Here and Now

Unbroken I’m held hostage by your eyes… the way you see inside my soul. Your voice soothes my tattered heart, mending it piece by piece. Everytime I see you, I want to run into the warm strength of your arms. I long to hold your hands to my face, kissing each fingertip before it touches my skin. No longer do I feel broken With you, I soar. Angela Minard 2010©

Emergence Emerging from safety hanging by a single fragile thread Transforming from the inside out Longing to spread trembling wings but still there is the doubt Fearing the wind will tear through the delicate new soul then suddenly gaining the strength to let go Angela Minard 2010©

It has taken me over an entire year to get used to this new body, this body with curves and substance. Last year I couldn’t even look into the mirror without wanting to cry. I missed my bones, the absence of flesh, and the hunger to remind me that I was real. It takes some getting used to, but I’m at a point of acceptance, and that feels good, and a long time coming. Even at my sickest and lowest weight, it was never enough, and I felt that I could never be good enough. My therapist and I often talk about how I can feel like too much and never enough, all in the same breath. Such a contradiction! This is the most stable I’ve felt in years. My weight is stable and healthy. I might not always feel happy and comfortable in my own skin, but there are many days that I do, and that is one hell of an improvement. Do I still restrict, and have trouble with food? Yes, most definitely, I do. I still have old rules in my head, and strange food rituals and habits. Those die hard, as they are so de...

Freedom Speaks I would literally squeeze my eyes closed as tightly as I could and count to ten when the memories would threaten to creep in. Sometimes the flashing images in the darkness would buzz so loudly in my ears, and I would have to get away, seperating from myself once again. It is the child who can will their own escape; drifting dreamless, until the fear finds a secret place to hide. The darkest secrets, living in silence, will suffocate your soul. Freedom speaks. Angela Minard 2010©

In the years following being sexually abused, many times I experienced flashbacks, panic attacks, and dissociation. I now have many tools that I use to get myself grounded back in reality when this happens. I thought that I would share some of those with you:) Flashbacks are memories of past traumas. They may take the form of pictures, sounds, smells, body sensations, feelings or the lack of them (numbness). Many times there is no actual visual or auditory memory. One may have the sense of panic, being trapped, feeling powerless with no memory stimulating it. These experiences can also happen in dreams. Grounding Techniques Tell yourself that you are having a flashback Remind yourself that the worst is over. The feelings and sensations you are experiencing are memories of the past. The actual event took place long ago, and you survived. Breathe. When we get scared we stop normal breathing. As a result, our body begins to panic from the lack of oxygen. Lack of oxygen in itself causes a ...

Painting The Poet I try to hide in your branches of gold You paint my words my soul in primary colors so bright unable to be concealed in shadow or light Naked I stand illuminated Your brush strokes bold and sure Angela Minard 2010©

The Missing Piece I've felt you in whispers I've held you in dreams, and what if you were the missing piece to the puzzle of my life? The final piece to a search that would start with our first kiss. Angela Minard 2010©

I had therapy yesterday, and today I see my nutritionist. Food has been hit or miss, and I'm mainly sticking with the foods that I feel safe eating. I haven't been eating dinner with the family as much as I should be. I come home and make a smoothie, and call that dinner. Weekends seem to be better, but during the week, I have a difficult time, and I'm not really sure why that is. Maybe it is because it is so much busier during the week, and I don't make as much time to eat. I did eat lunch at work this week though, so I definitely have my good moments. I'm great at making excuses, but the fact is that I'm terrified. I hate the feeling of food in my stomach. It almost makes me want to cry, and I wish that I could get past it. I feel like I've failed everytime that I eat, as if denying myself food somehow makes me a stronger, better person. In therapy we talked about being afraid to look like a woman, or to be viewed in a sexual way. I think that is how the e...

A Restless Heart My heart is forever racing ahead of the beat pulsing within the cage of my soul Restless and waiting Hidden eyes watch the movement of your hands as you talk Longing to touch them Your voice inside of my head listens for the meaning behind your words finding myself lost within the silence of all that is unspoken "Yes, this is fun," I say, when you ask unsure of my feelings once again unsure of you and your feelings Your playful smile touches upon the happiness that lies dormant "Yes, this is fun." Angela Minard 2010©

Just Once Meet me somewhere beneath the blue sky sun in your eyes Meet me with a smile pretending that you are mine for awhile Meet me with a kiss take my breath and make it your own Meet me with a sigh a whisper in the night hold me in the moonlight Meet me just once then say goodbye... Angela Minard 2010©

