I M Perfect lady

Author: bjukuri

  • One by One

    Below is a link to a podcast about a Laestadian woman's experience leaving her childhood religion and how abuse was weaved in.  Here is the link to the site.

    https://www.culturechatpodcast.com/helenalucia/

    It is always helpful to hear another person echo your experience. While the First Apostolic Lutheran Church isn't the same one she was raised in, they are quite similar.

    She makes reference between the affects from being raised in these type churches AND being abused, that both leave you with a damaged psyche.

    So, you are already damaged, and then abused.

    This is what I believe as well.  It makes the most sense in how so many will not report or leave relationships after abuse.  They are not with healthy boundaries prior to the sexual and or physical abuse.

    It does take a great effort to right your upside down psyche, and to leave family and the close knit circles.

    I love too, how she says that those who leave are worse than the worldly folk. We are evil.

    Thanks Helena for sharing your story.  Little by little we will poke holes in the fabric of what is presented to the public, as religions and families of high morals and values.

    Today, and actually for the past few weeks, I have been wondering what is my purpose, what would be the story I need to tell?  What has my experience been for?  

    Listening to her talk has shown me that it is important to tell a story different from the ones that so many families want to keep front and center.

    The narrative that doesn't have abuse, or ill effects from being raised where you believe your core center is sin. Where you have been controlled by fear and guilt.  There are serious negative outcomes from these religions. 

    When the voices are silent, only one voice is heard. The narrative that is minus abuse.

    We need to keep breaking the silence; one by one.

    19274820_10209402902852080_6346962021601971719_n

     

     

     

     

     

  • I got this.

    IMG_4724
    My biking adventure began at 6:40AM on Friday – I headed out optimistic.  About halfway to Houghton, I called my husband to come and meet me.  My load was too heavy, something had to go.  

    I then continued on, mentally dumping things – hiking poles, hat, two extra jackets, nightwear, rubber mallet, to name a few.

    I met my leader after I had pedaled about 9 miles. Her load looked light and compact and she was a smooth pedaler. I was in trouble.

    I fell into place behind two athletic looking women.  I was out of my element; but holding strong.

    We  then met up with a few locals who meet on Fridays for morning coffee – they commute to work daily.  One women was heading out to Wisconsin, she was fully loaded and her body looked strong enough to take on the task!

    IMG_4725

    My anxiousness was made even more so – these bodies and bikes were made for touring – how would me, my mountain bike and burley keep up?

    I had worries or concerns prior to the ride.  

    The hills – getting across the bridge pulling burley, being able to get in and out of the tent making a successful bathroom experience, going down hills with burley making me speed, to name a few.

    Yet each worry was met with success.

    OH, and the ladies I was on the adventure with were not familiar to me.  What was I doing, on this ride with ladies who have been riding trails and roads, and going on long out of state adventures?  Nothing like doing your first overnight camp/bike trip with seasoned in shape ladies!  

    IMG_4739

    But, I cycled on.   The hill outside of Lake Linden, I had to push burley and me up.  Just moving that load up the hill was a success!  

    Each long incline was met with angst and then achievement.  The miles rolled on.

    The first day total was 39 for me.  One of the ladies said, "We round up"….so, let say 40 then.

    IMG_4748

    Here I am with the woman who planned this and was my mentor and guide along the roads.  She slowed way down to keep up with me. She is one of my new role models!  She glided up that steep hill with loaded down bike like she was in her 20's. She is 69!

    IMG_4749

    Arriving at the beach we then went for a walk along the lake.  It was simply a perfect day!!!

    IMG_4752

    Mine is in the front – Big Agnes!  She did her job and kept me dry, even with the small thunderstorm we had on night two.  I hope her and I will go on more adventures!!

    Setting up our tents.  There were three of us who slept in tents the first night and two the second.

    IMG_4757

    My new friends are musical, and very inspiring on so many levels.

