January 30, 2008
The Naked Trees Still Know To Live
I dug out another old poem of mine that I'd like to share.
Hope’s Song
I love to watch the birds
They fly and flit with constant chatter
It helps me clear these words
In my mind, fear’s negative clatter
It gives me hope to hear
Strong-held faith in nature’s song
Wipe away my painful tears
I see life it carries on
With the gently falling snow
The naked trees still know to live
It reminds me that I grow
Only when I can forgive.
Copyright 2003 Marj McCabe ~ All Rights Reserved
As you might ascertain from my previous post on shame, I'm still working on forgiving myself. That's one of my biggest healing goals.
I think we all need to forgive ourselves, at one time or another, for being human. The good news is that, as humans, there is always a place for us in this world.
Hope’s Song
I love to watch the birds
They fly and flit with constant chatter
It helps me clear these words
In my mind, fear’s negative clatter
It gives me hope to hear
Strong-held faith in nature’s song
Wipe away my painful tears
I see life it carries on
With the gently falling snow
The naked trees still know to live
It reminds me that I grow
Only when I can forgive.
Copyright 2003 Marj McCabe ~ All Rights Reserved
As you might ascertain from my previous post on shame, I'm still working on forgiving myself. That's one of my biggest healing goals.
I think we all need to forgive ourselves, at one time or another, for being human. The good news is that, as humans, there is always a place for us in this world.
Labels: being human, hope, nature's healing, poem, Poetry, self-forgiveness, shame
July 12, 2006
The Many Faces of Abuse
I'm writing this post for Marcella's Abyss2Hope Blog Carnival Against Sexual Violence. She wanted to get some articles that involve emotional and verbal abuse.
There was no talking (except for some brief begging from me) during my college rape. But, the abuse that I suffered as a child--sexual, physical and what I call spiritual--cannot be separated from the emotional and verbal abuse that went along with it.
My father could be described as many things, one being a rage addict. He would fly into out-of-control rages that always included verbal abuse toward anyone who happened to be in his way at the time. Some of his favorite terms to use on me were, "idiot," and "stupid moron." I still play these tapes in my mind when I hit a low spot. My work continues for improving my self-esteem and eliminating those terms from my self-talk vocabulary.
When I was growing up, my father was an avid tennis player. He prided himself on being able to easily defeat tennis opponents who were half his age. At one point, he decided that he was going to give his three young children tennis lessons. I remember that we were given these wooden "rackets" to use. I remember them looking homemade--my father may have crafted them himself. They looked like something one would use to play a giant game of ping pong.
I'll never forget my father's lack of patience and annoyance when attempting to teach us tennis. One of his favorite coaching techniques was to come up right behind me and yell in my ear, "What are you, an idiot?!"
He was also verbally abusive during the sexual abuse, of course. I think, however, that my mother's verbal and emotional abuse following sexual assaults was much more damaging to me. The betrayal, abandonment and rejection from my mother is still difficult for me to deal with. On numerous occasions, my mother would clean me up after my father had his way with me. I remember lying on the little bath rug in the middle of the bathroom floor while my mother dabbed and wiped.
The message was clear from her words to me during these clean-up sessions. It was a message of judgment and damnation and it was almost impossible for me to bear. My mother called me a "bad, dirty, evil girl." Then she would lament about how she seriously doubted that even God could forgive such a girl as me. She told me I would have to pray diligently to Jesus to intervene on my behalf. Perhaps, if I asked Jesus into my heart and prayed and prayed for his forgiveness and intervention, I would be able to avoid the fires of hell.
One of my mother's top priorities was to see to it that her children were raised in a strict Christian religious upbringing. I remember a lot of talk about the concept of original sin in these early teachings. Because I believed what I was told about original sin, I was sure that I was just born bad and evil. I was convinced that I deserved everything that both of my parents dished out with their abuse of me. I knew to my core that I deserved what I got and I would most likely never be forgiven for it.
This is the verbal abuse that leads to emotional damage of what I call spiritual abuse. I believe that it suited the interests of both of my parents to break my spirit. They attempted soul murder.
I no longer believe in hell. This spiritual shift has provided enormous relief for me. I now believe in a loving, compassionate and accepting God--not one who condemns tiny children to burn for eternity. The tapes that play "stupid moron" in my head have lost quite a bit of their potency. Yet, my self-esteem is still a work in progress.
Don't forget: The deadline for the second edition of our Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is Monday, July 17, 2006. You can browse the carnivals in alpha order at www.blogcarnival.com or go directly to the submission form here.
***Trigger Warning: Be careful and stay safe while reading the following material.***
There was no talking (except for some brief begging from me) during my college rape. But, the abuse that I suffered as a child--sexual, physical and what I call spiritual--cannot be separated from the emotional and verbal abuse that went along with it.
My father could be described as many things, one being a rage addict. He would fly into out-of-control rages that always included verbal abuse toward anyone who happened to be in his way at the time. Some of his favorite terms to use on me were, "idiot," and "stupid moron." I still play these tapes in my mind when I hit a low spot. My work continues for improving my self-esteem and eliminating those terms from my self-talk vocabulary.
When I was growing up, my father was an avid tennis player. He prided himself on being able to easily defeat tennis opponents who were half his age. At one point, he decided that he was going to give his three young children tennis lessons. I remember that we were given these wooden "rackets" to use. I remember them looking homemade--my father may have crafted them himself. They looked like something one would use to play a giant game of ping pong.
I'll never forget my father's lack of patience and annoyance when attempting to teach us tennis. One of his favorite coaching techniques was to come up right behind me and yell in my ear, "What are you, an idiot?!"
He was also verbally abusive during the sexual abuse, of course. I think, however, that my mother's verbal and emotional abuse following sexual assaults was much more damaging to me. The betrayal, abandonment and rejection from my mother is still difficult for me to deal with. On numerous occasions, my mother would clean me up after my father had his way with me. I remember lying on the little bath rug in the middle of the bathroom floor while my mother dabbed and wiped.
The message was clear from her words to me during these clean-up sessions. It was a message of judgment and damnation and it was almost impossible for me to bear. My mother called me a "bad, dirty, evil girl." Then she would lament about how she seriously doubted that even God could forgive such a girl as me. She told me I would have to pray diligently to Jesus to intervene on my behalf. Perhaps, if I asked Jesus into my heart and prayed and prayed for his forgiveness and intervention, I would be able to avoid the fires of hell.
One of my mother's top priorities was to see to it that her children were raised in a strict Christian religious upbringing. I remember a lot of talk about the concept of original sin in these early teachings. Because I believed what I was told about original sin, I was sure that I was just born bad and evil. I was convinced that I deserved everything that both of my parents dished out with their abuse of me. I knew to my core that I deserved what I got and I would most likely never be forgiven for it.
This is the verbal abuse that leads to emotional damage of what I call spiritual abuse. I believe that it suited the interests of both of my parents to break my spirit. They attempted soul murder.
I no longer believe in hell. This spiritual shift has provided enormous relief for me. I now believe in a loving, compassionate and accepting God--not one who condemns tiny children to burn for eternity. The tapes that play "stupid moron" in my head have lost quite a bit of their potency. Yet, my self-esteem is still a work in progress.
Don't forget: The deadline for the second edition of our Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is Monday, July 17, 2006. You can browse the carnivals in alpha order at www.blogcarnival.com or go directly to the submission form here.
Labels: abandonment, awareness, betrayal, Blog Against Sexual Violence, broken, child abuse, rejection, self-esteem, self-forgiveness
