Poem: What if I told you…

What if I told you that everything in your heart
Was going to be pulled completely apart?

Every smile that is shared
Is another ‘hit’ to be bared

You decided to dim your light
Because you were tired of the fight

Every way you turn
Something started to burn

You protect your friendships with something fierce
Only hoping the dysfunction doesn’t pierce

The weight of your world seems so rough
Remind yourself that it’s YOU, that is TOUGH

Excuses are made to belittle your worth
But did they know, it’s time for your [re]birth?

So I say it once again
What if I told you…

That everything  in your heart
Is going to be pulled completely apart.

Love is a decision, not an emotion.

I’ll be the first one to admit most of my conversations are with myself. Sometimes others are present to plant a few seeds and other times, it’s quite simply an exchange between my head and my heart. Sometimes the conversations are via the blog; Sometimes the conversations are getting lost in Jess World; and when my head is in need of some knowledge, the conversations are with other people.

My heart is heavy. My head is all over the place. Last night they [head/heart] were somewhat at peace. Last night, I made a conscious effort to talk about anything except my family situation. I failed. It was a safe place though. A number of people that are kind despite their inner demons and a VERY important exchange with another survivor. I honestly think that survivors can spot one another from a mile away. Each person helping others by sharing their story.

One of the difficulties of being an empath is the desire to help others. One of the difficulties of being a survivor is the desire to heal. One of the benefits of being an empath survivor is once your juju is all cleared out, you are able to tell the difference between the people that want to help vs the people that want to cause harm.

“I’m so sorry that you had to endure that. I admire your strength and I hope to be at peace like you at some point.”

I recently said this to a kindred soul. She wanted to talk about her situation and my soul welcomed the exchange with open arms. Absolute open arms. Her sharing was powerful in so many ways. Raw. Reflective. Real. She asked me a few times why I am still physically in the situation that I’m in. “Why haven’t you left yet?” was a repeated question to me.

(deep breath)

I believe with all my heart that love is a choice. It’s not an emotion but it’s a choice. Each person wakes up in the morning with the power to decide on whether or not they are going to love someone. Love is a choice. My current location is with someone that I love. Deeply. My patience is simply because my heart refuses to acknowledge that this person is hurting me. The tidbits that I shared, the others gave me a sympathetic ear… the survivor, she was an Earth Angel. She asked some difficult questions. Questions that inspire growth – questions that force me to challenge my own thinking and current life decisions. I can acknowledge the [family] situation for what it is. I do not agree with it but I understand it. In context of Fight, Flight or Freeze… perhaps I’m still in the freeze mode. I learned early on that Fight mode resulted in an increase of abuse. Flight mode saved me from physical harm but did nothing for the emotional turmoil. Freeze… am I in freeze because I’m still making the decision to love someone that doesn’t love me? Am I being harsh on myself with defining love as physical proximity? What am I proving? And to whom am I proving anything to? Is it to others? Myself? More specifically… my head or my heart?

How do I define love? What is love? To me, love is the ability to put others before myself. When in a situation with another person that defines love in the same way, it’s pure magic. This is where you see people blossom. Most of my pockets of friends around the world are in this mindset. Love is having an abundance mindset and sharing that with others. Nothing more and nothing less. Love is giving a piece of yourself to another person.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” – such a powerful question. Another layer, her love language is time. I was unable to offer that in abundance for 11 years (when I lived overseas). Of course, I came home for the summer and then for Christmas. Typically a 2-week visit on each occasion. In addition to that, we would have daily video chats. So am I here out of guilt? Obligation? Perhaps to prove something..? I’m not sure.

13 weeks ago something changed. According to my heart, perhaps that’s when she decided that she does not love me. According to my head, perhaps that’s when she decided to allow others to influence her in a very toxic way. Whether self-inflicted or externally influenced, 13 weeks ago is when she decided that I’m no longer worthy of being loved. As hard as it is to write those words… that’s when things shifted from being in a situation of thinking of another person first to thinking of only themselves. And so I’ve been brainwashing myself with #LoveDoesNotHurt but the reality is sometimes it does. Sometimes love is doing things that you don’t want to do. It’s weathering the storm. Love is a decision. Love is a decision to continue to love another person even when your feelings have changed. Love a person despite their flaws. Love a person despite their brokenness. It’s a personal decision. But it’s a decision, it’s not an emotion. Love is not an emotion. It’s a conscious decision.

I have a dirty habit of packing a bag and disappearing off-grid. When my heart gets to the breaking point, I require space to reconnect with myself. To heal me. Whether it’s a 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat, a road trip with an old friend, crashing on the couch of a new friend or simply sharing a story of overcoming adversity with a complete stranger… all of these interactions with kindred souls help me. It reminds me of my inner strength. It reminds me of my resilience. It reminds me of my purpose… and the WHY behind everything; My driving force to just.keep.going.

Love is a decision. For years, I have put others before myself. Sometimes at the cost of my own wellness. “Why haven’t you left yet?” is such a powerful question because it calls me out on taking the next step. Embracing with a full heart my next chapter. In 2006, leaving was flight mode. It was me avoiding conflict and then dealing with it head on a few weeks at a time. In 2018, leaving is accepting that I’ve put in the time and done everything in my power to fix a situation. I made a choice to love others despite everything. My heart accepts that since I’m the only one that thinks there is a problem, the people I love will never be inspired to change. And my truth is they simply do not love me. They have chosen to stop loving me.

