Last night, little ghosts and goblins were visiting my front porch, with the hope of walking away with their favorite treats. This is my last post on Blogger, because I have a new blog on my website at cheryldenton.com. So I’d like to give you a different kind of treat…a scary scene from my upcoming novel, Among the Ashes…
Sophie left, and Oona pulled up a chair in front of the records file cabinets. She was on the ninth drawer when she heard the back door open and bang shut. Who would be coming in at this hour?
Swiftly, she shoved the notebook into her purse and stepped into a gap between the filing cabinets and the wall. For once, she was glad that she was so small. She held her breath and listened. Her ear drums felt as if they were swelling with the effort.
She heard footsteps on the stairs, and then someone closed the filing cabinet drawer she had left open. From where she stood, it was impossible to see who was there, without giving herself away. She waited, praying for invisibility. And then, the footsteps retreated up the stairway, and the lights went off. She blinked in an effort to see in the dark.
Oona stood there with her heart pounding in her ears, wondering who had come in. Must have been the janitor, she finally decided. He lived next door, and he probably saw the light on in the basement. She heaved a sigh of relief. “Nothing to worry about,” she said to herself.
The light switch was at the top of the stairs, and there was no way she could continue working on the list without going back up and turning on the lights. The lights would alert the janitor again that someone was down there, and she preferred to let him think that he had simply forgotten to turn off the lights when he left. She decided it was best to just go home and resume in the morning.
She walked forward and bumped into something. She gasped and then reached forward with both hands. When she realized that it was just the janitor’s broom collection, she let her breath out in a whoosh. Slowly, she shuffled to the bottom of the stairs. When she had a firm grip on the handrail, she hurried up the steps and pushed open the back door.
In the next instant, a hand came over her mouth. A strong arm dragged her back inside. Oona struggled to free herself. The door banged shut.
A voice in her ear whispered, “You know, Oona, it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.”
***
What do you think will happen to Oona? Find out how she and other characters cope with the challenges of trauma, deceit, and betrayal. Among the Ashes will be available in paperback on November 19 at cheryldenton.com. An ebook version can be purchased now through Amazon.com, Barnes&Noble.com, and Smashwords.com.
Happy All Saints Day!
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Dissociation Disrupts Our Lives
Dissociation may occur during abuse or trauma. When our world gets turned upside down, and we feel that we may crack if things get any worse, we dissociate ourselves from the moment. For example, during sexual assault, we may separate our thoughts from our bodies. We take ourselves mentally to another place so that we don't feel the physical and emotional pain of the moment.
We may later use dissociation to block out the memories of painful events or to numb our feelings long after the traumatic event is over. Dissociation protected our minds when we were trying to live with horrific circumstances. However, if we continue to use it as a means to forget the trauma or to avoid the strong feelings connected to the event, we may never recover.
Dissociation takes many forms. We may numb ourselves to all emotions or keep our distance from most people. Or we may dissociate from our feelings and memories by becoming hyper-involved in some activity.
We may over-work, talk incessantly, clean the house constantly, or jump into one volunteer activity after another. Remaining engaged perpetually in something that requires intense concentration prevents us from thinking about the pain of our past. It also leaves us feeling so physically and mentally exhausted that we can't work on recovery.
As a teacher, many of my students who were diagnosed with ADHD were experiencing abuse at home. All three of my children were misdiagnosed with ADHD, when, in fact, they were suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder as a result of abuse. PTSD symptoms look an awful lot like the ones associated with ADHD.
Do you consider yourself inattentive or hyperactive? Is it possible that these are symptoms of the dissociation which is common in survivors with PTSD? What memories or feelings might you be avoiding? If you think you may be dissociating months or years after a trauma, find a qualifed therapist to help you learn how to safely get back in touch with your feelings and memories.
Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him...Psalm 37:7a
We may later use dissociation to block out the memories of painful events or to numb our feelings long after the traumatic event is over. Dissociation protected our minds when we were trying to live with horrific circumstances. However, if we continue to use it as a means to forget the trauma or to avoid the strong feelings connected to the event, we may never recover.
Dissociation takes many forms. We may numb ourselves to all emotions or keep our distance from most people. Or we may dissociate from our feelings and memories by becoming hyper-involved in some activity.
We may over-work, talk incessantly, clean the house constantly, or jump into one volunteer activity after another. Remaining engaged perpetually in something that requires intense concentration prevents us from thinking about the pain of our past. It also leaves us feeling so physically and mentally exhausted that we can't work on recovery.
