than John their lives here and sees me regularly I know is not like any of the people I have been describing. She is genuine and would not think of hurting me. I have never met a person like her.

You know PTSD, survivor guilt, the parts of us that will always be stuck at a very young, toddler age, 5-6, puberty etc. It really depends on when the abuse takes place. With me it was daily all through my life. I am forever a child in a man's body. I am forever vulnerable to those who see it and take advantage of it.

On the positive side there are those who see me as a damaged child and they treat me with such love care it is astonishing. It took me a while to see thay were and then longer to accept it. But they are there. You wouldn't believe how much the people at Tesco feed my soul, nurture me. Even on holiday people will come up to me just to be nice. Sometimes generous with other than their time.

CHOOSING LIFE

  So this is what I have been doing today. I knitted the back and front and collar of this sweater. The yarn is 2/28 and a cashmere and cotton mix. The sweater is going to be for myself. When it is finished I will photograph it so that the colour is more true to life. It is a lovely orange.

Above are some yarns that I have dyed.  These will go into my Knitman's Kitchen shop.

   Those who have read my blog on a regular basis know that I have written extensively about my life and about recovery from childhood trauma, namely physical emotional and sexual abuse. I am able to do this without it having a negative effect upon myself. In fact I find my interaction with other people who write to me as a result of what they read on my blog to be very positive.

 However, what I am not good at is debating or campaigning  or constantly reading about the terrible things human beings do to human beings.

Recently an idea had begun to float around in my mind that perhaps reading all the articles that people posted on Facebook or sent to me directly was perhaps not good for me. Then a friend mentioned in passing that perhaps it wasn't a good idea that I got so involved. Then much to my surprise my husband said very forcefully to me that he thought it was my involvement  in this that was causing me to have difficulties in my own life. He felt that I was just constantly reliving the pain of my past.

About 10 days ago I quite simply stopped. I stopped reading articles. I stopped commenting on articles. I ignored racist comments. I ignored homophobic comments. I ignored religious fundamentalists.

As a result, I find myself much more at peace and in a much better mood! It wasn't actually that easy because I felt that I was burying my head in the sand by doing this and that I was somehow betraying abuse survivors and those who are still being abused. Strangely writing about the subject on my blog or replying to the heartbreaking letters that I get does not cause me any difficulties at all. I feel that I am giving to these people that which has helped me. This way of helping helps me. However debating and campaigning and constantly speaking up is not for me. I am unable to do that and remain detached at the same time.

John very rarely says anything to me forcefully nor does he give his opinion unasked.  The fact that he did certainly made me listen  and because I trust him I was able to see that what he was saying was true. I recalled leaving the forum about a year ago precisely because it unsettled me greatly. I was thus able to see what John was talking about. However, I felt that to stop doing what I was doing was betrayal but having spoken it through with John and I realise that that is not the case.

Consequently I find I have more time for myself and doing the things that I enjoy doing like knitting and dyeing yarn and just being with my dogs. I play with them and talk to them and take care of their needs. I find I am much lighter  in mood.

John and I also discussed my medications. I have had a hard time accepting my use of painkillers since I started in 2007. Prior to that I just lived with the pain and to be frank I have absolutely no idea how I managed that. It wasn't until I took my first dose of painkiller that I realise just how much pain I had been putting up with. Yet I've never really been able to shake the ideas that I'm doing something I'll not to be doing. I constantly worry about whether the drug is killing the pain or altering my mood. When I spoke about this with my doctor she laughed and she said I should hope it does alter your mood! She said of course you are feeling like you are high because you are not in pain. She said you only had to look at my face. But she assured me that my changing countenance was due to a lack of pain.  However, I have not really come to terms with this.  I give myself a hard time about it as a result. So anyway, the other day I said to John that I really did not like being dependent upon drugs. His response was that he understood that but that I had a choice. I take the drugs and have a life or I don't take the drugs and go back to not having a life. He is right. Without drugs I could not go to dog shows. I could not even take care of the dogs. I could not go to Tesco let alone go out for the day. Holidays would be out of the question. 

Prior to 2007 I did these things but with great difficulty. I was also a very difficult person to be around and to live with. And of course since 2007 my disease has progressed somewhat so there is no going back!   Perhaps I will come to terms with this though it would help if I could figure out  exactly what it is about medication for pain that bothers me. I have absolutely no qualms at all about taking my heart and my gut medication. I am fairly certain it is not a roundabout way of not accepting my disease. I think I have a good attitude with regard to that and I know that there is no cure and that it is progressive and that I get worse as time goes on. I never find myself sitting feeling sorry for myself about that or even sitting and giving it much thought at all.  from the moment I understood my condition I never thought "what if?" I didn't go running around looking for cures. No instead  I gradually found ways of living with it and making my life easier-walking sticks, wheelchair, electric bed, memory foam pillows-and losing weight.  None of those things bother me. The drugs do. I am uncertain as to why. I have deliberately not taken them and the way that I felt was absolutely no different to the way that I always felt. In other words I didn't feel anything other than dreadful and much pain. Just like I did for the years leading up to finally agreeing to take pain medication. So why cannot I not feel comfortable taking them?

LIVING WITH BI-POLAR

I frequently receive emails from people who read my blog telling me their stories and how much solace they get from what I write. I have recently had a couple that address the subject of bipolar disorder.

Most of the time I completely forget that I have bipolar disorder. I am quite certain I forget this  because it suits me to.

I stopped taking medication for bipolar disorder about 10 years ago if not a little longer. One of the things that I hated about the medication was how flat it made me feel.

Most importantly having done the work I needed to do with regard to my life of abuse my mood swings became much less extreme. I say my life of abuse because to say that I was abused only as a child is not at all true. I consider my time spent in psych wards as abuse. Yes, the stories you hear about abusive staff are certainly true.  Back in the 80s I was called to give evidence about one of the hospitals I was in and the questioning psychiatrist asked me why I said nothing at the time. I looked at him squarely in the eye and I said to him: I was locked up in a mental hospital. I was being abused by the staff in that hospital. Why do you think I did not complain? Honestly what a stupid question to have asked me!

I still have the mood swings. It is just that they are not very noticeable now. However in times of stress they do become much more volatile. Last year was a good example of this. With all the stress of the house remodelling and our wedding I started to become really quite hyper and then the Jimmy Savile affair hit the news and I crashed but I kept this all to myself and I did not go to my GP. My illness had really taken over at this point and I had become paranoid. I was frightened that if I said anything to her that I would be locked up again. In the end I had no choice but call a locum in the middle of the night. I knew of course that this would be reported to my GP although I was not conscious of the fact at that particular time. I realise now that I called the locum knowing full well that he would have to tell my GP and that was my way of letting her know that I was in trouble. As a result of this we had a very good conversation and she made me a solemn promise that she would never ever do anything without my consent and she also did not think that I needed such treatment anyway. She made me feel very much better by letting me know that I was not the only person so badly affected by the Jimmy Savile affair and she had also told me several times previously that the house alterations and our wedding were very stressful occasions for people in general not just to me but given my added complications she is surprised I handled it all so well.