Why would I stay someplace where I’m criticised rather than celebrated? If love is a choice, then maybe it’s time that I re-define love. Re-define who I love. Is it me? Perhaps, it’s time that I love me first, then others.

#WhyIWrite #SelfLove #IAmWORTHY #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #TraumaBond #LoveDoesNotHurt #BreakingCycles #Rewiring #CoreWork #Healing #Light #Love #JourneyToPeace

Resilience: Helping you #BeYourOwnHero

Perspectives are SO important. Mine is very uncommon…

I’m back to sharing my morning rambles. Kind of… each time that I openly share my words (to me) it’s a personal declaration that I will not be silenced by people causing me harm. And sharing the pain in my world is my way of seeking truth and finding the lesson (healing).

I’ve mentioned being raped a few times. Yes, it happened. No, I am not upset about the rape itself. It was a very unfortunate incident. To be honest, I’ve come to terms with the specific event. I think the part that still bothers me is how my family responded to it. My words are intentional, responded. The reaction is what they said/did at first but it’s a response because nothing has changed since then. The fact of the matter is that I was in a traumatic situation and the situation was made worse by lack of support from my family. I didn’t expect support but it was very telling. The rape helped me seek truth in my family dynamic. I have gratitude in my heart (towards the rapist) because he was simply a messenger (and perhaps an opportunist). A messenger because I needed to endure this type of experience to see the true colours of my family. An opportunist because, well I’m Jessica Corvo… I’m a trifecta in AWESOME. (no ego, just fact… well maybe a bit of ego).

See, the rapist, my rapist, is not a terrible person. He’s simply a person that lacked self-control. He offered me a fantastic opportunity to seek the truth. Please understand, I’m not condoning sexual violence. It’s wrong and no means no. What I am saying is that the silver lining to my traumatic experience is that he allowed me to understand (and accept) another layer of my completely dysfunctional family dynamic.

(deep breath)

The messages from the Universe have been very interesting the last few days. The rabbit hole of youtube has brought me to DID videos. Random documentaries have been around DID situations. Part of me thinks that I have ridiculously efficient processing and part of me thinks that I simply tuck certain things in a place deep within my heart and just pretend like it didn’t really happen. Or at least it wasn’t as bad as it truly was… perhaps I have DID. Has DID helped me survive the stuff that I’ve endured? Or is my perspective simply in a constate of ‘what is this situation trying to teach me?’ I’m not sure.

The other day, I was watching a video about sex trafficking. The woman, Carol, was sharing her story and demonstrated absolute control of herself. She remembered one terrible situation after another… family rape, foster care rape, betrayal by friends, trafficking… and just a complete and utter collapse of a system that was meant to protect her. It was heartbreaking to listen to but so powerful. On one side, my heart congratulated her strong spirit. She mentioned a few times that it was important that she had the ability to fight back. Even when she didn’t fight back, it was important that she had that choice. When she was drugged then assaulted, she was upset about the assault but more upset that she was not afforded the ability to fight back. She had zero control over the situation. I can relate to that perspective on so many levels… Everything is about control. Others trying to control you. You trying to control yourself. If you are a compliant target then you get hurt less? This makes me question why I didn’t fight back when I was raped. I think that I instinctively knew that fighting back could result in being hit. I was already in a state of being where I was looking for the path of least resistance. I accepted the situation for what was happening. I knew that I had the choice to push back but I also knew that there would be consequences to my actions.

The abuse with my father escalated from verbal to physical. When did it escalate? … when I pushed back. Not physically but verbally pushed back. The times that I found my voice and defended myself, is when the abuse escalated. It’s a game of power. The moment I exercised self-defence, I was put back into my place.

Am I blaming my father for me being raped? No. I’m trying to understand why I behaved in the way that I behaved during a traumatic situation. I was conditioned to believe that speaking out resulted in more harm. Mom and dad were fighting, I defended mom and that specific situation resulted in him putting a loaded gun in my face. He wanted to silence me. It was a game of control. I was being conditioned to act in a certain way. I was being taught to keep my mouth shut. And when I [finally] broke my silence and started sharing my story of abuse, a bunch of people in my social network were just as bad as my father. They tried to silence me. Rather than show support, they openly criticised me. One person that comes to mind is a girl named Christine. She’s supposedly a life coach and she blasted a bunch of venom on my social media. She was trying to silence me. This is also conditioning. This is actually reinforcing the conditioning. Since then, Christine deleted her comments on my post (thankfully, I took screenshots before she deleted her comments. IF I choose to press charges for bullying, at least I have proof. People should know that things on the internet never really go away. There is always a way to retrieve anything that gets posted. So there’s that comforting thought. I have a choice to protect myself in a very public AND LEGAL way). But what makes me continue to share my healing? What gives me the strength to share my story? I think it’s the element of control. I know that I don’t have to share but I have the ability to. At moment, my blog has been read in 46 countries. At any given moment, I have people reading my words in 5 or 6 countries on a daily basis. It’s humbling but also very telling. I do not have a how-to-heal formula. I simply share my processing and others can learn from my mistakes or cherry pick my tools for healing/growth. My situation is different from others. Everyone has their own trauma they are healing from. Even though the trauma is different, I feel that the healing is similar. Mostly anyways…