    IMG_4759

    I love her spirit of just playing and singing….my other new friend is 70 and she is a badass biker girl. And, she brought a nightgown to sleep in!  I loved her energy!! I hope I can spend more time with her!!!  

    IMG_4766

    Happy I made it through the first day!   IMG_4761

    The sunrise on day two!  Incredible!!!  

    IMG_4770

    Most of these ladies did 36 miles on day two.

    My new friend and I chose to take an easier ride. 

    IMG_4773

    Well, we did have an impromptu picnic first!  

    IMG_4772

    We sat and enjoyed the view…until the clouds rolled in.  We did 12 miles that day and felt it was perfect with the beach picnic.

    IMG_4779

    More music and great conversation on night two!  And, a small thunderstorm in the middle of the night.

    IMG_4784

    Sunrise day two!  I slept much better, it was a bit warmer and perhaps I was just plain tired.  

    Lots of new experiences, new friends, lots of great conversations and of course biking!

    I am glad I was able to head out despite my fears, worries and concerns.  All of which never arrived. And when each moment happened, I successfully navigated the way forward.

    IMG_4789

    This new friend is a hard core rider.  I kept calling her and her friend "girls"; they appear to be around 30, but are in their early 50's I think.

    IMG_4796

    Here we are at Rice Lake…about 11 miles into my 42 mile day.  Right after this picture, we turned a corner and headed up a few mile incline.  Yes, that is right a few miles of a 'slight' uphill.  I stayed on the bike and pedaled. My new biking friends told me to keep my shoulders loose and let my energy go to my legs. What a helpful hint.  Yet, it was still a climb!

    IMG_4800

    19 miles in we stopped for breakfast.  Once I sat down, I could have been done.  The weather then climbed to 73 and sunny. 

    Back on the bikes…we headed towards Hancock.

    After my second ride over the bride, pulling the burley, I was back on familiar territory.  OH my god, did it feel good!  I know these trails and they were beautiful!

    My leader and I parted ways after the trail and I headed into my last 9 miles alone.

    IMG_4803

    Oh what joy to be back in Chassell!

    IMG_4808

    I could almost feel the relief of getting off the bike!  As I rounded the bend at the end of Chassell, the temps dropped and headwinds picked up.  My last push to our road was hard on weary legs!

    IMG_4810

    Only two miles of gravel and I was home!

    IMG_4816

    The burley and I…did it!

    I am so grateful I went.  I loved that I was able to successfully accomplish the goals we had set and to override my fears and worries.  Feeling a little bit more self assured!

    I may not look like a badass biker chick; but yeah that's me!

    EHOT4123

    And look at the heavy load I pulled, pedaled and traveled with for 93 miles.

    Today, I rode for 42 miles!

    Three days of the new and unknown.  Meeting women I had never met before and finding new friends! 

    Challenges give you much more than you can ever know prior to heading out.

    Thank you to all the women who are role models in being adventurous, you ladies rock!

    Feeling tired in the best way ever…going out of my comfort zone and nailing it!

    Take that worries; I got this!

     

     

     

  • Exposed

    Every now and again a member of the FALC pops up and wants me to stop writing about my experiences of being abused AND the church on the same blog.  

    This one suggests the following – "It would be right and fair for you to remove the church's name from your blog as the church had nothing to do with the abuse you endured by your father."

    And, they want to sue me for defamation and libel.

    I had to look up defamation to see what it literally stood for and was I wrong in my writings.

    "the action of damaging the good reputation of someone; slander or libel."

    Slander– is a false statement.  

    I am not speaking falsely.  

    This is true for my experience.

    Libel – Publishing a false statement.

    Again, in my experience it is true.  As a member (now former) of the church I was abused. 

    I link the church in, for its influence on my family was huge. 

    Also, its teaching of the forgiveness of sins- created the perfect shield for my father and his sexual abuse.  They knew; but forgave and he continued on.  This is true; not a false statement.