I guess the whole point of this is to remind myself of how far I really have come but also to remind myself that it has not gone away completely and it is never likely to. Everything that I write about myself and my disease and how I have coped is purely personal and if it helps other people I am very glad. I have no intention of getting involved in the argument of whether this is a purely biological disease. I personally do not think it is or at least if it is, it does not mean that therapy cannot help it. I can only speak from my own experience which has seen a huge lessening of the bipolar effects as I came to terms with myself and my past.

Who knows what the future may hold.  Considering just how stressful last year was, the bipolar affective disorder could have been very much stronger in reaction to all that stress. The fact that it was not I believe is down to be years of work I put in upon myself. However the way that it still presented itself and took hold of me is still frightening particularly the paranoia that I felt which kept me from seeking help or at least telling somebody.

I know that I am quite hard upon myself and yet when I write a post like this I amaze myself. I am truly astonished at the journey I have taken and if the feelings were not so clear I would find it hard to believe that the man writing this is the same man who went through all this. If I have a regret about my writing it's that I do not have talent enough to convey the sheer horror of it all so that people can really see what I used to be like compared to what I am like now. I so want to convey the message that healing is possible that no matter how bad the situation is it really can be bettered. Yes, there are a lot of battles to be fought along the way not least of which will be against loved ones and medicos who will wrongly feel that they know best. At least that was so in my case. I was very lucky that I always had John on my side and after his first experiences with the medicos in relation to my treatment he very quickly learned what I was up against and he supported me in searching out alternate avenues for my recovery.

These alternate avenues did involve a lot of new-age hokey pokey and treatments but I soon saw through those as well.

In the end the two things that really set me on the road to real recovery were this; reading books by a woman called Dorothy Rowe and finding a therapist who was a survivor of abuse himself and therefore knew what I was going through. He also never once told me there was something wrong with me and he never once diagnosed me. He never once let me down either. Even when I went into a full-blown mania as was likely to happen when I started to deal with the pain of sexual abuse. He did not leave my side.  He kept his word.

Some of you will have read my comments regarding my memories and how I can't look back over my life and see anything other than blackness and pain. Perhaps the above goes some way to explaining what I mean.

The last seven years have truly been the best of my life. They have not been without their difficulties and as I have already described last year was challenging to say the least but the good of the last seven years far outweighs the bad. For the first time in my life I am able to look back over a period longer than a few weeks and say that it was good.

NO REGRETS

We were having a very difficult time with Fanny.  She has to be the most stubborn dog I have ever owned.  We sent her away to friends of ours who train dogs. I felt I really needed her to go away because she was having bad effects on Alexander.

It turns out that I did the right thing. She came back yesterday after 10 days away. Not only does she now sleep in her cage all night without  barking but she eats in her closed crate as well. Alexander, who has always slept well in his crate, is now eating well too. all this week he had not as he had started to do what Fanny had done; not eat in his crate. Now that they are both together again they are both eating normally and sleeping normally. The only challenge still left is to train Fanny for the lead which she is still refusing, or at least is not completely happy with it yet.

As for me I have still been having trouble with fear. I spoke to John about it yesterday. I told him how I'd been feeling a lot of fear recently. I also told him how this is usually the prelude to a dark and terrible time of flashbacks with me coming out the other side and more "enlightened". This has been the result the last three times.

However after the last time when I finally realised that I had not been abused because of who I was but because of who they were I really thought that was enough. To be quite frank, I have had enough of this. I really do not want to go through any of that shit again.  What can possibly be left that I have not felt or understood?

I think that this fear is more to do with the fact that my life is really good. As contrary as that seems, I have never been in this situation before. I do find it frightening. I am used to having to fight. I am used to having to swallow down fear. I'm used to the battle to survive. I have lived like that all of my life. It is now time to enjoy the fruits of my labour. I have earned this. I deserve this. And I am so very afraid that this will all be taken from me. Now I think that something terrible is going to happen to John or to myself.

I know that it is not logical. Yet the pattern of my life has always been one of loss. The constant moving. From one continent to the other, from one country to the other. Leaving behind a home that I knew, friends, pets.  I stopped getting attached. In my mind I knew that I would lose these friends, these pets, this home.  I remained detached.

I am no longer detached. Over the years that I have been with John, I occasionally had my love for him break through my barrier. I may have been putting food into the freezer, reading, bathing a dog, and all of a sudden I would feel this overwhelming love and it would terrify me. Well since my epiphany not only do I feel this all the time but I also feel it for my dogs, especially Whitney. 

I understand that loss comes to us all. I also understand that we all die. It is ironic that I spent my whole life surviving only to discover that I will die anyway. The terror I felt as a child of dying by the hands of my father, or the paedophiles of whom I was a victim, has not left me. I will die anyway.

I have to find some way of integrating this so that I can enjoy all that I have. Whilst I understand that most people deal with this with denial, it seems that I cannot. I don't know that it is possible to go back into denial. I also feel very strongly that I want very much longer left because otherwise I feel that I will have fought all of my life to just get a few years of benefit.

I know that I have no control over time. That death will come when death comes. Like many people, I need to stop seeing death as punishment. This is what I was taught when I was a child through religion. What an evil thing to teach anyone let alone children. Death is not punishment it is what happens to our bodies and we cannot do anything about it.

And we cannot do anything about it. For a control freak that is really a problem. I have pretty much dealt with my control issues with regard to other people. Some of it is necessary, like doing what I can to organise my day and our trips so that the requirements of my disease are met. In other words I control as much of those as I can whilst accepting that there will always be stuff beyond my control.

I have no control over death. Yes, I can hasten my end, which I am likely to do in the event of a drawn out painful end.  Other than that, just like everybody else, I have no control.

I therefore need to live my life joyously despite this knowledge. I don't know how to. The irony of all this, from what I understand of the literature on the effects of child abuse, is that had I had a secure upbringing I would be dealing with my own demise and that of my loved ones in a way that did not prevent me from enjoying my life. Instead, having been in constant fear throughout my childhood and witnessing the violent murder of my best friend,  has left me with  fear. About halfway through therapy it dawned on me that I would not survive, that no amount of coming to terms with my past, loving myself, was going to remove the fact that death would come.

I understand that death is something to be feared. Rather, the manner of death. And the uncertainty of it. What is not right is that my now is being so negatively affected by my fear of it.

Although it all boils down to this in the end it is also very much about my inability to enjoy the good life that I have claimed for myself. That I have fought so very long and hard for. It would be really sad if I did not find some way of truly enjoying all that I have now.

Perhaps, now that I have written, and through the course of writing come to understand what is behind the way I have been feeling recently, it will gradually begin to heal of its own accord. As always when I start to write I did not know what I was going to write about and so I am surprised as maybe you are.

I do want to make it clear though to my fellow survivors that regardless of where I am right now I have absolutely no regrets at all in going through the healing process that abuse survivors must go through. It is worth it. It is necessary. No matter how brief, feeling happiness and joy and peace is worth it. To have love and respect for oneself instead of loathing is worth it. No, I most certainly do not regret seeking healing in the way that I did. I do not regret being where I am right now. I also know that where I am right now is yet another effect that abuse has on people.

