Christmas Gift Giving Anxiety

Written By Don Shetterly

One of the things that makes this time of year so difficult is Christmas gift-giving anxiety.  I had many horrible experiences while growing up, and it makes it a struggle.

Yes, I know everyone will tell you that you give gifts at Christmas out of love.  While there is so much truth to that, there's a part that is not spoken.  Try not giving a gift to your family and see how the reaction is.   That will show you the other unspoken part.

In all honesty, though, we spend a lot of money at Christmas because we have to buy the perfect gift for our loved ones.  I think we've truly lost our way in what really matters, but trying to get the world to see that is like plugging a leaking dam with your finger.

One Christmas while I was in college, I was struggling to make it financially.  I didn't have money from parents.  I had no financial aid.  Everything I needed to pay for college was either student loans or from a full-time job I was working.  I was making it each month, but with nothing extra left over.  If Starbucks had been around then, that would have been a luxury.

This particular year, I had been saving my pennies, nickels, and dimes up.  I was collecting soda cans and turning them in for the 5 cent deposit we had in Iowa.  By Christmas, I think I had saved around $50 which was not a lot, but it's all I had.  I had presents to buy for my Dad, Mom, older brother, younger brother, and my older brother's wife.  Splitting $50 up between that many people doesn't go far, but I did the best I could.

I looked for items that they could use, and that would allow me to spend within the budget I had.  Using the comics sections of the Sunday newspaper, I wrapped the gifts with care.  Wrapping paper was too expensive for me to buy at that point.  I was proud of what I had done because the $50 I spent on gifts could have purchased a month's worth of groceries for me in those days.  Instead I was giving some of my Christmas joy away to my family.

When my family opened the gifts I had gotten for them on Christmas Day, the response I got was not what I expected.  They looked at me and said, "this is all you got us?"  I was crushed.  I was hurt.  They should have just shot me with a gun because it would not have hurt anymore at that moment.  I so badly wanted to take all the gifts back and go give them to the homeless.

Another experience was after I had just gotten out of the hospital from going through Conversion Disorder and being paralyzed.  My parents and I were not on great speaking terms because they were afraid I was going to spill the family secrets.  So, I could have cared less that year if I bought presents or not.  I finally sent them a check for $25 and a lovely card and letter.  The response I got back was "if this is all you're going to do for Christmas, then please don't send us anything more!"  You talk about being crushed.  This was so hurtful, and I honored their request.  I never sent them another thing.

So while everyone wants to think this is an excellent time of year, Christmas gift-giving anxiety is a real thing.  We might not be conscious enough to admit it, and often we feel powerless in our families.  There can be some real hurt inflicted on this day.

If someone gives me something, I don't care if it is a rock, I will cherish it.  Never will you hear me disparage a gift as if it is not enough.  Christmas gift-giving anxiety causes people to spend mega fortunes and go deep into debt at Christmas.

We never got a lot of gifts at Christmas, but the ones we got were special.  My mom would find a way to make the season special even if she could not spend much.

These days, I'll surprise people at the last minute the day before Christmas with homemade cookies or little things.  I'm not looking for them to give me a gift.  I just enjoy giving something.  I still struggle with Christmas gift-giving anxiety, but I try to do things on my own terms.

Call me a Scrooge if you want because I don't celebrate like most people do, but then why would I want more hurt inflicted upon me.  If someone doesn't appreciate what you get them, then no sense to do it for them.

I'm guessing that I am not the only one with Christmas gift-giving anxiety.  If you deal with this, please leave your story in a comment below.  I'd love to hear your experiences.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 11/30/17 by Don Shetterly

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Dismissed By A Child Molester

Written By Don Shetterly

Years ago when I was going through some of the roughest healings, I decided to call my dad late one night.  I planned on confronting him about what he did to me.  It took a great deal of courage for me to get to this point.  Having friends close by helped so much.

It isn't easy for me to talk about this to this very day.  I get scared that if I speak out, bad things are going to happen to me.  After all, I was threatened that if I didn't shut up, that they would come after me.  My older brother left that clear message for me at my job.  So this is not a made up fear.  It is real.

At the time anger fueled my reasoning for calling my father.  I was dealing with very rough moments in life as a result of what I had experienced.  It took the anger to confront him because I was so frightened then.

Actually, I'm frightened now with speaking out publicly more, but I know I must.  There are far too many that endure molestation and child abuse.  I am honestly at a point where if they want to come after me, I'll expose every last bit of what they did to me in a public way that will make them regret their threats and actions against me.  I'm tired of hiding it because of what they might do to me.

When I called him up that night, my mom picked up the phone.  Yes, it was late in the middle of the night, but I wanted him on the phone, not her.  So I hung up and called back.  I have my issues with what my mom knew or didn't know, but I wanted him to be the one hearing what I said.

When I got him on the phone, I laid into him.  I didn't let up, and I didn't let him talk.  There was no way I was holding back, and so my anger and pain came out in full force.  I only got about a minute, or so I think of saying what I wanted to say before he hung up on me.

Just before he hung up on me, he said, "GROW UP Donald!"  That was the name he used when he was angry at me.  My final words to him were "GO TO HELL!"

I have never spoken to him since, and I have no intention of doing so.  He made his bed, and now he gets to lie in it.  I have no desire to communicate with him because there is no apology from him.  He doesn't think he did anything wrong.  Molestation was normal to him it seems.  I know it is up to me to continue moving forward and letting go of what he did.

In the news are stories of someone being molested by a prominent figure and they are getting the same treatment.  They are being dismissed by a child molester (or should I say, alleged child molester).  It triggers me back to the memories of what I went through.

Will my Dad and brother ever admit to molesting me?  I doubt it.  They've already convinced family friends that I was brainwashed by Psychiatrists and that I'm crazy.  I was the one that was wrong in their eyes for daring to speak up and expose the secrets.

You see, child molesters stop at nothing to convince the world that they are great humans.  They have no problem with blaming the victim.  They don't care that the child was helpless when they abused and molested them.  It is all about convincing the world that they didn't do anything wrong.

In my case, I'm sure if anyone confronted them, they would also say that "God has forgiven them."  Unfortunately, to me, that does not mean that you act as if nothing ever happened.  That is being a coward in my view.  Either you own up to what you did or don't tell me you've been forgiven.

Just a note here that in my house, forgiveness talk is not as it seems.  It means, forget it and act as if we didn't do anything to you. I heard this line about forgiveness so many times.  It usually was right after they did what they did to me.  I even heard it after my dad would beat my mom.  Thus, forgiveness talk to me is cheap and shallow.