    Based on my listening to victim's stories, I know that I am not a rare occurrence OR the only one.

    I also know, that what the members of the church want is to keep its reputation pure. And, if they can separate my father – the church remains untouched.

    I am here to tell you it is not pure; anymore.

    And, they want me to shut up about it.

    I am in the top 5 if you google "First Apostolic Lutheran Church" and that does not shine a positive light upon the church.

    So, they want to sue me to make it pure again.

    But will it???

    Will shutting me up help keep the integrity of the church.

    I am seen as one bad apple trying to spoil the whole bunch.

    What again bothers me, is that the ones who step forward care more about the reputation of the church than the possibilities of abuse being among its members.

    IF the preacher in the Calumet church is speaking about abuse from the pulpit and asking the abusers to turn themselves IN.  I am not the only one who speaks to tarnish the reputation of the church.  However, he is doing so in the confines of the church community.  I am out and public. 

    I did make a casual contact with a lawyer I know and ask his opinion.

    He said. "Truth is a defense." and, "As long as it's true, no one can stop you. The truth causes no damages to sue upon. Keep telling the truth."

    That is my intent.

    I know that I am making folks uncomfortable.

    The truth usually does that.

    Isn't there a saying "The truth shall set you free; but at first it will piss you off…or make you miserable."

    While I know there are some who squirm as I write, there are others who feel less alone.

    My voice isn't for the doubters; it is for those whose lives sadly echo mine. 

    Breaking the silence is not the easy path – for the reason that there are so many who are not wanting it to be broken.  

    Abuse is the place where silence is preferred.

    When you speak out –

    It ruins reputations.

    Wrecks families.

    Destroys lives.

    But, is the breaking silence to be blamed OR the person(s) who did the abusing.

    Be angry at me…but, I am not the one who is destroying the reputation of the church. It is instead the members within who abuse.

    I am one woman who has had the experience of being a member of the church and was abused.

    One woman who is writing about it.

    Your initial defense for the church and not its innocent members – is why it is so hard to speak up. 

    While they believe I am rare, what is more rare is a current member of the church who will volunteer to help eradicate abuse within the church (members).

    Those who have approached me, have done so to silence me and defend the church.

    And, they even want to almost separate the church from its members; both past and present.  

    Keeping it up high and out of reach from soiling.

    I would actually welcome an investigation.

    Bring it on.  

    Let us all shine a light and see what is exposed.

     

    "There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn't true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true." Soren Kierkegaard

     

    IMG_4419

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Definition of Me

    Estrangement 

    "The fact of no longer being on friendly terms or part of a social group."

    Clinging to my husband 13 years ago, I cried for my father, How He would die a very lonely death.  Believing, that his abusive behavior would leave him out in the cold from our family.  

    Little did I know, the tears I cried were for me.

    While writing words for a book I am playing with, I wanted to make sure the word estrangement worked for identifying me.  

    No longer friendly.

    I then pondered when did this unfriendliness happen and who began this energy flow.

    As a child was I born Unfriendly into a friendly environment and/or what made me become so "unfriendly"?

    Isn't it more true that my father's behavior of abuse was unfriendly.  My mother ignoring it unfriendly, as well towards me.  So, am I the one who started this estrangement, and why do we see the child (adult child) who leaves the relationship as being the one estranged.

    Instead of saying I am estranged, they are really the estranged parents.

    What do we call someone who stays with unfriendly folks?

    Is there a word for someone who leaves an unfriendly environment?

    Curious "refugee" popped up and,

    "A displaced person"

    That is a much truer statement, since I am not the one who created the unfriendly nature in my childhood home.  

    As I was writing, I came upon this by Alice Miller.

