Here and Now

A Recollection Looking through the window at the empty parking lot below I watch your car turn the corner until the glowing tail lights disappear I can hear the baby crying as the apartment walls close in around me There is no escape I'm afraid to carry him down the concrete stairs his head cradled in the crook of my arm In my mind I can see him slowly slip from my grasp shattering into a mosaic pattern disappearing into the wind The days run into each other one indistinguishable from the next I talk to him constantly fearful that if I cannot hear my voice I will one day forget how to speak The weight of silence when he is asleep surrounds me and in those moments I don't breathe I listen for the steady ticking of the clock reminding me of the passing time and the ghost of who I used to be Angela Minard 2012©

For so many years the silence suffocated me. The years of asthma attacks, and my body speaking for me. The anorexia...my body screaming to be heard, and yet my voice was silent. I wanted to make sense of the rape, to understand the sensations, the feelings...the pain, and what also felt good. The body feels, and the loss of control is confusing. There is so much shame in those feelings. I was often home alone in my early teenage years. I wanted to make sense of those feelings. My therapist says that I wanted power, and I still don't know about that. I would invite boys up into my mothers bed, to do with my body what they wanted. Was there power in that? I suppose...These are things that I've never spoke of before, except in therapy. My trauma therapist says that what happened...what I did was normal, and to be expected...so common in victims of abuse, and yet, so much shame...so much. Why my mother's bed, and not my own. Screaming to be heard...Please, hear me. I confess, ...

I went to see my trauma therapist yesterday, and now it feels like I can breathe again. As much as I can talk to my other therapist, she doesn't understand the dissociation, although she has learned a lot since seeing me. When I talk about the rape I can see the pain in her eyes, and it is hard for me to see pain in others. My trauma therapist is more matter of fact, and he helps me to understand that what I'm going through is normal for people with a trauma history. I always wonder if it is also normal that all of this hit me so late in life. He told me a story about a 17 yr. old girl who had been referred to him after being raped. He had to explain to her parents after seeing her, that she was not ready to deal with what had happened to her. It is self preservation. When I was raped, I didn't even understand the word rape, so how could I explain it to someone else. I knew I had been hurt, but the perpetrators said things to make me believe I had asked for it. It is a rel...

I've had an amazing spring break thanks to this beautiful warm weather we have been blessed to have. I haven't really been all that productive, but I've spent time with friends, enjoyed extra time with my family, and I've done lots of yoga. The break from work was much needed, and I feel like I can finish this school year with a positive attitude, knowing that all I can ever do is my best. Not everyone is going to like me or think that I'm good at what I do, but if I can believe in myself, that will take me far and move me forward. I'm feeling much more grounded than I did at the end of last week. I was really down on myself, but with some good support from my family, therapist, and friends, I'm able to take some deep breaths, and let the weight of my worries go. My goal is to remember not to let other people define who I am and how I feel about myself. I'm going to concentrate on building up my self esteem, because it is at ground zero. I'm startin...

My Saviour Your silence weighs heavy I've done something wrong I quietly contemplate your words Living my whole life in silences I understand the oceans we create I have always been the enemy My own... The tearing open of my heart and each and every memory coming to the surface is met with shame I would tell you but you would never see me in the way that I need In your eyes I can believe in who I am who I've made you believe Who would you be to judge? Who is anyone, really? We all hide behind our masks Strangers with empty words and promises It is the strangeness that I see in myself I can hold you at a distance drowning, losing the will to fly My dreams of flying without chains what binds me are the shackles that I've tied to myself My choice to stay is always mine It is my saviour in the world I fear The shadows standing in the doorway haunting the safety I try to feel in your arms I ask for permission to be here, for your love The ambivalence of existing in t...

I walked into the kitchen, seeing the plate of grilled hamburgers on the counter as I walked into the room. I was hungry, and hadn't eaten much all day, which was no excuse for ripping off a piece of the meat and stuffing it into my mouth. My husband walked into the kitchen at the same time, so I flung the meat back onto the plate, hoping that he hadn't seen that I was eating. As I read this back to myself I see the words "no excuse," as if I need to have a reason for eating. I know that realistically, I don't, and yet, that is always how I feel. I feel such shame for needing to eat. I'm doing better. I eat in restaurants, I order food for myself, I eat in front of people, but there are also so many times when I feel ashamed by the act of eating. I'm still trying to figure out where this shame comes from. If I could figure it out, I think I would be so much closer to healing. As always, I can tell myself that it is okay, and that I deserve food, but belie...