I think people in general, including we survivors, do not fully appreciate the enormity of the damage that child abuse inflicts upon the soul, or the psyche if you prefer, of the child.  It is far more enormous, far more deep, and far more destructive than we imagine it to be.

It is not insurmountable. Seeking recovery is worth it. We are worth so much better than a life without recovery affords us. No, the seeking of healing, whilst lifelong, is worth it.

CHANGING OUR MINDS

Good morning! No, have not just got up but I have jobs to do first thing. Getting out of bed is the first job: better with the electric bed once I find the right buttons. Don't ask what happens when I don't. Then the dogs have to be let out and the squawking seagulls, I mean puppies,  now have to be let out too. Then Pussy and Megan get fed. then the puppies get fed. The adults know my drugs have not kicked in so watch out that i don't fall on them. Even Megan has cottoned on to that.

Be positive! Every cloud has a silver lining as they say. I have suffered body dysmorphia since my teens. I would look in a mirror and all I saw was a fat hideous hunchback of Notre Dam figure, even when I only weighed 7stone. I pretty much dealt with this by refusing to have a mirror. I had only a small one for many years to shave. 
Well, when I had my epiphany that all changed. We now have two large mirrors. On my bad days I don't look because if I do, I hate what i see. On my good days I see Daniel Craig. THAT is the silver lining I was referring to. It does get better, it really does. If you want it to and are prepared to do what it takes and what it takes is that you change your mind. Seriously. There is no magic pill, no magic answer. We just need to change our minds. It is of course the most difficult thing in the world to do. We often don't know what our mind is, let alone that it needs changing. For me, I had to realise that the ideas I had been taught, were just that, ideas, nothing more, and that i could create my own ideas, ideas that would enable me to live without fear and shame which was destroying me. To realise that my parent's opinion of me, the Church's opinion of me, my brother's opinions of me, were just that, opinions and nothing more, I was free. Once I realised that all any of us have is ideas. I had to change mine. The first and biggest problem I faced was to ditch the idea that if I told about the abuse, God would strike me down dead. The first six months of telling were among the most frightening of my life. So much so that I did lose it for a while. But as time wore on and I was still alive I began to realise that my therapist was right. Nothing happened bad happened to me for telling the truth.

Over the years, my ideas about myself, about life, about other people changed. I know they changed for the better because I have such a good life today. I always find that when I feel bad, it is I who needs to change MY thinking on the matter. Be it getting rid of the person, as sometimes that is how our idea must change, we change our mind about it being good for us to have such a person in our lives, or we have to change our attitude to a problem.

All of our problems from abuse, addiction, fear, shame, shyness, all of them respond only to a change in us. Deep within us. A complete overhaul of the way we think. It is simple but in practice it is not and is extremely painful but so worth doing. I am so glad I no longer live the life I used to live, in it's horrible dark dark day after day of suffering, years on end. Today, I don't often suffer in that way. My body suffering is a doddle by comparison.

If I can, you can. You just have to be prepared to change your mind. Literally. The difficult part will be finding out what your mind is. Meaning,, finding out what you really believe. That is really very astonishing. I was gobsmacked to discover some of my core beliefs about myself and others and the world. My core belief was that I was evil and unloveable and unacceptable. Once we knew that, we had to find out what the ideas were that made me think that. Well, I wasn't loved or liked or accepted by my own parents so obviously I was no good.  Not obvious at all. I eventually after years of work, came to realise that the problem hadn't been me but them. WOW! That had not occurred to me. It also wasn't that simple. i couldn't possibly believe that. if I did, God would smite me. After all, one has to Honour Thy Parents. 

I am always surprised at what I write once I start. So here you have it, my thoughts this cold and wet morning. I am happy.

GRIEF-A MIND OF IT'S OWN

It is 11:48am on a bright and sunny day, not too warm. Jack the gardener is in mowing the lawn, John is on the telephone to the insulating company trying to re-arrange a date for them to come and do their job.

I have had some odd feelings recently. Last night I had a long dream. Well it seemed long. I will give the short version. I was in a very crowded college and I was not feeling comfortable due to the crowd. This is true today. I don't like crowds. Cut to next scene. I saw a young man, a boy really and he was clearly distressed and lost. I was able to get to him. I hugged him and I told him what I know now. Afterward, he was happy and re;axed and his dull clothing had changed and he waved me goodbye with a big grin and asked if I liked his vibrant shirt. This was when I realised the boy was me. It makes sense because I have been feeling regretful recently that i did not know back then that the abuse was not my fault and that it did not happen because of who I was but because of who they were. I don't need to be told the past is gone. I know. I still feel grief for it though. All those years of suffering. wasted it seems to me. Most of it a blur. A life un-lived, just survived. So unlike today. The flip side being that most do not get to where I am-a life being lived authentically-with the knowledge it was never me and was always them. Grief though has a mind of it's own and does not take solace from now. I think I will always feel sad for the boy I used to be.

Below is what i wrote about Bournemouth Dog Show:

CHASE 3rd in MPD, Pussy 3rd in PGB and MG 1st in LB. The day got off to a bad start. I had parked, unpacked, and attached Daniel to my dog trolley and as I pulled away, the wood holding the bracket snapped. No choice but to walk the trolley over to my breed's grooming area and coem back for mDaniel. When I got back this woman parked int eh spot between me and the next acr, effective

ly preventing me opening the doors on the passenger side. I would not have been able tio unpack had she done thta beforehand. As it was I was not going to be able to pack my car. Plus, there was ample parking further down. Only one entrance so it made no different where she parked. I politely asked her to move, explaining that the disabled area was meant to have larger gaps between cars for wheelchairs etc. I got a flat NO. I explained again why she should not be there and all she kept saying was the security man had told to park there. (I am just following orders type of person.) Well, i lost my temper with her and told I thought she was stupid and self centred and I was appalled at how soem people treated their fellows. Yes she said, so am I!!!! I then wheeled away because my ire was well and truly on fire and I just had to go. I complained to a show official who ordered a uniformed man to follow me and sort he woman out. well, he out of ear shot of the man who ordered him, used his walkie talkie to call another security man. Well, the man turned out to be a boy and he had no gumption. He and the woman decided that when I had to leave, I reverse my car, thus freeing the sides and at the same time BLOCK the exit!!!! On top of this an old biddy could not resist putting her ore in and said 'you don't need that, I've seen you walk!!!!' Now the woman who blocked my car had her affix and website plastered on the back of the car. i want to tell you the affix but John thinks I ought not. Anyway, she had Labs. i do wonder how a disabled person manages to show Labs. I ahd to leave it at that. No one was prepared to make this woman behave decently. Infuriatingly, had she driven on, she could have parked CLOSER to the entrance and NOT had to show utter disregard for other people.
My dear friend Sarah Bedford, came to the rescue at the end of the show. She helped me pack my car. i could not have done it without access to the passenger side. She was furious too with the woman and was thinking of ways to block her ! Not seriously I am sure.

I stayed with Sarah and her husband last night. They have a lovely house with a garden one needs a sit on lawn mower for. It was just beautiful to sit there having dinner and watching the dogs. i have video and photo. My dogs reacted really well. they loved and all three ate the dinner I brought with me for them. My dogs tend to always be okay as long as they with me.