    "Experience has taught me that my own body is the source of all the vital information that has enabled me to achieve greater autonomy and self-confidence.  Only when I allowed myself to feel the emotions pent up for so long inside of me did I start extricating myself from my own past.  Genuine feelings are never the product of conscious effort. They are quite simply there, and they are there for a very good reason, even if that reason is not always apparent. I cannot force myself to love or honor my parents if my body rebels against such an endeavor for reasons that are well-know to it. But if I still attempt to obey the Forth Commandment, then the upshot will be the kind of stress that is invariably involved when I demand the impossible of myself. This kind of stress has accompanied me almost all of my life. Anxious to stay in line with the system of moral values I had accepted, I did my best to imagine good feelings I did not possess while ignoring the bad feelings I did have. My aim was to be loved as a daughter. But the effort was all in vain. In the end I had to realize that I cannot force love to come if it is not there in the first place. On the other hand, I learned that a feeling of love will establish itself automatically (for example, love for my children or love for my friends) once I stop demanding that I feel such love and stop obeying the moral injunctions imposed on me. But such a sensation can happen only when I feel free and remain open and receptive to all my feelings, including the negative ones."  Alice

    This could be the whole book on my journey.  How I followed my body, stopped obeying the commandment and no longer forced myself to try and feel feelings I did not have; with my parents.  

    My body was truthful – I couldn't be friendly to those who hurt me.

    Love truly arrived in its glorious feelings once I accepted, acknowledge and felt the volumes of negative feelings I had repressed.

    Genuine feelings are NOT the effort of a conscious effort.

    No matter how hard I tried to be the loving daughter, love didn't flow.

    It wasn't a genuine feeling for me.

    And, no wonder I was treated unfriendly by them.

    I love how my body is magnificently a truth detector; it truly never lies.

    Once I was on to my body and its ability to be genuine, so too could I be.

    I followed it.

    It has never failed me.

    I may be the displaced family member, but it is totally authentic for me to be outside the circle.

    Displaced is the correct identity for someone like me.

    Displaced from my family is a truer definition of me.

    IMG_4415 (1)

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • From Her Journey

    Death brings family together; naturally.  

    Unless you are on the outside. 

    All things stay the same; except completely different in their lives.

    I ponder her life, her soul and what she teaches. What is her legacy upon the land?

    How can I live to  honor her journey?

    A young woman I didn't know; yet knew.

    We both grew in the circle of the same family.

    What was her experience compared to mine?

    Was her pattern like mine?

    Were we more alike than different?

    We didn't seek each other out. 

    Nor, did our paths cross after I left the family.

    Estrangement's rules leave me with little choices. Or perhaps the stand against abuse has its own rules that I adhere to.

    As family circles close, I experience PTSD symptoms.  

    The old me arises from the ashes or is pulled by familiar threads.  

    Shaken awake, it wonders about our path.

    Are we walking in harmony with my truth and feelings?

    Do my actions match my experience?

    Am I being authentic or just a cold hearted bitch?

    What do estranged siblings do for each other when death arrives?

    Or, for that matter any family event?

    I am slung back to the original event, the moment of truth, that can't be ignored.

    The pivotal moment that changed me, and my life, still remains true today. 

    Abuse. Incest. Denial. The perfect storm that spun my world out of its well bred control.

    While no one is asking me to rejoin the family, it feels like I am made to chose me, over them, again.  The heart wrenching choice of being alone.

    My journey forward has been to be different.  To hold strong in moments where it would be easier to go weak. To capitulate and go along to get along.  To let go of my inner self to appease the crowd.

    The body responds with anxiety and the other markers of PTSD, at the idea of being in their presence.  It knows more than I.

    Wiser from experience.

    The wounded little girl inside of me knows, that by remaining with a new pattern of post traumatic growth, it is what I need to do.

    Growing is painful and yet very inspiring.

    Each time I can successfully walk the tough walk, I know I am changing my DNA or family  tendencies.

    While it hurts me to be outside the grief circle, I know that some will find great peace love and joy within.

    Her death will strengthen all of us.

    Some in the new pattern, and others will cling to the comforts of old.

    I get it.

    We all are led by that something inside of us.

