Victim I am Not

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Dear Readers,

Lately, I’ve been thinking that maybe I should rethink what it means to be a victim. Let me explain, once upon a time about 26 years, I escaped a violent marriage, and before that at the age of 18, I was abandoned by my son’s father. There was a time in my life I spent years experimenting with drugs and heavy drinking, but I got clean and sober. While I was going through years of therapy and the healing process, I was told by the professionals, that I was a victim of domestic volience, a victim of drug abuse and I was victimized by my son’s father, and all of these experiences resulted in me being a survivor.

So, each time I told my story I used the words victim or survivor. Recently, I began to think about what being a victim means to me. I admit that I did survive all of the previous mentioned experiences and not only did I survive, but I thrived, and learned valuable lessons from each experience, no matter how painful and that’s putting it nicely. But the knowledge made me stronger, and helped me to mature into a emotionally balanced person.

I don’t want to think of myself as a victim or survivor, but a conqueror. I admit that there were times in my life when I felt so low and broken that I didn’t think I could ever make a come back. I did more than make a come back, I soared past the limitations that was placed on me.

Unlike the individuals who consider themselves victims or survivors, I do not carry battle scares and my wounds have healed years ago. I stop volunteering to speak about the years of mental, verbal, and emotional abuse by my Ex. And, I am happy to report that my son has matured into am amazing man of valor. Lately, I dare not go back to abusing myself with alcohol because I like being sober.

I once was a victim, but I survived, thrived, overcame, and conquered. We should be careful when labeling individuals a victim. If people continue to hear the word victim, they may never understand that beginning a victim isn’t forever, and that being a survivor means they want to be a conqueror, and not relive what made them a victim.

Thank you for stopping by dragthepen

The Rotting Soul

Dear Readers, 

Your past pain is an enemy, and when people say that they are suffering from a broken heart, I say, it is their spirit, soul and will that’s been broken and betrayed. My story is that  I spent years soaking in the pain of my past. I waited in anger for the people who hurt me to come back to me and acknowledge the physically, emotionally and mentally pain they caused me, I wanted my pain to be validated, so I proudly displayed my banner publicly announcing that I was a VICTIM, who have been mistreated, abused, neglected and I was wounded. I used my pain as an  excuse for my anger, hatred and bitterness. I lived my life  putting up walls, hurting others, and lashing out towards anyone who would not acknowledge my pain. My heart was cold, closed and hardened. I was blinded by misinformation, mixed messages, and confused emotions. While I was quickly disintegrating into my self imposed HELL. during this period of my life it never occurred to me to stop and reflect on the fact that I did not have the experience to detect and discern when people have bad intentions. 

 

I was not taught self-worth and self-respect meant, so my level of thinking was that of a naive child that is very trusting because children  don’t know evil, malice, and wrong doing until it is introduced to them. Another factor that led to me basking in my position as a VICTIM, I surrounded myself with people who supported my moaning and groaning of how I’ve been wronged. I lived in this pit of darkness from 1996-2006 just to give you an idea of how long I wallowed in my grief.  

How I began the long, long road to healing was people stopped listening to me rant. One by one person was dropping out of my life, and this increased my anger because the people who I thought understood my pain were busy on their path to healing. I didn’t want to heal, to me healing meant forgiving the people who hurt me. In my mind forgiveness means that they were off the hook, and they won’t be punished for the crimes committed against me. Over time  I slowly began to realize that the only person that I was hindering and harming was me. I was stuck mentally and emotionally, I wasn’t living. I arrived at the point that I wanted the self imposed drama to end. I had worked diligently to immerse myself deep into my misery, and little did I know I would have to put forth tireless effort to learn  how to process my pain in a positive manner. I utilize many support services secular and spiritual, I am not ashamed to say I spent 8 years in therapy learning to love and value myself. This eight year process included one year of art therapy, anger management, and one year of group and individual therapy.  

My journey towards healing and reclaiming my life lead me back to a painful childhood, the horrible events of adolescence that lead to poor choices as an adult. I learned that something  good was going to come from my pain. Looking back I had no idea that this healing process would profoundly change my life. I was molded into a completely new person. Through all the therapy sessions, tears, rage, unveiling and reliving the events of my past, it was worth the pages and pages of journals, and the times I dropped to my needs hunched over in pain purging myself of the anger that I allowed to ROT my soul, kill my spirit,  darken my heart, and block my blessings.  

