Overcoming Sexual Abuse » healing from abuse

Why It’s Important to Heal My Own Way

Patty Hite — Sun, 16 Sep 2012 03:43:24 +0000

by Patty Hite

When I started on my healing journey, I wanted someone to just give me the answers, show me the way and tell me what to do. I wanted to be taken care of because I didn’t have the confidence to take care of myself.

There wasn’t anyone to talk to or to show me how so I turned to books. There were only a few library books on abuse, and even fewer books about healing. Most of what I found were stories from survivors. In their stories, they wrote about what they did to heal.

Most of them went to therapists and I felt defeated because I couldn’t go to one. I came from a very small town and there were no therapists or counselors. Even if there had been, I wouldn’t have been able to afford it and I honestly don’t think I would have told anyone else about my abuse. I was afraid of a professional telling me I was crazy.

Some of the survivors from the books I read were facing their abusers. I wasn’t ready for that at such an early stage in my healing and I felt so weak.

I tried their ways and only found myself feeling more and more helpless and hopeless. My only recourse was to lay the thought of healing down—forget about it and try to continue living my life the way I always had. That didn’t help either because when those flashbacks came, I had no way of releasing the pain they left.

I had to find out what worked for me, but finding my own answers was one of the hardest things for me. I was always afraid I would mess up or do the wrong thing and then I expected punishment when I failed.

My childhood was ruled with a strict hand and we were treated like property. I learned by watching my brothers being punished, to obey without questioning. They were lined up and, depending on the crime, were beaten with a stick off the tree, a paddleboard or a leather belt. They weren’t allowed to cry or get angry. No emotions were allowed. To me, that was terrifying.

My adult life was controlled by more abuse so I was trained to just follow other people’s rules to try to survive. When I married my first husband, I learned the lessons even more. He used many tools to get his way. I learned about emotional abuse, sexual abuse, and physical abuse. He manipulated me with blame, shame and guilt and he forced me with his hand and other weapons. I was punished when I made a mistake, when I didn’t do things right, when I spoke out of turn, or when I showed emotions.

No matter what I did, I could never do it right. Abusers had to have control over me and in order to remain in control they had to belittle me and come against anything I said or anything I did.

By the time I wanted to heal from my abuse, I was used to complying. If someone told me to do it their way, right or wrong didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had to obey their rules.

I also knew that failure brought punishment and pain. Even though no one was going to beat me anymore, I was afraid of letting others down. If it was their way, they could determine if I was doing it right and punish me for not doing it right. I was going to pay a price for failing, no matter what I did.

Since I couldn’t tell at that time whether someone was helping me or abusing me, I felt it was important for my healing to not be around people who wanted to give me the answers. I could listen to other survivors, but I needed to find my own way. I needed the freedom to discover what was right for me and what worked for me. I needed to be able to make mistakes without retribution and fear of punishment.

I was set up to fail as long as I tried to heal someone else’s way but I found out that I have no problem with making mistakes or wrong choices when they are mine. I can usually pick myself right back up and look for Plan B or Plan C.

One day I had a flashback of me as a child sitting under a tree in our back yard. Anytime I felt sad that is where I would go to talk things out. I felt free to cry and get angry.

If that worked for me then, maybe it would work for me now? And that is what I did. My first step for healing was finding a secluded place and talking about how I felt. I love looking at the beauty of nature, so it was easy for me to sit under a tree and tell God how much I hurt, and face those areas of fear. I love to write so it became natural for me to write about my abuse. I love to take long baths with soft music and candles, so it was easy for me to do that when I was in a critical part of my healing. I realized that by doing things that brought me comfort and that I enjoyed, I was also nurturing myself, which made it easier to face the traumatic times in my life.

Before I started to combine my nurturing needs with my healing needs, I waited until I couldn’t take another breath before I would face that pain. Sometimes I would have anxiety attacks all day long. I couldn’t sleep. I’d crawl in a corner on the floor, feeling like every nerve in my body was coming through my finger tips. I’d dissociate and have so much rage before I would break down and face that pain.

Finding what works for me has been a lifesaver. I make the rules, I face it when I am ready and I do it my way. For me, nothing is better and more empowering than that.