    Nothing within me feels drawn to the family I left.

    Just as nothing within them feels the need to leave.

    We are both living out our truths.

    Apart.

    My heart's first expression was that of loneliness and deep sadness for her journey.

    Yet what can I know.

    Perhaps it is deep sadness for mine.

    I have a term "Brilliantly Tragic".

    That is how I often feel.

    Inside of me is an ocean of grief on the outer circles of family…along side the mountains of gratitude to be creating a new pattern.

    And, that is life.

    We embrace the tragic and celebrate the joy, love and peace.

    I will continue to live my life fuller and with more conviction to be me, in honor of her.

    May each of us take something from her journey.

    IMG_3748

     

     

     

     

     

  • Shawl of Love

    Happy Mother's Day has many different angles.  I am a mother, I am estranged from a mother, and my daughter is a mother.  Generations of women ahead and behind me. The past and the future connected by me.

    Mother's Day looking back at my mother leaves me empty, where praise and heroic memories should be.  I see the volumes of heavy obligations and escapes. Holes in her morals and values when they were needed the most. Her tapestry is weaved by her weakness, blindness and faithful love of her religion.  A shroud that leaves me out.

    I feel nothing to celebrate or praise.

    Nothing that draws me near.

    I know her fabric, for it was from there that I had to break free.

    I know its weight and confinement.

    I too was dead, but breathing.

    Busting out of the heavy cloak of denial is what has set us apart.

    I see, feel and can move independently.

    My freedom and awareness dance lightly in reality.

    And yet, there are strings and threads of my past.

    I cannot get a different childhood and parents.

    My estrangement will always set me apart.

    From those whose lives are untouched by abuse and those who still hold tightly to relationships laced in abuse.

    I am between both worlds.

    Different.

    A third path.

    New

    I celebrate those who are strong enough to break free of old patterns, of letting go from dysfunctional families, to be resolute in the separation.

    The distance between my mother and I, is what will give my granddaughter a new legacy.

     

    Sheryl Sandberg spoke of Post Traumatic Growth, in her book “Option B”.

    “The one I will become will catch me.”

    I love this.
    
I truly know what it is like to have to become the one to catch me.

    It was to become the mother I needed to mother me.

    That is post traumatic growth.

    Using trauma to grow is how we change the legacy of abuse.

    I celebrate the post traumatic growth Moms.

    Women who have gone against the pull of family in order to create a new pattern; one free of dysfunction and abuse. Those who show great post traumatic growth!  They are worth celebrating!

    They stand alone, strong, brave and empowered; Badass Moms.

    Who I became caught me; and with her I face a future filled with hope, love, peace and joy!  

    IMG_3857

    Happy Mother's Day, celebrate women who changed their families legacy; by being stronger than the circumstances of their childhoods.

    Women who love themselves enough to tear their patterns apart and recreate a new shawl of love!

     

     

     

     

  • Powerful You

     

    The weather is the universe, or reality, begging us to accept what is.  And, a reminder that we can plan and hope and dream and then reality walks in.

    Winning, only but 100% of the time.

    This week, reality was Icy Rain.

    Instead of biking weather.

    Freezing into snow, making the hiking trails wet and slippery.

    I was so ready to ride my bike and deliver mail with my elbow out the window and have Spring Breezes carrying the scent of blossoms; but we had snow.

    Stinging beads of snow.

    Splashing through frozen mud puddles.

    Not accepting what is, kept me out of my life.

    In a place of wishing.

    Which is powerless.

    Nothing happens there.

    I didn't go out and play with this harsh nature.

    Some did.

    And they got wonderful bold pictures of Lake Superior.

    It was like I made myself a promise to sit until the sun shined again.

    What a waste of a few days, which turned into a week of zero exercise.

    No fresh air, besides what floated in while I delivered the mail.

    I can see how easily it is to blame an outside source for how we live and move, or don't.