Far Away The empty ache of missing someone ...of missing the parts of them that you will never know. ...of knowing that soon you will again be strangers, worlds no longer colliding. Was there a point to the impact? Did I make a difference to you? The waning of the moon, the changing of the tides. It is all about timing. Our paths crossing at the wrong time or maybe it was the right time. There is a meaning, obscure for now. I do know that already, I'm missing you. Angela Minard 2010©

These are the lyrics to a song by Brooke Fraser, called the C. S. Lewis Song. The words really speak to me, so I thought I would share. If you want to listen, then look her up on YouTube. It is a really pretty song. C. S. Lewis Song If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy, I can only conclude that I was not made for here. If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary, then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared. Speak to me in the light of the dawn Mercy comes with the morning I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me Am I lost or just less found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way? Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive? Because my comfort would prefer for me to be numb And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become For we, we are not long here Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it And I, I was made t...

Wants~ To listen and be heard To see and be seen To feel and be felt To make a difference To matter To live in the now To feel joy To grieve To trust To have faith To have self worth To nurture and be nurtured To move on To nourish myself body and soul To hold on To be held Oh, the list is endless, but never the less, I'm working on believing that I deserve those things. I swallow my feelings instead of swallowing food, but I'm stuffed full of emotions that long to spill out, and I'm afraid that they will be too much for me or anyone else to handle. For so long, what I've really been working on is disappearing. On Monday evening, I turned pillows into punching bags, and it felt so good, although I cannot pinpoint what triggered my anger. I suppose I have reasons for my pent up rage, but it surprised even me. I rarely show anger to anyone, instead I become mute. No one was around, so it felt safe to release it. Healing is exhausting, but slowly the weight is lifting. I h...

She Waits Waiting... for your strong arms wrapped around me Your breath warm on the back of my neck Waiting... for your mouth A gentle kiss teasing lips pressed against mine Waiting... for you to walk into the room and smile You make my heart dance Waiting... to hear your voice whisper my name calling softly Waiting... to hold your hand in mine fingers entwined Waiting... to cup your face in my hands so close I can feel your pulse Don't forget me I'm waiting... Angela Minard 2010©

“Sometimes people leave you, half way through the woods. Others may deceive you, you decide what’s right, you decide what’s good. You decide alone, but no one is alone.”~ Into The Woods From the moment I woke up this morning, the tears have been just below the surface, stinging my eyes. I dreamt of dolls, clutching them in my sleep, afraid to let them go. I want someone to hold me, afraid to let me go. I want them to please keep the nightmares away. I feel alone, but I have built this fortress around my heart, keeping the gate safely closed and locked. The door is slowly creaking open, my emotions seeping through the crack. I fear that because I was ready to take a risk, you have changed your mind about me. You now see me differently.

Did you know that 1 in 3 girls and 1 in 6 boys will experience an unwanted sexual act before the age of 18? April is Sexual Assault and Awareness Prevention Month. Every 2 minutes, someone in the U.S. is sexually assaulted. Visit http://www.rainn.org/ for more information, to get help, or to donate.

My Nonni, which is what I called my grandma, used to call me"Angel." I loved that...believing that one day I would fly, and ever since, I've loved angels, fairies, unicorns, and butterfly wings. My mom has always said that she was a beautiful soul, too gentle for this world. I looked forward to her laughter, followed by a hacking cough, because she smoked pack after pack of cigarettes. Sadness surrounded her though, the shades drawn, amber pill bottles filled the coffee table next to the worn upholstered chair that she sat in for most of her day. She loved to watch General Hospital, and I would sit and watch with her. We would talk about the characters, and how horrible Erica Cane was. She bought me frilly Easter dresses, and made me feel like a beautiful and treasured doll. At her funeral, I carried my first born son on my hip. She would never hold my babies in her soft arms. I miss her. She is the angel that watches over me.

There are lost pieces of me, a void unfilled, only an elusive dream that I continue to reach for. I want more than it is possible to have, grasping for what is missing in my life. Unsure of my own needs. I take greedily, an insatiable hunger. Always dissatisfied with what is right in front of me. Emptiness leads me down a lonely path, luring me into the darkness. Lost in the poison of my secret memories, kept hidden. I grieve for the child left behind to fend for herself. She is the hate that lives inside of me, the shame that I hold on to, the ugliness that I feel on the outside, when I look into the mirror of my own eyes.