It was a very windy day which for long coated breeds is a pita but I find it quite good for me because it stops me faffing and fretting. The day would have been much nicer had it not started in such a stressful way and had i not spent most of the time worrying about how I was going re-pack my car. Despite my life experiences, this sort of behaviour and attitude from others still astounds me. I mean they KNEW exactly what they were doing, what the affect was going to be, and they simply did not care. I really do not understand that. How does a person get to be so indifferent to others?

Whitney is in season and I am planning a second litter from her. Poor Chase is confused. he has not quite come of age, 9mths old, and he is whimpering a lot of the time and following her about but he seems to not really know why.

PS: I FORGOT TO ADD THAT IN MY DREAM I ALSO WAS TOLD THAT I HAD NO PROBLEM WITH REGARD TO MY DISABLED STATUS AND BENEFITS AND THE GOVERNMENT OVERHAUL. WE SHALL SEE.

TALL POPPIES

I have always known that being open about my past leaves me vulnerable to sick and cruel or just plain ignorant people. I have had my share of evil comments here and I even had a stalker for a while. I handled them fine.

Just very recently, I wrote a short version of my past in response to something that warranted the explanation I gave. There was no response part from one brief comment. No one else commented until a woman did and all she could do was criticise my paragraphs! She said other things, all dismissive. 

I cannot tell you how shaming it is to bare yourself like that only to have that sort of comment back. This type of ignorant cruelty still enrages me and I have realised that if I feel rage then I have been shamed first.

How can anyone read such a story and ignore it or criticise it in anyway? Why is their response not one of compassion and horror? I don't know and I guess I have always had a problem with people like this. What sort of person can only criticise a person who is brain damaged, has serious body and pain issues, who has been able to communicate anyway, and who still WANTS to?  I don't know about you, I find that really callous and sick. This isn't about agreeing with me or not saying you don't. It is about not shaming me just because I find writing and typing a mental and physical challenge. All of which was clear in what I wrote. She isn't the first and won't be the last callous so and so I come across but this is the first time I have been honest about how it really makes me feel and what I think of those who do it. 

No survivor is looking for pity. That does no one any good and pity is worthless and far too easy. Aside: would you believe the amount of women who say 'ah, bless' when they see me in my wheelchair? That is pity and it is patronizing and it means fuck all. It dehumanizes me.

The reason it takes so many of us such a long time to gain enough courage to tell our story is precisely because of reactions like that. We fear being shamed and humiliated. The abuse made us feel like that and we don no want more of it.

My first attempts were met with 'you are too sensitive'. What do you think I felt? Yes, shame and humiliation. Another attempt was met with seeming understanding and I was invited to a prayer circle. I accepted, feeling that for the first time I was being listened to. That is until it began and they started to pray that I,(!ME!), be forgiven. Now what type of person is privileged to gain such trust only to throw it back in the face of the person trusting them?

I was taken by surprise today. I started to shake, my heart pounded. This despite the beta blockers and pain killers. One can safely assume by button was well and truly pushed!

Anyone who makes me feel shame, is out. I do not entertain having them in my life. I experienced the same shame, humiliation and anger with the person to whom I was kind and supportive yet they chose to interpret what I wrote as the opposite. I take responsibility for this though as I already knew what they were like but I had given them the benefit of the doubt only to be severely burned. (A situation another would have just brushed off I know but I am who I am.)

However, and this is what is important. I will never be silent. I will not acquiesce. There will always be victims of abuse who need to know my story and the stories of other survivors so that they know there is hope. So that they know that a semblance of peace is possible. That a good life can be lived regardless of how they feel in the moment. They need to know that happiness, joy, real friendship is possible. That love does not mean sex and violence. That love does not mean name calling, undermining ones confidence. Love does not have to be earned.

Most of all, they need to know that is not they who at fault. they need to know that they were abused (are being) because of who the abuser is and NOT  because of who they are.

My experience of writing about my life on this blog has been hugely positive. In ways I could never have foreseen. At first I remained anonymous and I was writing just as away of ordering my story for myself, of making some sense of it. I had no idea how it was going to affect others.

I very soon got comments and emails from other survivors. From professionals in the field child protection. I was astounded. I was also scared. I then realised that if I was telling my story and stating that shame does not belong with us, why was I hiding my identity. So I came out. Obviously I made sure to never identify anyone.

What we all need to know about recovery is this: there will never be a time when we will be as if the abuse the never happened. I used to think that I would come out of recovery wholly new, with the abuse and it's effects wiped away. Not so.

One learns to live well despite it. The severe PTSD symptoms do lessen. They do become further apart. But you will still have them. You will still have buttons that can be pushed, as happened to me today. There will be times when out of the blue, you will be plunged right back into that hell hole. Only now one can get out of it quickly and unaided, shake it off and carry on living a good and happy life.

Peace and joy do come but they don't stay. They come and go. But instead of plunging back into darkness when they go, one just lives well. One feels, one enjoys, and some of what we feel will not be nice and some of what we feel will be wonderful. Overall though we will be content. We will know who we are, where we have come from. We will know we are loved. we will love ourselves and we will not be at the mercy of the whims of others and their opinions about us. Only you really know what you feel.

No person who has not been through this torment has any idea at all what it is like. Remember that next time some ignorant soul judges you, they have not walked in your shoes. They understand nothing. There are those whose ability to empathise allows them to understand that we suffered/suffer and they treat us accordingly. They are safe people. Sadly, far to many do not have this gift.

I know that when one is in the depths of the shame and humiliation, the fear and the pain, it is nigh on impossible to see that the shame does not belong with one. The light seems very far away and it also seems that it must be us. After all, that person seems to be living a functional life. it is we who are not. it must be our fault. It is often just easier to blame ourselves than to accept that yes, other people can be so callous. It is not a safe feeling, yet we are strong enough to deal with it. No everyone is not coming from the same place. there those who will seek to harm you. There are those that do not seek to harm you but just do not care a joy. But there are those who not only will not harm you, they will love you and they will hold you and help you. You will become strong enough to accept them too.

BETTER THAN NUMB

I realised something today about myself that I do not like. It is about how I think about my brothers. I don't think about my father. I don't care what he thinks, he has no hold over me.

I found out that I do care what my brothers think and I am ashamed of that. I am shocked that I do care. I don't like either of them, certainly have no love for them. My elder brother I think little of, never have liked him. He is self-centred in the extreme, compassionless, nasty, spiteful and cold. His capacity for denial is greater than that of either parent. I do get he had the same parents and his denial and hatred of me is his way of not ever having to face the truth. The exact same applies to my younger brother except that he has on two occasions shown me compassion. The last time, in 1994, he also contacted me and he was very very distressed. He wanted my forgiveness for not having spoken up when I was put away in a nut house, for not telling the truth of what he saw happen to me and to us. Then he went and ruined it. He went and confronted my father on my behalf with an event that not even I thought had happened. Of course good old ME got the blame for that! My brother made it up, told my family, and I got the blame! But of course, as I am Devil's Spawn, they just lapped it up as more evidence I was evil and they could carry on hating me and keeping me as their scapegoat. 