From those years pain and healing I brought forth two novels about my journey walking towards a better life. I learned how to trust people, to have an open mind, and guard my naive heart. I developed into a mentor, motivational coach, writer and creator of the blog Dragthepen and the YouTube channel Conversations with J. R. Floyd. The more I share my story, counsel and coach others the better I become at listening with a non judgmental ear. I learned how to recognize true friendship, and what it means to be supportive, compassionate, and to show acts of kindness to others who have been broken.  It doesn’t matter the cause of your pain or past trauma, seeking help does not allow the past to lead you down a dark road of destruction of anger and loneliness. 

Thank you for stopping by Dragthepen.

THE TERROR OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

This article is in honor of the women who came before me and the ones after me.

            I had blinders on. I wasn’t blinded by love just pure ignorance. My mother never whispered words of warning about the “wolves in sheep’s clothing”, nor did I see the “proceed with caution sign”. I describe my experience with domestic violence, as being in the Twilight Zone, during that period of time nothing seemed real, it felt like it was staged. Although my wounds have healed, my heart is mended and my spirit restored; I think about the women who did not make it out and are still knee deep in the grips of the terror of domestic violence. My story is one of hope, desire and rebirth.

 

The Face in My Mirror

A Self Portrait

 I woke up that morning as I did every morning, feeling like I had been drinking all night. My head was heavy and my mouth was dry. The bedroom was dark the blinds were closed and the drapes drawn. This atmosphere reflected my spirit. I carried myself to the bathroom as though I was a fat lady who weighed a thousand pounds. What was usually a short trip from my bedroom to the bathroom turned into an endless journey. Each step that I took towards my destination moved further and further away. When I reached the bathroom the cold tile sent chills up my spine. I was not aware that I had no slippers on my feet. I closed my eyes before turning on the light, a ritual that I performed every day.

I stood for a moment slowly opening my eyes to let the light in. I stared at myself in the mirror, searching for signs of life but there was only emptiness. I could no longer force a smile or even wash away the sadness that soured my soul. For year, I had worn a mask in public to hide the sadness I kept in my heart.

I glanced over at my dressing table where I sat to apply my make-up, just as a clown would sit down to his dressing table to paint the face that entertained the guests who have come to see the show. I thought to myself, not today, no more hiding, no more pretending.

I had to make a choice to come face to face with the truth about how corrupt I was living. At that moment, I began to feel an instant wave of relief wash over me. I made a long awaited decision, no more masquerade.

It was December 1, 1994, the day I hit rock bottom.

It also was the best day of my life.

It has been years … Since I decided not to dance with the devil anymore…I decided to face my fears, open my closet and let out all the skeletons, no more secrets.

What I did not know then. I know now.

“Divine time and order”. There were lessons to learn even though some of them came with a price.

It was 1988, I met a quiet, charming, handsome man who was drug free, hardworking and attracted to me. He said that he “wanted me to be his wife and mother of his children”. I said, “Yes” and good-bye to “Ms. Party Girl”, I led a clean life by stopping the drinking, and drugging and I settled into married life.

After setting into the role of “Mrs. Homemaker” not long after I found myself in an abusive situation. My husband turned from prince charming into a MONSTER. All my dreams of a happy forever after came crashing down, and I returned to booze and drugs for the next four years. I was desperate to hold on to what I thought was my only chance at a happy life.

On December 1, 1994, when I stood in that bathroom looking at myself in the mirror, I saw someone that I know did not recognize.   I no longer desired to be a victim anymore. My first step on the road to well-being and enlightenment was to free myself from a relationship that only aided in me falling into a deep depression and lowering my self-esteem.

Once I accomplished securing my freedom I relocated and the real work began. I entered into the world of therapy, seeking to find out why my life had turned out the way it did. I honestly felt that all the trouble was due to me choosing men who were all wrong for me.

Seven sessions into therapy, I discovered that at the core of my problems was that I never experienced a true caring, loving and trusting relationship. Not even with my parents. After years of therapy and a lot of soul searching, I learned to love myself, accept myself, and to make peace with my past. I have learned the art of true forgiveness, unconditional love and acceptance.

My choices don’t make me a good or bad person, it’s what I do about the choices I make. I look to “ME” for happiness and rejoice in the happiness that others bring into my life. Now my life is filled with much joy and peace. To this end I have a very important message to share from Maya Angelou, she said “Once you heal yourself, help to heal others one person at a time”.

 An excerpt from The Original Article “The face in My Mirror” Street News