Free Form Writing - Things Unsaid.

(From an old Shelter group memory.)

"Stick and stone may break my bones, but words can never hurt me."

Bullshit.

Stick and stones heal, words take a whole hell of a lot longer. They're "pretty like a butterfly, but sting like a bee." (Ali) The only thing worse is not what is said, but what is unsaid.

What we think about ourselves, what we perceive others think about us. They all have lasting effects on us.

Last night I had to share my story. I had to recount a memory to my group and explain my thoughts and feelings about it. Was it the worse memory I own? No, though I'm not sure which one is, however, it was my most hated, most shameful, most raw memory.

Why did I speak of it? Because it has always been unsaid. I have never been able to talk about it, to get it out of my system so to speak. It had grown into this huge tidal wave of shame and guilt deep inside me, and once spoken it spilled over in a flood. The water, the pain, is still standing, but it is no longer overwhelming and my head is still above water so far.

But back to my point.

All the ladies were quiet, their unspoken words tore at me. I began to panic, sure that they were trying to decided whether to reject what I had just told them as truth, or not. My heart was sinking fast.

The leader looked at me and asked me what I was feeling. Could she not see it on my face? Scared, shaky, scattered, panicked, but overall just an overwhelming despair I told her. At their silence I rambled on.

I'm frustrated and angry that nothing ever happened to him and now never could. And I am almost tremendously depressed for girls I don't even know. I know the shit I had to go through and I despair that there are other victims of his that are suffering with this. Then suddenly one of the girls started crying.

She cried for me.

Her unspoken words suddenly became clear. She cared about me, she cared and didn't think I deserved any of that. My throat closed up. One of the other ladies spoke up.

Do you realize what you just said? You are sitting their crying your eyes out for girls you don't' even know, but not for yourself. You honestly don't believe you're worth the tears.

Something clicked.

She was right.

How many times have I sat on that oversized brown couch, recounting my experience and feelings and degrading myself? How many times has the counselor stopped me to point out I had called myself a bitch or slut more than three times in one breath, without even realizing it?

All the memories I had written in my journal screamed at me. Every moment I believed I wasn't worth anything seemed to stand out in my scrawling chicken scratch. People can say your worth it all day long, but when you have been this deeply brainwashed it doesn't make a huge impact. Your unspoken words overrule all else.

And for once I cried.

I cried that this sad little girl sitting here telling her story truly believed this.

Maybe it means I'm learning I am worth it. Maybe it means I realized I was wrong about myself. Maybe it means I'm healing, who knows.

The ladies finally told me they were so quiet because they were furious and distraught for me and honestly didn't know what to say, or do with it. They had to ride it out and then let it go. Hearing them voice that truly helped me. At least I knew they cared then.

To be honest right now I don't even know what to do with this new information about myself. It's combating things I have known and believed all my life. So honestly I've shut down a bit. I'm taking a mental break, letting this new idea sink in and hopefully get through my thick skull this time. We'll see.

I supposed my whole point to this rant is don't leave things unsaid; it's more damaging that healing for people. Just be smart about what you say, that's all.

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Free Form Writing - More Than Ordinary Significance...

"The quality or expression of what is beautiful or appealing or of more than ordinary significance."

This is how the dictionary defines art.

I tell you it defines something else.

Something that can be expressed through art, something that can be felt through art, but not something that can be lived through art. What is it?

I'm not sure there is even a word to describe it.

It's a human struggle, a human sacrifice, human love.

It is something definitely "more than ordinary significance."

What is ordinary? Something not special, something plain and common placed in our everyday hum-drum world.

If you talk about people in general you tend to think of something "ordinary."

But they're not, not really.

If you really look at a person you can see more. Study the lines on their face, the depth of their eyes, listen to what their body language tells you, hear their voices and live their stories.

By definition, a person can be a work of art.

So what separates the ordinary, from the extraordinary?

Look at their heart and you will see.

If you cannot then you are blind to true art.

"The eyes are blind to what the mind cannot see."

Don't be blind.

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Free Form Writing - The Cost of a Million Dollar Smile

Tonight I wanna talk about a girl, a small girl about ten years old. A girl who was relatively normal in all aspects.

