extracted text

Volume l, Number 1

1993
$5 USA; $5.75 outside USA

In Search ofHealing is created by
Jiivanii, Editor
Martha Chambers, Copyeditor
Mazy "Tinker" Colby, Typesetter and Designer
Caro]ynne Colby-Schmeltzer, Typesetter and Designer
Lynn McColl, Proofreader
Kathryn Prince, Sales Representative
Front Cover: When I Let Myself, I Paim - Watercolor painting with ink by Martha Chambers
Editor's Essay: Toward the Far Shore - Pencil drawing by Daniel Wright
Green Pages Cover: At Harne - Ink drawing by Joseph Chavez

Many thanks to:

Arnold and Deborah of Arnold Litho for their unwavering spiritual and :financial support
Wendy Fidao, LlSW, EDD for her generous :financial gift

In Search ofHealing is a publication of the Survivor Press.
All Rights Reseived. Copyright 1993.
Please do not reproduce any part of this publication
without prior pe:rnp.ssion unless for the purpose of review.

•The mission of the SUIVivor Press is
to promote the healing of people
suffering from the effects of sexual abuse,
empower sUIVivors and prosUIVivors,
stimulate communication within the recovery community,
and increase public awareness
of sexual violence and recovery.

The Survivor Press
PO Box30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190 USA
• ''vulneratus, non victus-wounded, not conquered"

In Search of Healing is a periodical
anthology of writing and art for the purpose of
healing sexual abuse. All material is
contributed by people who are in recovery
from child sexual abuse and by their
supporters. Disclosure of the abuse, even from
years ago, is essential to recovery. Through
creative forms, people who are healing can
express the inexplicable.
S9me selections are extremely graphic. All
are written or drawn from the victim's point of
view, presenting a different perspective on
sexual violence than what is usually conveyed
in the mainstream news and art media.
It is critical that these voices be heard in a
simple, compassionate act of bearing witness.

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Editor's Essay:
Toward the Far Shore
Today I read a first person account of a woman who fought for her life and is now recovering from a devastating brain
hemorrhage. She said what so many who have catastrophic health problems say: "This changed my life."
I cried as I read that and realized that I, too, am going through a tremendous life-changing upheaval with recovery from
sexual abuse. I think I'm a survivor twice over, once from the original abuse and again as I go through recovery. Both are
wrenching, profoundly painful experiences.
But, as I unload the destruction from my body and mind, I am becoming aware of a new, genuine psychological wellbeing
I've never known before. This unaccustomed state shows up in many ways, but one in particular strikes me as being especially
rewarding: my changing relationship with other human beings.
One day, I told my spouse of a particularly selfish thing another person said. The succinct response was, "Well, I sure
wouldn't want to be in a flood with her."
I thought about that.
Recovery is a terrible flood of misery and loss, as devastating psychospiritually as when the creek rises. And we all respond,
at times as heroes, at times as jerks. The attitude that some of us deserve to get on the boat and others don't is a heady weapon.
The truth of the matter is that everyone deserves to get on the boat, because we are all human beings. Just check your guns at
the dock, please.
I remember a story I heard years ago attributed to the Buddha, who told a seeker, "The Dharma is like a little boat. Once you
get to the other shore you no longer need it." I didn't understand it, but I thought it was a great image to ponder. The trouble
was, even though I did some powerful pondering, my little boat always stayed moored on this side, and it was empty, too.
I couldn't even see myself in it.
Now, as I thrash about in this terrible flood of memories and
accept the losses, I see not only myself in the boat, but
many, many more people, plus lots of teddy bears
and dogs, cats, birds, goldfish .. . and
we're all rowing, every one of us!
Poet Anne Sexton, both victim and perpetrator,
alluded to "the awful rowing toward God." I think she
must have been rowing by herself, and that is why
she committed suicide. The recovery movement
gives us the opportunity to do this "awful
rowing" together, in the same little boat,
to fulfill our essential nature as
healthy spiritual beings.
And we row, with all our radical differences
and unifying commonalities, our heroism
and jerkiness, through the terrifying
flood, toward the far shore:
toward the God of our
understanding and healing.

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In Search of Healing

Abby Ovitsky
California
I am a survivor of chil,dlwod sexual abuse and have been in therapy a quarter of my life. As my birth and foster
families perpetrated the abuse, and continue w deny it ever happened, I have cut ties with them The hardest part of
healing is supporting myself while I explore the painful menwries. But, if I don't, no one will. Therapy, bodywork,
twelve step and publications like yours help a great deal Isolation has always been part of the abuse.

