I was reading different articles regarding PTSD, mental/emotional abuse and physical abuse. I do this from time to time as a part of my healing.
The abusive relationship I was in prior to my marriage still affects me to this day. I have come such a long way in recognizing the polarizing ways it has affected my thinking, my behavior, my relationships. I discovered early on that you can be a "strong" person--capable of helping others--capable of handling life--capable of loving deeply and still have so so many things to work through.
When something is embedded in your brain, your psyche...I've learned that even when you have made strides in overcoming it....there are times that you fall back into patterns. I can't say for everyone what might cause this. I know for myself it happens when I'm tired, feeling insecure or unsafe, or I've experienced a trigger. I don't know if this is something that will ever go away. But I know that I've learned to try and "catch" myself and redirect my thinking sooner than I used to.
Here are some behaviors of someone who has experienced abuse.
-constantly apologizes
-hides feelings in fear of upsetting other people
-may break down during small disagreements
-needs a lot of reassurance
-doubts worth and value
At any time...these can quickly fall back into unhealthy patterns for me.
And the difficult part is, that in the warped thinking occurring at the time...you really believe that these behaviors are warranted because of the 'other' person. However, when the relationship or situation where these behaviors were warranted no longer exists....the 'other' person is just a phantom that continues to haunt you.
I guess I'm writing this blog for a couple of reasons. Self disclosure is incredibly healing for me..it helps to get it out from the shadows of my soul. If sharing can help someone identify some of their own 'stuff'...what a gift...for them and for me. If someone recognizes someone they love? They might learn to love them better.
When you are safe. Gone from the abusive person, situation, event...take inventory and if any of the above behaviors seem to haunt you...have crept into your current life...or maybe never left...these reminders might be helpful. Please know, these are not meant to be seen as easy fixes or fool proof ways of getting over your PTSD....but simple thinking that has helped and continues to help reshape my mind and heart.
Do not apologize. For your opinion. For not meeting someone's expectation of you. For choosing differently than the majority. For existing.
Do not hide your feelings. Or fake them for that matter. If you are angry, you are angry. If you are sad, you are sad. If you have joy, have your joy.
Do not make little things big. Some things are big. Don't minimize. But the reverse of that is also true. A small disagreement...is not going to lead to physical abuse. You are safe now.
Do not seek validation from others. Find your voice. And use it. Find what is for you and what is not. Strive daily for the self confidence to stand strong in your decisions.
The last? The most important.
Do not ever. ever. ever doubt your worth. You are precious, beautiful....inspiring, special....important and unique.
If someone abuses you? Mentally, emotionally, physically.....they might take your power and worth for a moment.
But that moment? Does not have to last the rest of your life.
Don't deny humanity the joy of you.
You matter because you exist.
Nothing more and nothing less.
From every carefully placed hair on your head, to your incredibly complicated mind, to your heart full of heartache and hope, to your feet ready to stand firm...
You matter.
I matter.
That's what I got today.
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Saturday, March 4, 2017
Safe and Sound....
A couple of days ago I asked a question on Facebook about where people fee the safest and why. There were a few different answers but the most common answer was HOME. The a common reason was they feel like themselves, they can be comfortable and no judgment, they call the shots.
It was the answer that I figured most people would say...and it was spurred on by an internal dialogue I had been having for a few days. My youngest son wants to go to a spring game with some future teammates to Northwest Missouri for their spring game. It's an exciting time and as future Bearcats, they are pretty anxious to go. They will stay with athletes they met on previous visits, drive down together for the weekend and then return home.
I am so hesistant to say yes. And there's the whole--will they crash the car? Will they make poor choices? Will they do something dumb?
But it's more.
It has reminded me of how I felt when my daughter went to college vs. when my older son's did.
With my daughter I was appropriately nervous/excited. She was adequately prepared...she was ready to fly the coop...ready to conquer the world. She was living in the dorms and knew many of the basic things an 18 year old needed to know. I prayed a lot and trusted that even if she didn't make all the "right" choices....she was going to fully develop into a vibrant and outstanding citizen.
My son's? They were adequately prepared....they were ready to fly the coop...ready to conquer the world. They were living in the dorms and knew many of the basic things an 18 year old needed to know. I prayed a lot and trusted that even if they didn't make all of the "right" choices....they were going to develop into vibrant, outstanding citizens. Well honestly, that's where the divide came.
Because truth be told. I was terrified.
And thinking of my son heading away for the weekend...that terror is back.
Please don't get me wrong. I believe in God and that He holds my children in the palm of His hand. I have seen Him time and time again lift them out of difficult situations and place them on their feet.
I trust Him. I don't trust the world.
They are not safe.
Are any of us safe? At any given time, any given day? I don't know the answer to that.
But I know that my son's are seen by many as aggressive, as a problem, perhaps a criminal, possibly a thief and 'up to something'.
Not because they know them. Or have observed questionable behavior. But because they are black.