I got over what he did. I might not have, had he not written two letters to me. I kept those letters because I knew I would need them. I was right. I don't mean I need them to show anyone. No. Just for my own benefit so I have proof for myself the whole debacle happened and that for a brief time, he was there with me in the truth.  It didn't last and he went back into denial and soon the 'you're evil' phone calls and years later, e-mails resulted with the same 'you are evil theme'.( My John has of course read the letters and he has met both brothers and is not as kind about them as I am.)

Troublingly, he now travels the world conning people out of huge sums of money for his 'therapy' and 'channelling'. I would like to think he is also conning himself rather than deliberately conning those poor people that he can help them. 

When he was young he got very very involved in a Xtian cult which is where me being demon possessed came from because I was the easy target. I was out gay even then, completely unaware that BOTH my brothers were also gay. They let me take all the shit and rejection whilst they sucked up to our abusive parents and colluded with them against me. Me being gay was the perfect thing for everyone to hang all the family troubles on. I was the cause of it all. It was thus a very short step before they had Biblical backing for me being evil and of the Devil.

So I discovered today that I would hate for them to know I am basically crippled by physical pain and my life is therefore limited by it physically. It would just be proof positive to them of my inherent evil just as my mental health issues-the OCD, anorexia, PTSD etc - were.

However, I have worked very very hard and overcome all the mental health issues, the self worth issues, the fear stuff and the religious clap trap stuff. I would NOT change a thing about my life. I happy within myself generally.

I think it may be just my pride that would not like them see me as I am. My success is not obvious.

My biggest success is that I am happy, I am not like them, I am the ONLY one in my family to have a good and successful relationship. Neither of my brothers have and whilst my parents had a long marriage until my mum died, it can hardly be called successful. My dad was remarried within a year!

It may seem petty to think as I do about this. It just came to me, I am not sure what triggered it. It twisted my gut as the thought of either of them seeing me in my wheelchair or hobbling along with my sticks or in a pained state. I know they would relish it. They will blame me. 

It pisses me off royally that I even think of them! But it's the truth. I don't very often and I can't recall what triggered it-something I heard this morning did.

I guess some things run deep and do find a way of rearing their ugly heads from time to time. Like I have said many times, abuse survivors never completely get rid of the shit BUT we can and do live very very well if we face it and deal with it.

I have done that and I have an excellent life, one I never thought possible. I am incredibly grateful for it, for it is one beyond my imagining. I certainly never dreamt of a life like this. I only ever wanted to be numb. To me that was most I could hope for. I am so glad I discovered I could have so much more. Feeling good is not longer feeling nothing.

It's being alive in every sense.
Appropriate

EPIPHANY

Since my epiphany almost 4 years ago, I have changed. Really changed. Although maybe I haven't and the real me just came to the surface? Whatever, it is remarkable. This change is still happening.

First of all, because the epiphany was the realisation that I had been abused because of who the abusers were and not because of who I was able to release the final, and worst, pain and grief. I thought at the time it would kill me. Fortunately, my Doctor understood what was happening and understood why my gut was so affected. Grief really does hurt physically and takes it's toll on the body.

As a result people who were in my life are no longer. People who made me feel bad. People I had in my life because of guilt feelings I had. People who knew all about my past and used it manipulate me. When I think of that, it appalls me. That is truly wicked.

The reason for writing this today is because of another side effect of my release which I could not have anticipated. My taste in music has grown wider. The most surprising to me is that I am now including male singers. Apart from 3 albums by David Bowie back in the early 70's, I have never bought music by male singers. I have recently bought Nivarna Unplugged. Yes, I know!!!! If you had told me I would like this I'd have asked you what drug you were on! Now, I have just ordered 3 cds by Noah and The Whale. Their name is synchronistic too as I have been thinking a lot about the biblical story of Noah and The Whale and my astonishment that there are people who believe it is true!

I have added the following artists to my new likes: Amy MacDonald, Adele, Amy Winehouse, Laura Marling, Katie Melua, Beth Rowley, Mary Gauthier, Madeleine Peyroux, Lily Allen, Eliza Dolittle, Imelda May, Blue Harlem, Devil Doll. Mostly different genres.

Prior to this, my likes were Carly Simon, Amanda Lear, Joni MItchell, Carole King and Donna Summer. That was it.

This is exciting to me. I love music and now being able to hear new artists and appreciate them is wonderful for me.

The most obvious change is the way I dress. I see photographs of myself dressed for dog shows and I still get a shock! Yes. A shock. It is so not the me I used to be! I love the new me though.

I am also now more able to tolerate emotional situations I was not able to previously. I am able to make a stand against wickedness and not feel battered and bruised by it nor be sent back to flashbacks and panic. I mean by this that I am able to write, as I did last night, in counter attack on those people who would defend the Roman Catholic Church and it's stance on protecting abusive clergy. Yes, there are many who do indeed defend that. So I write on opposition to it. Not because I have any hope of changing the mind of those writing such wickedness because I know full well their mind set and I am not going to able to change them with a few words. However, by writing as I do, other survivors take something from it that helps them. How can I make such an arrogant claim? Simply because I get hundreds of e-mails from people the world over telling me how my words have helped them along their path toward light. I am more than humbled by this. Anyway, I have awoken feeling good today which is not my experience of past involvement in such exchanges.

NO BRAVERY

I pinched the title of this post from a song by James Blunt. I do not know right now the gist of his lyric about the title certainly suits this post.

I made a comment about victims being referred to as innocent victims and I find this really annoying, if not offensive. As if there is such a thing as a deserving victim! Do we really think that some victims of terrorist bombs are guilty victims? That some of those killed in an earthquake or some other natural disaster are guilty victims?

Once again this rather sad and sick thinking that we have about ourselves and our fellows can be found rooted in the Bible which tends to lead one to believe that most misfortune is the result of sin. Therefore if you are good nothing bad will happen to you. Therefore if something bad does happen to, you you are bad. And people believe this because it makes them feel better. Even if they do not consciously realise that this is what they believe, most of us do believe the lie that if we are good nothing bad will happen to us.

It is with similar disgust that I hear announcements that a particular person has lost their brave battle with cancer. I have a friend who is in remission and a few others who have died. When one has cancer one has no choice but to deal with it! The implication of all this is that if one dies from cancer one just did not do enough to prevent it, did not battle bravely enough. And it can make cancer victims feel like they cannot show their emotions.

For people with diseases like my own, the same claptrap is often spoken. I have a choice. I can either take to my bed or my armchair and stay there or I can make the best of the ability I still have. It has fuck all to do with bravery. It is a choice. I have no choice as regards my disease, nothing I do will get rid of it. The times when I have appeared stoic and brave I have just been a stubborn idiot! Like for example when I refused medication. I cannot believe that I suffered so much before I gave in. Mind you to be fair to myself much of this refusal to take drugs was down to fear. I had been taught to think things about drugs. That they were dangerous and that only weak people took them. This of course was in reference only to painkilling drugs and mood altering drugs. Today I take the drugs and I do not have a problem. I understand that taking the drugs has nothing at all to do with my status as a man or with my strength or lack of it! I also have not become addicted as many clever clogs believe because I use the drugs for the correct reason. I recently went 3 days without taking any morphine because I had a bug. I was completely without any symptoms of withdrawal. Up until that point there had still been residual doubt and fear regarding taking this medication. now I can quite confidently tell all these armchair experts to fuck off!