Now that you’ve heard my experience and thoughts about this, I’d love to hear yours. Please comment below and don’t forget to subscribe to the comments so you can continue to partake in the discussion. If you would like to protect your privacy, you don’t have to use your real name. Email addresses are never made public.

Patty Hite is a facilitator of Overcoming Sexual Abuse. A survivor of emotional, physical and sexual abuse, Patty has been tenaciously pursuing her healing for over thirty years. She’s a passionate advocate for all survivors and dedicates her life to inspiring emotional wholeness in others. As a former victim of spousal abuse, she’s delighted to have found the meaning of true love, a respectful relationship, and support with her late husband, Lonnie. She’s blessed with four children and six grandchildren.

[read Patty's story here]

Is It Possible to Heal From Abuse Without Therapy?

osa — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 23:39:55 +0000

by Patty Hite, Jennifer Stuck & Christina Enevoldsen

Patty: Thirty years ago, when I started to heal from sexual, physical, and verbal abuse, there were no support groups for survivors. No one talked openly about abuse, especially not about sexual abuse. I tried to talk to my friends. Although they felt compassion for me, they thought the best solution was to forget about it and try to move on with my life.

I lived in a very small farming town of 750 people so seeing a therapist or doctor who understood the effects of abuse was not an option. The internet wasn’t available at that time, so my only “friends” were the ones who shared their stories in the library books I read. I remember how deeply their stories of abuse and their courage impacted my life. Reading about their abuse confirmed that I was not alone. As they shared their steps toward healing and talked about the masks they wore in order to survive, I cried and laughed, all at the same time. They felt the same way I did and they weren’t afraid to talk about it. I felt like someone finally understood.

I never felt that I needed therapy because all the answers were in these books. I learned very early in healing that I needed to do what was right for me. I can’t tell you how many books I’ve thrown across the room because they were too overwhelming and how many times I’ve had to take a break from everything. I couldn’t see myself on a schedule, especially not forced or coerced into healing on someone else’s schedule. I was used to doing what others told me to do so I needed to be in control of my own healing.

I’m not saying I think there’s anything wrong with therapy. I’m saying it was wrong for me. And that is important in healing—finding what is right and what is not, what works and what doesn’t. Doing it my way and on my schedule is what I’ve needed.

Christina: When I started to heal from sexual abuse, I never considered seeing a therapist. I was still married to my abusive husband and there was no way he would have agreed to pay for anything that wouldn’t serve him and his plans for me. Even if he would have agreed to pay for therapy, I didn’t think I was worth the money. I often had trouble justifying just paying for a haircut.

I don’t think money was the real issue, though. I’d had two very bad experiences with professionals. The first time was when I was in grade five and the school district psychologist pulled me out of class to find out what was wrong with me. I couldn’t tell her the things my dad was doing to me, so I struggled to give her some reason for whatever she thought was wrong. I told her I didn’t have any friends, which wasn’t true. Over the next several months, she worked with me on how to make friends. I had the feeling that she didn’t like me and that she was annoyed with me most of the time. I’m glad I didn’t tell her about my abuse because she never felt like a safe person anyway.

The second time I saw a counselor was when I had an affair. I went to a Christian counselor for a few weeks (my husband was all for getting me “help” this time) and the counselor determined that my problem was that I had a demon of seduction. That didn’t help me at all, but that concluded my “help”.

In addition to my unfruitful experiences with mental health professionals, I was suspicious of people who were “experts” or authority figures. Those are the people who hurt me in the first place and I saw them as sources of harm, not help.

Jennifer: The truth is I would have loved to go to therapy and talk to someone when I was younger, but I never really felt like getting help was an option. I went to a small high school with fewer than 100 students, so there was no counselor to talk to, and I never felt like I could go to my family. I was the support person in my home and my family made it quite clear they weren’t strong enough to be bothered with my problems.

I opened up to one friendly teacher, but I never felt like she had the time or ability to help me. I truly wanted to face my past but I didn’t know how to do that. Since I had so little support, I shoved everything back down inside me. It was too painful to want the help I couldn’t get.

Like you, Christina, I never felt like I had the money to invest in therapy as an adult. It wasn’t until I discovered the world of self-help that I started opening up about my abuse again and was finally able to start healing.

I started reading every book about sexual abuse I could find at the local used book store, I joined Facebook and connected with other abuse survivors. I cut contact from the abusive people in my life and the people I knew wouldn’t support my healing, and really started looking at how my abuse had affected my life.