    Something within me wasn't strong enough to push out in the inclement wet weather.

    Perhaps even thankful for the 'excuse' to do nothing.

    I felt a victim of the weather.

    Instead of a badass who danced with its bold strong winds and freezing temps.

    Blaming the other for our weak response is the walk of powerlessness.

    It seems that life and nature have a way of creating the perfect storms for us to grow more badass.

    Accept the invitation of what is.

    It is here to create a more powerful You!

    IMG_3593

     

     

  • The way forward!

     

     

     

    It seems to me that we are a society of "Excessive Tolerance".  

    We place the well being on society changing BY us being more kind.

    Really?

    Rendering a good portion of society incapable of improving. Keeping them LESS, and we are More.

    Being Kinder, adds to our column of self-worth.

    Who would you be without the worth of kindness?

    What would happen IF you became honest instead of kind?

    We have a strange way of not setting boundaries with folks closest to us; out of kindness.

    It is as if to say, our family is incapable of honoring and respecting our boundaries.

    IF this is so, how have they been taught to believe this?

    Who set in place the dynamics of family and each person's responsibility?

    How is it, that many families, have those who have bad behavior that the 'kinder' folks have to tolerate…excessively!

    This lopsided awkward family relationship most likely was set in place as we watched our parents interact and even how we were made to act with our parents.

    I know that I was raised in with this lopsided awkward gait when it comes to family relationships.

    In fact, I was the 'kind' one for 46 years.

    It was my identity and my value.

    Funny, how we feel better tolerating poor behavior.  We need and like the "Better" feelings this brings.

    In fact, the hardest part of being estranged IS being seen as 'unkind' due to my boundaries.

    It was as if my excessive tolerance had hit its bursting point.

    I could literally not tolerate the sheer volume of behavior that I was being asked to tolerate.

    It blew up my tolerance holder.

    I literally can't even begin to overlook, look around and shy away from what others do.

    And, I am taking total control of my own responsibility button.

    I do not expect that kindness will keep me in a relationship.

    I have to do my part.

    And, this too isn't easy.

    I was raised in lazy relationships, where no matter what I did, family kept family around.

    They were kind that way.

    Until, I my tolerance ran out.

    I couldn't pretend their actions didn't matter.

    They did.

    And, still do.

    My actions matter.

    My life is made or unmade by how I act.

    Who I am isn't made by the kindness of others.

    That codependent lifestyle is long gone.

    Codependency eclipsed my inner self.

    In fact, I didn't exist, when others looked away.

    I danced, acted, talked and did so that others were kind to me.

    I was a puppet for kindness.

    Devoid of a self.

    Between religion moving me back and forth, and my need to please, my life was not mine to live.

    This idea of excessive tolerance, actually needs to be addressed as excessive kindness.

    We act like dropping kindness over poor behavior will make the behavior disappear or be reversed.

    I believe the kindest thing we can do for ourself and others is to be intolerant.

    Face everything as it happens, as it is, and dance with reality's truth.

    Humanity is coming to a new level of awareness and consciousness, where we will all be asked to see who we are, what we do and how our actions affect the generations who follow us.

    Which leads to the book I love "The Body Keeps Score".

    We can pour kindness over bad behavior; but the body knows this is not the answer.

    Our legacy, our children and their children will live out the affects of abuse, unless we are the ones who address it, and not be kind to it.

    The only kindness that will literally change the trajectory of each generation beyond us, is self-kindness.

    We have to be the change WE want to see in the world.

    Being kind to me, has brought me much pain and separation; and brilliant exciting adventures of Me!

    Intolerance is the way forward!

    IMG_3382

    Ride like the Wind towards your own happiness, love, peace and joy!

     

     

     

  • The Body Keeps Score

    "The Body Keeps Score" by Bessel Van Der Kolk M.D. is the most comprehensive book I have read about the affects of childhood trauma on our lives.  And, how the medical community is in the learning stages of how to effectively deal with adult children of abuse.

