EPILOGUE

“It’s never too late to be what you might have been.” George Eliot

…Today I am nothing like I was. I was a very quiet child growing up, for all the reasons shared in this story; I was quiet and shy with an ever ready plastered on smile that hid how I truly felt inside. I became so very quiet I almost successfully made myself invisible. I got so good at being quiet that even when I needed to tell, I couldn’t find the words: they too like me were no-where to be found. I suffered in silence-a godsend to (my) abusers.But the buck stopped with me-and not accidentally, but by choice. By a choice I made when I became a mother, therefore automatically a teacher. Back then I promised myself to make a difference. A promise that continues to date, in whatever ripe for right-doing situation I may find myself.

 It has been words that have saved me; searching for them and sharing them in therapy, through journaling, poems, and writing my life story, hoping one day it will be published. I love words, they help me to have a say-to have MY say. They help me to not be quiet about the things, that left unspoken, like cancer, left untreated, kills. So The Word here is:

 There Is Freedom, Healing and Power In The Tongue- and In Its Expression…

BOOK FIVE: MAKING LIGHT

…Like I said, it was during this conversation that I rather spontaneously disclosed the sexual abuse and it was his reaction, which at the time I had put down to him being concerned for me, that I would eventually remember in a new light, and which made me know that I had to make contact with my Karen. As I was telling him what the ex-family friend had done, he became visibly, as well as increasingly, fidgety and uncomfortable, so much so that by the time I had disclosed everything, all he could do to remain seated on his chair was sit at the very edge of it…

…The whole uncomfortable, fidgety initial reaction of his made me now, as I was putting the pieces together, wonder if he indeed had feared at that time that I was about to oust him and take him to task, which also made me additionally wonder if somewhere, outside of conscious awareness, I knew exactly what I was doing then, too. I wondered if, like any good detective, I was and had been slowly, perseveringly and patiently biding my time, all the while gathering evidence. And as some wise soul once said, God Can Heal A Broken Heart, but you need to give God all the pieces.

I contacted Karen…

Peace & Love,

Light..

BOOK FIVE: MAKING LIGHT

…Although it had been experiences with Norman that had brought me to the group, my most conscious reason for being there was to get a better understanding of relationships and the part I did and didn’t play within them, to either my detriment or benefit. Also, because I wasn’t using marijuana as crutch this time around in my therapeutic endeavours, I was hoping that the journey would take me that bit further; that bit deeper into the healing process.

Not that I had forgotten that it had been the sexual abuse and their memories that had prompted my reaching out for therapy again, but at that time, at the beginning and middle of the group psychotherapy, I wasn’t quite ready to face it head-on. It was like I had fallen asleep on the childhood sexual abuse issue again, but then perhaps that was all part of the process, and I had to deal with some other things first before I could go there.

One of the important lessons I learned in the group at the time was how, most of the time, psychological defences- habitual ways of thinking, feeling and behaving when stressed or experiencing internal and external conflict, are developed first and foremost out of the human need of self- protection. These ‘defences’ are self-preserving in development and nature, acting as survival mechanisms that as human beings we have at our disposal as we make our way through this experience called life. Thank God for them.

I also learned that, essentially, these defences – my own, my mother’s and other people’s that I had the mis/fortune to run into – are, rather than being designed to hurt, there to preserve and protect my oftentimes precarious senses of self. The more severe, traumatic, unsafe and reoccurring early childhood adverse experiences are, the more intense and almost insurmountable these defences can be to overcome later on. Contrary to popular belief, I came to see that I could not simply ‘move on’ and ‘put, once and for all, traumatic experiences behind me…

Peace & Love,

Light..

BOOK FIVE: MAKING LIGHT

“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time,” T. S. Elliot.

 …In September 2001, I decided to take my writing to another level, that is, other than just writing in my journals. I did so by joining a ‘Life into Fiction’ writing course at Centreprise, in Dalston, Hackney. The course turned out to be very beneficial as well as truly interesting, though in the beginning it took the usual period of time for me not to feel terribly nervous and uneasy all the time. Once I settled, though, the whole group ended up working really well together. The tutor was excellent and kept the whole course focused, relevant and fun.

The course appealed to me mainly because I wanted to find a way to use my journals to tell my life story, and also because ever since I was a little girl, I had been writing and toying with the idea of writing books, so this was and had been very much a childhood dream. The course then was just another one of my projects; another one of my creative pursuits resulting from my big toe being in the pool of life-exploring. Being on a time-out therefore came to be like being in this wonderful creative playground, with all my most favourite playthings.

During the course, even though the initial thought was to write my life story using my journals, I ended up writing poetry, an infatuation and preoccupation that continued well into 2004, which also saw me on stage performing at a number of venues – an incredible experience, and I might add, achievement, in and of itself. As the weeks went by on the course, I was truly encouraged to receive some really good feedback on the work I created, which boosted my self-esteem no end…

Peace & Love,

Light..

BOOK FOUR: TIME-OUT

…I think I was getting tired; tired of having to do it all and of working within the same old dynamics, with the same old struggles and conflicts. I became even more tired when the coordinator tried to become that bit more domineering and autocratic, as I began to raise my concerns with what I felt were her unrealistic demands and lack of foresight in other key areas as well.