As a teacher, many of my students who were diagnosed with ADHD were experiencing abuse at home. All three of my children were misdiagnosed with ADHD, when, in fact, they were suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder as a result of abuse. PTSD symptoms look an awful lot like the ones associated with ADHD.
Do you consider yourself inattentive or hyperactive? Is it possible that these are symptoms of the dissociation which is common in survivors with PTSD? What memories or feelings might you be avoiding? If you think you may be dissociating months or years after a trauma, find a qualifed therapist to help you learn how to safely get back in touch with your feelings and memories.
Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him...Psalm 37:7a
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Are You Lonely?
Trauma survivors often feel lonely, even when surrounded by people. We frequently feel alienated, angry, or suspicious of others. Avoiding relationships is often the only way we know how to repress the triggers that might lead to rage, depression, or hopelessness. Many of us believe that our trauma shows, even though there are no outward signs of it.
I avoided social situations for decades, because I didn't know how to relate to others who hadn't experienced abuse or trauma. What would I talk about? I was so busy protecting myself from further abuse that I couldn't possibly read the newspaper or keep up with current trends.
I was afraid that if I did open my mouth, I would say something that would make others uncomfortable. When I did share some of my experiences with them, they looked horrified and then either edged away from me or took pity on me. Both reactions were devastating.
I got to the point where I was terrified of what might come out of my own mouth. If I did say something, even something appropriate, I instantly felt like fleeing from the room.
Watching others talking and laughing often made me feel as if I were standing on the outside of life, looking in. I wanted to participate, but I didn't know how. Their laughter often served as a trigger to remind me that when the social hour ended, I would have to go back to a world they would never understand.
I know now that it's important for survivors of abuse and trauma to talk to someone they trust. Doing so helps to relieve us of the burden of shame and sense of alienation that we've been carrying around for so long. When we've released some of our pain, we make room in our souls for something better.
Most of us will probably never be as sociable as we were before our trauma. Forcing ourselves to mingle in crowds where we feel panic, rage, suspicion, or depression only sets us back in our recovery process. So, we have to figure out how much interaction we can tolerate, and then engage in relationships where we feel safe.
God blessed me with a loving husband who always tries to make me feel safe. He's not always successful, but it's rarely his fault. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, PTSD rears up its ugly head to bite us again.
With Joe's help and the love of a few close friends, I have slowly progressed from feeling terrified in a room full of people to feeling in control of my emotions. When I start getting overwhelmed, I politely excuse myself. If I feel at ease, I thank God for bringing me into this inner circle that feels like family should have.
God sets the lonely in families,
he leads forth the prisoners with singing.
--Psalm 68:6a (NIV)
I avoided social situations for decades, because I didn't know how to relate to others who hadn't experienced abuse or trauma. What would I talk about? I was so busy protecting myself from further abuse that I couldn't possibly read the newspaper or keep up with current trends.
I was afraid that if I did open my mouth, I would say something that would make others uncomfortable. When I did share some of my experiences with them, they looked horrified and then either edged away from me or took pity on me. Both reactions were devastating.
I got to the point where I was terrified of what might come out of my own mouth. If I did say something, even something appropriate, I instantly felt like fleeing from the room.
Watching others talking and laughing often made me feel as if I were standing on the outside of life, looking in. I wanted to participate, but I didn't know how. Their laughter often served as a trigger to remind me that when the social hour ended, I would have to go back to a world they would never understand.
I know now that it's important for survivors of abuse and trauma to talk to someone they trust. Doing so helps to relieve us of the burden of shame and sense of alienation that we've been carrying around for so long. When we've released some of our pain, we make room in our souls for something better.
Most of us will probably never be as sociable as we were before our trauma. Forcing ourselves to mingle in crowds where we feel panic, rage, suspicion, or depression only sets us back in our recovery process. So, we have to figure out how much interaction we can tolerate, and then engage in relationships where we feel safe.
God blessed me with a loving husband who always tries to make me feel safe. He's not always successful, but it's rarely his fault. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, PTSD rears up its ugly head to bite us again.
With Joe's help and the love of a few close friends, I have slowly progressed from feeling terrified in a room full of people to feeling in control of my emotions. When I start getting overwhelmed, I politely excuse myself. If I feel at ease, I thank God for bringing me into this inner circle that feels like family should have.
God sets the lonely in families,
he leads forth the prisoners with singing.
--Psalm 68:6a (NIV)
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Are You Leading a Double Life?
As abuse and trauma survivors, we frequently find ourselves living in two different worlds. While we go about our daily lives, our minds unexpectedly take us back to the moment of trauma. I used to feel as if I were losing my mind, but now I know that this double life is often the norm for people with PTSD.
