I grew up at 50 in Therapy.

Until I began therapy and parented the abused, neglected and abandoned little girl in me I was stuck playing victim.  It was truly the only role I knew how to play.  The only coping skills I actually had were the ones I had when I was raped at five.  I would hear people say to me all the time, “stop playing the victim”.  Until I worked hard to process those feelings and to unlearn bad coping skills I was doomed to behaving immaturely. After therapy I have an understanding of self that empowers me to change.

Group Therapy

it is, has been and always will be the words that save us, all of us, any of us can be affected by words we speak and the ones spoken to us I love them so much with out the words we would not be able to create new realities for ourselves all of us are essentially the sum total of words we have thought, spoken, written or heard and seen   I heard some words on Sunday that changed my whole perspective it had a ripple affect I called my mother and our words helped us heal and reconnect, but that phone call was the result of many words along this journey to healing words have taught me about myself and the world around me words have shown me where the pathology is rooted words have given me solutions and testimonies of others words have inspired courage to continue working on healing even when the words were to traumatizing

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In The Arms Of My Angel

I don’t care what anybody ever tells you. it is the human touch that heals the soul it is the yearning and craving of touch that causes us to seek a crutch I don’t know about you but honestly I have those days when no matter the waves of sunshine brought by compliments of others it is still for me and always will be the arms of someone who loves me willing to hold until my tears bring relief as I struggle to be whole I’m not there yet and I can’t afford to give away my goodness before I know if you are the one that will hold me as I repair my soul please my sweet angel come hold me so my soul can fly higher 9.24.13 mozayik “the souls’ poet” Healing is a process and I have stopped forcing the memories back into my subconscious.  I am optimistic about my healing, but the truth of it is. 

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A letter to survivors (originally posted 4/2014)

If you had told me that I would I be living this free two years ago, I would not have believed you. Two years ago, events happened that triggered my healing. I have post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD is a result of surviving childhood sexual abuse, abandonment, neglect, and rape before the age of five. Five is the age of the first rape memory at the hands of my mothers’ boyfriend. Writing saved my life. Words were my saviors. This is why I am compelled to tell my story. I do not tell it to gain pity or fame. I tell it because I was born to tell it. So I tell. Everywhere I go I tell. I want to tell my story of PTSD because most of us do not know what that looks like on an African American girl or woman. The number is many but until we start talking about it, most will suffer in silence, and ignorance.

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I am Happy

Most of childhood was hidden from me in the recesses of my mind, waiting on my soul’s readiness to heal from rape.  Only now as I stay committed to therapy by any means necessary are the good memories starting to surface after excavating through the dirty images my mind knew I was not ready to see. It is not coincidental that my mind, body, and soul have chosen this time for my healing.  School has always been my hiding place.  My sanctuary is my mind.  As a child at eight, I remember walking alone to the library to check out books because I could hide in them.  By the time I was nine I had read the entire Child-craft Collection of 24 books cover to cover. Safety was found in the worlds I could transcend to with my book.  Words were my toys.  I could use them to create whatever reality I chose. I am finding solace in my schoolbooks

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ample example

how do your grieve without being sad when your tears are all you have the people who say they love you have suffered long their limit is full healing the mind and repairing the soul take a lot of tears and screams from your soul i can only give you my example for you it may not be ample but this is my journey and this how i have chosen to purge my psyche and make whole my soul by mozayik “the souls’ poet” I was feeling kind of sad today for many reasons and beating up on myself about this down mood.  I have committed to healing from my childhood trauma so I can’t expect it not to hurt.  My best friend told me today that anybody would be angry about what happened. This all came up while trying to complete my homework given to me by my therapist.  I am to write about one incident of rape.  I

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ramble #1011

Today is one of those days where madness comes to taunt me saying “it is too hard, too heavy, not enough of whatever is needed. You just do not have it and although you are giving your best, your best is not enough. I have been spending a lot of effort to not think about the trauma and the apathy of the adults around me, some of them had to have known. I am giving my best today. I am deciding to not take it personal. I will not assume. I will be impeccable with my words to myself. I realize that the words I use to deflate and destroy my positive energy can be replaced with words that inflate and build or repair my positive energy or my soul or my highest good or my renewing of my mind, or my positive affirmations’, or whatever you want to call telling the past to go the hell back where it

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Emotional Boundaries? Girl,I am doing my work!

It has been a while since my last post. I have been putting my mental and physical health first. I seek to be whole. I am ready for truth. I await my teachers. Bring me my answers, show me how to go in and bring out the gift. This is my prayer. I have been reflecting because my homework from my therapist is for me to look at my emotional and physical boundaries. All of my relationships with men and women have been abusive in some way, except for maybe two, and those two people are still a part of my life. I am asking myself some hard questions lately. Why do I partner with abusive people? Why do I partner with people who need me to take care of them? I am seeing the patterns. I am committed to taking the time and energy to do what is necessary to change my thinking so I make better choices. My

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