To loop everything together, some people end up with a fragmented spirit that results in DID. Trauma is so bad that their core system is unable to process what is happening or what had happened (Dissociate themselves). Other people stay focused on the things they have control over (Serenity Prayer). For me, I do not have control of the family I was born into. I did not have control over a man forcing himself on me. I did, however, have full control over how I reacted. I had complete control over my recovery. I had unquestionable control over my resilience…

Maybe that’s the branding I should focus on for my coaching business. Resilience Coach. A few months ago, I was thinking about my tagline being ‘From Crazypants to Certifiable’ but now I’m thinking that it’s more suitable to have something along the lines of resilience… what is a catchy tagline for that… ‘Resilience: Helping you #BeYourOwnHero’

(deep breath)

I’m not upset about the rape. (I cannot change the rapist)

I’m not upset about the 50+ hours of abusive texts. (I cannot change my father)

I’m upset that I unquestionably [and without hesitation] jumped at the opportunity to defend my mother when I should have been protecting myself. (I can change Me)

I’m upset that my family does not think that I am worthy of human decency. (I cannot change my family)

I’m upset that I didn’t break the cycle of self-harm. (I can change Me)

Focus on what I can change… and focusing on what I can change is the essence of building resilience.

#BreakingToxicCycles #SelfControl #WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #BreakTheSilence #StopConditioning #StopBullying #Healing #Recovery #AbuseRecovery #ProcessingPain #Reflections #JourneyToPeace

Poem: Be Your Own Hero

When you’re covered by a cloud
with no friends to be found
just remember these special people
Me, Myself & I.

There is never a need to fear
because they are always very near
Call out to these special people
Me, Myself & I.

When times get rough
remind yourself to be tough
Hold a place for these special people
Me, Myself & I.

Life will make you sad
and sometimes unbearably mad
Dig deep for these special people
Me, Myself & I.

One day the light will come back
and your troubles will lack
it’s because of these special people
Me, Myself & I.

Me* — the person responsible to find the magic
Myself* — the person who needs the magic
I* — the person to share the magic with others

#Poetry #Poem #BeYourOwnHero #SelfLove #SacredMoment #JourneyToPeace

Explosive Reactions are a sign of unresolved pain

I have to keep reminding this to myself. I have to be mindful of when I’m getting explosive. Is it the person? The words? Or the deep seeded pain? 100% it’s the deep seeded pain.

Up until last year, I would have explosive reactions when people made insensitive comments about my biological father. I would call them insensitive, ignorant, all sorts of things and hid behind the need to protect myself. I pushed back because my heart was hurting. Others were telling me to respect a person that had a proven track record of trying to compromise my wellbeing; someone that had ZERO regard for my existence. Those words are just as difficult to read as they are to type. I lost my sh!t when people insisted that I love a father that didn’t know how to love his daughter.

The truth hurts. Deep seeded pain. Unresolved pain. I decided that I needed to unload this burden of pain because I felt it was destroying me. I knew it was destroying me. It’s not healthy to have such an explosive reaction when someone makes a comment about my biological father. So I did what I thought I needed to do. Get honest with myself. Turn into my pain. Heal myself. The tools needed to do this were vast. It was a combination of things that I’ll get into later. But today, when people stop me and ask, “I heard you don’t get along with your Father? What happened?” I’m far enough into my healing to say, “He likes to abuse me. I do not like being abused. I guess that’s right, we don’t see eye to eye on how to define a loving and mutual respecting Father-Daughter relationship.” Aside from being on high alert on Father’s Day (which is completely understandable), the last time that I had an explosive reaction was in August. I was caught off guard. My mother’s elder brother was struggling with the death of his elder sister and true to form, rather than deal with the pain in a constructive manner, he decided to lash out at me. He was intentionally trying to cause me harm. In hindsight, it’s kind of funny because my father wasn’t there, nor did he have any business in the conversation. The mere fact my uncle used this soft spot to intentionally cause me harm was enough reason for me to accept this kink in my armour and get to work. I told myself I was going to do whatever I needed to do to heal. Under no circumstances would I allow anyone, intentional or ignorant, to cause me harm at the mention of my broken relationship with my father.

