I M Perfect lady

Tag: FALC

  • We either hide your sins or own our lives.

    The main belief or what keeps the faith going is this one paragraph that Jim Torola wrote about in his Post, “Why no Movement.”

    “Or the FALC trump card, "it was forgiven in Jesus' Name and Precious Blood, thrown into the bottom of the sea of grace, forgiven and forgotten, and if anyone brings up this again, they will take on that sin."  Jim Torola    http://jimtorola.typepad.com/blog/

    Anyone who has not been raised on this concept may find this strange, but if you have been taught since you were a young girl, that this is true; you will not go diving into the sin lake to retrieve anything.

    Diving into the sin lake, sins will attach to you like suckers in a stagnant pond…and you are ‘bad’ for just wading into the waters, for ‘thinking’ about past sins…let alone going back in and dragging them to surface.

    I am not sure I can impress upon those who are walking the narrow road what it is you all are actually doing.

    You are teaching children that when you tell, nothing will be done for them, but great magical acts will be done for the bad man.  And all matter of shame will be brought upon you for ever speaking of this matter again.

    As Pete Torola so succinctly put it, “What is your motive for telling?”

    Why little girl are you going back to the sea of Grace and dragging out Ray’s sins? 

    “Oh yea of little faith, don’t you believe it has been blessed away?”  To what end do you want to drag this dirty filthy deed to surface???  Don’t you know its bad to do this?

    What is so utterly mind blowing is that the adults never doubted the girls recounting, but instead did insane things with this information.

    If you only knew what that does for a child who has been abused, to be heard, but then no action to arrest, stop or curtail these activities.

    We tell the adults and the adults do nothing.

    Oh wait, they do do something, they take our pain, suffering, fear and anguish and toss it away, paying no attention to how we feel.  It is more important to bless the bad man and put his ‘acts’ away, and then threaten us if we bring it up…again.

    For they want to get to Heaven…and the way to heaven is to bless, bless, bless, repeatedly, forever, and NEVER speak of it again. 

    The way to Heaven is to make the bad men whiter than snow…and the way is littered with the souls of little children.

    I can’t know what you all feel as you sit your bottoms down on the benches, but I am here to tell you what your techniques of dealing with sins do for an abused child.

    It gives the abuse child nowhere to go, no one to hear, and no one to see them.  They become invisible and discarded, useless, worthless…trash, the litter along your path to heaven.

    I recall writing and actually giving a narrative of what it felt like…even without memories, I had a distinct recollection of not being able to get out of the hellhole.

    What is a hellhole many may ask? 

    You know what the hellhole looks like; it is the bottom of the Sea of Grace.

    Pedophiles swim down there and drag little girls there repeatedly…while you all ‘believe’ that they disappeared.

    A hellhole is a place where you have no power, no choice, no way out. You are left alone in your mind without adult supervision while your father does the unspeakable, you can speak, but you can’t be heard.  They can see, but turn away…you are too little and they are sooo big. You are living in an alternate universe from the adults around you. They speak of loving kindness, you feel utter helplessness and fear.

    I was lost in the sea of Grace and no one cared…

    In order to survive the sea of Grace you have to kill your spirit, drug your feelings, check out and live in the pretend place the adults live.  Where a pedophile is a dad…

    I know why kids do drugs, kill themselves; they can’t take the sea of Grace no more.

    While you all are blessing him, you are making us Live in the Sea of Grace…or what it really is The Lake of Sins.

    I lived and swam and finally got used to living in the Lake of Sins.  Its twisted mess became my normal.  Silently you swim around, not speaking of what you see, how you feel…you are disconnected like debris…unattached drifting amidst the other despicable things.  You fit in there, you feel as one with all the disgusting things, you are unworthy and useless, for the caring adults didn’t care.

    It is incredible to me, that when you don’t see our wounds we become them…you don’t have to bless us, we naturally are attracted to the sins you tossed away…

    When you don’t see us as innocent, we no longer feel it.

    Funny, in a tragic way…you always seen and made sure that Ray stayed innocent…

    He stays clean and I get dirtier…I have to keep this a secret so the adults stay clean. 

    I have broken the silence, the gig is up, it is over.  I came to shore, I left the Lake of Sin, and I am talking about it, writing about it, and hoping against hope, there is one little girl out there in her own hell hole who will hear me calling her name.

    I see you.

    I hear you.

    I know you are there.

    I am here to tell you, you are not alone.

    The only way out is to stop holding the secret.

    The threat of sins is simply that a threat.

    There is no sea of Grace, but a lake of sin.

    You live there and you can walk free.