I experience this dual existence every day. It usually occurs when I'm doing something mindless, such as laundry or dishes. The triggers that send me back to thoughts of the past come in many forms...a song on the radio, the peach I'm peeling, a phone call from a family member, an old photograph, or anything else that reminds me of past trauma.
Even a pleasant memory can trigger feelings of depression and helplessness. Joe and I were listening to big band on the radio this morning. The words reminded me of a phrase my former mother-in-law used to say. She was very kind to me, and I loved her very much. But thoughts of her inevitably led me to memories of my ex-husband. In an instant, I was reliving the overwhelming sense of helplessness that occurs in abusive relationships.
I experienced significant, ongoing abuse for the first 40 years of my life. For me, triggers are everywhere. I can't avoid them, but I can manage them. When I come back to my present life from those intrusive memories, I have to remind myself that I am safe now. It's important for me to keep my mind engaged in the present with activities that require concentration.
Spending too much time alone with nothing to do is not good for me. Solitude and boredom are fertile ground where triggers grow out of proportion. Staying involved in projects and focusing on the blessings God has given me are helpful methods for rooting myself in my present reality.
Are you living a double life? If memories are intruding and causing problems with daily activities and relationships, consider talking with a qualified therapist who can help you manage the pain of your past.
I experience this dual existence every day. It usually occurs when I'm doing something mindless, such as laundry or dishes. The triggers that send me back to thoughts of the past come in many forms...a song on the radio, the peach I'm peeling, a phone call from a family member, an old photograph, or anything else that reminds me of past trauma.
Even a pleasant memory can trigger feelings of depression and helplessness. Joe and I were listening to big band on the radio this morning. The words reminded me of a phrase my former mother-in-law used to say. She was very kind to me, and I loved her very much. But thoughts of her inevitably led me to memories of my ex-husband. In an instant, I was reliving the overwhelming sense of helplessness that occurs in abusive relationships.
I experienced significant, ongoing abuse for the first 40 years of my life. For me, triggers are everywhere. I can't avoid them, but I can manage them. When I come back to my present life from those intrusive memories, I have to remind myself that I am safe now. It's important for me to keep my mind engaged in the present with activities that require concentration.
Spending too much time alone with nothing to do is not good for me. Solitude and boredom are fertile ground where triggers grow out of proportion. Staying involved in projects and focusing on the blessings God has given me are helpful methods for rooting myself in my present reality.
Are you living a double life? If memories are intruding and causing problems with daily activities and relationships, consider talking with a qualified therapist who can help you manage the pain of your past.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering 9-11
Where were you on September 11, 2001? I was in the doctor's office. His receptionist burst into the room, exclaiming, "New York is under attack!"
The doctor said calmly, "I'm trying to work here. Go back to your desk."
It took time for the terrorist attacks to sink in...for the doctor, for me, and for many others. But in time, we all realized the seriousness of what was happening.
Ten years has passed, and I wonder how many people are still suffering from PTSD as a result of the attack on the twin towers. I also wonder if they will ever find relief from the depression and anxiety that go hand-in-hand with trauma.
Send me a comment and let me know how 9-11 changed your perception of your safety in our world. If you've found ways to deal with the PTSD that resulted, share them with me.
The doctor said calmly, "I'm trying to work here. Go back to your desk."
It took time for the terrorist attacks to sink in...for the doctor, for me, and for many others. But in time, we all realized the seriousness of what was happening.
Ten years has passed, and I wonder how many people are still suffering from PTSD as a result of the attack on the twin towers. I also wonder if they will ever find relief from the depression and anxiety that go hand-in-hand with trauma.
Send me a comment and let me know how 9-11 changed your perception of your safety in our world. If you've found ways to deal with the PTSD that resulted, share them with me.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Never Put Anyone on a Pedestal
I frequently hear from readers and acquaintances that I seem to be incredibly strong, in spite of the pain of my past. The trouble with viewing me as if I belong on a pedestal, is that I can tumble from that place as quickly as anyone else can. Never put anyone on a pedestal. I guarantee you'll eventually be disappointed. No one is perfect.
Last Tuesday, I completely lost it and couldn't stop crying. My problems felt unsolvable, and everywhere I turned, I thought I was seeing my abuser...a man in a restaurant, another in a store, and so on. Life felt so completely overwhelming and hopeless, I wanted to die.
On Wednesday morning, Joe took me to the emergency room. The doctor admitted me to the psychiatric unit, where I was diagnosed with PTSD and 'major depression,' which in old-fashioned terms means a nervous breakdown.
Thank God for Joe and his position at the hospital as chaplain. He was able to come up and visit me every few hours.