Being dismissed by a child molester is what these people do.  They cannot allow themselves to be exposed to their secrets and lies and abuse.  They blame the victim.

To people that defend what child molesters do, you are not human in my eyes.  You are part of the problem that allows child abuse to continue.  Either you stand up for the rights of all humans, or you need to go find the door to your cave and crawl back inside.

Dismissed by a child molester just seems normal to me.  I almost expect nothing but the blame they put on their victims.  When I see news reports about others, and I hear the perverts attack the victims, my anger boils.  Child molesters don't have any business being on this earth.  When you harm the life of an innocent child, you give up all rights to be human in my view.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 11/30/17 by Don Shetterly

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How I Handled Christmas In 10 Steps

I'm writing this a year in advance.  In fact, Christmas Day 2016, was just yesterday.  Things are beginning to get back to normal.  Email and social media feeds are starting to liven up again.  Trash pickup just went by trying to collect everyone's trash from yesterday.  So, yeah, Christmas is over once again.

However, I thought I would write this because someone asked me if I would do anything different the next year.  I had written earlier that I struggled to deal with the holidays.  I'm one of those where the hurt and pain shows up with the fun and presents.

Growing up, my mom did her best to really go all out celebrating Christmas on a shoestring budget.  Yes, we were envious of our friends who got a lot of presents, but my mom tried to make it special in other ways.  From decorating Christmas cookies, to the food and candy she would make and to just decorating the house, it became a special day.

Unfortunately, in the midst of all of it there was a lot of stuff that hit the fan.  There were many moments that are painful and in fact so painful, that I can't even talk about them yet.  I've done a tremendous amount of healing and forgiveness but the stuff is there in too great of quantities.

So, when Christmas comes - it isn't easy.  The turmoil that hits me emotionally and in my mind feels like 200 MACK trucks hitting me at about 100 mph every second of every day.  It isn't easy.  Lord knows I've tried to find ways to deal with it, but it just is not easy.  If you're like I am, than this isn't news to you.

Here's some of the things I did in 2016 and I'm writing this to my future self so I'll remember what worked and what helped.

1. We were able to take a trip for a few days leading up to Christmas.  In that final week before Christmas, I truly struggle, and so this helped keep my mind off of dwelling on it.
2. I tried to slow down for December.  Even half of my normal speed is almost too much.  A few things to do can quickly and easily overwhelm me.  So, it's best to slow it down a lot!
3. I made sure that anything I wanted to get done to celebrate Christmas was done by the middle of the month.  I knew that the last week or two, I just needed to coast through it.  Any more than that and it was too much.
4. I reached out to my partner and tried to explain things about what I needed.  He was very loving and compassionate and worked with me.
5. I reached out to friends, and they were a support during this time.  In fact, I tried to help be there for them, and I think it helped me in the long run.
6. I recognized that this was a tough time and tried hard not to beat myself up for it.  It is the way it is, and there is no sense in shaming myself into what my "surreal concept" should be for Christmas.
7. I tried to get in extra exercise and activity by walking and worked to not let myself isolate from others or the outdoors.  Fortunately, I live in a warm climate, but just being outside in nature and the sun helped me greatly.
8. I looked for ways to be creative, but not necessarily that I had to complete a project.  Creativity helps me deal with life and stress and the past.  If I embrace it, it helps me.
9. I would look for moments of quietness and stillness to just take care of myself.  I didn't do this to hide or isolate, but to just give myself a chance to breathe.
10. I worked to help connect with my mind and body through awareness and breathing so I could give myself a boost in energy to deal with all the pain I was facing.

For the most part, these things helped.  Yes, I did get depressed.  Yes, I struggled with anxiety.  I already try to stay out of the stores right around the holiday because people are usually rude and inconsiderate.  It takes very little to push me over the edge.

I do avoid any parties because I just don't do well at this time.  On Christmas, I stay away from family functions because it is just too much for me to sort out.  A good video and downtime from the computer are far more welcomed to me than having to negotiate family pain.

These things help.  I just know that it isn't an easy time and I've learned it is okay to be okay with that.  The "beautiful family gatherings" may exist out there, but I know many who struggle with the pain it brings.  If we honor and respect where we are, what we can do and that we have so much going for us, it can make the days go a little easier.

What do you do to help yourself handle Christmas?  Leave a reply and let me know.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 11/30/17 by Don Shetterly

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Staying Ignorant

Written By Don Shetterly

Growing up, our house was not one where we were allowed to challenge the status quo.  What my father said was meant to be the law, and you did not object, argue, or ask for an explanation.  Staying ignorant was the law of our house.

We were abused under these rules, and we were molested and beaten and psychologically abused.  Any attempt to circumvent or change that was met with punishment that was more harsh and severe and quick then one could contemplate.  If you spare the rod, then it means you would spoil the child was the judgment of the court in our house.  Yet, staying ignorant was the norm.

Our minds were brainwashed under these rules.  Even though we were urged to think for ourselves, it was not allowed.  It was not given fertile ground to develop, and if you attempted to do it, you would be met with the "silent treatment."  You were ostracized and put in the dog house for daring to stand up and challenge anything spoken.

Sure, the king in charge of my family would act as if this did not happen. The family king would make a spectacle out of you, telling everyone that knew you, just how wrong you were.  They took facts out of context and prove to others, that you had no idea what you were saying.  No matter what was needed, they would ensure that you were the crazy one who dared stand up and speak out against the king of the house.

Watching pets be killed or being told that if you dared to stand up, the cops would not be able to do anything for you proved that you had no choice.  Learning that God would punish you if you challenged the king or he specially wanted you to just follow the will of the family is just how things were in our house.

Staying ignorant was all we knew.  While we heard others may brainwash us in their ways and beliefs, we were the ones being brainwashed and yet we did not know it.  What seemed abusive and wrong to others, seemed normal to us.  We knew no different.  It is what we had been taught.

When I finally got up the courage to stand on my own and walk away, I was labeled as crazy.  It was the medication, the doctors, and my friends who led me astray.  People that had known me most of my life were told just how far off the deep end I had gone.  Staying ignorant was what they demanded of us.

To this day, I'm on my own.  I don't have contact with the ones that wished to silence me.  I said enough is enough.  Staying ignorant was no longer a choice, but it was so difficult to do.  It took courage and strength to stand through the pain of the separation.  It was not for the faint of heart.

I'm glad I escaped and found my own life, but it took me many years to begin undoing the harm and brainwashing that was done to me.  Staying ignorant is how the family wishes to remain, but no longer will I let anyone brainwash me.