The journey has been tough. I’m not going to lie. There was a lot of ugliness that came out. Mostly heart center but the moment I was 100% honest with myself, that’s when the real healing was able to take place. The more I spoke about my heartache, the more people stood up. The more dysfunction I removed, the more support that walked in. I still remember, one of my first conversations about the matter was with a neighbor. He was teasing me about [not] running away from home. He also commented on how family is important. Somewhere in the conversation, I blurted out that my father put a loaded gun in my face. I told the neighbour how my father held me up against the wall by my neck. I told him how I had to do 100 hours of community service with the American Cancer Society because I got into trouble for calling the police when I felt my life was being threatened. I broke down in front of a new person. I made myself vulnerable. I just blurted out the storm that was swirling in my heart. The thoughts that were dancing in my head. The pain that was suffocating my soul. And through all of this, his eyes welled up. He reached out and gave me a hug until I literally could not hold myself up anymore. My moment of complete rawness allowed a connection with a new friend. A kindred spirit. And he was the first of a few to tell me that he never had a daughter, he’s not trying to be my father but if I need anything, he’s available. Everyone needs positive men in their life, if anything to remind them that decent men still exist. And at that moment of complete brokenness, my family expanded by one. I’m very blessed because since then, I have been able to build a community of some pretty amazing people. People who are supportive. They listen. They are patient. They remind me of my awesome. They know the ONLY thing I need is love. I don’t ask for anything but my world was lacking so much love and these people are stepping up to help me. They are reminding me of love. Real love. NOT conditional love. Just raw, I’m here. What do you need. I love you. Love.

Now family dysfunction runs deep. I have learned a lot about both myself and my family during the last year. At first, I thought my father was the only one causing me harm. Once he was removed, I was able to observe my brother and my mother.

For the most part, I’ve kept my brother out of my blog because I’m convinced he’s a psychopath. Based on 30+ years of interactions and what I have learned about cluster b personalities (plus narcissists and psychopaths), I can make this claim with confidence. That said, I’m not a licensed therapist nor has he been properly tested so my claim is only my opinion. I share it because understanding the type of dysfunction is useful when healing. So after I was able to put things to the side with my father, I had to address my brother. That was fun so said NO ONE that ever dealt with a psychopath. I went quiet on my blog for a few weeks because I had to play games. I needed to test my other social media platforms. My other platforms are a controlled environment. I needed to observe just how deep the evil flowed. On my blog, I can only tell who my readers are by country, but on social media, I can see who is watching my IG stories and I can control who can see my FB posts. It’s a web. I was proactively doing damage control. Identifying and reducing my risks.

Of course, no plan is perfect. Through this stage, a handful of baby vampires came out to play. I guess it was good practice because it reinforces my ability to identify and remove dysfunction. I’m pretty good at identifying in Asia but I’ve been struggling in the USA. I think it’s because I’m in an emotional state thanks to my healing journey. Intuition + emotions = danger zone. In Asia, my intuition can sense the energy almost straight away. For people I’m on the fence with, it takes me 3 weeks. In the USA, it took me 2 months… so I’m not far off but I’m still purifying my heart and re-wiring my core system. All of this is necessary to recalibrate my intuition.

My father is NOT in my heart space. (I’m no longer explosive, my pain is mostly healed). My brother is NOT in my heart space. (I’m no longer explosive, my pain is mostly healed). My mother, she’s still in my heart space and that’s the current focus. Identify, accept, heal. (I’m extremely explosive, my pain is raw and this one goes deep… it’s my mommabear). Identify. Accept. Heal.

The journey continues… Today, my heart is shattered. Tomorrow, I start to pick up the pieces.

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #FamilyDysfunction #DaughtersNeedTheirMother #Heartbroken #Overwhelmed #Healing #Recovery #OneDayAtATime #SideStep #Breathe #LoveDoesNotHurt #JourneyToPeace

The Magical Penis

Before you get excited, I’m going to start by saying this concept is not what you think.

As someone that has kept my family dysfunction, my family abuse, my brokenness, VERY private, I have learned a few things about sharing my pain. I have been joking about this concept for a few days so thought it was time to bust out an unconscious stream of words to explain what I mean.

Background

I am a phenomenal woman. I’m a packaged deal. I’m smart, I’m well travelled, I have a good heart… and I take care of my body. I can still fit into my prom dress! (Mind.Body.Spirit is on point).

I’m also a relatively conservative girl. I am easily upset when objectified. I do not understand aggressive sexual energy. I am also very intentional with how someone is allowed into my space. Is this a lover? Boyfriend? Helping me through a storm? Everyone serves a purpose. Everyone fills a need.

A lot of boys have tried to fake friendship. A lot of boys have tried to dominate my body rather than capture my heart. I realise, by sharing this, a hand full of phenomenal women will be upset because I’m basically telling boys what not to do. But my intention is to call out all these predatory boys who think they have a magical penis.

The magical penis does not exist. Truth.

The Problem

If a girl decides to share her pain with you, just be present. Don’t offer her an alcoholic drink. She’s already emotional, why add drunkenness to the mix? That’s recipe for terrible decisions that will only benefit you. Do not be a predator. Remember, your penis is NOT magical.

If a girl decides to share her secrets, don’t put your arm around her unless she asks for a hug. Chances are, depending on the pain, she will punch you in the face. You need to be on high alert with respecting boundaries. Do not be a predator. Remember, your penis is NOT magical.

If a girl decides that you are worthy of knowing her softest bits, never use that knowledge against her. She might not realise your level of dysfunction at the moment of sharing but rest assured, once she balances herself out, your name will be dragged through the dirt as a sexual predator. No one wants to be known for taking advantage of a vulnerable girl. Do not be a predator. Remember, your penis is NOT magical.

If a girl decides to share something personal with you, it means she thinks she can trust you. You are already a step ahead of the others so please take this honour very serious. Be smart. She’s granting you access to the VIP part of her being. Do not be a predator. Remember, your penis is NOT magical.