    Get out.  Speak out. Stop holding on to sins of others.  We all carry our own…the sea or lake lives within us.  We either hide your sins or own our lives.

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    What we feel like before we were abused…

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    and how we feel after… This is the Sea of Grace in the FALC where

    the abused children are made to live, for the 'dad' is clean and we are not.

  • Total Contradictions…

    There is a difference between suspecting something and actually knowing or reading in plain English what you feared or intuitively felt…but once you read it it doesn’t go away.

    It nestles up closely with the feelings and they become one.

    The truths click together like a magnet and you can’t force them apart. 

    What I now know is that the Christian neighbors who toot their high moral and high value ways are not able to walk the walk of morals and values. 

    Adults in my childhood world crumbled and their character turned to ash…this I felt about 6 years ago… without proof I had felt deep to my bones that they knew and did nothing.  They were no better than my mother.

    Jim Torola’s blog, has an interesting view of the members of the FALC and child sexual abuse, and he shows that my family and neighbors are not unusual, but perhaps this is an ongoing practice, handed down from generation to generation whose legacy are tainted with abuse. http://jimtorola.typepad.com/blog/

    What I too find so telling is the longevity and the multiple families who happened to all deal the same way, like there is an unwritten or unspoken rule, just a knowing…keep it quiet and away from the hands of the police.

    Detective Tom Rosemurgy speaks of what makes his job of getting the pedophiles off the street so difficult.

    “…without somebody with first hand knowledge (a victim) stepping up first, my hands are tied.  Most folks in (or out) of the church aren't too willing or eager to speak on such matters.  And If I try to start there, more often than not, the victims are taken care of with threats before I can speak with them.  I am always more satisfied with results when I can speak to a victim before the predator or the predator's family knows I am out and about.”

    The last line is so haunting…

    It seems literally a miracle that a child would step up and speak out when the whole family and church are trying to keep this away from the police.

    Hear that, they are trying to keep this info away from the law.  And in my case, oh my, did they do a good job.  For forty year they dodged the law.

    Now tell me who all should be sitting in jail???

    The law is simply not the normal course of action for sexual abuse within the FALC.  And it hasn’t been for years and years…. 

    I know this, for No one called the police.  NO One….come on people what is up with that???

    They will use the law for car wrecks, breaking and entering of their homes, but no report is written up when the children are broken into and wrecked, NO one calls the police.

    Am I the only one who can see the insanity of this?

    In my little corner of the world, I would have presumed many things about the good people of my church, I had them with a rock solid moral compasses, with values that were of a higher standard than the run of the mill criminal, now I am no longer sure as to who they are.

    What does it say about you if you are not sharing information about criminal sexual conduct against a child, be it your child or the neighbor’s child, be it a Christian or non believer?  What does it say about your moral compass if you willingly keep this away from the hands of the law???

    Are you not aiding and abetting criminals?

    I have made a general sweep of the congregation of the FALC as being co-conspirators for pedophiles. How they are knowingly hiding them among their pews…by NOT going to the police.  And it wasn't just my family, it is many families through the ages. 

    I do know and have known that the major factor in these sex rings is that the predator is a family member and the families are ‘in good standing’ among the church members and the church is one of ‘high morals and high values’ and this would not sit well to uncover pedophiles within.

    What I had said in the very beginning of this was that I trusted a whore.  She didn’t act or portray anything else.  She was a whore, charged for sex as whore does, but she wasn’t sitting in church on Sunday proclaiming her piety.

    What totally blows my mind is that people who sit in church on Sundays, and then act like criminals.  Who are you? 

    I love ducks that act like a duck, walk like a duck and quack like a duck.

    Which is why I sought out nature… nature always was what you seen….a tree remained a tree no matter what time of the day or day in the week it stayed the same when I looked at it.  I loved its stability…The FALC and its members are total contradictions…  

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  • Sit and hear Why.

    It almost seems like my father’s life and its impact it had on so many little girls is the classic case, the textbook example of what happens when you ignore the truth.

    What happens when you feel a certain way, but tuck it away and not address it…for I had very strong feelings of not trusting him and certainly never wanted to be near him…this was just the way it was from the time I was so little.  I just never questioned myself or delved deeper in to why.

    The truth of my fear was never explored.  And in fact I grew to become accustomed to just being a person who didn’t have warm feelings towards her parents.  I never questioned why, I just lived this way, it was my normal set point.

    My parents determined my set point, and I never challenged why we were this way, it just was.

     When you are not able to discuss the whole truth of our lives, you are then living in this weird spot way above truth in a place called pretend.