Now as an aside, let me say this:
When I write things like this, bare my soul and try to find the words that won't offend white people, won't offend people in my family, won't offend the numerous white people that have loved them and seen them as wonderful young men.....I often get a common response or flood of inboxes reminding me of God's sovereignty, or that ALL parents get worried, or someone always shares a story of something drastic that happened to their WHITE son which most definitely disproves my need for fear for my BLACK sons. Or they bring up, 'Well, they should have listened and they wouldn't be dead, they shouldn't have mouthed off or they wouldn't be beat.' To that I say, 'Cool--the next time your child gets lippy or doesn't listen in my presence...Imma kill them...definitely whoop that tail.' I mean, they obviously have it coming.
This is not encouraging or understanding. It is minimizing and dismissing. And I don't know why people do it? But it happens. And all it does it let me know where someone stands at their core and many of you who follow my blog know one of my favorite sayings, 'We can be casual, but we can't be close.'
But back to safety.
In our home, with our people....like so many expressed the other day on Facebook; there is safety. There is the ability to fully be yourself. You can have different opinions (you might get asked a billion questions about that opinion...let's be honest, you will...but we will love you no what)
Out there? In the world? There often is not.
The first time this was truth for me was when my older two son's were in 1st and 2nd grade. They were fighting at school on the regular because they were being called nigger on the regular. It wasn't stopping. And they were starting to get into trouble for fighting. To the principal's office we went. (another aside, I bet there are a lot of folks waiting for Izzy to graduate so Waukesha School District can be done with us...ha!) We were told that name calling is common and this will likely make them stronger individuals.
Hey lady, that's cool. Now get your damn students to stop calling my sons nigger.
Fast forward a year or two. When a neighbor girl was about to get the blickup (in this context it means-crap beat outta her) because she called one of the boys nigga. Instead, they came home and told me. I was heated. Went to the home and was told that surely she was saying 'nigga'...like-'you my nigga' because you know a lot of black people say that to their friends.
Hey lady, that's cool. Now get your damn kid to stop calling my sons nigger. OR nigga.
Over the years there were dozens of things and situations. Beyond dozens.
And while at the time I don't know if I would have verbalized it as fear. Or recognized my deep desire to keep them safe. But it was laying the framework.
Then came February 26th, 2012. And George Zimmerman murdered Trayvon Martin.
Because he looked suspicious. Because he looked like he didn't belong where he was. Because he felt the need to ignore police command not to pursue. Because he could. And then the whole world knew he could. Because he got away with murder.
My son's were 15, 14, 13. Bonus boy 15 too.
And overcoming my fear? Became an almost daily battle.
So has overcoming my anger.
We often tell them, 'You can't do what other kids do and expect the same response from everyone'
How do you prepare your kids to be free to be themselves while still holding the reality that when they are themselves there is a population of people that may want to, at best harass them. At worst, kill them?
How do I keep them safe?
It's not the possibility that there might be a car accident or underage drinking ticket. I mean, I definitely wouldn't be happy about either of those things but those things can be a pretty common occurrence for any young person. There are so many things parents need to be concerned about, right? But it's that and....
It's the possibility that they might....not make it back home. To safety. And not because of anything they've done or could have done different.
My husband and I have done our best to give them the tools they need. We've done our best to encourage respect and the ability to assess a situation. We've had the numerous talks every parent of black kids better have.
We pray for all of our kids daily. We check in. We laugh and yes, sometimes cringe.
I love to see them grow into adulthood and make decisions and handle business and find success and navigate through failure and detours.
But somewhere in the depths of my soul.
I cling to safety for my sons. And I pray that they never face a George Zimmerman, Michael Dunn or a trigger happy cop who has no qualms about shooting or killing a black man.
I want them to be able to live and move and breathe as fully as they possibly can.
I want them to be able to laugh and relax and have fun as fully as they possibly can.
But I also want them to be aware. To stay alert. To recognize.
It is vital to their safety.
And since I can't keep them home with me forever? And I must and have set them free....
It is also vital to the safety of whoever might try to bring them harm.
That's what I got today.
It was the answer that I figured most people would say...and it was spurred on by an internal dialogue I had been having for a few days. My youngest son wants to go to a spring game with some future teammates to Northwest Missouri for their spring game. It's an exciting time and as future Bearcats, they are pretty anxious to go. They will stay with athletes they met on previous visits, drive down together for the weekend and then return home.
I am so hesistant to say yes. And there's the whole--will they crash the car? Will they make poor choices? Will they do something dumb?
But it's more.
It has reminded me of how I felt when my daughter went to college vs. when my older son's did.
With my daughter I was appropriately nervous/excited. She was adequately prepared...she was ready to fly the coop...ready to conquer the world. She was living in the dorms and knew many of the basic things an 18 year old needed to know. I prayed a lot and trusted that even if she didn't make all the "right" choices....she was going to fully develop into a vibrant and outstanding citizen.