The Process

Over the last 10 years, I’ve re-framed this phenomenon as #PrettyGirlProblems #DaddyIssues #FuckBoysUnite #NiceBoysDoNotExist and for a few years, I only shared personal stories with guys I thought were gay. True story. One time, I even asked a guy on a scale of 1 to 10, how gay are you? I asked if he’s been gay from the start or if he’s ever been with a woman. I was worried about converting him. Boys thinking they have a magical penis has been a serious issue.

At the end of the day, most of the guys I confide in are in different countries. Since the physical aspect is removed, I cannot be clouded by root chakra energy. Another benefit is I can remain in my heart chakra space (vulnerable) which is actually the best for embracing emotions to ultimately heal. The worst thing for a healing journey is having to jump back and forth between vulnerable and defensive. That’s part of emotional abuse. The yo-yo feeling.

The Plea

The message in my heart is simple. If a girl trusts you, please respect her vulnerability. Be a safe harbour. You are in the running for something much more than a one nighter. Remember your penis is not magical. Listen to her needs. Help her get back on the right track. A good woman will unlock so many doors for you. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, professionally… the magic in capturing her heart is limitless.

Always remember, your penis is NOT magical.

#NoCreepyBoysAllowed #BeADecentMan

 

If my wounds were visible…

I stumbled across an article. It was a woman that shared some pretty traumatic abuse, in church, by her father. The sentence that caught my attention is one that I heard in my family… on many occasions, “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about!”

Another favourite one-liner was, “I’m not yelling, do you want to hear yelling?!”

I remember a field trip to the city. I do not remember what prompted this but we drove through the Projects and told that if we didn’t listen to them (parents) then we would end up with a future of a crackhead. Programming: disobedience = crackhead.

I cannot say that my family was physically abusive because I cannot really remember anything of that sort until I was an adult. The extent of my physical abuse was being strangled up against a wall and on a different occasion, I had a loaded gun pushed up against my face. Thinking back, I’m not sure that really constitutes as physical abuse. I still think it’s more emotional/psychological abuse but… Regardless on how I slice it, it was all inappropriate.

So the line, “If my wounds were visible…”

If my wounds were visible, I wouldn’t feel crazy. I wouldn’t have to spend so much time going over whether or not something was healthy or abusive. If my wounds were visible, I wouldn’t evaluate single criticism to either validate or invalidate what I know to be true. If my wounds were visible, I would have pictures of bruises and broken bones as opposed to broken dreams and a shattered heart. I have a series of pictures after abusive episodes and debate on whether or not to share in my blog. The pictures are disturbing. They make me feel sad to even acknowledge because my spirit remembers the pain from that moment. It’s a suffocating pain that makes me feel ashamed, helpless, and overwhelmed.

If my wounds were visible I would know that I am worthy. I wouldn’t have to preach it to others. I wouldn’t have to remind others to treat me with decency. If my wounds were visible, then I’d be able to identify the predators a heck of a lot faster. I’m flawless when I’m in Asia but I still struggle when I’m in the USA. It appears that my judgement is clouded by proximity. Proximity and emotions. I’m in a constant emotional state as I’m processing family drama. Family abuse. Family dysfunction.

If my wounds were visible I wouldn’t feel so alone. People would know to just sit quietly with me as I try my hardest to be gentle on myself. They would know that my wings are broken but I’m working like a mad woman to hold myself together.

If my wounds were visible…

I’m very blessed because I knew before I knew but I didn’t know. I never waited for someone to help me. I took the first flight to the furthest place in the world. Just a few weeks after graduation, I moved to Asia. I started my life out there. I built my own world. I forced myself to only depend on myself. I always knew that I could come home (my mom was always supportive) but deep down, I knew that my only chance for survival was to spread my wings and leave the nest. I’m grateful that my wounds were not visible because had they been visible, I do not think that I would have achieved the success that I achieved for all those years. I’m not saying that I encourage people to suffer in silence, I’m only saying that I’m grateful for this current moment. I’m actively processing pain and healing my spirit. I’m actively purifying my heart and getting myself into a healthy place. I’m actively pulling myself out of denial and confronting my deepest pain and demons…

And for this specific time, If my wounds were visible, I think my healing journey would be a bit easier. If my wounds were visible, then my biggest supporter would have the courage to accept the truth that her daughter is being attacked. People are trying to destroy her daughter.

But the grass is always greener on the other side, right?

I’m glad my wounds are not visible. It allows me to address my pain at my own pace. I’m in control of what narrative to share. When things get too difficult, I can disappear to a new city and I don’t have to confront my pain. I can ignore it for a short while. I just need to remind myself that no one else’s opinion matters. And by sharing my healing journey, I am able to help those also healing from invisible wounds. It’s an expansive tribe. Elite even… and I wouldn’t change a single thing about my abuse or my recovery. I just try to take things one day at a time…

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #IfMyWoundsWereVisible #InvisibleWounds #Trauma #Recovery #OneDayAtATime #JourneyToPeace

#MentalHealthAwarenessMonth (conversation with a kindred soul)

*I posted this conversation on my facebook page but wanted to share it on my blog as well. In the last few weeks, I recognized that I needed to focus on Facebook to clean-up and remove some non-supporters. I spent the month with daily posts on mental health. Part to raise awareness, part heal, and part to reveal. I had some snakes in the grass so posting there helped me cut the grass and expose the snakes. My healing is done in layers. Purge. Reflect. Purge. Reflect. Cull. Purge. Reflect. Cull. This last month was kind of magical because I was able to Purge, Reflect, Cull and Deepen. The number of people that reached out with #MeToo broke my heart but also reinforced that my sharing is helping others. Even if only to make them feel less alone. Anyways, here is a conversation with a well-wisher. These are the people worth a spot in my heart-space.