Christina: Books have been my primary tool for healing, too. I felt safe being able to pick them up and put them down when I wanted to. I wasn’t afraid of the book judging me or interrupting me.

I used to need to control my interactions with people and my memories felt too raw to share until I sorted them all out. Books gave me clues about the things I needed to look at. Each time I figured out some issue and faced it privately, I felt less vulnerable sharing it with close friends. There’s something about processing it that makes it seem more manageable and less threatening.

Earlier in my healing, I don’t know if I would have ever have the guts to say aloud what happened to me, so talking with another person seemed out of the question. Now, even though I’m comfortable sharing things I haven’t dissected yet, I still process things on my own and then share them with people I trust. Many times while I’m sharing, more truths come out and I can face another layer or another aspect that I missed.

Jennifer: That’s what I do a lot too, Christina. I usually work through a memory on my own by writing it out and making any connections I can between my abuse and how it’s affected my current life. But then I’m usually so excited about my breakthroughs that I have to tell my friends, and while talking I’ll realize even more! It’s great to have healing buddies, but I have to do the work of healing myself. Nobody can do that for me.

Patty: I learned that I had to do the work myself too. There were two important things that I grabbed a hold of. One was that I had to get it out. Writing was an easy way for me to do that and I still do a lot of writing. When I revisit my abuse, writing helps me to see more details. When I’m sad, happy or angry, I can express it so much better on paper. I’ve written angry letters to my abusers (I didn’t mail them) and I’ve written compassionate letters to myself.

And the other one was instilling boundaries into my life. I had to stop any further abuse. I always thought it was my fault, but by learning about boundaries, I was able to learn how to trust my judgment of people and have the ability to walk away from bad situations. Trusting myself to make decisions about people helped me to listen to the warning signs of abuse. That was a weak area in my life and I know that had a lot to do with feeling like I was an easy mark for abusers.

Christina: Writing is one of the tools I use, too. It helps me to sort things out and to express them. I used to have trouble crying, but by writing the words, “I feel so hurt and alone”, I was still able to get it out in some way.

I process an abuse memory by examining the memory in detail. What was done to me? What was said? If there was more than one person involved, what did the other person’s reaction tell me? What messages did I come to believe from the actions and words? What did those things tell me about myself and about what I could expect from the world? How did I adapt to the lies I believed? What is the truth? How should I have been treated? (When I don’t know, I think about how I would expect another child to be treated). Seeing the truth is freeing and healing.

Jennifer: I don’t have to have other people to heal, but having people I trust has made a big difference for me. A huge part of my abuse was feeling unlovable. I’ve had to face the things that made me believe that, but having loving people around during my healing sure makes that easier.

Patty: I would have welcomed a support group like Overcoming Sexual Abuse. It’s like opening a book at the library, only the survivors here are able to answer me back. Having the ability to hear so many stories of hope and healing is very empowering to me. This is real life and these are real people and I feel honored to be a part of their lives.

Christina: I used to feel that all the growth I’ve accomplished through my healing was somehow less legitimate because I didn’t see a therapist. Through healing, I’m excited to wake up everyday, my relationships are healthy, I’m finally able to love myself and feel great about myself, but I discounted all of that since it wasn’t validated by a “professional”. As I compared my process to other survivors who had therapy, though, I didn’t see inferior results. I noticed that no matter with a therapist or without, no matter with a support group or without, no matter what tools we use or what help we get, it’s up to each survivor to do the work and that’s where the rewards of healing come from.

Abuse teaches us that we aren’t enough in ourselves so many survivors falsely assume that we can’t do it on our own. The truth is that most survivors of abuse are capable of a lot more than we give ourselves credit for.

There are plenty of people who benefit from therapy and those who might not ever have the courage to face the past without a therapist, so I’m thankful they have a place to go. But since that wasn’t an option for me, I’m thankful that I found my own way to heal.

Patty: Yes, I’m glad that I don’t have to depend on anyone else to heal. For me, it’s been a personal reward—my work, my changes, my accomplishments. I can do this!!!

Does this resonate with you? Please join in by leaving your thoughts and feelings about this topic and don’t forget to subscribe to the comments.