    They pretended to be loving parents and I pretended to feel love…and I never felt I could challenge them, nor was there a great urge to do so, to blatantly just flat out want to lay it all on the table.  I am thinking subconsciously, I knew that once I crossed the line of no longer pretending, all hell would break lose…and it would have.

    Just by tugging on one little string, the whole ball of wax would have come undone.

    While I can understand that inside of our house how we would have had so much to lose by seeking the truth of our fears and suspicions, I am not really clear as to why the outside wasn’t able to be reckless with abandon and come in demanding the truth to be exposed.

    How is it that the parents of the neighborhood were not picketing outside of our driveway, demanding his arrest for what he did to their daughters?

    What stopped them? 

    Keeping them away from Ray is what I did.  I tried to stay back from him. My sisters tried to stay back from him…and I can understand the kids without an option to just stay away, but I still can’t comprehend how a parent who hears their child’s story…doesn’t take it to the law.

    My mother’s reasons were clouded in love and wanting to keep the family together at all costs. Her facing the truth would have destroyed her whole family as she knew it.  Her pretend loving husband and untouched girls would have come tumbling down.  She would have to face things she ignored for years.

    But what did the neighbors have to lose by prosecuting Ray?

    What stopped them from taking this to the 9/10’s of the law? 

    And this is being done in three separated homes and during the span of many years.  It didn’t all happen during one bad month…or a particularly awful summer, it went on for years in the same neighborhood.  Different girls and different parents same perpetrator and similar reaction.  No law was involved.

    Again, I can see what my mother would have to lose, she would lose everything…but as a neighbor what would you have to lose?

    My father wasn’t the cement that held the neighborhood together to make it this wonderful place to live, he made it a living hell for the girls, and yet the outside wasn’t willing to prosecute…and it just doesn’t make sense to me.

    Even the minister… why would he ask about motives for telling on a man who seldom, and I mean seldom sat his butt down on a church bench?  And not be stricken by the fact that a little girl is telling him of her wounds…instead to immediately go to the defense of Ray.

    Most it seems seemed to care more about what would happen to Ray, than what was happening to the girls, like they immediately swing their heads in the wrong direction, instead of moving heaven and earth to protect the child, they first consider what this information will mean to Ray and even perhaps to themselves. 

    It is the lack of police reports on this man for over 40 years that is so telling…and I am sure the reasons are varied and complex and believable by each person who did what they each did at the time.

    I am sure they understand their decisions.

    While I had feelings of being afraid of my father, I had no pictures, so I couldn’t know why…and when I heard that he molested my niece I immediately had my answer…But what I hadn’t expected was that others knew.

    I was blown sideways by the fact that I felt I was the last to know, like a wife of a cheating husband, it seemed that everyone knew and talked about what I didn’t know.

    No one but me seemed to be too surprised.

    While I was sent reeling and tumbling into an abyss others continued on with life as normal, for they had this information now for 30 to 40 years.  It wasn’t new news, but just the same old story coming around again.

    I was 46, and as incredible as it seems this information had been in place in other people’s homes and minds…the answer to my puzzled life.

    And I could tell immediately by the reaction of so many, that I was the last to know…and they now began turning away from me.  Which seemed even weirder.  We are all on the same page so let’s talk.  And yet, by this time…I knew who my friends were and what they kept from me and the cost. 

    I wasn’t really open to listening…and I am unsure today, I would still want to sit and hear why.

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  • Who Knew and Turned Away.

    The evidence report adds credence to my journey, it gives supporting evidence, names, locations, and sets the tone or energy of what I felt towards my father.   It takes this inner feeling that I had and makes it public knowledge.

    This public knowledge sits so heavily upon me, for years I watched and waited for a reaction that would tell me that others seen my father as Not Normal, yet he was always treated normally, so my feelings that he wasn’t right went unsubstantiated. 

    I had to look up Unsubstantiated.

    1.             Unsubstantiated means, unverified: not proven factually.

    Synonyms: unconfirmed, unproven, unsupported, uncorroborated

    The greatest tragedy is that I waited for an adult or any person to verify that what I felt about my father was true.  That my terror feelings were spot on, and yet no one led on to what they knew or suspected.

    I was left alone unsupported with this knowledge and my body refused to let go of.

    I am thinking what is a deeper wound than the abuse itself is to then have your feelings of the event go unconfirmed.

    No one wanted to corroborate what I had experienced and what fills my body with incredulousness is that I now have facts, verifiable facts, and supported data showing that they knew, but kept this information from me. 

    When I need an adult the most, they failed to support me.