As I grew in confidence as a manager, I began to take and stand my ground, expressing more of my mind in certain situations, especially those I believed compromised the needs of our client group, all of which led to the power struggle taking a more definite shape. This was the same kind of struggle that I had already been forewarned had happened in the past between Mrs Bailey and all the previously employed (female) managers. When she began undermining and discrediting me in my absence, as well as presence, in committee meetings and in the presence of staff, I could feel another enough is enough coming. I could hear, ‘Seconds out… time to depart.’

When I started work there I had resolved that the next time I was in a work situation, or otherwise, and those same old dynamics began to present themselves again and threaten to get out of hand, I would quit. The Barbara and Martha experiences had taught me this, so when an opportunity arose around that time, I grabbed it.

The opportunity came in regard to the restructuring of the whole early years child care provisions in Hackney, which meant a number of early years child care providers at that time came under certain threat in regard to funding, Julian’s nursery included. This resulted in an increase in fees to try and make nursery ends meet, much to parents’ and carers’ dismay. I was on the nursery management committee at the time, acting as its chair, which was another demanding responsibility. So as the situation at work lingered on, I took that particular new nursery development to make my exit at work…

BOOK FOUR: TIME-OUT

…The memory of that particular situation had been initially, however fleetingly, triggered in 1991 while actively dealing with the ex-family friend abuse of me during therapy. However, even at this particular time, while reading the dream journal, I was still quite distant from it all, mostly because of the unconscious and misguided self-blame, still outside of awareness, taking place. It wasn’t until August 2005, while working on this book, that it became plain as the light of day what Barry had done, and in its wake brought to the surface other, previously out of reach memories and feelings.

It was those particular feelings and memories, and daring to share them and it all with a friend, especially post the Norman experience, which had led me to the decision of further therapy. My friend had suggested that I seek out some kind of therapy to help put these particular demons to bed, which I agreed with and did, and which took me, in June 2000, right back into group therapy at the Women’s Therapy Centre, the very place where I had started this recovery journey. At the time, it had felt like a coming to full circle, like moving further into the deeper healing and inner knowing, and in so doing, bringing more needed completion to the beginning of ends…

Peace & Love,

Light..

BOOK FOUR: TIME-OUT

….Back at work, Barbara had finally succeeded in getting me on a disciplinary, issuing me with a three-month verbal warning. I was six months pregnant by then, and her unfounded grounds for disciplinary action were that she felt and believed, and attempted to prove, that I hadn’t been working well, if at all, with alcohol units within my work with clients, implying that perhaps I didn’t know how, and needed some further development and training. Barbara stooped as unscrupulously low as to misuse the fact that one of my clients had died to mount her case against me, and give her story some sort of credibility.

I was so disappointed and enraged with her and her level of vindictiveness. She knew full well that I knew how to do my work in this area, and that the accusation of my not being able to was indeed pure fabrication, for it had never been an area of concern during the probation period and the final successful completion of it. All it was really about was the fact that she and I worked differently.

Yes, that particular client had died, and in actual fact we never came to know the exact reason why. Yes, he knew he was diabetic, and through our work together also came to know how detrimental continuing to drink could be to this health, yet still he chose to continue, and I was there for him regardless, as should always be the case. You can’t force people into making certain decisions if they don’t want or feel able to do it. In the sessions we had been working with all that and more, so I was incredibly incensed at Barbara’s accusations!

To top it all off, the real professional misconduct regarding that particular situation came as a result of the fact that when he had died, Barbara hadn’t even thought to support me as my so-called manager and clinical supervisor. Instead, here she was choosing to use his passing to mount a case against me; to use his death to further her own crazy needs and ends. This, in turn, made me crazy, especially because I had done some really promising work with the client in question, from which he had clearly benefited, so much so that hearing of his passing had truly impacted me. The client himself would be turning in his grave at what Barbara was suggesting!

At that time, I truly began to see the truth in Mandy’s words, especially what she had said about how dirty Barbara’s fighting could be; how low she would, could and did go, and the delight she took in having people fear her. That’s how she had told Mandy she preferred to rule, to get respect and her dues…

Peace & Love,

Light..

BOOK THREE: WORLD OF WORK

…I don’t think he knew or realised that I only finally decided to be in a relationship with him after he had left his wife. If he hadn’t, I would have had to call it a day. I had already been there and done that in previous relationships prior to celibacy and Chris, and I couldn’t go back there again; that would have been like going backwards. Three-way relationships just didn’t work for me, not even the no strings attached, cheap thrill side of it. To me, someone always ends up getting hurt, and usually the one who comes in last is the first to go.

Sadly, it wasn’t until a little while afterward that I realised how much the break-up had impacted Jamie. We were having a conversation, and he said words to the effect of, ‘What’s the point in getting married? People just break up anyway. I’m never getting married.’ I guess the events of Chris and I, and the subsequent end of the relationship between the two of them, reawakened in Jamie old past wounds of loss; the loss experienced in the break up between his father and I and the end as we knew it of our little family.

Jamie still had a relationship with his father, who did take him out fairly regularly, albeit sporadically. However, it wasn’t an emotionally close and relaxed relationship any more, not like it had been with Chris. It was more an idealised one.

Jamie’s then thoughts about relationships made me feel bad, because in all of it, from the beginning of the Chris experience to the very end, I had forgotten, once again, to consider Jamie and his needs. Jamie’s somewhat despairing and pessimistic statement about relationships had sent a certain shudder through me, making me wander how in future these particular key experiences would go on to shape him, particularly in his own love life. The thought made me feel guilty, like a not-too-good, once again, blindsided, mummy…

Peace & Love,

Light..