I spent three days in the hospital, and I've been home now for three days. I feel like a zombie. The doctor put me on a medication designed to treat depression, anxiety, and neuropathic pain. The pain relief from MS has been great, but I'm so tired and dizzy, I just sleep constantly. Hopefully, my body will adjust to the medication.
I'll be seeing a therapist, beginning tomorrow, as well as a psychiatrist, probably for a very long time. When the staff at the hospital looked at all the 'challenging life events' that I've survived, they were very empathetic. They were surprised I hadn't cracked before now. Apparently, when big events occur, such as childhood sexual abuse, we are supposed to get ourselves into psychiatric-based therapy PDQ. If we don't, we eventually lose it, as I did.
Needless to say, the three days in the psych unit were interesting. From the guy screaming obscenities in the room next door to Nurse Ratchet to the drunks and addicts in detox, I got an education in mental un-health.
On the up side, I've got an outline for a suspense novel about a twisted mental hospital that turns homeless patients into slaves. Now you know how I can come up with the plot lines in my novels about crazy people. We write what we know. HaHa.
I'm feeling very fragile, so if my posts are sporadic, I hope you'll understand, dear reader. Thank you for keeping me in your prayers.
Today's Challenge
If you're suffering from the depression and/or anxiety that go hand-in-hand with childhood sexual abuse, domestic violence, or trauma, please consider finding a qualified psychiatrist and therapist. Don't be ashamed of mental illness. It must be treated, just as any other ailment that debilitates us.
Last Tuesday, I completely lost it and couldn't stop crying. My problems felt unsolvable, and everywhere I turned, I thought I was seeing my abuser...a man in a restaurant, another in a store, and so on. Life felt so completely overwhelming and hopeless, I wanted to die.
On Wednesday morning, Joe took me to the emergency room. The doctor admitted me to the psychiatric unit, where I was diagnosed with PTSD and 'major depression,' which in old-fashioned terms means a nervous breakdown.
Thank God for Joe and his position at the hospital as chaplain. He was able to come up and visit me every few hours.
I spent three days in the hospital, and I've been home now for three days. I feel like a zombie. The doctor put me on a medication designed to treat depression, anxiety, and neuropathic pain. The pain relief from MS has been great, but I'm so tired and dizzy, I just sleep constantly. Hopefully, my body will adjust to the medication.
I'll be seeing a therapist, beginning tomorrow, as well as a psychiatrist, probably for a very long time. When the staff at the hospital looked at all the 'challenging life events' that I've survived, they were very empathetic. They were surprised I hadn't cracked before now. Apparently, when big events occur, such as childhood sexual abuse, we are supposed to get ourselves into psychiatric-based therapy PDQ. If we don't, we eventually lose it, as I did.
Needless to say, the three days in the psych unit were interesting. From the guy screaming obscenities in the room next door to Nurse Ratchet to the drunks and addicts in detox, I got an education in mental un-health.
On the up side, I've got an outline for a suspense novel about a twisted mental hospital that turns homeless patients into slaves. Now you know how I can come up with the plot lines in my novels about crazy people. We write what we know. HaHa.
I'm feeling very fragile, so if my posts are sporadic, I hope you'll understand, dear reader. Thank you for keeping me in your prayers.
Today's Challenge
If you're suffering from the depression and/or anxiety that go hand-in-hand with childhood sexual abuse, domestic violence, or trauma, please consider finding a qualified psychiatrist and therapist. Don't be ashamed of mental illness. It must be treated, just as any other ailment that debilitates us.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Take a Leap of Faith
We continue with my series, Confident in God's Hands, to help survivors of abuse and trauma develop greater courage. Today, we look at what it means to take a leap of faith.
A splat or a flight?
After my divorce, I met with a Stephen Minister each week. She listened patiently as I told her about how it felt to be a single mother, struggling to discover my purpose.
When we are being abused, someone else is always telling us what to do. After we've left the abuse behind, we may discover that we don't know anymore who we are. Our individuality has been beaten or berated out of us, and the only thing we know is confusion.
After leaving my first husband, I can remember making the decision to buy myself a nightgown of my own choosing for the first time in nearly 20 years. I went to a department store and combed through the racks. I was determined that I would never buy anything that reminded me of the sleezy night-time attire that my abuser had demanded I wear.
But after an hour of searching, I stood in the midst of thousands of nightgowns and burst into tears. There was nothing there that suited me, and I knew it wasn't because there was a lack of variety. My inability to choose came from the realization that I didn't know who I was or what I liked anymore. The abuse had depersonalized me to such an extent, I had no evidence of my former self remaining.