    I am listening to this book, but ordered the hard copy to use as a reference.

    Here is about the brain and trauma…  This is long but so insightful as to what happens in the brain.

    "SHIFTING TO ONE SIDE OF THE BRAIN"

    The scans also revealed that during flashbacks, our subjects' brains lit up only on the right side. Today there's a huge body of scientific and popular literature about the difference between the right and left brain. Back in the early nineties I had heard that some people had begun to divide the world between left-brainers (rational, logical people) and right-brainers (the intuitive, artistic ones), but I hadn't paid much attention to this idea.  However, our scans clearly showed that images of past trauma activate the right hemisphere of the brain and deactivate the left."

    "We now know that the two halves of the brain do speak different languages. The right is intuitive, emotional, visual, spatial, and tactual, and the left is linguistic, sequential and analytical. While the left half o the brain does all the talking, the right half of the brain carries the music of the experience.  It communicates through facial expressions and body language and by making sounds of love and sorrow: by singing, swearing, crying, dancing, or mimicking. The right brain is the first to develop in the womb, and it carries nonverbal communication between mother and infants. We know the left hemisphere has come online when children start to understand language and learn how to speak. this enables them to name things, compare them, understand their interrelations, and begin to communicate their own unique, subjective experiences to others."

    "The left and right sids of the brain also process the imprints of the past in dramatically different ways. The left brain remembers facts, statistics, and vocabulary of events. We call on it to explain our experiences and put them in order. The right brain stores memories of sound, touch, smell, and the emotions they evoke. It reacts automatically to voices, facial features, and gestures and places experienced in the past. What it recalls feels like intuitive truth – the way things are. Even as we enumerate a loved ones virtues to a friend, our feelings may be more deeply stirred by how her face recalls the aunt we loved at age four."

    "Under ordinary circumstances the two sides of the brain work together more or less smoothly, even in people who might be said to favor one side over the other. However, having one side or the other shut down, even temporarily, or having one side cut off entirely (as sometimes happened in early brain surgery) is disabling."

    Deactivation of the left hemisphere has a direct impact on the capacity to organize experience into logical sequences and to translate our shifting feelings and perceptions into words. Without sequencing we can't identify cause and effect, grasp the long-rem effects of our actions, or create coherent plans for the future. People who are very upset sometimes say they are "losing their minds." In technical terms they are experiencing the loss of the executive functioning."

    "When something reminds traumatized people of the past, their right brain reacts as if the traumatic event were happening in the present. But because their left brain is not working very well, they may not be aware that they are reexperiencing and reenacting the past – they are just furious, terrified, enraged, ashamed, or frozen.  After the emotional storm passes, they may look for something or somebody to blame for it. They behaved the way they did because you were ten minutes late, or because you burned the potatoes, or because you "never listens to me." Of course, most of us have done this from time to time, but when we cool down, we hopefully can admit our mistake. Trauma interferes with this kind of awareness, and over time our research demonstrated why."

    "STUCK IN FLIGHT OR FIGHT"

    "What happened to Marsha in the scanner gradually started to make sense. Thirteen years after her tragedy we had activated the sensations – the sounds and images from the accident – that were still stored in her memory. When these sensations came to the surface, they activated her alarm system, which caused her to react as if she were back in the hospital being told that her daughter had died. The passage of thirteen years was erased. Her sharply increased heart rate and blood pressure reading reflected her physiological state of frantic alarm."

    "Adrenaline is one of the hormones that are critical to help us fight back or flee in the face of danger. Increased adrenaline was responsible for our participants' dramatic rise in heart rate and blood pressure while listening to their trauma narrative. Under normal conditions people react to a threat with a temporary increase in their stress hormones. As soon as the threat is over, the hormones dissipate and the body returns to normal. The stress hormones of traumatized people, in contrast, takes much longer to return to baseline, and spike quickly and disproportionately in response to mildly stressful stimuli. The insidious effects of constantly elevated stress hormones include memory and attention problems, irritability, and sleep disorders. They also contribute to many long-term healthy issues, depending on which body system is most vulnerable in a particular individual."