I work each day to become more than I am.  I strive to go in and clean out the dark places of my life and let go of things that no longer serve me.  It is a process to unlearn all that you were taught even if it was toxic and ignorant.  It is not an easy process, and while many give up trying to do it, I'm glad that I am no longer staying ignorant.

My life is much better as I grow in my own awareness and consciousness.  Keeping someone down because of beliefs and control is no way for any human to live.

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Blog Post And Images (c) Nov 21, 2017, by Don Shetterly

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Abused By Being Ignored

(Written By Don Shetterly)

This is a big trigger for me, and right now it is in full force.  It isn't just one trigger, but multiple ones from multiple sources right now.  Being ignored is not something that is easy for me to deal with in life.

At one time, the abusers sought to ignore me if I didn't do what they wanted.  It wasn't just me as they did it to everyone in the house.  Ignoring you meant you were less than and not worthy of love or attention or even one iota of concern.  This was in addition to having to fight for attention from others in the family that did so much stupid stuff, they readily got attention.

I don't deal with this well.  In fact, as I'm writing this I think I should just go completely quiet and never speak to anyone again.  I'll stop tweeting, texting, and blogging.  That's the way I feel at this moment.

For me, my friends and people I know mean the world to me.  You don't get past that wall very easily, and when you do, you're very special to me.  I realize that everyone has their busy lives with jobs, work, family, and other things.  I get that.  I really do.

Some days, I feel like if I went and ranted and raved about the latest political firestorm of the day, others would listen and want to engage.  I just have no desire to swim in that mud pit.  I'm not about to start because I see the political firestorms as being nothing more than people screaming while no one is listening.

I feel hurt when I think I'm being ignored, regardless of the reason or issue or who is doing it.  Most likely others don't mean to ignore me, but it feels that way.  When I feel that, it triggers all kinds of bad thoughts in my mind of not being loved or wanted just like many years ago.

For now, I'm probably going to take time away from answering any emails or trying to initiate any emails.  I'm going to ease up on social media a little more because to be quite honest, I'm not sure if it is really worth it.  Maybe this is the way for me to see this.  I don't know.

I try to be there for many, but some days, I feel like I walk alone.  I'm feeling hurt right now and unwanted and unloved.  Maybe tomorrow when I wake up, it will be a new day.  One can hope, can't they?

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2017 by Don Shetterly

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Growing Up With Hate Disguised As Love

Written By Don Shetterly

As a kid, we went to church, every Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night and any other day there were activities.  Church services and prayer meetings were the norms for our lives.  Days and meals were planned around it.  No one was exempt from going, and you were expected to be there.


In each prayer meeting or church service, the participants (our family included) talked about loving one another.  We talked about how we were somehow different from all the rest of the population.  We talked about how we were holier than all the rest of the people living on the planet.

We tried to be good people and do the right thing most of the time.  We sought to be honest, upstanding, loving, kind and generous when we could We put our offering in the collection plate and sometimes I saw my dad give their entire life's savings while we starved, but we were doing it in the name of all that was holy.

Not Gossip - It Was Prayer Requests...

We didn't mind the gossip that went on in the church because we didn't call it that.  Instead, we referred to it as prayer requests.  We'd offer up prayers in the circle while many would raise eyebrows at hearing the news of various participants.  That was okay though because we were praying about it of course.

We would get back in the car to leave the church service or prayer meeting and boy that is when the discussion of the prayer requests (a.k.a gossip) would start up with intensity.  It was as if there were only a few minutes to discuss it.  I would listen as my parents talked without a pause.

It would bother me, but you didn't dare stand up and say anything for fear of being beat.  You couldn't expose the error in what family was doing because you got it when you got home.  I just had to sit there and listen to it while it made my stomach turn.  Yet, we were a loving family who was special and went to church.  Gossip was something others did.

With the same breaths of love and kindness, we would turn our attention to all those that we disagreed with from our neighbors to other members of the church.  The minister, of course, was not exempt with this, but because it was in the secrecy of our car and home, no harm was done.  After all, we proved that we had love for one another.

Didn't Know Our Actions Were Hate Filled...

If people thought differently than what the ruler in our family proclaimed as the law, we despised them and distanced ourselves from them.  You could say that we hated them, but then no one would have admitted that in this moment or at any time.  For we were Christians.  We were called by God so we could not have hate.  We didn't know that our actions were hate filled.

Never mind the domestic violence and child sexual abuse that was going on in the family.  Never mind that the thought of sparing the rod and spoiling the child was enacted to the extreme.  These were regular parts of our family while we acted as if we loved everyone and hated no one.

I escaped from that life, and it was not easy to leave it behind.  Because of other situations in my life with healing from Conversion Disorder, I had to walk away from my entire family to save my life.  I was cast out as a son that was brainwashed by psychiatrists who didn't know that his family loved him.  I was shoved aside until I came to my senses.  All the loyalty that had been demanded of me throughout my life was now cut off because I no longer lived by the family code I grew up with as a kid.

My Family Still Practices Hate...

To this day, I see those in my family who still practice the hate.  They disguise it as love, but the hate has blinded their hearts.  They no longer can tell a difference.  It is sad observing it from outside the family.  Some days, I can barely believe this is the family I grew up in.

I see things happening in the world and our country which reminds me of those years I have longed to forget.  The one-way loyalty and the hate disguised as love.  The superiority of some as they lift themselves up over the ones they have trampled.  I see a disdain for what is really the truth, hidden by everything under the sun that is not.

If you tried to confront anyone about this, they would laugh and spit in your face.  Yet, the same people puff themselves up as the arbitrators of truth, justice, and love.  Instead, the judgment shown by most people towards others, even the ones that cloak it with some love, is one of the most hurtful things you can do towards another.

I grew up in the church and the family that judged everyone while we smiled, hugged them, and told them, "I Love You!"  We thought we were the best that life had to offer.  We thought we were right and everyone else was wrong.  As I've put distance in my healing from my family, I realized just how wrong we were.  We were not only part of the problem, but we were the problem.

No one wants to look hard into their own life and see the garbage then need to throw out the window.  No one wants to acknowledge their actions and thoughts and words as being not only part of the problem but the problem facing this world.  Everyone is quick to judge everyone but themselves, and I weep at the sadness of this behavior.

Living life in this world is not always easy but the more we hide our heads in the sand, duck behind the knowledge of truth, the more we make it an arduous journey.  We're not as great as we proclaim because a great life is seen through actions, not words.  We can speak the words, but if we do not live the life that we preach, we are nothing more than a clanging gong.