As I told my Stephen Minister my tale of woe, I said, "I feel as if I jumped off a cliff when I left the abuse behind, and I'm about to splat on the rocks below."
With great wisdom and enthusiasm for God's ability to turn around the most hopeless situation, she asked, "How about imagining that you just jumped off that cliff, and God has given you wings to fly?"
At the time, I was so depressed, I had no response for her. So many terrible things had happened to me that I had just about given up believing that God was real. I hadn't been to church in months. I could barely drag myself out of bed in the morning, and I wasn't sure I could ever find my way out of the mess I had created. But this woman got me thinking. Could God really help me fly again?
I decided in the following days that the only way to discover if I had wings was to test them. So, I bought a newspaper, looked through the classified ads, and circled several jobs that I thought I could do. Within an hour, I had an interview scheduled. The next day, I had a job as a file clerk, working for a temp agency.
After just a few weeks on the job, a man recognized my potential and arranged for an interview with the advertising department. The following Monday morning, I went back to work, not as a file clerk, but as a writer. And the rest, they say, is history.
I often reflect back on that time in my life when I felt as if my leap of faith was about to end in a nasty splat. But I discovered that even when we have no idea where we're going to land, if we dare to spread our wings and fly, God puts the wind beneath our wings.
Isaiah 40:31 (NIV) reminds us, But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. When we trust in God to show us the way and to provide for us along that path, we find that we are able to do the impossible.
And when we dare to fly again, God's provision for all of our needs gives us the confidence to take another flight, and another, and another. Suddenly, we find ourselves soaring through life, wondering why we ever doubted ourselves.
Today's Challenge
Are you terrified of taking that leap of faith and testing your wings? Are past hurts keeping you grounded? Nudge yourself out of the comfort of your familiar nest, and try out your wings again. God promises to provide the wind beneath your wings.
A splat or a flight?
After my divorce, I met with a Stephen Minister each week. She listened patiently as I told her about how it felt to be a single mother, struggling to discover my purpose.
When we are being abused, someone else is always telling us what to do. After we've left the abuse behind, we may discover that we don't know anymore who we are. Our individuality has been beaten or berated out of us, and the only thing we know is confusion.
After leaving my first husband, I can remember making the decision to buy myself a nightgown of my own choosing for the first time in nearly 20 years. I went to a department store and combed through the racks. I was determined that I would never buy anything that reminded me of the sleezy night-time attire that my abuser had demanded I wear.
But after an hour of searching, I stood in the midst of thousands of nightgowns and burst into tears. There was nothing there that suited me, and I knew it wasn't because there was a lack of variety. My inability to choose came from the realization that I didn't know who I was or what I liked anymore. The abuse had depersonalized me to such an extent, I had no evidence of my former self remaining.
As I told my Stephen Minister my tale of woe, I said, "I feel as if I jumped off a cliff when I left the abuse behind, and I'm about to splat on the rocks below."
With great wisdom and enthusiasm for God's ability to turn around the most hopeless situation, she asked, "How about imagining that you just jumped off that cliff, and God has given you wings to fly?"
At the time, I was so depressed, I had no response for her. So many terrible things had happened to me that I had just about given up believing that God was real. I hadn't been to church in months. I could barely drag myself out of bed in the morning, and I wasn't sure I could ever find my way out of the mess I had created. But this woman got me thinking. Could God really help me fly again?
I decided in the following days that the only way to discover if I had wings was to test them. So, I bought a newspaper, looked through the classified ads, and circled several jobs that I thought I could do. Within an hour, I had an interview scheduled. The next day, I had a job as a file clerk, working for a temp agency.
After just a few weeks on the job, a man recognized my potential and arranged for an interview with the advertising department. The following Monday morning, I went back to work, not as a file clerk, but as a writer. And the rest, they say, is history.
I often reflect back on that time in my life when I felt as if my leap of faith was about to end in a nasty splat. But I discovered that even when we have no idea where we're going to land, if we dare to spread our wings and fly, God puts the wind beneath our wings.
Isaiah 40:31 (NIV) reminds us, But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. When we trust in God to show us the way and to provide for us along that path, we find that we are able to do the impossible.
And when we dare to fly again, God's provision for all of our needs gives us the confidence to take another flight, and another, and another. Suddenly, we find ourselves soaring through life, wondering why we ever doubted ourselves.
Today's Challenge
Are you terrified of taking that leap of faith and testing your wings? Are past hurts keeping you grounded? Nudge yourself out of the comfort of your familiar nest, and try out your wings again. God promises to provide the wind beneath your wings.
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