* * *

Friend: (voicemail) Hey honey, I just want you to know that I love you and see how you are doing. I felt a shift so please call me.
Friend: (voicemail) Hey Honey, Thank you for the postcard. I love you. I cannot remember the last time I received a postcard. I can feel your love. Please call me.
Friend: (voicemail) Hey Honey, Your phone has been off. I know you went to a bbq and I just want to make sure that you are ok… I’m starting to get a bit worried. Please call me.
Jess: Hey! I’m sorry. I love you. I needed to disengage to connect. I’m back on vibe. I am struggling with this but I’m getting there. How are you?
F: Oh good. I knew it was a big jump and just wanted you to feel the love. I wasn’t sure if you jumped on a plane… I’m glad you called. Do you want to talk about it?
J: Yeah. Do you have time?
F: Of course honey.
J: I know that people don’t understand me and I’m ok with that. I know the number 1 rules is NO CONTACT. People are told to avoid dysfunctional situations at all cost. I also know that relationship drama is much different from family drama. I’m doing what most wouldn’t even try and to be honest what most professionals tell you NOT to do. I feel like it’s going to break me but I know it won’t. I’m building. I’m at ground zero because I know I have to be but I cannot find the words.
F: Your voice sounds strong. Your spirit is still very strong. I’m very proud of you. You are not doing normal things but that’s what’s so special. Don’t worry about explaining yourself. The people that know will understand and love you. The people that don’t will start to fade away. Let them go.
J: I had a few purges. I caught myself getting short tempered and it was because I allowed someone to disrespect a boundary. The real magic came after my off-grid session. May I read you something?
F: Of course honey. Go ahead. When you are ready.
J: (reading my blog post: I’m grieving the loss of a family that never existed).
F: Oh honey. Powerful. How are you feeling now?
J: The truth. I’m proud that I can release those words without attachment. I’m disappointed in myself that my tolerance level is so high. This is not normal and I know it’s not and I’m concerned that I’m OK with it. Well, I’m not OK with it. But how is it that I’m functioning with all this garbage? I know that I’m where I need to be. I want this crap out of my system ASAP. I’m not sure if my ego is going to get the best of me on this one.
F: Honey, you have a broken heart AND you are re-wiring your core system. Do you understand how brave that it?
J: I watched a movie today. Have you heard of Jennifer Fox?
F: Yes. Producer?
J: Yeah. She shared her story. 6 years of writing to find and share her story. She was molested when she was 13 years old. Her body knew it was wrong because she threw up after each incident but her mind said that it was a relationship with an older man. And the story is her coming to terms with the reality of the situation. The avoidance. The anger. The confusion. The denial. The curiosity. The pain. The beauty…
F: … (sigh)
J: and I’m drawn to the beauty of her sharing. I’m starting to package my own story. I’m sharing the most private of my world. I feel like I belong on the Dr Phil show. ‘Hey Dr P, can you help? My family has a narcissist, psychopath, enabler and I’m the scapegoat with attachment issues.’ (deep sigh). can I ask what group of people I should be targeting to share my story? I have so many things that are relatable but I also know that it’s too much as ONE story.
F: Don’t you think that the power is IN the entire story? Not who you are trying to help but simply how you managed everything?
J: …
F: This is just another part of the process. Your travels taught you something. Ironman taught you something. Writing taught you something. Public sharing taught you something. Share that. Share those lessons. Sweetheart, you are so incredibly brave. I don’t know how you are managing all of this but you are. You are there by choice. This is where you are supposed to be.
J: I know. I could be on a tropical island. I could be in Germany. Heck, I could still be prancing around Italy… I have plenty of places to call ‘home’. I have people that celebrate me. I have options. I guess I’m starting to second guess myself. I’m struggling with beliefs vs truth. Beliefs vs truth.
F: Honey, you are here for a reason. Confronting truth is not easy. Look at how far you have come in this last year. The truths that you have accepted… That’s powerful. Very powerful.
J: Yeah, I guess. I don’t have panic attacks anymore. My dreams are coming back. I was able to shut down and separate the various dysfunction. I know that my head is clear. My heart is still clouded though…
F: Honey, your heart is broken. What your family is doing is wrong. Some might be sinister but one is not. Your heart is breaking not just for you but for her too. And shifting from helping her to accepting that there is NOTHING you can do is devastating. Leaving is not deserting anyone. It’s not running away. You are implementing healthy boundaries.
J: I know that I’m caught up in the injustice of it all. I know that. I just cannot understand it. If I’m credited for the dysfunction then it’s simple. She likes to test things. She is a professional game player. So fine. Play the game. Stop using my name to them. If they agree, then I’m wrong. If they get upset, punish or start trouble in any way, then I’m right. It’s not about being right or wrong but play the game to test out my theory.
F: She’s not ready for that truth. It’s easy to blame you when you are not here. So how are you going to respond? What is your objective?
J: I guess one of my goals is to confidently be able to say “I’m sorry for your pain. My heart breaks for you. I’d move the Earth for you [if asked] but I only help those willing to help themselves. Are you ready to put in the work?”
F: That’s the first thing all therapists and professionals say. “Are you ready to help yourself.” I know it hurts but it’s healthy. She currently doesn’t want the help and you cannot ease her pain.
J: The bbq was ok. I am safe.
F: I know but careful with new people. You are vulnerable right now and your public sharing makes you a target to predators. Just keep your wits about you. You are a smart woman. Intuition is clouded with emotions and you might not have feelings for others but I’m glad that you recognise that you are still in an emotional state. You are almost there. I’m proud of you!
J: I promise to call before I jump on any planes. I told you that I’d come see you for a few weeks before I start my next chapter. My focus is packaging. I need to figure out how I want to share my story. My story is my TedX. I’m not ready for that stage yet. Almost but not ready. I’ve almost reached my peace. Almost there… Love you.
F: Call me in a few days. Keep me posted. I love you. I’m so proud of you. My door is always open. No need to call, just show up if you need me. I’ll send some extra angels your way. You are never alone. I love you, sweetheart.

