I often leave comments and afterwards notice that what I’ve said, I also need to hear. I munch on it throughout the day. That is the case thanks to Jessica at the Counter Stool. I pulled up a chair at her counter on a prettily colored woven stool and had a chat. And wouldn’t it be lovely if she lived right around the corner along with other friends I have met on-line.

Peeling layers off an onion, shedding skin like a snake, or other ways of digging deep, then letting go….? Onion layers cause tears and it often felt like that. My new outlook? Unwrapping extra candy wrappers to reach the goodness inside. Until I cradle all that I endured, I am not accepting myself and all that I have suffered and gone through.

Those are the places to honor, cherish, exult and rock with a gentleness from the core love of all mothers, now and through the ages. This child who suffered, struggled and survived, and fought through against horrendous traumas rocking her world then, and for years to come.

Yet she grew. I am here now. I have a right to admire all the qualities that kept me here. And there are many that went underground with the truth of what was survived. It is time to get to know those qualities, to shine a light in the dark and uncover the gems, gold, crystals, silver, diamonds, rubies, emeralds…so much more to uncover that hasn’t been mined. Because it had to be hidden with all the rest to protect ‘family.’

It wasn’t until I owned all that happened to me that I truly came into myself, not taking on the crimes of others, but that I did indeed suffer them. I had been running. There are many ways to run and who hasn’t chosen one at times. I don’t need to name them, too much or too little of just about anything could be running. Balance was just a word. Living a full, NORMAL life, where I counted and was as important as the next person, was a wish that never would come true.

And why would I want to remember and feel all that happened. I didn’t. It caught up with me, I couldn’t run fast enough. All the years in therapy were not about my childhood, but rather making my life work at the time; career, kids, marriage, friends, all the day to day stuff. I needed it to manage and survive…yes survive. Being critically injured, and repeatedly, carrying all that black blood inside, only rotted, never healing. Healing was also just a word.

Healing is a journey not a finished product.  

A very large cavern existed inside, unexplored, unwelcome, empty. The soul of me. I existed as an empty shell, doing, acting as if, pasting a smile on in all the right places or trying to. Not until I went there, to all the scary places and felt what I felt wholly, completely, not until then did a smile become a real one.

I carried a sadness for a long time after that for I had lost much and had much to grieve. And that was OK, because I felt authentic for the very first time. The dirt and grime I waded through was not mine, was not me.

As I felt what had been packed away, each betrayal, each body memory of revulsion, every moment that had branded on my memory but had never spoken and instead swallowed, was finally expressed, then shared with another human being. As the chapters came up along with the tears, I began to feel lighter. I began to appreciate all that I had suffered, and a new appreciation grew of a woman whose strength was there right on the pages along with her tears.

I am not what happened to me. Yet I am. By disregarding huge portions of myself, those parts that survived what was not survivable, I reject the very best in me that fought to survive and won.

I went deep a layer at a time, layer upon layer of defenses, ways to run, each layer a candy wrapper of ingenuity, a wrapper brilliant at survival to take pride in for its protection when it was needed. I unwrapped as I could when the time was right, instinctively, not forced, as if time had unfolded the contents, not me.

I am liking what I find at the center.  


25 thoughts on “CANDY WRAPPERS

  1. I loved taking time to read all of these words slowly. It is a precious gift being able to read and feel the on goings healing of a precious Soul. Thank you for giving me this pleasure. I wish you well in your journey and look forward to more. Stephen 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You just keep making me cry today, Patricia. In a good way and I thank you. I love all of what you’re saying but it’s this piece that I had forgotten about:

    “By disregarding huge portions of myself, those parts that survived what was not survivable, I reject the very best in me that fought to survive and won.”

    I forget to celebrate the remarkable me who helped me survive! What an important, critical part of the healing process. If I disown the abuse, I am also discrediting the warrior in me. Its seems like such a simple concept but honestly, I never saw it or thought of it. To take it further — if I continue to lean in to self-loathing, I am truly taking away from and diminishing all of my strength and courage and the true magnitude of how unbelievable it is that I did survive. I was disowning the survivor in me because to me it meant owning that I had been abused and there is so much grief in that — but if I can look at it like this and feel triumphant then there is so much room to feel lighter and free. I feel like you turned the lights on. Much love to you.

    And I love that you pulled up chair! How lovely would that be? I often wish I could stroll arm-in-arm in your meadow with you. Laughing, crying and taking pictures with your “crappy little camera!” XO

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Oh, now you have me chuckling out loud, laughing really…and I feel as if you have hooked your arm in mine as we meander the meadow. Let’s go again soon… : )
      It is good to turn on the lights after so much dark-good, hmm, joyful-

      Liked by 1 person

          1. I’m just going to keep this in my pocket today. Close to my heart. Thank you. You have truly cracked open a part of my brain and caused a shift in thinking. I’m so grateful for you and this gift. I was afraid to identify myself as a survivor because there is I just saw so much pain in that. To me I saw the brokenness and the grief, but I was undermining what the word really means — Strength. Courage. Power. Hope. And more. So much more. Thank you for being a part of my journey.

            Liked by 1 person

          2. Well, it’s not a club one would wish to belong to…But big YES’s to “Strength. Courage. Power. Hope. And more. So much more.”
            I’ll be by again to visit. Would you make that special coffee you and your husband like? Turkish?

            Liked by 1 person

  3. This blog is fantastic. 🙂 I also, like you , spent so much therapy time, dealing with present issues….”My Mum” ..My Husband ,parenting issues. It’s sad that so much time was wasted as we couldn’t deal with everything as one should be able to, with out the added Trauma impacts. I


    1. I wasn’t ready to deal with details with another human being or myself.
      That took a long time, not until after my Mom died 6 years ago, her 91, me 56.
      Then the lid unlocked. All on my own, at my own pace, in a comfortable chair every morning with a cup of coffee or two, and my cat purring at my side.
      I couldn’t wait for each morning and what it would bring. I welcomed all of it up as it came, the joyful along with the pain… It was safe-finally.
      And there was a lot of pain, no censor to protect her or anyone else.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you so much for sharing that me. I know I have a long way to go.
        It sounds to me like, with pain there was gain.
        A cat purring beside you perfect I love your cat I love cats lol

        Liked by 1 person

    2. Me too! Years of going to therapy to deal with job stress, with my son’s autism, and with a vague feeling of being “disconnected.” But maybe while I was dealing with all of that, building my career and raising my children, maybe I just didn’t have the time or mental space to heal from childhood sexual abuse. And now I do.My therapist

      Liked by 2 people

        1. Oh definitely. No regrets. Though sometimes I resented needing help with day to day stuff, while others didn’t need to bother. Over time I see how it has benefited me in many ways.
          Plowing through the day to day stuff without support would not have been possible for me without that kind of support. I regret nothing, and am grateful for my powering spirit which made me grab on and hold on, even through some pretty bad therapists.
          I am proud of all the years I devoted to therapy; time, money, and effort. It was an hour to city each way. They helped me accomplish so much.
          I feel great admiration for those that reach out for help to improve their lives, as I do you.

          Liked by 2 people

    1. It’s kind of fun… : ) Quite a marvel…striking gold. Feels good…It’s nice to feel good for a change, not carry the weight of the world, (or family), to say, “No, don’t make it your own, don’t make it your fault.”
      Such freedom in that, and the inklings of joy, also once just a word, becoming a feeling.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s