Sunday, November 20, 2011

Healing The Itchy Hand Rash, The Story

Healing The Itchy Hand
Rash, The Story
For background on this post, please begin at the blog post on November 6, 2011 (Healing The Itchy Hand Rash, Intro).

From My Personal Journal on October 23, 2011

The Story

Healing - sadness - pain!  These three words sum up this day.  I wish I did not have to experience any of this but I know I did.  It is hard to give up that thought.  It is difficult to let go.

While the pain of the memories is not easy, I am able to go in and feel it, experience it, without being totally overwhelmed.  I could not say that two weeks ago because it almost took me under.

Imagine being held down and raped as a kid.  However, imagine boiling water or hot coffee being poured on you if you tried to resist.  Imagine your little arms and hands being pinned down so you couldn't move as he repeatedly raped you.  Sounds horrible right?  For me, I don't have to imagine any of this.  It is all too real in my mind, the events I describe.

I can't help but cry as I write this wondering why someone who gave me life treated me in such the way that he did.  Love hurts, if you can call that love?  If it wasn't love, than did they just not love me?  A concept that I struggle with for every breath I take.  There are no answers and if any surface, they fall short.

Even if there is a purpose to all of this and even if others are helped because of my story, the pain does not leave.  I continue to find life and discover who I am, but the sadness has been a life long companion.  Yet, some how I manage to make it through another day.

I can barely type these words into the computer without being totally overcome with emotion.  These words connect to experiences that hurt deeply and leave me feeling gutted inside.  Memories of what I have been through are nothing new to me and I've dealt with so many of them to this point, but dang if they don't come and slap the crap out of me!  I hate them as much as I hate anything and yet, by shining love and truth on them is the only way I know to let them go.  What a cruel process!

Part of my mind wonders if it will ever end.  Will I continue to be haunted by memories that surface for the rest of my life?  I have no answers.  It is a thought that saddens me deeply and stabs me in my heart.

I'm really speechless as I bring this blog post to a close.  It is difficult and while I am glad I am healing, the struggle of the ordeal sometimes zaps me of my strength. Somehow, I have never given up completely although I've come very close.  Somehow my life continues even though it came to a screeching halt one day in the hospital many years ago.  From these events, I draw ounces of strength to give me energy to continue.

I feel sad for the pain I put others through who try to love me and yet I feel as if I can't give back to them.  The endure the pain along with me and I feel like I'm robbing them of so much in their life.  I almost feel too selfish for my life's journey I must walk.

One day I'm sure all of this will make sense and the curtain of confusion will be lifted for me to see.  I know my life has impacted others and that gives me some comfort, yet it doesn't necessarily lighten the pain I feel.

For now, I focus on sending love to myself and to all those who are affected by stories such as this.  Love is the only thing I know that will carry someone through and yet I also understand just how difficult that concept is to grasp.  May we all learn to grasp it as a civilization and as a consciousness.  May we all not only see the harm that is inflicted upon our children and humanity but that through these pains, much growth is experienced.  If there is a reason and purpose to what I've been through, this is the only one that begins to make any sense in my mind.

The picture on today's post is of the healing that has happened in my hand.  It is taken in front of my yellow butterfly painting that I did some time ago.  The reason I included the painting is that each day when I have written in my journal, the yellow butterfly makes a brief appearance.  I rarely see the yellow butterfly at any other time of the day but just when the words are difficult to write, if I look up - the butterfly is there!

Blog Post & Images (c) 10/25/11 Don Shetterly - use by permission only

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