What is in our heart and mind and body is what we display to the world.  We can mask our hate and project it on to everyone else, but until we go in and search our own heart and mind, we will be part of the problem.  Let us open our eyes and become aware of what we truly do, not what we say to convince the world.

I work each day to de-program my mind from the brainwashing I endured as a kid.  I work each day to love others through my heart and actions, not just the words I write or say.  Every day, I strive to release all the toxicity and poison that was pumped into me as I was taught the truths of life.  I am the only one that can change how I live my life now.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2017 by Don Shetterly

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Surviving The Funeral

This is not a topic I write much about because even with the years that have gone by, there's a lot of pain in the walls of my heart when I try to share it.

It is hard to write about because while I miss my mom, I know she was part of the mess of trauma, torture, and child sexual abuse I went through.

No, she was not an active participant and I know she was beaten as well, but she was not able to protect me.  Before she suddenly died in a car accident, I had not gotten to speak to her in many years.  There are so many things left unsaid.

When the funeral happened, it was inside the hospital chapel because my father was still recovering from the car crash.  Somehow he, the monster in the family, was the one that survived.  The one that I wish would have made it, didn't survive.  I have great amounts of anger over that to this day that I struggle with, quite honestly.

They did everything to stop me...

It was more than difficult to get to the funeral.  In fact, the family seemed to do everything they could to keep me from going to it.  No details at all.  We had to dig for what was happening and when.  I had been unemployed and just had started a new job a couple of days before the car accident.  My anxiety about being back with the monsters in my family was overwhelming.

Fortunately some friends met me there and my partner went with me.  I remember pulling up to the hospital, and it was almost too much. I wanted to flee.  I wanted to run.  I took my Xanax to help give me a little calmness for the day but even it was not enough.

I wanted to be left alone...

We waited until the last minute to walk in.  My partner scoped things out.  Then, it was time to go in to the funeral knowing I was walking in among the wolves that hated me for daring to break the silence.  The minister came up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder and back and I jumped.  I wanted none of these fake people to touch me.  I wanted to be left alone.

I went to the casket and saw my mom.  She had aged a little since the last time I saw her, which was about 11 years earlier.  I cried.  My younger brother at least came up and acknowledged me and gave me time alone with her.  I introduced her to Jeff and told her I wish she could have gotten to know him.  It was the last time I would see her.

Sitting through the long drawn out service was not easy.  I sat in front of my friends, next to Jeff.  Of course the minister started in preaching of how we should forgive one another and especially our family.  I know who put him up to that line of preaching and I know it was directed at me.

Forgiveness was screwed up...

You see, in our family, you had to forgive those that harmed you.  That was the way it worked.  You had to act as if it didn't happen.  Forgiveness was such a screwed up nightmare for me for a long time.  It didn't mean they ever had to own up to what they did or how much they hurt you.  It was "you" that had to make things right.  Nothing like treating a victim like a victim!

So as I was sitting there, my anger was growing within me.  The next thing I know I did was to flip the minister off.  I don't know if he saw me.  Maybe he did.  Maybe he didn't.  It just felt so good to tell these kinds of people where to take their holier than thou attitudes and put it.

After it was over, my friends hurriedly rushed me out the door and got me out of there.  They knew how difficult it was for me.  I know that my family was getting together at my Aunt's house, but I wasn't invited.  They were afraid I'd make a scene.  I said, screw you anyway!

I left feeling dejected...

I left there feeling dejected once again.  I left there feeling like I didn't belong in the family once again.  It would be many days and months before I would be able to stop crying.  It would be years before I would even get to the point of writing what I can write here today.

I don't know how I survived the funeral.  I miss my mom.  We had so much in common but I'm glad she doesn't have to put up with the monster anymore.  In the end, the monster was responsible for the car accident taking her life because he pulled out in front of an oncoming vehicle.  I'm not sure I can easily forgive him for that, and I honestly don't care what he or my family thinks of that.

Even this many years later, I'm reminded of losing my mom.  I'm reminded of the horrors the family faced and how it made my life a living hell every day of my existence.  At times, I still cry and mourn for her loss.

I know that not everyone had a good mom.  Some had good fathers instead.  For me, my mom meant the world to me.  I feel so lost and alone without her.  The process of grieving continues.  The process of healing continues.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2017 by Don Shetterly

• Permission required before any part of this blog post is reprinted, reworded or used in any form. 
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Living With A Bully

I was recently reading some tweets by @Hope4Siblings on sibling abuse, and never stopped to give it a thought.  I'm guessing it is widespread or so it seems in my world.  Most of the things that I went through, I have often minimized as if they were just normal and I guess I've done the same here.

While I'm not one to embrace too many labels, I know I went through sibling abuse. My older brother made my life hell for me.  Every chance he got, he'd pound the crap out of me.  He loved to tackle me on the ground.  He was so overweight and he used that weight to hold my arms back and then jump up and down on my upper arms and shoulders with his knees.  It hurt like hell and to this day I struggle with deep pain sometimes in my shoulders.


   I was living with a bully...

Then in the second grade, there were these fourth graders in the Hampton, Iowa elementary school I went to that further made this difficult.  There were four (4) of them but I can't remember their faces or their names.  I'm not sure I knew their names.  They would each take one arm and leg and then start swinging me back and forth and let me go sailing in the air.  When I'd land on the ground, it hurt like all you can imagine it hurt.  No teachers, of course, would see it or listen to me when I told them what was going on.  I hated that school.  I hated the teachers.



   I was living with a bully... 

When we lived in one place as a kid, I was maybe in kindergarten or first grade.  We would ride the bus to school because we lived out in the country.  It is important to note that we were pretty poor and lived in a very cold rural house in Iowa.  Winter times meant being cold.  I barely had mittens or a hat to wear.  I was lucky if my boots had no holes in them.  The kids would try to grab and steal my mittens and hat every time I got on the bus.  They didn't care if I froze.  The bus driver would yell at me when I tried to get them back.  I hated the kids and the bus driver.



   I was living with a bully...


I grew up in a house where my father did unspeakable things to me.  You can learn more about that in my books, but it was not a pretty time.  I was more of a sensitive little boy.  I didn't enjoy hunting and killing things.  My little hands would get cold.  I wasn't as big of a "man" as I was supposed to be and that brought on a lot of hurt and pain for me.



   I was living with a bully... 