I Will Remember I remember you telling me you felt bad about leaving me There was a light rain but still, you left again and again We didn't have time never a proper goodbye and it was then that I realized everyone leaves eventually In one way or another... and now when I think of you I close my eyes tightly trying to erase the thoughts the hopes of something more We will change everything changes wondering about you where you are and I will remember the rain Angela Minard 2012©

Circus Dreams The body holds the lungs the cage of our hearts We breathe in the smell of spring rains  summer sun You touch my hair a gesture that fills my soul welling within me stinging my eyes with unshed tears hands pushing deep into the sockets The words you murmur into my ear ache and whisper inside of my mind the blood throbbing, pulsing You speak too loudly although I can't seem to hear Your voice far away  the world is silent around me I lift my eyes to the sky the spinning of the earth reminds me falling to the ground like a child I can smile as if riding on a carousel The clown faces loom above balloons float away brightly colored pinpoints disappearing as you clasp my hands pulling me from the ground my feet planted firmly choosing to stay Angela Minard 2012©

I cannot seem to control the shivering of my body, although the sun rests upon my shoulders, the panic rising in my throat, squeezing the breath from my lungs. These symptoms are the beginnings of a panic attack that I have been trying to control since I woke up. I went to yoga, welcoming the stillness of my mind as I concentrated on the movements of my body, but now my thoughts are racing ahead of themselves. I want to claw at my skin...to feel the pain that I think I deserve. My therapist told me this week to work on not letting anyone else define how I feel about myself, but that is so difficult for me to do. I care too much what other people think of me. I have had a rough week at work, and thoughts of wanting to give up plague me. I'm not good enough, and although I know that I cannot please everyone, I try so hard. I'm not perfect, but I feel like other people expect it of me. Maybe it is really that I expect it of myself. I want to be able to escape from my mind, and ye...

The Funeral I had a dream about Judy You've never met her before and it has been so long I don't remember her being so pale I could see the pulsing blue vein running from her hairline down to her brow and her frailness struck me as odd A giggle almost escaped from deep within my throat which I swallowed quickly She would sit at the piano, and I recall her hands, the fingers long, her vibrato full and strong She had always been plump, and I don't believe my memory failed me I wanted to play that piano I begged for lessons, but it was for the best I took dance instead I've never known my left hand from my right anyway and although I have a good ear I could never learn to read the notes Sometimes I would spend the night You were not allowed into her kitchen between meals To me it was a strange rule and the thought of not being able to eat made me all the hungrier My mother would cut her hair at our house while we all splashed in the backyard pool It is always summertime...

I'm feeling better after a rough day of dissociation this weekend, and a trigger that brought on a memory. It is a memory that I have often written about here, but I decided to post it on the Cycle Of Healing blog instead. Who knew that shopping for mattresses would be a trigger, but something was said about stains on a mattress, and I figured out that was the trigger. Sometimes I can't figure it out, which frustrates me. I called my therapist at some point, but don't remember calling her. The loss of memory, but being able to function is such a strange feeling, and one that brings on shame. I slept it off, but was exhausted on Monday. Today was okay besides being distracted by some racing thoughts. I'm getting ready for my yoga class, which I think will help me to be more connected and grounded to myself. I belong to a dissociation group on Facebook, and that combates the lonliness that I feel. I want other people suffering from this disorder not to feel so alone, wh...

I had an appointment with my nutritionist after a month of not seeing her. Not much has changed in my eating. For the most part, the restriction is unfortunately a part of my routine. I told my nutritionist that it wasn't dangerous restriction, which as you guessed, she jumped all over. I only meant that it isn't as bad as it used to be. I had some very "normal" eating on Friday and Saturday, with movie treats and everything! I tend to think of a day with 3 meals and snacks as a huge binge, or at least for me, it feels that way. This morning hasn't been filled with positive self talk. The fear when increasing my food intake is that I will lose control, overeating on a daily basis, and that I will never be satisfied. The amount of restricting I'm doing has nothing to do with wanting to lose weight. For one thing, it isn't affecting my weight, which has been stable for some time. It is more about controlling my feelings, and keeping the fear at bay, or at l...