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #KindredSpirits #PureLove #JourneyToPeace

I’m grieving the loss of a family that never existed

Yesterday, I felt that I was getting short tempered. I know that my rough edges were starting to expose themselves. I opted to just shut down and get back to basics. I put my phone in airplane mode. And I allowed myself to sit.

I did a few loads of laundry. Active meditation of sorts. Mindless activity to sort, clean and hang dry. Then I changed my clothes. I made a lemon water bottle and was going to lay in the grass. I wasn’t ready. I grabbed my laptop and belted out yesterday’s post. My mind was clear but my heart was hurting. My pain was leaking out in other forms. So let’s shut down and see what comes up…

I had 6 hours of quiet. 6 hours without exchanges with people. 6 hours without distractions. 6 hours of nothingness. BUT during the nothingness, I was able to open another lane on the highway between my head and my heart. Unveil another layer of myself to reach my core.

My heart is broken. I’ve been clear about that. I still feel absolute crazypants for some of my sharing and I know it’s because I still haven’t been able to find the right words. The words that capture everything. I can easily belt out 45k words of dysfunctional situations but the season of understanding has passed. I can negotiate healthy boundaries with those causing me harm but the season of acceptance has passed.

I’m stuck in the let go season. Such an odd term ‘let go’. What am I letting go of?

I’m letting go of a lie. I’m letting go of a fairytale. I’m letting go of the biggest deception of my life. I have mentioned a few times that I grew up with a supportive family. But if they were really supportive then why are things so hostile now? If things were actually as ‘good’ as I believe, then why the dysfunction now? What changed? Why did it change? Does it matter? Perhaps I’m in denial of my childhood? My childhood was the lie. I need to let go of the things I have believed to be truths but they were actually just beliefs.

Last night it all came together. Like a massive wave. An ah-ha moment. A revelation that I didn’t expect but what can one really expect during a year of healing? What do I mean when I keep saying Journey to peace? Journey to peace? What is peace? What journey? “Jess you are already peaceful. what more do you need?”

I acknowledge that I’m grieving the death of my father and my brother. I’m not ready to accept my mom but that will come in time. For now. I focus on grieving the death of people that never existed…

My father was only using me as a tool. My sole purpose in his world was to make him appear normal. As long as he could be viewed as a good father, then I was his daughter. As soon as I broke his image, our dynamic changed. I was no longer useful to him. His ‘love’ was conditional. I was tossed to the side. I was a tool.

My brother was also using me as a tool. There really isn’t much of an emotional sibling connection there so it’s a bit easier to let this relationship go or at least see it for what it is. But for him, I stopped offering value so I was tossed to the side. His ‘love’ was also conditional. I was a tool. The moment I stopped giving him stuff that he needed, I didn’t have any use. I was a tool.

The jury is out with my mom. No doubt she is being used as a tool by them. But is she also using me as a tool? Is her love also conditional?

How does one accept that everything they thought was true is a lie? How does one view their childhood as one thing and now have to question it. I shouldn’t have to question whether or not I was a daughter or a sister. I was family and family is there for one another. Is my family there for me now? During my year of healing? I am not working for a year specifically to focus 100% on my healing. Do they show up? To help? Or to cause more trouble? Is there still something fundamentally wrong with me that my core is OK with the continued hits because my mind says [to abusers] YOU ARE MAKING ME STRONGER? Is it ok that my heart is screaming [to my head] STOP MESSING WITH CRAZY. My head says [to abusers] HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT. My heart whispers [to my head] I CANNOT TAKE ANYMORE, I BEG YOU TO PLEASE JUST STOP ALLOWING THEM TO DO THIS TO YOU.