I worked in a job where a coworker was nothing but a bully.  He thought making fun of my sexuality and everything else about me was the norm.  People in authority in the company didn't seem to care.  They just turned a blind eye toward it.  In fact, I was told once that "I just needed to learn to work with others as adults."  It was as if what this person did was okay, but I was the one with a problem.  Emotionally, it took its toll on me and I finally quit.



   I was living with a bully...



Whether it is sibling abuse or being sexually abused by someone in your family, it is not easy and it is not fun.  When there are no people to turn to that can help, you feel all alone.  When the bully in the house threatens you and you know they are dead serious, you have no one to tell.

I see far too many bullies in this day and age and all of them trigger me.  I have no use for a bully.  If you can't respect others, then as some might say, "You are dead to me".  Sorry if that sounds harsh, but after a lifetime of bullies, I struggle to feel love toward them.  It is still part of my healing journey.

Living with a bully is difficult.  We need to get serious in this world about stopping the bully that exists in far too many places.  I still deal with the aftermath of what I experienced as I'm sure most people do as well.

If you're a bully - get help!  If you are being bullied - keep seeking help.  You should not have to endure this behavior.  The bully is the one with the problem, not you!   And if no one listens - scream a little louder until they do!  Find someone to help you.  You don't deserve to be bullied by anyone.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2017 by Don Shetterly

• Permission required before any part of this blog post is reprinted, reworded or used in any form. 
• You are welcomed to share the LINK to this blog post.  

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Today, I Know

(Written by Marie Davino)

I have been in some kind of therapy or other since I was 18, due to a difficult and dysfunctional family life as a child. In addition, I was bullied at school and had an eating disorder that became a lifelong struggle.

It has, at times, been a rough and very rocky road to say the least.  I knew that I had experienced some kind of abuse, but the memories of it were incomplete or vague. That made it difficult  for me to know for sure if I actually was molested… and to let it go.

The questions were always, “what if”, “what really happened”, or “who was this person?”  These questions haunted me, and were always in the back of my mind. I tried to recover the memory in different ways with different therapies over the years to no avail. I finally decided I would have to be ok with not ever knowing…until recently.

I worked with my last therapist for ten years, and he was wonderful. I will always be grateful for the work we did together and for the time and effort he gave to help me heal my past wounds. I reached a point where I was very happy, had left it all behind me, and felt my life was quite fulfilling for many years…and then, the bottom dropped out. I felt myself spiraling into a depression that  I could not express or understand. I tried my best to manage it with all of the tools I had learned over the years. Nothing was working.

That was when I found Jim Fazio and Unified Therapy. I began to work with him, and reached a level of trust so quickly that I was able to explore the reasons for the depression I was experiencing in great depth.  It is difficult to describe how the sessions go, but I can say there is very little talking, no advice or judgment, and all mind-body work in a safe, relaxing environment.

The sessions were intense and powerful... after each session was over, when I allowed myself to let go, I felt an overwhelming peace and joy that I had not experienced for a very long time. It was progressing so quickly that after a few months the memory became clearer… until one session when the answer came… I knew it was real, where the existing memory was leading, and that it happened.

The next morning, this poem was written in my mind in a matter of minutes, and I had to write it down.

Today, I Know

(c) 2017 By Marie Davino

Today I see the world through different eyes
Yesterday it was maybe, probably.
Maybe.
Today I know
Yesterday it was how could someone do that to a child
Today it is how could someone do that to my child
Yesterday I wondered why? (I suffocate!)
Why? (I can't breathe!) why? (I can't speak!)
Why? (Did I make this up?)
Today I know
The Angels gentle message
Floating on an ocean full of tears
drowning out my screams
Buried in sand up to my nose, hide my face from horror.
Can't move, can't breathe, why? (No one hears me.)
Today I know.
Paul sings it was far away… but it was here all along
He sings it will stay forever, but now I know
I will fight till I can let it go
These words of a million wounded souls, spoken a million times
Nothing new here...I am just one more broken heart to heal.
Freezing cold. Burning up.
No more shadows. No more darkness. No more silence. Today I weep.
Today I bathe in the soft lightness of mourning
In the gentle hands that hold me
Because now, I know.
Tomorrow I will see the world through different eyes.

I am sharing my experience on Mind Body Thoughts because through my work with Jim Fazio I found Don, and we have become good friends. What he writes on his blog is courageous, open, and honest, and helps me find the courage I need to continue to heal through some very difficult times. Many thanks to Don, for sharing so much of his life with us so we can see there is always hope…and to Jim, for holding on tight and going through the darkness with me.

- Marie

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Jim Fazio, LMT, CSI, UTP

Website:   Integrative Bodywork, Inc.

Activating the Brain-Body Connection for Healing.

Promote Health and Wellness, not disease and illness

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2017 by Don Shetterly and Marie

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Making It Through Painful Moments

I was asked what it was like when I walked away from my family in order to survive.  How did I make it through the painful moment.  Much of this applies to how survivors of childhood sexual abuse and other trauma deal with making it through painful moments.

Walking away from my family was the only way I could make it because the family was so toxic, that in order for me to heal and make it, I had to let go. It was not easy.  They didn't just go away quietly either.

It was extremely difficult to walk away.  I struggled hard with that. I had anxiety attacks just to go get my mail out of the mailbox.  It was a time in my life that I had to let go of things that held me down.  These painful moments were difficult beyond comprehension.

Far too many people have told me that you create your own family.  While that is true, there is a biological connection that can never be replaced (well, it seems that way in my mind).  When you fought your entire life growing up to just be a part of the family and have those that are supposedly there for you, abuse you - then family is just one messed up and tangled mess.  It isn't as easy to create a family unit as many people try to tell you that it is.

Sometimes I get to the moment that I want to reunite with them, but then I hear stories from others and it is a caution to me to tread carefully into those treacherous waters.  I choose to not swim in the swamp, especially after hearing these stories.  Holidays usually bring that up front and center to me, even though I try to flee from it as fast as I can.

My head swirled for days...

After the incident where a relative asked me If I wanted to come to their house when a family member was in the area, my head swirled for hours, days from the anxiety… heck I don’t know when it stopped.  I won’t say it was easy.  I won’t say it magically was all better the next day.  The only thing I know is that I was stronger at that moment than I was in the past.  In the past, I made it through this, so if I’m stronger – I knew I would make it through this moment.  It is what I had to hold on to at that point.  That’s healing.  Yet, it was doused with anxiety and pain.

Yes, we often feel like we have dropped back so many steps and we’re in a deficit, but in many ways – we’re still further ahead.  We make it though somehow.  We live to fight another day somehow.  Sometimes, that’s all that matters in the moment.  We’re making it.  We’re living to fight another day.