My son's? They were adequately prepared....they were ready to fly the coop...ready to conquer the world. They were living in the dorms and knew many of the basic things an 18 year old needed to know. I prayed a lot and trusted that even if they didn't make all of the "right" choices....they were going to develop into vibrant, outstanding citizens. Well honestly, that's where the divide came.
Because truth be told. I was terrified.
And thinking of my son heading away for the weekend...that terror is back.
Please don't get me wrong. I believe in God and that He holds my children in the palm of His hand. I have seen Him time and time again lift them out of difficult situations and place them on their feet.
I trust Him. I don't trust the world.
They are not safe.
Are any of us safe? At any given time, any given day? I don't know the answer to that.
But I know that my son's are seen by many as aggressive, as a problem, perhaps a criminal, possibly a thief and 'up to something'.
Not because they know them. Or have observed questionable behavior. But because they are black.
Now as an aside, let me say this:
When I write things like this, bare my soul and try to find the words that won't offend white people, won't offend people in my family, won't offend the numerous white people that have loved them and seen them as wonderful young men.....I often get a common response or flood of inboxes reminding me of God's sovereignty, or that ALL parents get worried, or someone always shares a story of something drastic that happened to their WHITE son which most definitely disproves my need for fear for my BLACK sons. Or they bring up, 'Well, they should have listened and they wouldn't be dead, they shouldn't have mouthed off or they wouldn't be beat.' To that I say, 'Cool--the next time your child gets lippy or doesn't listen in my presence...Imma kill them...definitely whoop that tail.' I mean, they obviously have it coming.
This is not encouraging or understanding. It is minimizing and dismissing. And I don't know why people do it? But it happens. And all it does it let me know where someone stands at their core and many of you who follow my blog know one of my favorite sayings, 'We can be casual, but we can't be close.'
But back to safety.
In our home, with our people....like so many expressed the other day on Facebook; there is safety. There is the ability to fully be yourself. You can have different opinions (you might get asked a billion questions about that opinion...let's be honest, you will...but we will love you no what)
Out there? In the world? There often is not.
The first time this was truth for me was when my older two son's were in 1st and 2nd grade. They were fighting at school on the regular because they were being called nigger on the regular. It wasn't stopping. And they were starting to get into trouble for fighting. To the principal's office we went. (another aside, I bet there are a lot of folks waiting for Izzy to graduate so Waukesha School District can be done with us...ha!) We were told that name calling is common and this will likely make them stronger individuals.
Hey lady, that's cool. Now get your damn students to stop calling my sons nigger.
Fast forward a year or two. When a neighbor girl was about to get the blickup (in this context it means-crap beat outta her) because she called one of the boys nigga. Instead, they came home and told me. I was heated. Went to the home and was told that surely she was saying 'nigga'...like-'you my nigga' because you know a lot of black people say that to their friends.
Hey lady, that's cool. Now get your damn kid to stop calling my sons nigger. OR nigga.
Over the years there were dozens of things and situations. Beyond dozens.
And while at the time I don't know if I would have verbalized it as fear. Or recognized my deep desire to keep them safe. But it was laying the framework.
Then came February 26th, 2012. And George Zimmerman murdered Trayvon Martin.
Because he looked suspicious. Because he looked like he didn't belong where he was. Because he felt the need to ignore police command not to pursue. Because he could. And then the whole world knew he could. Because he got away with murder.
My son's were 15, 14, 13. Bonus boy 15 too.
And overcoming my fear? Became an almost daily battle.
So has overcoming my anger.
We often tell them, 'You can't do what other kids do and expect the same response from everyone'
How do you prepare your kids to be free to be themselves while still holding the reality that when they are themselves there is a population of people that may want to, at best harass them. At worst, kill them?
How do I keep them safe?
It's not the possibility that there might be a car accident or underage drinking ticket. I mean, I definitely wouldn't be happy about either of those things but those things can be a pretty common occurrence for any young person. There are so many things parents need to be concerned about, right? But it's that and....
It's the possibility that they might....not make it back home. To safety. And not because of anything they've done or could have done different.
My husband and I have done our best to give them the tools they need. We've done our best to encourage respect and the ability to assess a situation. We've had the numerous talks every parent of black kids better have.
We pray for all of our kids daily. We check in. We laugh and yes, sometimes cringe.
I love to see them grow into adulthood and make decisions and handle business and find success and navigate through failure and detours.
But somewhere in the depths of my soul.
I cling to safety for my sons. And I pray that they never face a George Zimmerman, Michael Dunn or a trigger happy cop who has no qualms about shooting or killing a black man.
I want them to be able to live and move and breathe as fully as they possibly can.
I want them to be able to laugh and relax and have fun as fully as they possibly can.
But I also want them to be aware. To stay alert. To recognize.
It is vital to their safety.
And since I can't keep them home with me forever? And I must and have set them free....
It is also vital to the safety of whoever might try to bring them harm.
That's what I got today.
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