    Here is what I read yesterday…

    “Jenich spoke with Marvin Heinonen, retired Houghton County Protective Services Manager.  Marvin informed myself that indeed Ray Huhta has been under suspicion for at least THIRTY years for sexual assaulting his own children and most of the young girls in the Saint Mary’s Location neighborhood north of Hancock.”

    (a paragraph has info on a victim, so I am excluding it)

    “Marvin Heinonen said back then and even into the later years when Ray Huhta was suspected of molesting girls, there seemed to be a cover up all the time, meaning people in the church and family members would not believe that Ray Huhta could be doing this.  Marvin said the information kept resurfacing for years that Ray Huhta is a pedophile, molesting his girls…”

    One victim wrote in her statement about her family contacting Peter Torola of the Apostolic Luthern Church that she was molested by Ray Huhta. She recalls Torola’s response to her, “What is your motive in telling on Ray Huhta?”  She also stated that three more victims approached minister Pete Torola after she left the area and nothing was done.

    Another victim said her parents confronted Ray and he denied the whole time, from that point on her family’s children were forbidden to go to the Huhta house.

    What was more horrifying to learn so many years ago, was not only did I have to find peace with having a pedophile for a father, but I also learned that so many knew and did nothing.  That 30 years ago he was suspected and the girls told to stay away…

    And some knew 40 years back and at the time wanted to know the ‘motive’ for telling on Ray. Telling on Ray.  Really?

    Imagine that?  Like we are gossips?… And how telling is it that Pete Torola didn’t disbelieve it, he just wondered about the motive for telling.

    Perhaps he had a motive to keep it silent…for a child’s only motive is for you all to see what we see, for you to change your ‘normal’ definition to not normal.

    I guess I wasn’t prepared to hear the details of the little girls, and had braced myself,  but I hadn’t expected the stories held bits and pieces of how uninterested the adults were about the children in the Huhta house.

    I am not meaning to lessen the girls in my neighborhood who were abused by my father, but what stands out is that their parents warned them away from our home, but no one came and took us out.

    I have six sisters…plus eight brothers, and we lived with the Pedophile and his wife. That was our only home.

    We were left there knowingly.

    Somehow, I would feel slightly better if no one knew…if we had gone underneath the radar, an incest nest undetected, but instead it was operating in full plain view and many just turned their heads away from the Huhta children living within.

    What does a person do with this information?

    How do your process the minister’s neglect or Protective Services suspecting but without follow through or neighbors keeping their children away with no heed to us living full time with a ‘suspected’ pedophile. 

    Surely these are actions of an enemy and not of a friend.

    I am not bitter or angry, but I am wise and now validated, vindicated…but it is a hollow victory.

    You find out no one was standing for you…you never mattered enough.

    The main reason I am working with Tom Rosemurgy, is I refuse to be one of the adults who knew and turned away…

     

  • Who is Behaving Badly?

    What stayed with me is how off balance the justice system is where the victims get a ‘court appointed attorney’ called prosecutor and the perpetrators get the option to pay for a high powered expensive, save your ass lawyer.

    How is it that the system was set up this way, where each victim is already without options before the trial even begins?

    As I read through my father’s evidence file, everything was off…except the girl’s reports.  They were right on.

    What was off was that in the history of the little girls stories, it was almost always noted, that an adult knew, was in the room or had been told, but not believed. 

    How off is that? 

    The children had been talking, telling and no one was listening. Then, a Detective arrives in our home, we give once again our stories add a touch of hope that this time, the Bad Man will get punished…and nothing bad happens to him and our faith and hope are dashed once again.

    He wins, he carries on as if 'nothing bad' has happened.

    I hadn’t truly considered the volume of abuse, while I had knew there were many…many seems so oblique. 

    But when you read names and descriptions and locations and what my father is wearing, where he is sitting and then how he ensnares a little girl to sit with him in his kindness and laid back ways and then how strong he becomes in keeping them upon his lap…Forcible Contact on his penis, it sharpens the focus and makes him even more a pedophile if that is possible.

    My friends wrote, and theirs were not table abuse if you will, but mentioned instead tents and beds…rape and masturbation… I can see his technique changed over time, perhaps age or laziness or just the threat of being caught increased…

    My friend’s stories match my fragmented memories of sneaking out of his bed…in terror of waking him.  I now have collaborating evidence to my body’s feelings of him.

    Nothing is off in their stories, nothing doesn’t make sense, all are literal confirmations of who my father is.  They all add up to the same definition, and yet at the end of his trial he walks free.

    It would seem with the volume of evidence remembered, the outcome would have gone better for us, but we didn’t know who we were entrusting our stories to.