My head and my heart were at odds. At first they weren’t even speaking to one another. Same book but different chapters. As the day continued, at least they ended up on the same page (no pun intended with my writing journey :)) The back and forth finished with acceptance. The reason why I’m struggling with my grieving process is not because I am grieving the loss of people that were always abusive to me. Rather I’m grieving the loss of people that pretended to be family as long as I offered them something. I’m grieving the loss of something that I didn’t really have. People that didn’t really exist.

It’s just a matter of how deep this runs. Is it just my father and my brother or is my mom included?

‘One time shame on you, two times shame on me.’ the sad part is that I’ve offered years worth of opportunities. Without fail, they continue to prove that they are not family. They are only family as long as I am providing something to them. I’m simply a tool to them. That’s the truth that I struggle to wrap my heart around… but it’s a truth.

Each day, they actually reinforce this as being a truth. There is no ‘are you OK? or how can I help? It’s just more blame shifting, failed accountability, coldness, and messaging that I’m the problem. Last I checked I’m the only one trying to fix anything so therein lies the problem… and the solution. It’s not about fixing my ‘flaws’ it’s about fixing my heart. My heart is broken because I’m grieving the loss of a lie. I’m grieving the loss of a family that never existed…

The journey continues…

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #FamilyAbuse #Healing #JourneyToPeace

Tug of War for time.

Admitting there is a war is the first step in winning the war.

Is it being fought on my territory? Who is the war between? Is it between me and others or is it a war within? Is it a war that requires time or is there an easy solution? Are my allies really allies or are they snakes in the grass?

I’m emotional so I cannot honestly answer any of these questions.

I can listen to music to manipulate my body to the feel good state.

I can break a sweat (bike ride, swim, or my default jump chord… running).

I need to sit. I need to feel. I need to observe. I need to release.

I know what I need to do but I still find that I’m actively engaging in activities so that I don’t have to deal with ‘it’. But what is ‘it’?

My heart hurts. But why does my heart hurt? The people it hurts for don’t express hurt for me. So why do I care? Why do I struggle to let go? What does it actually mean to let go? Am I still attached? Can I find a happy balance between being present and unaffected?

To be IN the chaos and be at perfect peace.

I already know that 50% of my nuclear family is directly abusive. I know that they also indirectly harm me through my mom. But is my mom’s resistance to face reality mean that she’s just not strong enough or does it mean that she’s OK with others causing me harm?

Never once have I ever tried to control the relationship she has between mother/son or wife/ex-husband. I can give countless examples of how I’ve offered solutions for every problem they cause. They cause. Not me. Them.

The only part of my life that has disharmony is family. And that disharmony affects me greatly and then it spills into other parts of my world. But they are the root cause. I’m unaffected when I’m in Asia. Proximity affects me. Tremendously.

So being here, in the chaos, is what I need to do. But I find that I require more alone time than normal. If anything, to assess where the problem lies.

If I was at ends with others in my world then I’d accept that there is something that I need to adjust. But the ONLY thing that is causing me harm is a simple request, Please do not talk about me behind my back. If anything this request is the easiest in terms of conflict avoidance. It’s taking zero action. It’s sticking your nose in the air and telling someone that you are not going to be involved.

And yet, I’m sitting here, stressed out, with a broken heart because the person I generally turn to for all aspects of my life is unavailable. She was honest with her limits. Anything I tell her will end up with them. My abusers. She made her decision. She’s involved. She is allowing others to cause me harm. This isn’t an act of avoidance. This is an act of aggression.

It’s not about anything else. The only priority is to examine who is helping me and who is hurting me. And it’s fundamentally simple, if you know others cause me harm and you feed them information about me, you are part of the problem.

How do I resolve this in my heart? It’s been 7 days of trying to convince my heart of this truth. 7 days of accepting that my rock is no longer my rock. I have other rocks and my foundation is pretty strong. But to tell my heart that this rock is no longer available and there is NOTHING I can do to change it… that’s the most heartbreaking of all the truths I’ve had to face on this journey.

April 15, 2018 – My father is not my father but rather an abuser. (I’m still grieving this loss).

April 15, 2018 – My brother is not my brother but rather an abuser. (I’m still grieving this loss).

May 21, 2018 – My mother is not hurting but rather she is helping the others hurt me. (I need to accept and start this grieving process).

In what world is this acceptable. Where is the manual to process this? Who can offer the cliff notes? My heart hurts and I just want it to stop hurting. Grieving people that are still living is not easy. This entire situation is appalling. The sad thing is I know that I’ll still win. The fact that I’m still kind to others despite all of this family garbage means that I win. The fact that I can articulate the dysfunction means that I win. The moment I get my head and heart on the same page with this last truth will set me free.

Until that moment comes, the war is within. My head says that she’s hurting me, remove all opportunities to cause pain. My heart says give her a pass because hurt people hurt people. Build your resistance and be stronger to help her.

The war continues and I remove myself from all influences to get my head and heart on the same side. They need to be alliances, not enemies. Today is a day to be off-grid. Mother Nature will offer me the peace I need for the day. No distractions, just some grounding to get my head and heart on the same page… at least for a few hours. I’m not at peace. I’m fragmented…

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #FamilyDysfunction #BrokenHearted #Understand #Accept #LetGo #JourneyToPeace