Where we are in that moment...

It's okay if we find ourselves on the floor, struggling and hurting and wondering if we’ll ever make it.  It’s okay because in that moment, because that’s where we are.  That is what it is in that moment.  It is from that where we find our footing again and our way forward.  Only this time, we are more full of power and energy and strength because we’ve made it this far already.  We've got another sword in our supply closet and more tools in our toolbox.

When I laid in the hospital bed wondering if I would ever walk again, it took me to the point of utter despair where I screamed out – am I okay with this?  Am I comfortable with being a vegetable – unable to walk, talk, take care of myself.  It was in that moment that I found my footing.  It was in that moment that I started to move forward, not even realizing I was doing this and not even knowing how to move forward.  Sometimes in that moment, that is more than enough.  The rest will come.  The rest will fall into place.

I wasn't supposed to walk again...

I wasn’t supposed to walk again.  I wasn’t supposed to work or function like most people.  I was not expected to make it out of the conversion disorder.  No one could tell me the way out.  No one could show me the way out.  I had to fight, and kick, and scream every step of the way walking into the blindness of the fog that was before me.  It was in those dark moments that my journey of healing was already happening.

Yes, there are the voices.  Yes, they get loud.  They try hard to hold me down.  They fight against me telling me that I can't make it through this. They tell me I'm not good enough.  They tell me I'm not worthy.  They tell me I will not make it.   I just tell them to rot in hell…    And if they keep coming back up, I just repeat the previous statement.

We’re making it… we really are.  We’re moving into deeper layers and further awareness even if it is hard to comprehend what that means in that moment.

I know you are making it – because I’ve walked similar roads and I still remember what the shoes feel like when walking in them.

Find whatever it is that helps shift you from all that you’re struggling against – and push the gas pedal to the floor.  Call on your angels or God or the universe or whoever it is you believe in – just ask for them (it) to be there.  Just know that you’re not alone.  Call on your support network and your friends.  Be close to your pets and animals.  These things will help hold you while you find the strength to keep going.

Know that making it through painful moments may not be easy, but you can do this.  We're all in this together and together we help one another along.  Grab the hand out in front of you because it is someone that knows where the path leads.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2017 by Don Shetterly

• Permission required before any part of this blog post is reprinted, reworded or used in any form. 
• You are welcomed to share the LINK to this blog post.  

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The Abuse Seemed Normal To Me

Isn't it obvious?  Can't you see it?  I mean, everyone else can!  What am I talking about?  It is about how we often don't see the abuse that is happening before our very eyes.  We don't fully see all that we've gone through.

Usually this is for a good reason because if the mind had to confront everything that was happening while it was happening, it would short circuit and not be able to handle it all.  For an adult, it is hard enough, but for a young child, the mind really gets challenged when it is being abused.

A child is born into this world looking up to their parents and family for sustenance, love, support, encouragement and safety.  When a child is abused, these things are tossed aside in the trash and the child is left to comprehend a world that goes against biology.

When a child goes through abuse, whether it is sexual abuse or physical and emotional abuse, often the kid has no idea that anything else exists outside of this behavior.  It becomes the norm in life.  It becomes the world that the child knows and so it almost looks normal.

There may be a part of the child which knows the abuse isn't normal, but the abuse is the only world they know.  With the family secrets and the shame and the pain, there is no way the child can discover a different world beyond what they see every day.  The biological body and mind knows no different and through these things, it is kept in the dark.

For a long time, I didn't realize that some of what I had been through was abuse.  I just thought everyone was forced to take baths with their older brothers and father, which resulted in constant sexual molestation.  I just thought that it was normal for all fathers to watch their children dress and undress even in their teenage years.  I just thought it was normal that if you didn't allow them to sexually abuse you, that God wouldn't love you and you would miss out on the affection shown to you by them.

There have been so many things that I thought were normal and now as I've been in a loving relationship with my husband, I've found out they were not normal.  When I have started to talk to others that have been through things and shared the details of behavior I went through, it is then that I realized, it was not normal behavior.  It was abuse.

Having a father demean you constantly and scream at you is not anything a child should ever have to endure.  Having to live in a world of chaos each and every day, tiptoeing around my father to see what might set him off in a fit of rage was a challenge.  The little things that could spark a violent tirade of abuse on myself or my mom and brothers was a random event that happened when you least expected it.  Usually there was no warning to what would make the bomb explode.

Being constantly told how worthless you were or stupid or how little common sense you had would rip any sense of self worth you had into shreds.  Those moments seemed normal to me and so I continued to live in a self-imposed world of perfection so I could try and find some value.  Plus, I didn't want to upset God because bad stuff would happen to me then.

Every bit of my life was controlled and manipulated and the minute you thought you had it figured out, the rules changes.  The behaviors changed.  The corresponding actions and results changed.  There was no guessing what would happen or when it would happen.  This was the world I grew up in.  It was all I thought existed.

One of the things that I see others struggle with just like myself in healing is that you have to come to terms with what was normal or not in your childhood.  To come to terms though, means you have to touch the pain and horror of those moments where it was not normal.  It is never easy to touch the pain and sorrow you have experience in life.  It takes courage and often a helping hand to walk with you through those fires.

For me, I had to walk away from my family in order to find myself and my life.  I had to say enough was enough and I will be the first to tell you that this was as difficult as it gets.  There is nothing that can replace the biological connection of a mother, father or family unit.  Yes, you learn to live and go on, but that biological cellular connection is always there.

We all learn from the behavior we witness and endure.  We all function in life based upon what was done to us and what we witnessed.  Healing is about learning which parts of our life no longer serve us now, even if they helped us survive those horrible moments.  Healing is about understanding that things were not normal, even if it is the only world we knew.

It is about learning to piece our lives together and helping teach ourselves all that we need in life.  Yes, we got short changed as kids, but now through healing, we can begin to create the life we want with the people in it that we want.

It is like the storybook of our lives where you can choose to put in each day's chapter that which you want and need and desire.  If it doesn't work out the way you want it to, you're always free to create something different tomorrow.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2016 by Don Shetterly

• Permission required before any part of this blog post is reprinted, reworded or used in any form. 
• You are welcomed to share the LINK to this blog post.  

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Living A Disconnected Life

Hello?  Is anyone there?  Okay, you're here, but are you alive?  Are you present and connected?  You say, "Yes, I am here and connected," but are you really?

You see, we tend to keep ourselves so busy in a day.  Its far easier that way because then we don't have to feel.  You know, feel all the stress and torment we've experience in life or feel all the stress from the weight of responsibilities in life that we have.  Its easier to just not feel.