Therapy was hard today, in a way that I cannot even explain here, but we talked about secrets and shame. I tend to carry those two things around with me wherever I go. It is exhausting, and yet I can't seem to let them go. I have told my therapist so many things that I could never say out loud before, and out loud is a hard thing for me. Using my voice is a hard thing. Anyway, I wrote a poem a long time ago to my therapist, when I was still afraid to trust her with my secrets, and that is something that I'm still working on. Here it is... Secrets I'm afraid all of the time. I wonder what you hide. No one is who they say they are. Who are you? Who am I? Who can I trust with all that I am? For so long you have seen what I want you to see, or so I thought. I don't want to be alone anymore. To be me. Alive. So I give all of my secrets away. To hold like a wish in your hands. A deep breath... And then gone... Angela Minard 2007©

"This heavy heart is lightened and I sing." I'm struggling to eat this week because I don't have much of an appetite. I don't always pay attention to my hunger cues, because for so long, I have ignored them. Empty is what feels normal and comfortable for me. It is also hard for me at work. I still find it difficult to eat in front of other people, so I just need to challenge myself more. I forgot my Boost and V8 Fusion drinks today, so I didn't have anything for breakfast or lunch. I'm sick of them though, so I'm going to make myself a sandwhich and take it to work for lunch tomorrow. Sitting down to eat it will be the challenge. I will let you know how it goes. My nutritionist has been pushing me to pack a lunch for work for a long time, so I will be excited to tell her that I finally did it. Tomorrow is a therapy day. I'm supposed to try to take in my journal entry, but I honestly don't think that I will be able to yet. Every time I think a...

This is probably the happiest poem that I've ever written, and since I'm feeling so happy, I thought I would share it:-) With Abandon I want to drift through lavender fields. The petals so soft like the fingers of children, laying hands on my face. Bringing their kisses. The sun bursting lips. The warm blush of roses. I want to twirl and spin in the rain The pelting of tears, the pin pricks of pain. Barefoot laughter. Dancing in time, to the dripping rhythm and rhyme. I want to sing. Pounding keys, plucking strings. A melody rising, resounding within. Staccato, fortissimo. The march of my heart. Beating wild. Abandoned. Alive. Angela Minard 2010©

Life feels so amazing and beautiful today, as if everything is filled with a golden light. The colors I see seem brighter, my heart flutters like a butterly’s wings, and the world spins around in a whirl of dizzying emotions. I’m a child turning in circles, and then falling down to the ground, the clouds flying above me. Good Things Of The Day~ I went to my youngest son, Roman’s basketball game, and his team won. He played awesome, and I’m proud of him. Watching him out there makes me nervous though. I sit on the edge of my seat, with my hands sweating :-) I have laughed so much with my boys. (I have four) They bring me so much joy.(most of the time) I talked with my mom on the phone this morning. It was nice to talk to her, and update her on all of the boys antics and activities. I also talk to her about my worries and concerns. It feels good to have someone besides my husband who listens and cares. I love you, Mom! I don’t hate my body today. I actually feel comfortable in my own ski...

Today I told a friend that knows about my eating disorder and the sexual abuse that all that I wanted to be was "normal." Of course he then asked what that meant, and all that I could think of were the things that I did not want to be. I said with self deprecating humor the other day that I apologize for my mere existence , but the truth is that I too often apologize for being who I am. I say I'm sorry at least a few times a day, and sometimes for things that I didn't even do, or were beyond my control. "It was my fault," is the reoccurring theme in my life. I relive the pain of the past, unable to see who and where I am now. I fear the future because I'm afraid that I'm going to fail at who I want to be. I want to be a whole, unbroken woman, who loves, laughs, cries, feels, and actually lives in the present. I want so much, and I'm afraid that it is too much...that I'm too much. My feelings inside are a jumble of mixed and confusing emotion...

I work with children with autism, so I wanted to bring it to everyone's attention, that April is Autism Awareness Month. For more information on how to get involved, go to http://www.autism-society.org/ . I also wrote a poem awhile back about some of the children that I work with, and have worked with in the past. Many people with autism are non-verbal, or have very limited communication skills. I wrote this for them~ The Interpreter In my dreams sometimes they speak as if they did it everyday Voices so smooth and effortless that I forget to listen to the words Eyes that seem to stare into a vast and hollow void Spinning objects in revolutions of endless delight Fingers that flicker and eyes that look away My heart tries to hear what they cannot say and in my dreams sometimes they speak Angela Minard 2010©