    Doug Edwards Prosecuting Attorney was suppose to serve up our justice, but he didn’t allow most of us into the courtroom, our stories lay without a serving of justice, just tucked into a file to remain in the dark.

    How was justice any different than the church’s blessing and forgiving and wanting us to forget?

    It seems there is a very off pattern here, children speaking and the forces that be or the higher powers, neglecting to do their part.

     What is and always has been consistent over the 40 years of this abusive reign my father has been on, is that the children are the only ones doing their part.

    Each time they are asked they tell the truth.

    Each time they are asked they put hope in the abuse ending.

    Each time they tell they are once again disappointed.

     Imagine, the adults who knew and the vast intersections in the community? 

    Wife, mother, neighborhood parents, minister and socical services and then finally the law.

    And then imagine when the law sets him free what we are left with?

    What I know for sure it wasn’t for the lack of evidence or the lack of victims speaking out or the lack of remembering or recalling correctly…the one main source of his freedom is the reactions from all the adults who were informed of his behaviors.

    And I believe each adult had their own personal reasons, their own personal stories of pride and friendship…of fear of what this will do in their own lives by facing this morsel of truth full on.

    It had very little to do with Ray Huhta.

    For anyone with nothing to lose would read these reports and be incensed and filled with the off color of Ray and the repeated and long suffering of abuse of the girls.

    You would have to be legally blind and totally incompetent to not get it. 

    No one reading this could possibly believe that he wasn’t a serial abuser, a pedophile with long standing reputation, for the birth dates of the oldest victim is in the 1950’s to the youngest…in the late 1990’s.

    What sits with me the most is again that it isn’t that we need to have more victims come forth, we need to have more victim rights, holding more adults accountable for dropping the ball.

    Why is Doug Edwards not reprimanded for this?

    Why wasn't the Social Service Man, Marv Heinonen not taken to task for knowing for over 30 years and doing nothing?

    Why wasn’t the Minister, Pete Torola not held accountable for knowing that children were being abuse and he did nothing?  (yes I get it, he is dead. But he was quite alive back in my childhood when my friends told him…)

    Why are we allowing adults behaving badly?  What is so odd is not only is my father way out of line on treatment to children, but then are the rest who knew and did a feeble at best attempt to shut him down.

    Imagine, HE is a FREE Man.  He had lots of help in order to remain free up against so much evidence.  He had lots and lots of help!

    Honest!  Read these stories and you would shudder to think he is free, living in Texas, has access to his newest little great -granddaughter and has full approval by his daughter and his grandson to have a ‘relationship’ with her.

     Again, adults behaving badly!

    Not JUST him, all who are still blindly and without comprehension of the danger they are willingly allowing his latest victim, his 2000 model from walking down my same road.  Sure, it may not be rape today or even masturbation, perhaps she will get off lightly with just forcible contact of her private parts while her father and grandmother visit with him, like there is nothing wrong. 

    Who is behaving badly?

  • Beyond what the mind can hold

    I am re-posting an older post…I found it while looking at various posts.

     

    Glancing through the book “Truth vs Falsehood” by David Hawkins, I read this headline, “Cultism”…so here it is.

    “Cults ensnare the unwary by their specialness and false promises.  Members have ‘insider’ status and a special ‘lingo’.  The group leader is charismatic, seductive, and courts the intimate, who is flattered by the attention. The leader is very ‘special’ and treated with adulation, which is quickly turned into control of members, including especially their money and sex lives, as well as lifestyles, diets, clothing, etc.  Members must take allegiance and break off relationships with family or even spouses and often associations or groups.”

    “The group often forms a geographic, restrictive enclave and develops a group paranoia as well as a characteristic “cult glaze” (cal. 120) as though in a hypnotic state (the effect of isolation and brainwashing).  Once detected, that glaze is easily recognized (the “programmed cult look,” as one observer described it.  There is a flatness and automation style to rationalization where content is like a “party line” that is parroted from having been programmed. Cults especially target celebrities and exploit them as showpieces.”

    “The influence of the cult leaders is so strong that large groups of people will willingly kill not only others but also themselves (e.g. Heavens Gate, Jim Jones, Islamic terrorists, suicide bombers, Aum Shinrikyo subway gassers, Bolsheviks, Nazi party, al-Qaeda, the Taliban, White Supremacists, Ku Klux Klan, liberationists etc.”

    “Another characteristic of cultism is proselytizing and insistence of following the party line of a pseudo-religious group belief system by which individuality is scorned or even threatened.  Leaders are very power-oriented, and control plus paranoid egoism are dominant themes.”