She enjoyed playing Barbie's, having her fairy tale Prince Ken save the Barbie from the evil Wizard Something or Another. She enjoyed playing tag with her friend and sing along with the radio, the louder the better she sounded. She enjoyed dancing with her Daddy in the kitchen and helping her grandma bake the occasional batch of cookies. She liked to draw, though she wasn't very good at it, the fridge overflowed with pictures of flowers, dogs, and stick figures. She liked to pretend she actually knew what Bill Nye the Science guy was talking about on TV, and then repeat it all to her mother.

Overall a normal 10 year old.

She was getting to ready to enter Middle School for the first time when all that changed. She suddenly hated Barbie's, though she kept them anyways for a long while. When someone tagged her it made her scream in panic and she no longer had a voice to sing with, it was closed up tight trying not to cry. She could no longer hold hands with her Daddy to dance and why bake cookies if they held no flavor? She still drew pictures, but sad pictures now. Things like broken teddy bears and shadow men instead of stick figures. She no longer watch TV at all and she never talked to her mother anymore.

The little girl simply faded, faded away in every sense of the word. If she was invisible she was safe. If she didn't feel anything then he couldn't find her. She was a ghost in her own head.

What had happened to the little girl?

A sad, sad thing.

A terrible thing.

She had to grow up to fast in to short of a time period. And she didn't know how to deal with it.

A guy came and destroyed the little girl. Built her up and broke her down; left her crying on the ground and laughed in her face. Why? Why not. She was happy and he was sad. He wanted to make her as sad and hurt as he felt inside and she was an easy target. The more pain he caused her the more pleasure he gained. He vented all his anger out on her, all his sadness, all the pain he felt and she took it all.

On her tiny shoulder of only ten she took it and soaked it into her skin unable to contain it all in just her hands. She never had a choice. You name it he did it.

Menatlly.

Emotionally.

Physically.

Sexually.

You name it, he did it and he laughed at her.

And she suffered.

Suffered so much she lost herself.

Lost herself inside her head trying too hard to stay alive.

For two years she disappeared.

Disappeared into nothingness.

Slowly she stumbled upon a part of herself. A song she used to sing long ago. She barely remembered the words, but slowly she rebuilt herself around it until she could once again return into the world. She was fragile and very empty, but she was steadily rebuilding herself.

After a while she had used up her roll of tape and she ventured back out into society. But all was no won yet.

He came by to see her often.

Sometimes she could hide and he wouldn't find her, sometimes she couldn't.

For years he visited her and she would retreat inside herself, inside where it was safe. Eventually she found words to tell someone something was wrong, very wrong and had been for a very long time. They took her hand and promised to help her if they could. Suddenly her shoulders seemed lighter.

But they lied. They never helped her. They thought they were, but in all reality they were only making it worse. For a long time she still could not sing, but slowly she began to grow. Her ten year old shoulder had grown bigger, wider, stronger. It was becoming easier to carry around with her all she had to bear.

She found more songs she'd lost and her pictures occasionally added a flower now and then, maybe a heart if she was having a good day. She threw away her Barbie's, knowing that there was no such thing as a fairy tale prince. She occasionally plays tag once in a while and no longer screams. Her voice is coming back slowly out of years of not being used. She's relearning how to dance and she can make the best cookies her grandma ever tasted. She actually understand what Bill Nye was talking about now, and explains the more complicated experiments to her mother.

She still cries ever now and then and once in a while her hands shake, but if you can ignore that you'd see the most beautiful smile in the entire world. Her smile is broken, but not lost and never will be again. The boy that hurt he is still out there, but she now has something she didn't have at 10. She has friends, friends who would stand up for her if she couldn't.

If you see her you'll know, for in her eyes lies all the sadness of the world, but hidden behind a million dollar smile.

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Free Form Writing - Only Human

What does it mean to be human?

One of the definitions from Dictionary.com describes a human as;

"Subject to or indicative of the weaknesses, imperfections, and fragility associated with humans: a mistake that shows he's only human; human frailty."

Are we weak? Yes.

We hold impulsiveness, selfishness, compassion, empathy, sympathy, care, and love within us.

Are we imperfect? Yes.

We don't always do what is right, or best for us, bases off of emotion.