Patty Hite is a facilitator of Overcoming Sexual Abuse. A survivor of emotional, physical and sexual abuse, Patty has been tenaciously pursuing her healing for over thirty years. She dedicates her life to inspiring emotional wholeness in others. As a former victim of spousal abuse, she’s delighted to have found the meaning of true love, a respectful relationship, and support with her late husband, Lonnie. She’s blessed with four children and five grandchildren.

Jennifer Stuck is whole heartedly pursuing physical and emotional health and is determined to heal the wounds of her childhood sexual abuse. She loves to write, especially poetry. She has an open, accepting personality, and is always ready to crack a joke. She is currently studying for a career in Physical Therapy. When she isn’t in school Jennifer is at home spending time with her two beautiful daughters.

Christina Enevoldsen is cofounder of Overcoming Sexual Abuse, an online resource for male and female abuse survivors looking for practical answers and tools for healing. Christina’s passions are writing and speaking about her own journey of healing from abuse and inspiring people toward wholeness. She and her husband live in Los Angeles and share three children and four grandchildren.

Is This Love That I’m Feeling?

Patty Hite — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 14:44:55 +0000

by Patty Hite

My son used to sing a Bob Marley song to me all the time and the chorus was, “Is this love, is this love, is this love, is this love that I’m feeling?” I never gave it much thought until recently, but wondered why I never asked myself, “Is this love that I’m feeling?”

I have had many relationships throughout my life and always thought they were based on love. I know I searched for love and I know I wanted love, but what I didn’t know, was why I never asked myself if it actually was love. It is only since overcoming some huge stepping stones in my healing from abuse that I was able to answer that question with my “now” husband.

I took the time to wait instead of jumping in with both feet and I questioned my motives and his as well. I felt confident that I didn’t need a man to make myself complete and I felt secure enough to know I could make it without one. But why didn’t I do that with my past relationships? Why did I settle? There was one man I married and the whole time we stood in front of the minister, I wanted to run. I told myself that it wouldn’t work. And it didn’t.

My parents got divorced when I was fourteen and they constantly fought over me. Dad wouldn’t pay support and Mom would throw him in jail. He wanted full custody of me, but Mom said it was so he wouldn’t have to pay support. At the age of sixteen, I married the town drunk to escape the responsibility I felt because my parents fought all the time. My husband was older, had a job and could provide for me. I don’t remember ever telling him I loved him but I had a roof over my head and at the time, that was enough. He became abusive and extremely jealous and I left with a car and a Chihuahua.

My second husband was a friend I knew since grade school. I felt like a kid again when I was with him and trusted him because we were friends. I know I told him I loved him, but looking back, I think it was a friend love and not a spouse love. He started college and worked and I never saw him, so it wasn’t hard to leave him. I was bored and saw the world pass me by waiting on him to come home. I knew the grass was greener on the other side of the fence, and I wanted it. I left him with another car and a daughter.

My third husband was a bad boy. I wanted excitement and the ability to explore the world. He wooed me with talks of traveling out west to see the world. The day I married him, he knocked me down with a fist to the face, dragged me through the house by my hair and raped me. He owned me. He put the fear of death in me and controlled me and my daughter. I told him I loved him because if I didn’t, he would make me ‘love’ him. aI knew what he meant by that, so every day I poured out my love to him verbally, physically and emotionally. After ten years, I finally escaped. I left with no car, my daughter and my son.

I crawled back to my second husband, the friend. I trusted him and loved him; the problem was that I didn’t love myself. He was safe and I felt I could make our marriage work. I allowed him to reject me and not show me love. Early on we were affectionate and had two more children but shortly after that, the affection and attention toward me stopped. Affection was something that he showed toward me in public and I convinced myself that since I left him the first time, I deserved it.

I started healing from my child abuse during my third marriage but felt most of it was useless; trying to heal from abuse when you’re living in abuse is like trying to stick an egg back inside a chicken. It just won’t work. When I left him I was actually worse off then I was before.

Remarrying my second husband was a safer place to heal, but the more I healed and found value in myself, the more I realized that I deserved more from him. I was strong enough to talk to him about my needs and desires. His response was that he never loved me and only remarried me because of our daughter. I left, with a car and the two younger children. I was told later by our daughter that he was molesting her the whole time we were married.

