About This Blog

My blog shares my recovery journey from childhood abuse to living with mental illness. I've been involved in twelve step groups and therapy since 1982. I accepted Jesus as my Savior in 1988. To the best of my ability, I have followed where He wants me to go and what He wants me to do. Maybe you'll find the hope and strength you need through what I write. Maybe you want to stop hurting yourself. Maybe you have a friend who needs help and can benefit from my story. I was newly disabled when I asked God this question: "What do you want me to do with my life?" I closed my eyes and paused for a few moments to still my mind. This is what I sensed from Him: "Amy, I want you to write your story to bring hope and healing to those who are still suffering." And that's exactly what I am doing!

Monday, January 25, 2016

Messed Up Again

I woke up this morning
In rhythm and rhyme
I knew this process will continue
The only question is how much time?

Please don't doubt my love for God
Or His gift I received for eternity up above.
It's just that these memories are now in full swing
And they must run their course just like everything.

It's not as easy as, "Don't let them control your mind,"
Or, "Give them to God to heal and to bind."
If you've never been multiply abused
And abandoned by your parents,
You cannot know how I feel.
You are limited in your comments.

People like me find survival techniques to help us get through.
Sometimes it includes others, it might even include you.
But be it as it may, there's one part that's true:
My life will be upside down, not ended, just blue.

Abuse serves no purpose for the one being abused.
That's why people go to jail when they hurt a child and bruise.
Sexual abuse is "worse" for the abuser at least they get on a list.
These people can abuse again for no needle goes through their chest.

I had six sexual abusers and I don't say that with pride.
That's why I get messed up, that's why I crawl inside.
My feelings about the abuse have been neatly tucked away.
I have to turn them off because a lot of them are strays.

I love God with all my heart yet my feeble eyes only see,
The abuse he allowed to have happen to my family and me.
I was the protector, I picked fights to protect my siblings,
I guess that's why I am the hero, although I feel like nothing.