Are we fragile? Undecided.

We are easily killed, hurt, or maimed; we are easily destroyed from the inside out, but we still remain standing. Does this make us fragile?

Weak?

I can't decide.

For me I know my flaws, and I'm imperfect in the fact I'm not sure how, or even if I want to fix them.

I am scared often.

Of my abuser, fear he will return. Fear that if there is ever a next time I will not be able to escape anymore. Fear that if there is ever a next time I won't recover.

Of my father, fear of his instability. Fear that my life will forever be in man-made chaos and stress due to him. Fear of forgetting him, and what he was truly like.

Of failing, fear that I can't make it on my own after all. Fear that everything I've been told is true, that I am not mature enough, not wise enough, and not able to care for myself on my own. Fear of being proven wrong.

Of slipping so deep I can't get out. Fear that one day my depression I constantly fight will over take me and there will be no one to tell it its wrong anymore. Fear of losing the battle.

Of rejection from those I am close to. Fear of not being the person they need me to be. Fear of losing "that" person, again.

Of abandonment from those I love. Fear of finally pushing them so far they give up on me and walk away. Fear of being left alone, again.

Of bugs of all kinds, minus a butterfly or a rolly-polly. Fear of experiences with poisonous bugs. Fear of pissing off the wrong one and dying.

Of heights higher than me. Fear of falling to my death, and fear of one day embracing the negative part of me that whispers that wouldn't be so bad. Fear of flying.

Of love in the relationship context. Fear of being that vulnerable with someone. Fear of giving them enough to break you later with. Fear of trusting again.

Of sex in all context. Fear of being re-raped, hurt, or any of the aftermath like pregnancy. Fear of being used.

Of pregnancy. Fear of having to forever care for a child that might have been made from someone I loathed. Fear of regret, and hating an innocent.

Of feeling anything emotionally for anyone, even for myself. Fear of breaking my rules and feeling something so deep it must be expressed and when it does it is used against you. Fear of vulnerability.

Of embracing myself inside and out. Fear that I am in fact loving something not worth the time and effort. Fear of being the worthless being I have been told I am.

But for all these fears, there is at least one thing that can dissolve these fears in a heartbeat.

I'm still here.

I'm still standing, still breathing, still loving.

I am human for all my faults, but they do not merely make me weak and fragile, but strong and beautiful.

Maybe that is the allure of the humans. To be everything and nothing at all.

To be passionate, yet aloof.

To be wise, yet naïve.

To be strong, yet weak.

To be sturdy of heart and soul, yet weak of body.

To be firm, yet gentle.

To be emotional, yet rational.

To be imperfect, yet personify perfection.

Too long for love, yet fear receiving it.

To feel powerless, yet be powerful.

To be useless, yet useful.

To be faithless, yet have faith.

To be Human is an oxymoron in itself.

I think that's the best part.

We are a predictable is almost every way, yet we remain an eternal mystery.

To have this make total sense, and yet not at the same time?

Well forgive me,

I'm only Human.

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In Memory of Jonah Blackwell

In Memory of Jonah Blackwell

Today’s blog is very personal. Today I write about a good friend and coworker of mine, Jonah Blackwell. On October 16, 2012 Jonah was found dead in a park in Carrollton, Texas. He committed suicide at about 3:30-4 pm in the afternoon, on a Tuesday. It came as a complete shock to everyone that knew him.

Jonah was a very happy, caring individual. He never once asked for help and faced every problem with a smile. He was a hard worker and did the task that others loathed, without a single word. Jonah could have easily had any manager position, or any girl he wanted, he was a very charismatic and caring individual. If you went to his Facebook page, it’s just overwhelming the number of people that he touched in his life. The stories, the phrases, the memories shared, it’s just amazingly painful to know that we can now not add anymore to that.

As a R.I.S.E. member I feel frustration that help stared at him every day in the face and he never asked for it. As a coworker I feel like a dark cloud hangs over our job, like his memory still echo’s there. But most importantly as a friend I feel hurt, loss, and anger. Anger he never reached out to me, loss because he was a good kid, and hurt that I didn’t reach out more to him. We all feel like we truly let him down that he felt he needed to leave everything behind. My husband, a fellow friend and coworker of his as well just faces anger. Anger because despite everything going on in his life he was so young, only 18, and had so much going for him; he was just “a goddamn good kid.”