I then got angry. Not just angry at him for what he did, but angry at myself. Angry about the years wasted on others. I was angry that I settled for second best. Angry that I trusted this man, but didn’t trust myself. I was angry that my children paid a life-long price because I was too focused on getting men to love me instead of protecting them. Angry that I allowed myself to be abused and angry that I was too weak to say “Enough!”

It was because of this anger that I became tenacious in getting free. Researching my past and discovering that the women in my family had no value. I was told since birth that all I will ever amount to was a wife and mother and I was shown that in order to be a wife and mother, I had to submit and succumb to my husband. Affection and attention from men was only shown in public as this was the example shown to me from my dad toward my mother. She had no value for herself and spent every waking moment, taking care of her man.

Those days are over. I do not have to be like my parents nor do I have to fulfill my father’s prophecy. I am more than a wife and mother. I do not deserve abuse of any kind. Guilt and shame don’t rule my thoughts. I am a woman of value and worthy of real love. I’m allowed to ask “Is this love?” and trust myself to wait until it is.

Related Posts:
Dating After Sexual Abuse: Is This Love?

Patty Hite is one of five facilitators of Overcoming Sexual Abuse. A survivor of emotional, physical and sexual abuse, Patty has been tenaciously pursuing her healing for over thirty years. She’s a passionate advocate for all survivors and dedicates her life to inspiring emotional wholeness in others. As a former victim of spousal abuse, she’s delighted to find true love with her husband of five years. She’s blessed with four children and six grandchildren.

[read Patty's story here]

Does this resonate with you? Please join in by leaving your thoughts and feelings about this topic and don’t forget to subscribe to the comments.

Six Million Dollar Healing: Completely Invested in the Process

Christina Enevoldsen — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 19:24:40 +0000

Christina Enevoldsen

by Christina Enevoldsen

“Steve Austin, astronaut. A man barely alive. Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world’s first bionic man. Steve Austin will be that man. Better than he was before. Better, stronger, faster.” Oscar Goldman in the opening narration to the “The Six Million Dollar Man”

If you managed to miss this classic show from the ‘70s, it was about American astronaut and Air Force Colonel, Steve Austin. When Col. Austin suffered a nearly fatal plane crash, the United States government replaced his legs, right arm and eye with bionic parts that gave him super-human abilities.

I thought of Steve Austin today when a fellow survivor asked me the question, “When do all the effects of the horrible things we’ve lived through ever end?” It’s a tough question I’ve asked myself a time or two. I’ve been at this healing thing for years, yet I’m painfully aware of how far I still have to go.

That’s why I thought of The Six Million Dollar Man. He was so injured that he shouldn’t have survived. I feel that way about my childhood. As I look back and realize that to go through those horrifying experiences without anyone to turn to for safety or comfort seem too much for anyone, much less a child. I survived, but my very being was mutilated.

Unlike Col. Austin, I didn’t have the government’s help to rebuild me. I’ve had to do that job myself. It’s probably cost less than six million dollars, though it’s taken its toll on my bank account, physical body and all of my relationships.

Even though Steve Austin is a fictional character, I wonder if he ever questioned why the government thought his life was worth that much money. That’s a big chunk of change to sink into one person. He may not have ever questioned the value of his restoration, but I sure have. In Steve’s case, he had to repay the government by capturing their enemies. I started out with that motivation too. I began my healing with the belief that my self-improvement was for the benefit of other people. I’d be a better wife, mother, grandmother, and friend. It was okay to start there, but my healing has taught me that I’m worth every penny, every moment, every drop of energy I invest in healing, even if it’s just for me. I’m worth it.

The former astronaut’s rebuilding was relatively fast. He had surgery and a short rehabilitation and training and POOF, he was fixed. My process is taking a little longer. I’m not fully operational, but I’m far from the wreck of a life that I was. I’m no super-hero, but with my restoration so far, I feel more whole and self-aware than most people I know who haven’t been through trauma. I think staring death in the face has allowed me to fully live. I don’t have bionic vision, but I do see things with better clarity—not just suffering of others, but solutions to the suffering. I don’t have bionic limbs, but my healing has made me see how strong I really am. I don’t care how long this process takes. I’m committed to finish. I’m already better than I was before. Better, stronger, faster.

[read Christina's story here]

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