    “Sometimes a spiritual leader will calibrate as integrous early in their career but then will fall victim to the seduction of prestige, money, sex, or the adulation of followers.  Then the original spiritual group degenerates into a cult, or a spiritual technique becomes actually trademarked and then commercialized and marketed by hired publicists. In that case, the technique calibrates above 200 but the organization itself falls below 200 and becomes primarily a marketing organization that trades on the original concept or exclusive technique. The technique is thus only taught for a price and ‘trainees’ are forbidden to reveal the secret teachings (which are usually merely a few simple phrases or sentences with a general application to ‘improve health’, “attract abundance”, “increase love life,” “be more popular”, fulfill your potential success”, “attract a mate”, etc) Some of the promoted techniques can be found in any fortune cookie, e.g. “One smile can change your life forever” (cal. 350), or “Success goes to one who is kind.” (cal. 360) 

    “The true value of such workshops is not the magic of the central concept or technique, but the disciplined practice of actually applying it with regularity in the daily life instead of merely quickly dismissing it as “I already know that.” The value of training workshops then lies in the learning of the value of steady application and actually putting a valuable tool into practice and steady focus, e.g., the “faithfulness” of A Course in Miracles workbook.”

    “Another expression of cultism is the cultification of splinter groups from traditional religions, e.g., the far-right “fundamentalism” most prominent and visible in Islam, Christianity and ethnic variations of worldwide religions.”

                         David Hawkins

     

    While I know when you are in the midst of a cult, you can’t see the forest for the trees, but when you step out and find your own freedom to be an individual to feel the open space where the programmed mind used to be, it is mind blowing.

    Most feel and think that a cult is this small hidden special group, but if you look around within many religions, you will see what they are doing to the individual, they are controlling it.

    Any organization that tells you what to wear and what not to wear, what is acceptable and what is not, what you can and cannot do with your own body is a cult.  Albeit a milder level for perhaps your religion hasn’t asked you to kill, yet.

    In my childhood religion, there was a phrase that could erase all sins and we literally believed in its power.  “Your sins are forgiven in Jesus name and blood…”  By believing in this phrase, ‘there was no sin to great to forgive’.  All transgressions against others were deleted. 

    With this phrase, many criminal behaviors are washed away without ever needing the police, the law or the court of the land.

    It is insanity at its best and what happens to the victims of these crimes?  Who is there to protect them, when it is known and approved to have pedophiles preying upon the children, and the only consequences are they have to ‘confess’ and be ‘forgiven’?

    Where are all these sins?  Do they really believe that Jesus is carrying the weight of all the tortured children?  Is he indeed that forgiving, to allow the children to suffer while the adults get a new cloak that is whiter than snow?  Come on people wake up the sins are living in your midst, they are the abused, the confused and the broken. 

    There are no magic words that will take away the physical act of abuse on a child’s body nor erase the terror and the shattered trust and innocence….

    The most evil words that I can now hear are “Your sins are all forgiven…”  For what it means to me, is that the monster has been blessed to abuse again.

    When will the people in the cult wake up and see the bleeding children?  When will they understand that the words spoken are destroying the spirits/souls of the children among them?

    As they sit in the pews singing “Bless be the tie that binds us…” I want them to know, they are the chorus in a ring of child abuse!

    I wanted to believe that my family was an oddity that we were not the popular way within the church, yet I fear that I was the tip of the iceberg and what lies beneath is beyond what my mind can hold.

     

  • Dispute the Group

    I have been trying to find a clear picture in order to illustrate the mindset of group mentality and how it feels when you leave and turn independent…

    I was raised in a family of 14, there was no room for individual requests, needs or special treatment, you got what the rest got and that was that, one size fits all.

    I was also raised in a church that also didn’t cater to individual needs, but rather had a way in which we had to adhere to or conform with, it was best to blend in, to look alike and act alike.

    And within these groups were other smaller groups, but rarely was there individuality or separateness or God forbid special uniqueness, we all marched forward as one.

    The sins grouped together like the congregations…all were equal because they belonged to a group.

    Grouping is the way of Groups.  There is comfort in bunches of things.

    Raised to lump things together leads to never looking closely at what is inside the group, but instead you have intent stares at what sticks out.

    The poking stuff, the non conforming things, the things that don’t match or fit together, the odd pieces that don’t belong…these things are pushed away and are made to feel unwelcome, not part of and may even be seen as threatening to the group…and in defense for the sovereignty of the group will be shunned.

    I had to look up the word Sovereignty to make sure it fit what I was trying to say. 

    independence: the right to self-government without interference from outside 

    Oh, it fits perfectly.

