August 6, 1998
*sigh!*
I have been busy and sick for the past week. Which is why I haven't had a
chance to write journal entries, but I did have some significant things
happen.
1) I actually had an argument with my husband last Saturday. I didn't wait
until things felt unbearable - I actually confronted him with his need to
place blame for everything that happens. We did a lot of finger pointing and
some yelling. He didn't hit me (not that he ever has - it's just has been a
fear of mine) and when he did turn away, he came back when I insisted he
talk to me. We have agreed to start setting goals together for our family,
and I got my husband to realize that we needed to break our goals into smaller,
more achievable, steps.
2) One of my friends has told me that both my sites has helped her greatly.
As much as it lifts my heart to know that my experiences has been helpful
to so many of you who have written me, it is especially touching to hear it
from someone who is close to me.
3) Another friend thanked me for sending him all the "corny" stuff through
email, because it helps him to have a better outlook on life. I returned
the favor and told him how his faith in me had really helped me when I was
in college. Somehow, thanking him has made my soul feel so much the better.
August 13, 1998
I've been very busy lately. School starts for my children next week. I will
go back to my daily therapy exercises. I found out that my morning walk route
is 9/10 of a mile, and I plan to increase it next week. I would love to have
a waist again. ;-)
I have done it again. I had another agrument with my husband without it
getting out of control. He has been very good about this. Afterwards, he
engages me in a normal conversation about something safe. It has helped
greatly, especially since I know his natural tendency is to withdraw after
conflicts.
August 14, 1998
A couple of days ago, I asked the ladies of LOTH to recommend sites for my
Brave Heart award. The response was wonderful - in a few days my Brave Heart
list should double its size.
This success has had a two-edged effect on me. On one hand, I am awed from
the bravery of these people. It is infectious. A dear friend went ahead
and reviewed a site for my because my computer was too slow to deal with the
autoplay midis. It was probably one of the most horrifying description of
abuse I have heard of, and that was just what my friend could read to me over
the phone. She said she couldn't handle reading the whole - frankly, I was
amazed she read as much of it as she did. She is a very timid person, yet
she took on this duty, and asked if she could continue to help me - but asked
to review a site only once in awhile. I agreed with her. After giving it
much thought, I think I will only ask her to personally review a site once a
month. If she decides she can handle more, than she can go and find sites
on her own.
Which leads to the other edge -
I, myself, have read things so nightmarish these past few days, that my soul
screams at the evilness in this world. I am glad that most of these people
are dead, so the temptation to end their abhorant lives is not placed before
me. If I could, I would let my anger reach into their evil and cruel hearts
and turn them into weak and shrivelled creatures - so weak that a single
grasshopper landing on them would cause them pain intolerable. Then I would
let them live, because death would be a blessing to them. I want them too
helpless to harm another child. I want their tongues too twisted and dry to
utter their evil words. I want the screams of a thousand demons to echo in
their minds. I want them to hide from the rain and the sun. I want the wind
to be able to lift and drop them - shattering their brittle bones. I want
them to run from children, because the seeds from a dandlelion, blown away by
the breath of a toddler, would give them horrible wounds. This would quiet
the anger of my soul.
Actually, writing this punishment down has made me feel better. If I can come
up with something this awful for these people, then God could surely come up
with something even more suitable for these devils in human form. This
thought gives me great peace.
We always have choices in this life. Some of us choose to inflict our pain
onto others, and some of us choose to heal our pain and offer love. My goal
is the second, but if I cannot keep myself from doing the first, I pray that
I inflict the guilty and not the innocent.
August 18, 1998
My dear friend, who helps me to check out sites for the Brave Heart awards,
wrote me two emails detailing some of the abuse she has suffered. She has
asked for me to share this in my journal - an extremely brave act for a
self-proclaimed coward. A few months ago, she would never even consider
doing such a thing. I am amazed on how much she has come alive in the past
weeks. I guess the truth does set you free . . .
Hello Lady Fribble,
My name is A. B. Normal. I understand what it means to
have a family that is stranger than most. I was mentally abused by my mother.
I consider it to be mild compared to what another family member was doing. My
younger brother at the age of 3 yrs. was being to get verbally abusive towards
me. By age 4 yrs. he was beating me, my mom called it rough-housing. I don't
believe mom knew what was really going on. When he was 5 yrs, he was starting
to sexually abuse me. When I told my mom she asked my brother and he denied
it. I got grounded for lying! After that he quit for a few weeks then it got
worse. When I started to go to school I was praying I could use that as a safe
place. I couldn't be more wrong. I tried making friends but no one liked me.