In hindsight there were always signs. Odd conversations that ended in a lot of “I love you’s/never forget that.” Random conversations about a personal life that sucked. He hinted at physical/verbal abuse he suffered at home, constantly being kicked out, and relationship turmoil. Despite all that he always seemed to have a plan and have everything under control that we never thought twice about it. In a way, we were too wrapped up in our own lives and we did fail him. And for that I am sorry Jonah, I did fail you.

At work it was all we could talk about. Everyone hung on day to day by string, ready to break at even the whispering of his name. It’s very ironic to be in guest services, trying to be cheerful for people and kids on their vacation, but to secretly be crumbling inside. Our managers really stepped up and offered as much time, help, and talking they could for us. Even offering us to talk to a grief counselor if needed. For once, we were all able to pull together as a sort of family in our time of need.

At his memorial service it was very hard, but beautiful. The church was packed with friends, family, coworkers and schoolmates. There were 50 people from work alone including almost all our managers and supervisors. I couldn't even being to guess how many total were there, at least 300 people. Everyone from our department wore something orange, his favorite color. Even now at work, those closest to him continue to wear an orange ribbon on our shirts.

Jonah always, no matter what took the time to listen to your burdens. I honestly feel that he didn't want to add to those burdens. I believe he was either scared, or ashamed that he couldn't handle this on his own, like he thought he could. Please, I beg you all reach out, go to counseling, get help. People are more willing to listen then you might realize and the hurt you leave behind is so much greater then you can imagine.

His family did take the time to share this letter publicly on his Facebook page:

An open letter from the Blackwell family... 

Exactly one week ago today our son Jonah took his own life. We've endured the initial shock and the overwhelming sadness with the help of our faith in God, our family, our friends and the good people of the Coppell community. We take comfort in knowing that Jonah is with God in Heaven and that we'll see him again one day. This week we've learned of the incredible impact Jonah had, and continues to have, on those around him. We thank you for the stories you have shared with us - and are proud and thankful for his time here on earth.  

While we continue our journey through the grieving process, we have been unimaginably blessed with the support of the Coppell Band, Cross Country Team, Silver Spurs, Football Team, CHS and CISD Administration, Great Wolf Lodge, Valley Ranch Baptist Church, the Coppell community, our neighboring communities, as well as comforting words and uplifting prayers from strangers across many states. This support has, and continues to be, an inspiration that has filled our hearts with humble gratitude. We can't begin to find words to thank everyone! 

Suicide is heartbreaking for so many people beyond the immediate family and often people do not know what to say or do. We have learned of a local chapter of (AFSP) American Foundation for Suicide Prevention that provides suicide prevention education as well as resources for healing when there is a loss. This website has a Surviving Suicide Loss Booklet that can be downloaded: http://www.afsp.org/ Additionally, there is mention of the “Out of the Darkness Walk” that will take place on November 10, in Dallas.http://afsp.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.event&eventID=1796
Nothing will bring Jonah back to us physically; however we can hope and pray that this tragedy will make an impact and change others’ lives for the better. Jonah would want us to help one another. We want to honor Jonah’s memory as we find our way to walk the path that lies ahead. Our prayers also continue to be lifted up for the Logan family. Stay Strong Coppell. 

Sincerely,
Greg, Caroline, Clint and Gracie Blackwell

My thoughts and prayers go out to Jonah’s coworkers, his siblings, and friends. This much I can promise, R.I.S.E. will not forget Jonah Blackwell.

For new articles:

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1-800-Suicide, 1-800-784-2433
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The New RISE Schedule:

RISE & SHINE Mondays: We will be uploading new pictures to the RISE & SHINE album on Mondays, do you can start the work week with a smile.

Inner Child Tuesdays: We will try to share things having to do with the inner child and innocence, as well as some discussions designed to bring out the child in all of us.

Survivor Wednesdays: We will try to share stories from our members, submissions, and things of that nature.

Therapy Thursdays: We will offer advice, link to other pages, and nurture and care for each other. We may also share stuff related to cutting and suicide.

Freedom Fridays: We will try to share ways to break free from the past, and stuff like that. 