    The shunning feels personal when you are the one who is doing things against the beat of the group drum, but what I can see now, is that the shunning is to preserve the groups rights of self government…THEY truly do NOT want INTERFERENCE from the outside.

    Any thought or idea that interferes with its history or traditions…is an enemy of the group.

    It will be seen as interference against the group, seen as a traitor or family wrecker.

    They are so busy defending their group; they fail to notice what their group is made up of.

    My family defended FAMILY, against all enemies foreign or domestic, truthful or not, what matters most is that damn family must stick together, always.  Anyone, sister or daughter, son or brother who stands against it must be shunned…for family matters.  The group.  The group no matter what it is made up of matters, the lump sticks together as a bunch…Even my father’s molesting ways would not tear the bunch apart…And I was actually seen as worse than him for daring to suggest that the family they were hanging so tightly to, was filled with abuse, not love.  Incredible as it seems, the worst sin of all is to dispute the group.

     

  • More power than the Source

    Today as I rode around, the thoughts kept coming back to me, that what we mostly argue about is not the truth, BUT how we each see it.

    We all are circling around the outer layers of life and dancing on the edges, not wanting to hurt, disrupt or destroy the lives of folks we know…so we don’t look upon the truth.

    All our discussions as far as I can remember are not really even based upon what is fact or what is fiction, but rather what do we do with it?

    Reality lounges around while the majority of people are more worried about HOW the truth will affect another, but pay no never mind about the truth itself. 

    There never was a dispute in my family that my father abused, but the main contention is how we all dealt with it or how we were bound and determined, it would not ruin their lives….

    The abuse got lost in the wake of the potential disruption of their lives.  The topic wasn’t about the abuse, but rather how they could get back to their normal lives.

    It is like keeping the conversation and party going after a bomb went off inside of your home/family.

    Or in the FALC, ‘believing the bomb never went off’ while sitting in the rubble after the explosion.  Trying not to feel and see all the blown out holes…for if you do, you will not make it to Heaven one day.

    To me Hell is living in a blown out family believing in thoughts it is all forgiven and forgotten and it is normal.

    The thoughts are the focus here, and the faith in believing them are much more important than what literally happens when abuse goes off like a bomb in your home.

    My years of writing have been trying to get them to see…oh they see, but they have more faith in their thoughts surrounding the truth than the truth.

    It is like believing in the smoke while not seeing the fire.

    Or maybe believing that the smoke can change the fire…it has more power than the Source.

     "You can't search for truth within a system of beliefs"  (Unknown, but shared with me by Sarah) 

  • I am Lens Free

    When you write your story on a blog you are offering up the opportunity for others to plunge themselves into your story, to come in and walk awhile in your life.

    It is amazing the types of responses you get from others when you display your life on a blog.

    Some come in and bare some of our pain, add bits of wisdom and cheer us on.  These experienced travelers lend us their strength that helps us continue forward.  These cheerleaders are priceless. 

    And the other half or maybe three fourths are out to make our truth into lies by showing us their side.

    What is a lie to one side seems to be the truth to the other.

    That is why there are two sides.

    And the truth stands alone.  However, depending upon which side you are standing on you will look upon it differently.  Very few will face the truth head on.

    What I didn’t know in the beginning is that the reader is made to explore their own lives and feel if what you say is true for them or not.

    That half of writing is reading.

    The reading part I wasn’t paying attention to, for I was the writer part.  I didn’t know how the reader would feel reading what I wrote and I never paid attention to that and still won’t.

    I am not writing for the reader’s ease or comfort or even their understanding.  I am writing for me.  What I am doing is offering a view of my online journal to all who chose to read.

    It validates my life to put it in writing, for I am in a sea of known strangers who can’t seem to understand me, and if I didn’t have this space to connect to, sometimes I would feel like I am disconnected and floating in space.

    I need this connection to anchor me to me.

    You fail to realize how much your life gets anchored by others, until there is no place to hook into. 

    In the beginning it felt like I was the only one who was seeing reality with my view.  I was looking with eyes unshielded and others had these weird lenses that contorted even simple things into complex issues.

    They looked at reality through the lenses of family and religion, and if it didn’t fit that mold, it was reconfigured.

    I took off the glasses of family and religion, setting them aside, and life took on whole different view.

    For the first time I could see life outside of the frames of religion and family.  I could see independently.

    I no longer had to make reality fit into their rules and traditions; instead life got to flow free.

    It didn't have to work for family or for the religion, it just had to be.

    It was amazing and scary and horrific.  To now see what I hadn’t seen with the lenses on.

