The writing of my book was never intended to be the final journey for me; it was a starting block with two proposes in mind. I truly felt that by writing it all down it would be my surest way to my recovery. The other was a feeling deep within my gut that the path I had walked had to have some purpose. Something good had to emerge from the darkness. So I set about trying to utilize that feeling for the good.
At the off I set up this website so that others had somewhere to come to read to remind them that there is light at the end of the tunnel. The other way rattling around in my brain was to somehow let you hear my spoken words. With this in mind I sat down at my computer, and set about the task of finding any radio show/host that would afford me the good grace of an interview (however small the show) Which I am glad to say I have achieved with some success. Some are available here, others are available on the Google search engine in the archives
Whilst making contact by emailing talk shows I sent an email to a particular lady host. It was strange as it took me some time to find her email address, but something told me to keep looking. Once found I emailed her. Within ten minutes I received an urgent reply, and the response was something I could never have hoped or dreamed of. It seemed that her son had tried to kill himself the previous week, after many years within the mental health system. After a few emails back and forth I rang her on her direct line in New York. She told me that morning she felt she could no longer go on, and that my email had arrived just at the point she was ready to give up. It gladdened my heart to think that my book even in its condensed form was still able to reach out to someone in dire need. The message she received was that no matter how hard it gets, there is light at the end of the tunnel you just need to reach out for it. That deep inside of you can find the strength you need or a hand to hold to walk you towards it. I have emailed her a PDF file of my book and hope this will help her further.
I would like to share with you part of an email I received a few days ago. Reading something like this warms my heart. All the bad days become insignificant in that one moment of time and your life takes on a different meaning. You have once more found a purpose for being. For people like me a survivor they are far more than being just words, they are a life line. I stand in awe of foundations like this and the incredible support they unselfishly give.
I will of course post the piece I have written on my web site when it’s released.
Their direct link http://healmyptsd.com/healing/survivors-speak
If you live your life with a rain cloud over your head, you will never know if it has stopped raining, unless you find the strength to put the umbrella down.
I would like to thank all those people out there for taking the time to contact me through my web site and of course the many blogs that I am a part of. I will never again underestimate the power of the spoken word or the depth of kindness and understanding out there if you dare to look for it. Unfortunately there is always the other side of the coin, but we all have the ability with faith to toss that coin once more into the air . . .
An old Cherokee told his grandson one day about a battle that goes on inside people . . . He told him that the battle was between 2 wolves. One is evil, its anger, envy, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego. The other one is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith. At the end of the story the grandson asks” Which wolf Wins?” The old Cherokee replies “The one which you
Is life about how many breaths’s you take? Or how many times it takes your breath away? If we could only sing like no one can hear us, dance like no one can see us, and love like we have never been hurt.
What I am about to tell you should help clear out any doubting Thomas’s out there, and to expose just how mentally ill this man really was. Sitting there right in the middle of the hankie was a finger. Dropping it I ran to the bathroom, only just making it there in time before throwing up. Sitting there on the toilet floor you could have told me anything, and I would have believed you. This was far beyond the realms of sanity; this was the stuff of horror movies, where at times you had to peep through your fingers. Returning to the bedroom it was still lying there, just where it had fallen. My husband was still there leaning against the doorway. He had cut his finger off? What sort of sick person could do something like that? I was just so angry; attacking my husband verbally, I asked him how he could bring something like that to me? My Stepfather’s hand must have been bandaged, had nothing felt wrong to him about all this? I am sure it wasn’t the first thing to pop into his head; nevertheless he had brought it to me regardless….
When you feel like crying just call me, I can’t promise that I will make you laugh, but I can cry with you. If one day you feel like running away don’t be afraid to call me, I don’t promise to ask you to stay, but I can run with you. If one day you just can’t listen to anyone, call me and I promise to be there for you, but I also promise to remain quiet. But if one day you call me and there is no reply, please come to me quickly, perhaps I need you.
Through the writing my book, I have found the strength and hope to come back from a very dark place. My greatest wish would be to impart that message to others. We can all achieve that. There is a place deep inside of us that remains untapped, unless you reach your lowest point, and allow the soul within you to take hold. Today my outlook on life is so very different, instead of the glass being half empty, the glass is half full.
There is always a light at the end of the tunnel; my aim is to reassure that.
After an accident in which I injured my back, I was ill-health retired. This has given me the time and dedication to put pen to paper. My life was no longer full, and I found myself with an abundance of alone time, to sit and reflect everything I had tried so hard to bury. Although this has been extremely difficult for me, my hope is that anyone finding themselves in the same type of situation may take some strength from its content. If this book were to be catalogued where would it fall, a true account, a personal autobiography or self-help? The real truth is in all three.
Whilst writing, I was forced down a road that I never really wanted to walk again. It’s an insight to the lengths someone will go to achieve their goal. At times I had to walk away to deal with the emotions that it invoked. To say this person was very unhinged would be an understatement. Teetering on the edge of insanity, and crossing over more times than I can count. Where everyone else involved just became fall out. It was as if I were being pursued by the devil himself. Overly more there seemed to be nothing I could do to stop him and the destruction he left in his wake.
The facts within are very hard to believe, but believe it I must because I was there. It’s still incredible to me to think that I came out of it the other side. That said only just. I have spent many years under the mental health care umbrella, while trying to deal with the enormous sociological and psychological residue it has left behind.
He told me that no one would get hurt…… I guess that’s the day that I became no one.
I have been asked many times as to my motivation for writing this book. The answer is twofold. I had to find a way to deal with my demons, which even after all these years, seemed so reluctant to leave. Secondly and I believe just as important, was to reach out to others. It’s easy to think that you are alone in your pain I know I did. You convince yourself, that you’re the only person in the world this could ever have happened to. That in some manner you’re a bad person, only receiving what you are due. My dearest hope, that this book goes some way to dispelling that misconception. I also hope that in sharing my story, people with similar experiences may find some peace within its pages and courage to heal. I would like to think that my book somehow imparts to others, the hope it gave me on its conclusion. I still struggle to find some kind of insight as how to heal the child within me. But it’s long past time that I did so she has suffered enough.