My life was a abusive cycle during my time at elementary school. I would go to
school and have the teachers yell at me because I wanted to be creative. I
made the lowest grade on a timed math test (2nd grade) the teacher hit me with
the metal end of the fly swatter. At home I was hurt by my brother. When I
began 3rd. grade my mom hired a cousin to babysit us. He had me touch his
privates. He never touched me thankfully. By the time I started Jr. High my
brother was recieving playboy magizine. My Uncle John got a subscrption for my
dad as a joke. My dad never saw those magizines. My brother would have me pose
like some of the girls and then touch me. Sometimes he got his friends to come
over and they would also touch me. If I told them to stop he would beat me.
Also he locked me in a closet for over 4 hours. I can't remember
everything else he did.
Thanks for reading this.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Greetings Lady Fribble, thanks for listening.
In high school things began to look up. My brother's abuse was getting worse
but I now had a bodygaurd. Chris was in the same math class as me and he
noticed my left arm was badly swollen. After class he cornered me and asked
what happened. I told him that my brother tried to break my arm because I
accidentally bumped into him. Chris soon followed me home and stayed with me
until my parents came home. My brother was getting upset that I was bringing
someone home every day. He came up with a plan to see that it never happened
again. He locked me in my room. There are these little hooks above my doors
and you can push them into the door frames and the doors are locked. When my
mom came home he told her that I shut the doors and there was a guy in my room
and he heard strange sounds coming behind the doors. Truthfully nothing
happened between me and Chris. Chris never touched me to give me a hug or even
to pat my back in reassurance. I think he was afraid I would get frightened
off. I never told him about the abuse but I don't think I needed to
I think he could already tell something was wrong. Even when mom told me I
could never have another friend come over that never stopped Chris. He would
stay with me and we would talk in the front yard. I was a sophmore that year.
As a jr. I never saw Chris. At home things were still looking bleak. I was
failing my classes and got the label of retard. The abuse at school was dang
near as bad as at home. Teachers calling me names. Students sexually harassing
me and at lunch the peace I had was I would eat outside year round. I never
talked to anyone. When you're a freak you are treated like hell. The next year I
just turned 18 and I was going to a speech theripist she noticed that when she
tried to give me a hug I flinched. She got suspicious and went to the
counsillor's office and I was called in. I had never been so scared in my life
as I was that day. Mainly the words "You are dead!!" kept echoing through my
mind. I knew my brother was going to kill me. I told the cop what was going
on. The next day the CPS showed up and we all were either going to have to go
to councilling or they got custody of me. We chose coucilling it lasted for
two sessions. My brother and I thought the guy was a total nut. In the middle
of the second session we flipped him off and walked out. Now you have heard
my story you can use this to help others. I guess as a side note I have never
been able to cry for this person. One day perhaps I can cry again I don't
know.
A. B. Normal
 |
| -=A. B. Normal=- |
If you wish to send a comment to this young lady, email me, and I will forward it on to her.
August 21, 1998
*sigh!*
I haven't quite met the goals I set for myself this week. But I did finish
some things. I have been battling insomnia for awhile and I am starting to
get some sleep again. My walking is going well and I'm planning to increase
the distance I walk next week.
The next section in John Bradshaw's book deals with learning to love and
accept yourself, followed by give yourself time and attention. I tried
reading it earlier this week, but I'm not sure it sunk in. I think I will
go back over it in the next few days.
To be honest, I have spent most of this week helping some of my friends with
their problems. Which is fine, because I love them, and it makes me happy to
see them become stronger and healthier people. I also love those friends of
mine, who are there when I need them to help me. It's nice that we can switch
places, and be there for each other.
It's been awhile, since I talked to my younger self here. I think I will
make an appointment with myself to do that tomorrow.
August 24, 1998
My friend has found the courage to add more to her story:
Hello again Lady Fribble, here's more.
I spent at least 12 years with my granddad. He would babysit me when I was
first born so Mom and Grandmother could go to work. When I was about 5 my life
changed for the worst. My brother was 3 and my granddad was really getting
into the hard liquor now. He would yell at me and have me wash dishes and take
out the trash. I also had to clean up after my brother and if Granddad needed
another drink I would have to fill his glass. One time my granddad had a full
bottle of some liqour at 8 a.m. by 11 a.m. he drained that bottle and two
others he could barely walk. He told us to get into the car and I told him "No
you're too drunk." He picked up a 2x4 and slapped the small of my back with
it. That was the one time I ever went against him. He never hit me again
though he drank more and he yelled at me louder. My brother started to get
quite verbal and Grandma heard him tell me " Get your butt out of here!!!"
