Poetry

as i sit
my thoughts race
what is this place
is it a memory?
why cant i see
dissociated
complicated
i sit and wait
for what seems like an eternity
when really
its only a couple of minutes
as the flashbacks hits full on
i try to be strong
but fear gives way to tears
and i cry and cry
cant say i know why
memories of abuse sting
and i am contemplating
what to do next
and where to go with this

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todays the day

today is the day I start college. I am nervous. But I also cant wait.

Let the learning begin. I’m ready. Bring it on.

I only got 3 hours of sleep. I woke at 5 AM. The 3 hours I did get were broken. I was tossing and turning. Eventually I decided to get up and shower.

Now I am drinking coffee and going through email. I love early mornings…they are so peaceful. When the world sleeps and I am awake.

I have such a busy tuesday ahead. I’ll be on the go for the entire day.

I hope college is good tonight. Please send good wishes and support. i can do this. I know I can.

Alcoholism in the family

so when we were little, like under 2, we lived with our dads family. there was mom, dad and me, my dads mom, his sister and brother all living in the same house. his mom, sister and brother were all alcoholics. my mom was young, she was 17 when she had me. she was young and vulnerable and very scared. she grew up with violence and conflict and stuff but not alcoholism. all of this was new to her. she had a lot to learn. when she would go somewhere where she could not take me along, i was looked after either by my aunt dads sister or his mom. they were always drunk. they could not look after me properly. they were careless and left us in dangerous situations. so many times. we were traumatised. left alone. alone to fend for ourselves. we learned not to cry. we learned to be quiet. so as not to cause arguments or get hurt by drunk people. it was our normal. tonight i am remembering. and it hurts. the pain of remembering is so overwhelming. why did this have to happen? why? a question I’ll never find ansers too.
carol anne

Poetry black tar

i wonder
will i ever be free
free to be me
free to be a kid
is it possible
these are my thoughts
as i sit here swimming
in pain and terror
i dont feel together
i am falling apart
emotionally i feel like black tar
cant get through it
get to the other side
always having to hide
hide hide hide
memories flow
oh where can i go
my head pounds
i am afraid to make a sound
eyes burn
stomach churns
afraid, afraid
afraid of this day
will it ever be over?

Book review. Cruel to be kind by Cathy Glass

Just finished an amazing foster care memoir by Cathy glass.

This is her latest book, just released last week. Its called cruel to be kind.

This is Max’s story. Max was six when he came to live with Cathy. His mother was in hospital and he’d been left at home alone so was temporarily brought into care.

When Cathy first met him she got a shock because he was very obese. Much of the book centres on his obesity. He was six and weighed 119 pounds.

The book is sad in many places. His mother and sisters are also very obese. Throughout the book he goes on a diet but when he has contact at home he doesn’t stick to it, however he does lose some weight.

I’m not going to say exactly what happens in the book because I don’t want to give too much away but it is a very very good read, parts of the book are very sad and tragic but parts of it are also very uplifting.

The book is available on audible and in print and on kindle.

I couldn’t put it down once I started reading it. I was totally addicted as I am with all of Cathys books.

I will say the book has a very positive ending.

When make believe and reality collide

I thought our therapy session today was going to be a therapy review. That is what we had planned for last week. But things changed today. We met a very young part. A 7 year old named Jessy. Jessy was very traumatised. It all started when Eileen asked about the weekend. I told Eileen that some insiders were panicking, and they’d had a pretty bad weekend. I tried to tune in to see if I could get a sense of why, because I didnt know, all I knew was that kids were struggling with memories. And I was starting to merge with them and the feelings that were coming up. Eileen asked me if she could speak to one of them and I said I thought so if they were willing to speak. So I stepped back and left a space for whoever wanted to come out. And that is when Jessy came forward. She was crying hysterically. Eileen held her for a few minutes and talked softly to her. “dont worry, I am here” “your ok” “You dont have to tell me anything” “I just want to talk to you and figure out what you’ve been told by the bad people, I dont want you to tell me about memories, lets just sit here and talk for a few minutes, and then together we can figure out what is going on ok?”. At this point she didnt know her name. She only knew her age. When her tears subsided, she asked Eileen “will you hold my hand?” Eileen gently took one of her hands in both of hers. Rubbing her fingers softly against her palms, she started talking to her again. And then it all came tumbling out. How the bad people told her they were always going to be watching her, how they said they planted eyes in her tummy, and they’d always be able to see what she was up to and hear what she was saying, how she could never tell anything to anyone because if she did something bad would happen to her. Again Jessy starteed crying hysterically. Reaching across to us Eileen hugged her tightly. “you are so brave” “they were so very mean” “I am so so sorry for what they did to you”. Then she slowly tried to go about explaining to Jessy that what they said wasnt true. That your eyes have to be connected to your brain in order to see. And that even if they said they did, that they actually did not plant eyes inside of her tummy. But since she was just little her imagination made her believe that what they said was true. She asked Jessy if she knew the difference between make believe and real things. She didnt. So it was then doubly hard to explain it to her. Jessy is stuck, stuck in a time when we were 7 years old. For her, time has stood still. She still thinks we are in dublin. Eileen asked her if she knew anyone inside, she knew a few of the kids and Jade. So Eileen asked Jade to come sit with her and support her. Then I also sat with them. I was kind of in shock with all the info that Jessy was giving, I hadnt been aware that the abusers had said this stuff to her. Eileen kept on explaining about the body being older now, about jade and me being grown ups, and other things about our abusers being cruel and mean and tricking her. I think after a while she got it. Sorta. I think it will take a long time and a lot of therapy before she fully understands. Although she did say she wanted what eileen was saying to be true. It makes me incredibly sad to think of her being told that someone would put eyes inside her and watch her and do bad stuff to her if they found out she’d told. No 7 year old child should have to struggle with that. It was an incredibly sad session. Eileen asked myself and Jade if we would support Jessy this week. I told her she didnt have to worry we are both happy to do that. I am drained after todays session. I think its going to be an early night for me tonight.

carol anne