anniversary notes

One year.  Actually one year and two days.  On March 8, 2015, I posted my first entry on this blog.  This, my third attempt at a blog.  And here I am, a year later, still blogging.  I would never have guessed I’d last a year, or that I’d have people following me – reading what I write and, GASP, liking some of what I write …

When I started, I was amazed at the places where I was getting readers.  The US, yeah – understandable I suppose, but so many other places.  To date, I have been viewed in 24 countries, plus the US.  25 in all.  Australia, Austria, Canada, Cyprus, France, Guam, India, Kenya, Lebanon, Mexico, Nepal, New Zealand, Nigeria, Norway, Pakistan, Poland, Portugal, Spain, Sudan, Sweden, Thailand, Turkey, United Arab Emirates, United Kingdom, United States.  Are you in there?  I hope so.  I’d hate to think I missed someone..

I probably won’t keep tracking to this extent, though I will always be curious where my readers are.  While it’s great seeing a new country appear, but seeing the same country reappear, realizing it could be the same person from some far off place returning to read something I’ve written … It makes the world a little bit smaller yet, at the same time, makes the whole impact of this thing so much larger.

I used to think seeing all these places would make feel some sort of ‘obligation to my readers’ … and there is that to an extent, I suppose – but more I now have an obligation to myself.  To be true to who I am.  To speak from me.  The real me.  That oft times scared little boy who is afraid of rejection but crying to be heard.

I have something to say.  Something that needs to be said.  For me.  I need to express it, to let it out, to keep it from building pressure from that steam kettle on high heat.

I was abused.  Violated.  Taken advantage of.  At a time and age where I expected (rightfully so) and needed to be supported and protected, I was shamed and humiliated, beaten and bruised, mentally and physically.  And I’m still here.  I was beaten down, yes.  Broken and shattered.  But I still walk.

I am learning a great deal about the indomitable human spirit.  That uniqueness in a vast universe.  Unique and alone maybe in that – but not alone in our suffering.  How we were hurt is so immensely different if you compare notes – but the fact is we hurt.  But we are.  We survived what happened and we manage each day through the depression and the curves and ruts and holes and pits that beset us.

I am still not to where I can call myself a victor.  But I am no longer a victim.  That was then.  Now, though each day is often a struggle, I get through it.  By the grace of God.  By the union with others on this planet who understand pain.  Understand neglect and abuse.  We don’t have to know if we can understand.  [and wow is THAT an awkward sentence]

So much of me is still not at peace with what has happened or what is happening around me.  But I am learning to find peace within myself.  With myself.

And I wish the same for you.

Happy anniversary.


8 thoughts on “anniversary notes

  1. I wish the abuse was a rare story. It isn’t. What is rare is the way you’ve treated hat part of your life and risen above it. You’ve shown such strength of spirit to have overcome that past and to have found the strength to share it, to talk about it, to refuse to let it make you always the victim. Frankly you’re amazing and will be such a teacher to those who haven’t found a way to get through this part of their past.Not to forget it, for something like this can’t be forgotten, but to accept that the fault was not theirs,that they should carry no guilt, that they can get on and make ‘normal; lives for themselves despite this.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, David. Your comments bring a smile to my face and a grimace to my “inner self” that still can’t accept good things. “Strength of spirit” for example. I know in my head it’s true – my heart doesn’t want to own it. Or vice-versa. I’m not sure which is pro and which is con some days. But I thank you. These are some of the things I still deal with. Uphill maybe. But not so much a “battle” now as a struggle. And that is MILES beyond where I used to be.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I think I found you through someone else’s blog, and have been reading everything since. You put the necessary things into words that I am yet unable to say, and I’ve been writing mostly poetry since early 3013.


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