    I can tell when people read my story with the lenses on or with the lenses off. 

    I am writing without a lens…and can’t help how others see it.

    I just know that you can change my story to say something else if you are wearing the lenses of family or the lenses of the FALC.

    It matters and it will change how you view me.

    But what doesn’t change is how I view myself, for I am lens free! 

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Dark Space of Unknowing.

    Deepak Chopra writes in The Book of Secrets about the caterpillar changing into a butterfly.

    “Outside my window in winter I can usually spy at least one chrysalis dangling from a branch.  Inside it a caterpillar has turned into a pupa that will emerge in the spring as a butterfly. We are all familiar with this metamorphosis, having witnessed it as children (or by reading Eric Carle’s The Very Hungry Caterpillar).  But what goes on invisibly inside the chrysalis remains deeply mysterious. The caterpillar’s organs and tissues dissolve into an amorphous, soup like state, only to reconstitute in to a structure of a butterfly’s body that bears no resemblance to a caterpillar at all.”

    “Science has no idea why metamorphosis evolved.  It is almost impossible to imagine that insects hit on it by chance – the chemical complexity of turning into a butterfly is incredible; thousands of steps are minutely interconnected.  (It’s as if you dropped off a bicycle at the shop to be repaired, and when you came back the parts had become a Gulfstream Jet.)”

    “But we do have some idea about how this delicate chain of events is linked. Two hormones, one called juvenile hormone, and the other ecdysone, regulate the process, which looks to the naked eye like the caterpillar is dissolving into soup.  These two hormones make sure the cells moving from the larva to the butterfly know where they are going and how they are to change. Some cells are told to die; others digest themselves, while others turn into eyes, antennae, and wings. This implies a fragile (and miraculous) rhythm that must remain in precise balance between creation and destruction. That rhythm, it turns out, depends on day length, which in turn depends on the earth’s rotation around the sun. Therefore, a cosmic rhythm has been intimately connected to the birth of butterflies for millions of years.”  Deepak

     

    It came to me today, that blogging the way I do with total transparency is not going to need the same things as those who blog from the cocoon.

    Writing from a cocoon hides what is going on and this is not something I am familiar with.  So I can’t be the one to say what is best for anonymous bloggers.

    But I can speak from transparency. 

    When I began writing I did so with full disclosure, it wasn’t to hide stuff, it was to shed light and to enlighten me, to find answers to who I was, as well as to leave a path for anyone who wanted to know about me.

    I wrote about the dark corners within me that I didn’t know. 

    I asked questions of the white paper and it seemed answers came if I wrote long enough.

    I never felt I had the right to have a voice and writing opened up a space for me to let it out.

    Once I got the knack of it, it seemed that the only way for me to know me was to write it out. 

    The more I wrote the more I knew and the more I knew the more I wanted to know. And slowly I began to really really know me and what I began to learn about me, I didn’t want to cover up nor did I feel the need. 

    Whether it be my mixed up mind, my flipped around thoughts and beliefs or the multiple things I did incorrectly with my backwards mind, all of it became extremely exhilarating for it all was growing a new me.  I wasn’t ashamed of who I was nor who I was becoming to be.

    It was like I was the caterpillar and I was changing and I would grieve the caterpillar parts that were dying and had to grow comfortable with the new butterfly pieces that came in their place. 

    I left my old caterpillar ways…and had to learn how to maneuver life as a butterfly. 

    What I know for sure, for me, is that I need to see me in my past, see me in my present, see what inside of me needs transformation and what needs to totally die. 

    I couldn't hide and build a butterfly me.  I had to see. 

    I would have liked there to be an etiquette book on how to navigate the rough waters of exiting a dysfunctional family and knowing how it feels and what would happen as you go from the inside of a family to the outskirts.

    How to leave abuse, is how to leave a family…

    It isn’t comfortable and there is no cocoon.  You are in the open and vulnerable for pot shots that many aim at you trying to shut you up and protect the family’s dark legacy. 

    And even more importantly, I wanted proof or evidence of my sanity.  I wanted there to be a blueprint of undoing the affects of being abused.  With so many turning away or not agreeing with me, it was a place for me to have my say.  I didn’t keep parts hidden away; I shared all of me, for there wasn’t a part of me that was too dirty or shameful for me not to see.

    It is my humble belief, if you can’t bear to see your self, you will want to remain hidden from others. But, if you have the courage to really really look at yourself and all the cracks and crevices you will find a very interesting and intriguing life. 

    You will see how you took that path or formed that opinion or learned to believe this or that.  You will discover a life that you will never ever want to cover up again and go back to live in a small dark space of unknowing.