Sharing Saturdays: This will be the only day we devote to spreading the word about RISE. We will post new banners and flyers, and ask you to share them if you want to. We may also promote other pages on Saturdays.

Healing Sundays: We will devote these days to uplifting survivors and promoting healing. We will also post healing techniques, and stuff like that. 

NOTE: This does not mean we are going to post only about these subjects on these days, and it does not necessarily mean we'll be posting more often. Also, if we have to skip a day or two, we will not "make it up" until the next week. This is just a guideline for us to maintain organization more than anything. We began this schedule on Inner Child Tuesday, August 7th, 2012. Hopefully we can keep it up! -Kylie (Founder)

Penn State Scandal - Coming Out About Abuse

If you’re like me you had never heard of Penn State before 2011, but thanks to a huge child sexual abuse case, now almost everyone knows the school. For those of us that need a recap, this is a summary of what happened accord to Wikipedia.

“Involved university football assistant coach Jerry Sandusky's sexual assault of at least eight underage boys on or near university property, and actions by some university officials to cover up the incidents or to enable more. Based on an extensive grand jury investigation, Sandusky was indicted in 2011 on 52 counts of child molestation dating from 1994 to 2009, though the abuse may have dated as far back as the 1970s. Per the findings of the grand jury, several high-level school officials were charged with perjury, suspended, or dismissed for covering up the incidents or failing to notify authorities. In the wake of the scandal, school president Graham Spanier was forced to resign, and head football coach Joe Paterno was fired late in the 2011–12 season, while Sandusky maintained his innocence.

The trial of Jerry Sandusky on 52 charges of sexual crimes against children started on June 11, 2012, at the Centre County Courthouse in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania. Four charges were subsequently dropped, leaving 48. On June 22, 2012, Sandusky was found guilty on 45 of 48 counts of sexual abuse. Sandusky faces a minimum sentence of 60 years — effectively a life sentence at his age.^”

This case is particularly important because it not only was a huge cover up, but it involved boys. Male rape and abuse is still considered a rare occurrence, so the fact you have so many guys coming out about what happened is extraordinary. They all suffered different levels of anal and oral sex, along with molestation and being forced to shower with said offered. I’d like to take a moment to offer my condolences and sincere gratitude to each and every guy that came out about what happened to them, not only for themselves, but for all the other boys that suffered at this man’s hands. I’m glad that such harsh charges have fallen on such deep betrayal of trust, and hope that others can gather more encouragement about coming forward in their own abuse cases.

In an episode of SVU they were trying to get a girl to come forward and testify about her rape. The girl torn between the issue listened to this simple piece of advice from the detective on her case. “I never met a victim that regretted testifying.” It’s a very powerful statement. Even though testifying is one of the hardest things a victim will face, not only in court, but out of it as well; in the end, I haven’t heard many, if any, cases where they regret their testimony. It’s a validation to what happened to you and even if your abuser gets off somehow you still not only told your story, but often give someone else who might have also suffered from the same abuser the courage to come forward, as was the case in this episode.The people that covered up the Penn State abuse didn’t get away scott free either.

“On July 23, 2012 the NCAA imposed sweeping penalties on Penn State--among the most severe ever imposed on an NCAA member school--including a fine of $60 million, a four-year postseason ban and vacating of all victories from 1998-2011. In doing so, NCAA President Mark Emmert stated that the sanctions were levied "not to be just punitive, but to make sure the university establishes an athletic culture and daily mindset in which football will never again be placed ahead of education, nurturing and protecting young people." The Big Ten Conference subsequently imposed an additional $13 million fine.”

I can only hope that the victims put through the ordeals of this trail and such a high profile case can to feel this relief about having this secret revealed. 

“As of July 2012, two other investigations are ongoing: a federal criminal probe by the local United States Attorney launched shortly after the discovery of Sandusky's crimes, and a separate probe from the Department of Education into whether Penn State responded to the incident properly and reported it in accordance with federal law.”

May you all gain the courage and empowering support that these men had to come forward and stop the cycle of abuse. For those of you that are still wrestling with this decision, here at R.I.S.E. we are all here for you and offer our support and advice the best we can. 

Info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penn_State_scandal

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