What I do accept as bravery on my part and on the part of other people who have survived similar, is that I faced my Demons head on. In many ways this was not a choice because my life was so pain filled that I had to do something. However, I still had to face that which terrified me and feel that which I was convinced would destroy me. It was no exaggeration. It still amazes me that I survived.

For me, bravery is about doing or facing that which we are afraid of. In that respect I am a brave person because I continually do the things which frighten me. And I'm talking about the type of fear that makes your guts feel loose, your hands shake, and your heart pound in your ears. I face this type of fear very frequently. This is mainly to do with other people, especially crowds. Dog shows are always a battle for me.

I know that this is the last word that people would associate with me but I am in reality a shy person. I have just learned to act as if I am not.

I know that I am not alone and the one thing that I would suggest that I have in common with my closest friends is that we share this bravery between us. We all have the same basic fear and we face it head on each day. I think only other survivors of abuse will understand what I am talking about. No matter what words one chooses to use to describe the emotions and the feelings unless one actually experiences it for oneself, and no other can really know.

EXPLOSION OF RAGE

The fires in London are truly shocking. The rioting broke out near our flat, John had a sleepless night but there is nothing to target around our flat. The shopping area has all been pulled down. Nothing was near him except for the sirens and helicopters. Our Home Sec is a hard faced hypocrite. On tv , hard faced, depersonalizing the rioters,speaking crap, the look of disgust for those 'below' her palpable.

More on the Home Sec-she now says she is fully supportive of equal rights for homosexuals, now she is in power, yet she voted AGAINST every measure that aimed at ending the inequality we experience. She isn't the only one who has grown a different face because the PM wants them too. But to sneer the way she is, refusing to acknowledge that the youngsters rioting and looting and generally losing all boundaries are people. the more she and others de-personalize them the less likely it is that any good will come of it. What do we want? vengeance or peace?

We as a society have produced this situation. We have produced the ghettos. We have allowed babies to be born into poverty, born into gang culture. When one has been brought up in this culture, one is brought up in a way of THINKING. The same as we all have. The only difference between them and us is THINKING.

They grow believing the rest of society is the enemy. The 'rest of society' does nothing to disavow them of this because we sneer at them, don't even see them as human.

They see us with our good jobs, fancy cars, fancy tv's, computers etc and there they are with none of these things and no hope of getting it the 'legitimate' way.

Then they see the 'haves' getting away with financial crime. The haves having their taxes cut whilst the poorest among us are having their benefits cut.

I have lived in such areas for over 20 years. I KNOW how different the thinking is. I also know how not different to me and you these people are. I have also seen babies dragged up to become as criminal in their behaviour as those around them because it is NORMAL in their society. The moral landscape is totally different.

I just saw the most disgraceful interview between a BBC reporter and Darcus Howe, a prominent Black Briton. She was trying her best to paint him badly, asking shameful questions with shameful veiled accusations. HE brought her up short on it and shamed her by asking that she showed an old man some respect. Good on him!

Anyway back to the point of this comment: if we continue to de-personalize others, if we continue to deny the affects of child abuse, then what we have seen these last few nights will happen again and will get worse. It will be PEOPLE set upon, not goods and shops.

If it is morally and ethically correct to view our fellows with positive regard then we must do so regardless of their behaviour. A person does not stop being human when they do something we do not like.

I never de-personalized my abusers. They are very much people. I think if I had not seen them as such I would not have recovered. I do not view the men who sexually abused me as monsters but as men who did monstrous things to me. My father is still a man and still my father despite his monstrous behaviour toward me. I don't view as less than human. I don't view my mother and other women involved in my abuse as monsters either.

By viewing any of these people as less than human would harm ME and would let them off the hook because if they are not human we cannot hold them to the same standards as we do human beings. We cannot expect of them the same things we expect of a well balanced human being.

By this de-humanizing we also think we let ourselves off the hook: we don't have to take responsibility at all for others, for the way we allow society to destroy the lives of the young and the poor and uneducated.

What is more we can ignore the fact that society colludes in the abuse of children. despite the outward rage and disgust shown by people, child abuse happens right under our nose because we are either actively involved in it or because we do not want to see or we actively encourage it, such as the emotional and mental abuse of children done by religion and faith schools.

It could be argued the the people who truly are inhuman are those who are doing the judging and condemning and de-humanizing of fellow human beings.

Abuse and being de-humanized causes huge rage. Some of us quash that rage down with sex, drugs, food. Others take that rage out on ourselves by cutting and other forms of self harm.

Rage eventually does what rage does: it rages and we are experiencing this explosion of rage right now.

CHILD PORNOGRAPHY ON FACEBOOK

THE KID

I watched a film last night called The Kid.  I almost turned it off within the first few minutes when I realised what the subject was going to be.

This is the true story of the successful author Kevin Lewis.  It was a very moving film.  Extremely well acted.  And it was brutal.  I defy anyone to watch this film and not see the miracle in those of us who have survived childhood abuse intact.

Kevin’s life was very different to mine.  The fear was the same and the school nightmare was the same. 

I did not have disturbed dreams last night.  I had no flashbacks. what the film left me with was a feeling of awe and wonder at the life that I have today.

I do not want to romanticise this at all. People like Kevin and myself did survive to become decent positive people.  Far far more did not survive. Many did not survive physically and many of those that did did not survive emotionally and mentally or spiritually.  I do not know why.

I do think this is the very first time I have watched such a film and been left with such a positive feeling.

I think also I perhaps have seen a glimpse of how remarkable my own recovery has been.  The film brought to mind how I used to be.  The me I am now is so completely different.  And I am awestruck.

BECOMING MYSELF

Recovery is never complete.It is an on-going process which never ends.  Yes, one does get to the point where one’s past does not rule one’s present. The flashbacks and night terrors lessen in both ferocity and frequency. The need for obsessive compulsive behaviour all but disappears.  The need for alcohol or recreational drugs or sugar or sex or in whatever form it takes, goes when one is no longer running from the pain.  This only happens when one has finally felt all that there is to feel.

When one is a child there is no way one is able to deal with the very powerful emotions that abuse gives rise to and if the abuse goes on over a long period of time it becomes impossible to do anything other than disassociate.  This gives rise to  obsessive compulsive behaviours that serve to keep the pain and fear suppressed.

For me it took the form of anorexia/bulimia and self harming.  Although I would not wish either of these on my worst enemy, if I had turned to alcohol and all drugs then my pain and shame would have been compounded and I may not have survived. I say this because society finds it easier to feel compassion for people who self harm or who have an eating disorder but they seem to only have hatred and disgust for alcoholics and drug addicts.