If we begin to feel, sometimes life gets too overwhelming and we look for the mind numbing escape routes.  We sure do have those escape routes.  It is part of being human in a human body, but when we numb out, we're not being human.

Hear the birds sing....

In the course of your day, how often do you just go outside and feel the sun upon your face, or hear a bird sing?  How often do you just notice your breath and stop in stillness for 30 seconds?  How often do you immerse yourself in nature or just take a moment and watch your pets run and play through the house?

We tend to go on Facebook or Twitter constantly during the day and night.  Yes, they are designed to keep you engaged, but the mind and the eyes and the body need a rest.  They don't need to stay this engaged all the time.  It is not healthy.  It is living a disconnected life.

We engage in the latest political gossip of our day, making it our life's purpose to set those straight that disagree with us.  We know that it is our responsibility to do this which is true to a point, but at some point, we lose the limits of life.  We become disconnected in life chasing down the lowest form of discourse.

Often we don't read what we share or pass on through social media.  We just like and click.  Granted there is far too much out there in a day to read, but it doesn't stop us from being part of the problem, rather than part of the solution.  We mindlessly forward and share all that comes our way, not stopping to realize just how much we are living a disconnected life.

Fail to stay engaged with family...

We go home and our families and children and friends become something we chat with when we have little else we're doing.  We fail to stay engaged and keep them in the loop of our life, thereby alienating them from what is happening with our life.  We just assume they know how much they mean to us, but we fail to communicate this to them.  After all, we are living a disconnected life.

We dish out memes to those around us hoping to make them feel like we appreciate them, but our words often fall short.  There is no true feeling and connection in the meme, but it doesn't stop us from allowing it to take our place in the relationship we have with those we care about and love.  Living in a disconnected life keeps us from seeing what it is we actually do to others we care about and love.

Not everything is worthy of our time...

Not everything that happens in the news is worthy of our time.  Not everything that others expect from us is an expectation we should put on our self.  Not everything that we think is important is as important as we think it is.

Taking care of ourselves and learning how to stop and smell the roses is far more important than all the hundreds of tasks you try to do in a day.  It is more important than all the likes and shares on social media.  Taking care of yourself is far more important than being engaged with the latest tirades from the news-makers of the day.

Living a connected life should be what we should strive for in our years.  Connecting with our mind and body, learning to stop and enjoy life or just taking a moment to truly connect with others; this should be on our list of goals.  If you're living a disconnected life, you've lost site of what being human is and its taking you on a dead-end road to nowhere.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2016 by Don Shetterly

• Permission required before any part of this blog post is reprinted, reworded or used in any form. 
• You are welcomed to share the LINK to this blog post.  

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Hurt By Silence

Growing up, it was the weapon of choice.  My family knew how to use silence and they could out duel anyone with this weapon at a moment's notice.  I was hurt by silence as a kid and I'm still hurt by it today.

It didn't matter if the "crime" you were sentenced to justified the punishment, but silence was always one of the measures that was taken.  Yes, there were other punishments as well, but the silence played a key role in any judgment handed down.

In fact, when someone was given the silent treatment, the entire family knew that this was happening.  You did not dare cross the line of speaking to that particular family member because if you did, you risked getting the silent treatment upon yourself.  If this happened, most of the time any other person would be free from silence jail if they were in it.

I freak out at silence...

I struggle with this today.  Whether it is a friend or some business contact, if there is silence, I'm beginning to freak out.  I can't deal with it that easy.  It was such a weapon growing up that the slightest hint it is being employed and I'm down the river.

If you didn't do what the family expected, you got the silent treatment.  If you didn't answer a question in the way they demanded and expected, you got the silent treatment.  If you gave them a look that caused them to feel threatened or wounded, you got the silent treatment.

If you disobeyed their every command or decided to embark upon a decision all by yourself, you got the silent treatment.  If you dared to not follow the pack, you got the silent treatment.  If you even gave the slightest hint that you might share something from the family with anyone else, you got the silent treatment.

So many unwritten rules...

There were so many unwritten rules where they would pronounce you the judgment of being thrown into the silence jail.  When that sentence would be lifted was up to them and almost had nothing to do with what you did or did not do.

You could beg and plead, but that usually got you an extended sentence.  The best way out of it was to hope that another member of the family screwed up in some way and they got sentenced to silence.  There was generally only a place for one person in the silence jail.

It was horrible having people around you, but they wouldn't speak to you.  It was gut wrenching.  It was nerve racking.

As a member of the family, you were not allowed to pronounce silence on any other unless they were less significant than you.  However, the patriarch judge of the family was the supreme ruler with no appeal process.  He and he alone doled out the silent treatment.

To this day...

To this day, I can't stand the silent treatment. If you want to lose me as a friend, give me the silent treatment and see how far that goes.

As I once told a boss who was worried that I was upset with him, "as long as I'm talking to you, I'm not upset."   Its when I get silent that usually signals I'm upset.  For if I get too upset, I find it better to just not say anything because my words will not come out correctly.

Silence messes with your mind.  It makes you feel less than.  It is a control and manipulation technique that was passed down to me which I try hard to never use.  Unfortunately I am human and I was taught well how to employ this technique.

At times in life, I'm hurt by silence.  I love hearing the sounds of someone's voice, or the thoughts of someone that is a thinker.  I love to hear the connections made by the utterance of sound and silence stops all that.  Silence prevents all that.  Silence hurts!

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2016 by Don Shetterly

• Permission required before any part of this blog post is reprinted, reworded or used in any form. 
• You are welcomed to share the LINK to this blog post.  

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Loneliness And The Brain

This is definitely something I struggle with in my own life.  Loneliness is not easy to overcome and I've fought it as far back as I can remember.  There are several factors in my own life why loneliness is such an issue for me.

I wish I could remember the name of a film we watched in grade school many years ago.  I don't recall much of it now because I was so young at the time, but I really identified with the kid in the film.  For some reason, the thought I came away from it and remembered was that you could die if you were lonely.  Now, I'm not so sure that was the intent of the film, but it is what my mind remembers.

Growing up in my family, I was often thrown to the side for various reasons.  There is the time that my mom chose my dad over me when he had hepatitis in the hospital and for some reason I was in the hospital being taken care of by nurses.  Also, the times where I got locked in a closet by a babysitter so she didn't have to worry about me.  My brothers also stole the show and caused my parents to spend more time with them, leaving me to fend for myself and figure life out on my own.