    "We now know that there is another possible response to threat, which our scans are't capable of measuring. Some people simply go into denial. Their bodies register threat, but their conscious minds go on as if nothing has happened. However, even though the mind may learn to ignore the messages from the emotional brain, the alarm system signals don't stop. The emotional brain keeps working, and stress hormones keep sending signals to the muscles to tense for action or immobilize and collapse. The physical effects on the organs go on unabated until they demand notice when they are expressed as illness. Medications, drugs, and alcohol can also temporarily dull or obliterate unbearable sensations and feelings. But the body continues to keep score…."

    He goes on to say further on:

    "For a hundred years or more, every textbook of psychology and psychotherapy has advised that some method of taking about distressful feelings can resolve them. However, as we've seen, the experience of trauma itself gets in the way of doing that. No matter how much insight and understand we develop, the rational brain is impotent to talk the emotional brain out of its own reality. I am continually impressed by how difficult it is for people who have gone through the unspeakable to convey the essence of their experience. It is so much easier to talk about what has been done to them, to tell a story of victimization and revenge – than to notice, feel, and put into words the reality of their internal experience."

    "Our scans reveal how their dread persisted and could be triggered by multiple aspects of daily experience. They had not integrated their experience into the ongoing stream of their life. They continued to be "there" and did not know how to be "here" – fully alive in the present." Bessel

     

    What we call mental illness, often is the affects of living through a traumatic childhood.  Our brains are literally affected – while our bodies truly keep score.

    I highly suggest listening to this book, if you want to understand your own traumatization or that of someone you love.  This book makes complete sense to me and how inept our medical system is to help us navigate through our affects of early childhood trauma! 

    Often the diagnosis isn't childhood trauma, but the effects of it.  

    How our body responds and not the cause of it.  We often treat the symptoms but not the cause. And, how do we treat childhood trauma, compared to how we treat depression???

    I love this book on so many levels!

    Incredible information – The Body Keeps Score! What an amazing human body we live in!

    IMG_3530

     

  • I disagree

    Kindness can often mean "Excessive Tolerance" – Danielle La Porte

    I love this.

    I have felt that I am asked to be tolerant, more than being kind.

    Tolerant of behaviors that are hurtful or unkind.

    When does one get to decide their own level of tolerance?

    Is kindness truly being excessively tolerant?

    I have felt that I am unkind, due to my lower levels of tolerance. 

    I had to look up the definition of Tolerance.

    the ability or willingness to tolerate something, in particular the existence of opinions or behavior that one does not necessarily agree with.

    This is why I sometimes struggle with 'kindness'.

     

    We are asked to ignore the behavior and "be kind", regardless whether we agree with it or not. 

    It has always seemed like a victim stance to me. 

    A powerless place to be in.

    Being kind can often mean excessive tolerance with bad behavior.

    How can we maintain our own integrity and not tolerate something we do not agree with AND, still be kind?

    What is kind to poor behavior?

    Or, what is healthy and respectful to you?

    And even respectful to the one who is doing something wrong?

    Is it kind to ignore bad behavior?

    Is our kindness dependent upon our tolerance?

    If this is so, I am not very kind.

    IMG_3485

    I have a very low tolerance for agreeing with something I disagree with.

     

    A few days ago, I had someone comment on one of my blog posts…and wanted to chat via email; but remain anonymous.  My disagreement to chatting with a faceless, nameless person was seen as me having "negative assumptions".

    Really?

    They wanted to place responsibility of our 'lack of communication' on me. 

    I am the problem, cause I didn't agree with them being faceless; I am unkind.

    In my world, I get to decide who and how I communicate.

    I may be seen as unkind, but it isn't kind to me to agree when I disagree.

    IMG_3489