(It puzzles me that people have this attitude alcoholics and drug addicts.  Obese people and people who smoke cause harm to others and also use our resources and also steal-they steal time and resources through days off work etc.  All addictions cost all of us. Addiction is rooted in pain and suffering.  It is not the result of wanton lust or lack of self-control.  The hypocrisy of people who are obese and who smoke sneering at alcoholics and drug addicts would make me laugh if it were not so sad.)

Anyway, the point I was trying to make was that even though I have come an awful long way from those dark and fearful days and even though today I am happy and content and accepting and loving of myself, it does not mean that I do not feel sad sometimes that my family missed out on knowing me as I am.  I often keenly feel the lack of family.  In reality I have no idea what it feels like to be loved and accepted and nurtured by loving parents but I still feel the lack of it.

I am not one of these people that believe it was meant to be. That makes no sense to me whatsoever. If it were God’s will, then people who abuse children are fulfilling some divine plan.  I do not know about you but that thought makes me want to puke.  Then there are those who feel they are more enlightened who say that it is all a result of karma which is just another way of saying that people who abuse children are fulfilling some divine plan.  It is also a way of blaming the victim and thus avoiding having to feel or think too much.

It is possible to live and live well with the most appalling grief but only if one acknowledges it and feels it.  One can never put it down, always carried, but it stops being a burden that weighs one down.  Recovery does not make anything go away it just gives one the strength to live with what was and is.

It has not escaped my notice that I am the man I am today because of everything that I have been through or rather, because of what I have done with what I have been through.  We are not the result of what we have been through but rather the result of what we think about what we have been through.

The real abuse was the thinking pattern and belief system that I was given.  The belief in an exacting and judgemental God that viewed me as a sinful disgusting being and who not only saw my every action but knew my every thought.  The belief that I was a bad boy being justly punished by my good parents.  The belief that I was a very precocious child who seduced adults into having sex with me.  The belief that I was unworthy and unacceptable as I was.  The belief that I should for ever try and make up for the fact that I was not what my parents wanted.

It was changing my thinking pattern and my belief system that saved my life and gave me the good, productive, and satisfying life that I have today.  Of course this change did not come about quickly nor easily nor without tremendous pain that seemed to almost kill me.

I am aware that there are other survivors who read this blog.  I do not write my blog for anybody but myself but I feel the need to address you directly right now.

(What you really need to know is that people treat you or treated you the way they do or did because of who they are not because of who you are.)

You are not who you are because of what was done to you.  You are who you are because of what you think about what was done to you and that is the worst damage.  It is possible to change these thought patterns even for those of us that were spiritually/religiously abused as well. For those of us that were taught that to question was wicked. Most importantly you will not be struck down dead for telling, nor will you be punished.  When you find the courage to accept that you truly can choose what to think and believe you will have started upon the road to freedom.  This is really all that it takes to recover.  It is of course not an easy road at all but it is one that you must take or waste your life in needless suffering. Worse, if you have children of your own you cannot help but pass your damage on to them in ways that are subtle but insidious.  No! I am not saying that you will sexually or physically abuse them.  I am saying that you cannot give to your children what you have not got yourself and if you are unaware of how you are damaged there is no way that you can prevent that damage from damaging your own children.

If anybody had told me that I could have the life I have today even 15 years ago I would not have believed them.  If anyone had told me that not only could I be free from my past and grow to accept and love myself but that I could also live well  with 24/7 pain I would have thought they were completely nuts!

All of my dreams have come true. I am free, I have my dogs, and I have a man who loves me and respects me and treats me very well.  I did not ever dream of what I wanted to be other than I always wanted to be somebody else.  Instead I became myself and there is nobody else that I would rather be.

THE VERY HIGH COST OF CHILD ABUSE

I feel privileged and somewhat humble to realise that much of what I write on my blog has a positive effect upon other people.  Whether I am writing about childhood abuse, religious and spiritual abuse, all the trials of living with 24/7 pain.

Not only do people leave comments on my blog telling me how much they get out of what I have written, I also get e-mails from people all over the world sharing with me their stories of survival and pain.

It is truly remarkable to me that people do this and that this medium, the Internet, can be used in such a positive fashion.

When I first started writing my blog I did so anonymously but it soon became obvious to me that I must not be anonymous because there is no shame at all in what I am writing about.  It had begun to dawn on me that my writing was being read but I am truly amazed at how it has touched people meaningfully.

Those of us who are able to share in this manner must never think that there are millions of people suffering in this world in silence and secrecy.  In countries where freedom does not exist or even in our own countries where their freedom is severely curtailed by their family or by their church.

One thing that I know to be true and all of the evidence that I have received in the form of people sharing with me is that children are in far more danger from their own families and from strangers.  Yet we become hysterical about stranger danger and concentrate all our efforts upon it.  It is clear to me that the reason for this is that we are still in denial about the simple fact that the vast majority of children are abused in the home.

The spiritual abuse of children is rife and appallingly sanctioned by the majority of governments. If you doubt that spiritual abuse of children is a serious issue, you need look no further than the Westboro Baptist Church and countries like Iran and Afghanistan.  You need look no further than 7/7 and 9/11.

One only needs to listen to fundamentalist Christians, to the poor souls that have been homeschooled by fundamentalist Christian parents, to the filth spoken by the likes of Pat Roberts, all the rigid control the Roman Catholic church holds up over its followers, to see the damage that spiritual abuse does. Children indoctrinated in this way have their ability to think for themselves severely stunted.  Even those of us who have the temerity to ask why are filled with guilt and fear for so doing.  Not all are as lucky as myself.  In fact the majority are not.

Be it physical,be it sexual, be it emotional, be it spiritual the abuse of children causes us all to pay an extremely high price.

We do not value our children. By we I mean the human race I do not mean us in the West, nor do I mean those in the Middle East, or the Far East.  We all cripple our children.

The fact that we do not value children could not be more clear than in the example of state visit of the current Pope to Britain last year where he was met with much pomp and circumstance despite the fact that he is responsible for the horrendous sexual abuse of children and the hiding and protecting from justice the priests who committed this horrendous acts.  Whilst there were some brave souls who demonstrated, they were marginalised and Howard government showed that they to did not care truly about children.  There can be absolutely no reasonable argument in support of what the Pope has done and still does today. This is not in the past this is current. He still refuses to hand over any information to the legal authorities and worse the legal authorities who can be in no doubt that he is a criminal for aiding and abetting the abuse of children or hiding fugitives, do nothing.

Children are the future for us all whether we are parents or not. We are responsible for them.

It costs us dearly to ignore the problem of child abuse.  Just speaking about myself I have cost the taxpayer hundreds of thousands of pounds in health care and benefits as a direct result of my childhood.  The cost to us all of course is far more important than money but it seems that when one speaks about finances people take notice.

The abuse of children does not happen in isolation.  It happens because we all collude in it.  We do so by being afraid to speak about us suspicions, by not wanting to get involved, by not wanting to stand up and be counted, by not daring to put our heads above the parapet.  We are afraid of being shamed and vilified so we turn away.  We blithely vote in favour of faith schools.  We vote for cuts in childcare provision and social services.  We call for the physical punishment of children to be reinstated.  In fact we expended great deal of energy denying the real problem.