The chaos of our house made it difficult to form relationships in the family because if you weren't getting abused, molested, or tortured, you were tip-toeing around on eggshells trying to not be noticed.  In addition, we moved so many times before I graduated from high school that I barely had a best friend for very long.  I was taught to not trust friends because then they might learn the family secrets.

All of these things made loneliness one of my best companions.  Yes, I had my dogs and cats, but they too were killed and removed from me by the monsters in my life.  I had my sheep and hogs in high school, but there would always be some reason that my parents would come up with to get rid of them.

To this day, I struggle with loneliness.  I have very few true friends and one of them that I had known almost the longest passed away from pneumonia.  I'm so afraid that everyone I know will either leave me, find an excuse to avoid me, or will end up dying and not be there for me.  I'm being brutally honest here because this is what I experience.

Reading the article from the work that John Cacioppo is doing on loneliness, was something refreshing for me to read.  I did not realize anyone was even looking at the topic. In his work at the University of Chicago, he looks at what happens to the brain when the social connections are missing.

One of the points that he makes is you can have too many social connections.  If you have too many, it can end up being that many of these connections are not motivated by the right things.  Sometimes fewer connections are better. 

I find it amazing that 25% of Americans according to his book have no confidant at all in their life.  While it is hard to determine how many confidants are ideal, one is better than zero and two is better than one.

Even being a client of a professional therapist is not enough.  It may provide a person that is someone you can confide in, but it is a one-way street.  It doesn't allow you to have that rich reciprocal bond.  It takes a two-way relationship for our connection to be strong and effective.

According to John Cacioppo's research, one in four people regularly feel lonely.  Chronic loneliness increases the odds of an early death by 20%.  Loneliness decreases the effectiveness of sleep.

In the article, Loneliness Is Like An Iceberg, just putting lonely people together does not work because it confuses the idea of loneliness with the fact of being alone.  Just focusing on social skills is not going to do too much because a lonely person is focused on self-preservation.  It is not the answer to just give lonely people support of the people around them because it takes reciprocal connections.

The one treatment that did seem to help was changing how lonely people think about other people.  Helping them to understand what happens when their brain goes into self-preservation mode is an effective way for helping give lonely people a chance at overcoming this struggle.

Too often in our world, we want to run over those that seem weaker or who are more outcast.  Instead of getting to know them and understand what makes them tick, we sentence them to a life of loneliness.  When you combine that with loss and trauma in the life of a lonely person, you're only casting them to the outer darkness of society.

I believe these are important conversations to have because if we want to survive as a species on this planet, we cannot go through life ignoring the people who are lonely.  We need to be a species that you don't house alone, but that you put together for the greater good of society and our planet.

As I stated in the beginning, I still struggle with the issue of loneliness and I feel all alone.

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Blog Post And Images (c) 2016 by Don Shetterly

• Permission required before any part of this blog post is reprinted, reworded or used in any form. 
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Jealousy In My Family

Growing up, I experienced many things.  One of these things was jealousy within my family.  No matter what I did or what happened, someone was always jealous.  It actually was quite exhausting at times.

If we would have been walking along and some apple farmer offered us an apple, it would have been a prime opportunity for jealousy in my family to appear.  Imagine if a farmer said, "you can have an apple, but the only thing is you have to pick it yourself."  So, playing along, I went up and picked an apple for myself because the farmer said we could only pick one and no more.  My family of course that would be there in the moment with me would say, "but we didn't get an apple".  I would respond, "but all you have to do is pick an apple from the tree."

Regardless, they would have been jealous of my apple that I went and picked from the tree.  Even if they could have done the same thing, it didn't matter.  They became the victim and it always drove me nuts.  They would claim that I was the lucky one and that I had an advantage they did not have.

Throughout my early years, I worked hard during the summer doing all kinds of farm labor work.  As a result, I was able to save a lot of money for college and buy my first car.  None of this money was handed to me.  I had to work hard to get it and push myself far beyond my limits at times.  Much of the work was rough, dirty, and difficult, but I did it.  I built up a reputation with local farmers that kept me busy in the area we lived.

My family would get jealous of me.  They wanted in on the money, not necessarily the work.  I still remember asking one of the local farmers when they called me if they wanted my brother to work for them.  Of course, they politely said "NO!" we just want you.  It was there way of saying much more without saying it.  You had to want to do the work to get the money.

When I went to college, I was one of the first in my family to get a degree.  Instead of being happy for me, some in my family were extremely jealous of what I had obtained.  It was not a degree that was just handed to me.  I had to spend a lot of hard hours studying and persevering through days in college that would bring you to your knees.  Yet, my family who didn't want to do the same thing, somehow thought I got this handed to me and they should have it handed to them.  Of course, the label they would throw at me in disdain was that I was an over-educated college idiot.  How nice!

Then when I got my first job, I worked hard at interviews and doing all that I could in negotiating my salary and position.  It wasn't like they handed me this nice job.  I was qualified for it and worked hard to get it.  Yet, since it was not given to them, they thought I was the one that had something shoved up my backside.

Never in my life have I asked for a handout from others.  I work extremely hard to get everything I have gotten.  I push myself hard and so for others to be jealous, it amazes me to no end.  Yes, people have helped me from time to time, but not because of me being jealous.

We all have our own crosses to bear, but jealousy really zaps your own personal power.  It takes you off your full potential because you're like one of the cows in the pasture wishing you were in the other pasture.  You're giving up your personal power to something that will give you nothing in return.

Sometimes we have to be content with what we have and where we are at.  Sometimes, it is all up to the decisions we make, how much we believe in ourselves, and what we are willing to do to make it in life.  It is often part of our own personal discovery and narrative in life.

It really isn't about what others do, because their actions have very little to do with the choices we currently make for our life.

Growing up with jealousy in my family was quite annoying.  It often led me to holding back on sharing with them things that were happening.  I just wanted them to be happy, not jealous for me.  After all, I had the daily battle scars to show just how difficult it was to obtain some of what I have in life.

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Unknown Family Secrets

The other night I was watching a TV show about using forensic science to bring answers to crimes that had been committed.  In this case, a lady had witnessed her father beating her mother so badly that she died.  The lady then saw her dad dig a hole out by their pool, lay her mother in it and have cement poured over it the next day.

The thing is, the lady was so young that none of this made sense.  She just thought her mother was sleeping and wouldn't wake up.  A series of events unfolded and they were able to convict her father of murder, which then he went to prison.  She was so young at the time, that her brain could not process what had happened.

There are family secrets.  There are unknown family secrets.