Gramdma asked him where he heard that he replied " I didn't hear it I said
it!!!" As the abuse progressed I quit talking. I never talked in school and
the teachers didn't help much. They would ask me to answer a qustion and if I
didn't speak up I was sent to the corner for disrupting class. I didn't have
any friends and I was moved from three different schools. In fifth grade, a
classmate came up to me and told me "I having a birthday party and you're not
invited. I could care less. The one time I was invited to a birthday party was
so I could be the entertainment. They would crack jokes about me and then
laugh and I would join in. I knew that they were laughing at me but I wanted
to belong somewhere. That was the only birthday party I ever went to. In Jr.
High I was picked on for being different. My clothes were clean and nice but
they were not name brands. At the Jr. High if you were not rich you weren't
human. (I went to a church with the same beliefs.) I got into fights just to
survive and was called a trouble maker. If anyone said Hi to me I would ignore
them. My teachers couldn't break through my defences I had set up and so they
called me hopeless, I was labeled as retarded. Now the teachers and the
students had a label for me and my grades kept getting lower and lower. I was
living in fear of my brother now. I couldn't figure out what was worse going
to school or going home after school.
I think this covers most of my story,
A. B. Normal
August 30, 1998
Well, this month is almost over with, and I have hardly written anything in
this journal. A. B. Normal has been doing better since she has written about
her past. I had been suffering from insomnia for almost two weeks. Last
Wednesday, I took a "vacation". Actually, it started Tuesday night. I
couldn't sleep, so I started to read the first book of a trilogy I had
bought, but hadn't read yet. Wednesday, I was so uncoordinated, that I went
ahead, declared the day a bust, and read the other two books.
It was worth it. For the first time in several days, I actually slept deeply.
It felt wonderful. My mind felt much clearer the next day. It was as if all
the little things I have been worrying about for the past few months had
finally been swept out of my head. I have been sleeping much better ever
since. I did increase my walking distance last week and finally hit my
physical limit. Strangely enough, it is my lower back that's giving the
problem. Well, actually, it's not all that strange - my lower back has always
given me problems. I can remember attending a school assembly in third grade,
I was sitting on the gym floor and in pain the whole time. It was always like
that, if I didn't have something to support my back, my lower back would be in
pain. It got a little better as I got older. I sometimes wonder if it was
because of the beatings I got when I was little. The saying, "What doesn't
kill us, only makes us stronger" is a load of crap. Sure, a lot of people
become stronger because they have ovecome their tribulations, but more people
become worse, and are weakened in either body or character, or both. How many
trees do you know have become stronger because they were hit by lightning,
even if they did live through it?
Do you know that if you leave something lodge in a tree, the tree can grow
around it? I've seen this. This doesn't kill the tree - at least at first.
It takes several years. One very healthy looking tree on a golf course split
in two, one day, after a strong gust hit it. Now the groundskeeper was
confused. The wind wasn't really that strong, and the tree had looked very
healthy. Looking through the damage, he found a golf club lodged in the wood.
Several decades before the groundskeeper ever stepped onto that golf course,
an angry golfer had thrown his club up into the tree and forgot about it.
Over the years, the tree grew around the club until it was embedded in the
wood. The club created a weak spot in the tree, which finally killed it.
Tribulation only makes you stronger if you conquer it and remove those
twisted golf clubs from your limbs, before they cause you to break, when you
should be bending.
When my husband and I were newlyweds, we found that we had very different
experiences with the some of the Asian refugees that came over to the US in
the 80s. My husband lived in an area that offered government support to these
people, and I lived in an area that got mostly people who already had family
there. Everyone of the refugees I knew, were some of the most honorable and
hardworking people I had ever met. The ones my husband had met, by contrast,
had absolutely no respect for life whatsoever. The stories he told were as
horrifying as the stories I told were inspiring.
After we compared behaviors and opportunities and every other factor we could
think of, we came up with a theory: Hardships either
brings out the best in people, or they bring out the worst. Which
depends on the people, themselves. The worst migrated towards the areas of
opportunity, while the best went to places where they had family and a chance
for an honorable life. Of course, I'm sure some of these exceptional people
did go to areas like where my husband grew up, and did use the advantages
that were offered to them in good faith - it's just a shame that they were
outnumbered by those who were not so honorable.
Well, hopefully in September I will get my personal healing back on track...