Many of those abused grow up to deny it completely and this enables them to either perpetuate abuse by becoming abusers or they demonise the survivors of abuse.  For example I was conversing with a woman the other day who had the most horrendous childhood and she cannot understand how her brother who was always the “good son” can deny the abuse meted out by their father.  I told her that the reason he denied it was that for him denial was much easier to live with them the true and certain knowledge that his parents did not love him.  For a child no matter what age to accept that he or she was not loved by their parents is truly the most devastating pain anyone can ever feel.  This betrayal and abandonment strikes at the very core of a person and it is extremely difficult to feel and survive intact.  However, it is not impossible and if we are to truly avoid becoming the problem, we must face this daemon and destroy it.  It most certainly can be faced head-on and destroyed.  Once done true freedom will be experienced.  The joy of finally understanding that you were never the problem is liberating.

People treat you the way they do because of who they are, not because of who you are.

IDEAS NOT PERSONS

Disagreeing with a belief system and saying so without condemning the holder of the beliefs and with out name calling or passing personal comment is not hate speech. It also is not atheism(!) I read plenty of hate speech here-speech that DOES condemn the person. I try hard not to be guilty of that and I have swiftly rectified it if I have made such an error. Pointing to inconsistencies in a belief system is not hate speech though I am not ignorant enough of people that I am not aware that some will lash out. I block those people. No second chances. Only one chance to abuse me. It surprises me that others just allow it by their silence although I ought not be really as that is why abuse of all kinds happen. I will, as long as I am able, speak my mind, decrying ideas that I see as harmful or moronic, pointing out why I do, and pointing out inconsistencies as I see them. I will continue to do so as I always have - without attacking the person as ideas and people are NOT the same thing.

I wrote the above words in response to a couple of really unpleasant personal attacks.  I did not address the individuals directly and I can no longer see any of their comments because I set my membership that way.

I find people who have set ideas find it very difficult to think outside of those ideas.  I am astonished by the amount people who conclude I am an atheist because I do not share their religious beliefs.  I also fail to understand why they classify disagreement over beliefs as hate speech. Certainly, much of what these people write I consider to be hate speech because they are attacking people and specifically a group of people.  There is no point yelling hate speech at them so I just point out the inconsistencies which is enough to get one a good flogging.

In this particular discussion people were praising the Arizona State government for making it illegal to picket funerals and thus preventing the Westboro Baptist Church from picketing the funerals of the people who were killed in the shooting a few days ago. some of the posters who were deeply critical of the WBC and described them as evil etc held exactly the same beliefs as them, they just behaved differently! That sort of inconsistency and self deceit ought to be pointed out by anyone who can see it. it is very possible to do so without attacking the person.  One will still be accused of it regardless but accusation is not truth.

 

Evil Nonsense From That Twit

Pope Blames 1970s Society for Pedophile Priests | Mea Culpa, Child Sex Abuse Scandals, Bishops & Cardinals | LiveScience

VENGEANCE-THE DEAD END

“You are acceptable just as you are. Right now. Right here. Not when you or others feel that you are good enough. But now. Who you are. Just as you are. No matter what you have done no matter what you will do.”

Above is what I wrote in my last post entitled GOOD ENOUGH. Below is part of a comment that was left in response to it:

I think, your last sentences could be misunderstood by some people and be taken as excuse for them being dangerous for themselves or others. "no matter what we do" could be interpreted by an amoral being in the way, that it would have proof of or be justified in the fact, that torturing or killing living, feeling fellow beings is o.k.

My first reaction to the comment was an inpatient sigh. Then when I began to think about it I realise that the comment illustrates very well the infection of the human mind by religion based upon rewards and punishments. As a result of this human beings just cannot see how any person could possibly behave well without the threat of supernatural punishment.

I believe the converse is true. I believe the more we tell people how bad they are and how they are going to be eternally damned for their badness, the more likely they are to behave badly.

However this is not really the issue. The issue is I made a statement of fact as I understand it as regards unconditional love. I am not about to change the definition of unconditional love because somebody may decide that as they are loved unconditionally just as they are they have carte blanche to do whatever they wish! One cannot turn the truth into a lie because of fear although of course this is done all the time. Hence the world we live in.

I do find it very sad that people seem unable to conceive of an unconditional love and also seem completely unable to imagine forgiveness let alone give it. We human beings just cannot abide by the idea that hateful acts should be met by love. We would rather continue to suffer ourselves just to see somebody else get what we think is their just deserts.

None of us are in any place to judge. We do not walk in anybody shoes but our own. As cliched as that is it is very true.

I know from my own personal experience that there is nothing more painful than facing the truth.NOTHING. I also know that the only way to attain peace is to face the truth and experience it.

Although I was unaware of it at the time, that my wishing nothing but peace for those people that made my childhood living hell, and much of my adult hood as a result, will mean that they will have to face the truth and feel it or they will not have peace.

What better justice is that? Anybody who has truly faced and felt the truth of the damage that they did, or they had done to them, knows of what I speak.

There is no other justice that makes sense. The idea that my abusers will be reincarnated as abusees is just sick and clearly has not been thought through. This type of Karma which many people believe in means that people who molest and terrorise and beat up children are only carrying out a divine plan!

There is nothing I could do to my abusers that would make them feel what I felt because they are not me. There is nothing that could be done to my abusers that would lessen in any way my own suffering.

It is my understanding that as part of spiritual growth, the attainment of peace, which I believe does not end with the death of the body, that each of us has to face the truth of our lives and the effect that we have had on others for both ill and good. To feel what we made others feel. Now that is justice.

Even if death is the end and there is no spirituality, then my contention that there is nothing I or anybody else could do to my abusers that would make up in any way for what was done to me still stands. I do not want anything for them other than peace. People who are at peace with themselves do not abuse other people. I certainly am not letting them have any more of my life by holding on to the idea that they must pay for what they did. If life is eternal, they will in the manner that I described. If life is a waste of time and when we are dead we are dead, well we won’t be around to give a shit will we?

I also know from first-hand experience that no matter how hard we repress, suppress, and deny the truth is always there and it will make itself known through pain and suffering in our lives.

Monsters do not just pop up out of nowhere.They are created. By us. By their parents. By society. By us. Until we accept this, it is likely that we will continue to suffer the results of such people in our societies.

If we cannot let go of our need for vengeance, if we do not stop denying our vengeance and calling it a desire for justice, we won’t know peace.

It is clear that the majority of people believe in a God of vengeance and damnation despite their protestations that their God is a God of love! Clearly a God who offers love with one hand and vengeance with the other is no better than human the reason being is our own human limitation that causes us to reject the idea of unconditional love out of hand because we cannot conceive of it ourselves. It might help if we stop confusing love with like, or emotional attachment. It is perfectly possible to love somebody one really does not like. It has nothing to do with the way that we feel, but with the way that we act. We can treat somebody well unconditionally. It really is possible. Doctors and nurses do it all the time! There is nobody that I would miss treat because of the way I feel about them. Now if that is possible for me, I certainly know it’s possible for you, and I cannot imagine the power of this kind of unconditional love from an omnipotent God.