Moma

Slugger

She stood not five feet.
The shame she dragged around curved spine and tugged at
shoulders. Hair the color of dirty snow thinned like a
blighted lawn in the drought. Bird shaped face and downy
skin covered with the graffiti of life: each worry had
left its
mark, crease, groove,
furrow, pit, gouge,
score, nick, dent.

You packed a mean punch
without raising a hand.
Head blows.
You didn't stop
until the blood ran
out of my ears.

New Toy
I was your ultimate ego trip.
I was your innocence, returned to you.
I thought you were God. And
you thought I was a new toy.

Pickmeup
I am just a little girl. And Daddy is big and strong. Pick me up, Daddy! Pick me up! But Daddy says I am too big. I am too big and
he is too tired and not now.
I am a bigger little girl now. I get on airplanes all by myself. And I am only scared sometimes, like when I am by myself and there
is nobody I know and I don't know what is going to happen next and nobody sees dr hears me. Just sometimes.
Now I am an even bigger little girl. I can decide where I want to live. I don't have to live with Daddy anymore.
There is a strange man. Come with me, he is saying. Why? Where? For how long? I asked. We'll see, he said with a smile, we'll
see. I didn't like his smile, but I didn't know what else to do, so I went with him. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I was scared,
but I didn't tell anybody because I didn't know who to tell.
Would you like to live here with me? asked the man. I didn't know. I guess so, I said. Good, he said, then you will stay. For how
long? Where will I sleep? Will I have my own room? Will you be my Daddy now? But the man just smiled that smile. Then, after a
while, he pulled me onto the bed. What are you doing? I asked him. But the man didn't say anything. He was pulling my shirt off.
Why are you doing that? Why? But the man didn't say anything. I wanted to get away, but he held me down. I cried. Then he
took his pants off. I cried louder. But the man just said be quiet, I cah't concentrate when you are crying. I didn't understand. I
just cried some more. Then there was sticky stuff all over me. I didn't know what it was. When the man was gone and I was
alone, I cried. The man came back again. And again. And I cried and cried. There was no where to go and no one to tell and
nothing to do, so I cried.
Then one day Daddy came. And took me away from the man.

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Christine Kidney
Connecticut
I am a survivor of sexual abuse. At present I am in therapy for this hideous crime that was
committed against me. I wrote the following during one ofmy depressed moods. I showed it to
my therapist and she suggested that I get it published, so other survivors can relate to it.

When you were young you were a big part of your family.
When I was young I was invisible.
When you were young you were bounced on someone's knee.
When I was young I was on someone's knee while he sat there and fondled me.
When you were young when you got hurt you got love and affection.
When I was young and got hurt, I was told not to cry.
When you were young and in trouble, things were talked about.
When I was young and in trouble, I was told to shut up and got slapped across the face.
When you were young you had your childhood friends.
When I was young my friends were taken away from me.
When you were young you were playing with toys.
When I was young I had adults playing with me.
When you were young you had dreams.
When I was young I had nightmares.
When you were young you had your parents' love and support.
When I was young I had silence.
When you were young you knew who you were.
When I was young I was in constant turmoil.
When you were young you had innocent experiences.
When I was young I had experiences that no child should have to experience.
When you were young you had sweethearts, boyfriends.
When I was young I was not allowed, after all, if we kissed, what would we do when we were alone.
As an adult, you have stability.
As an adult I have instability.
As an adult, you can love.
As an adult I don't know how.
As an adult, you see some light.
As an adult I can see only darkness.
· As an adult, you can feel emotions.
As an adult I can't feel.
As an adult, you feel fulfilled and alive.
As an adult I feel empty and dead.

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In Search of Healing

Jill Bensley
California
I am an incest survivor who did not remember the abuse until just two years ago at the age of 44. Since that
time I have been through therapy and the gut wrenching memories that have disclosed the horrors of my
childhood and the formerly blank years when the incest occurred. My father was the perpetrator. He is dead now.
He began the abuse when I was just rrwnths old and continued until I was eight. He also raped and abused my
older sister. She is schizophrenic now and does not remember what happened to her. My family is completely
unsupportive, save my brother, who is 8 years younger. Apparently, he was not abused.
During the most intense part of my healing, I wrote poetry, I now have a 140 page book which I plan to self
publish sometime next year. The poems I enclose are from this body of work. I have enclosed several types of
poems. (I understand that some presses do not like to publish graphic expressions of abuse.) I do not wish to use
a pen name.
I am very happy to see so many new journals and maga..zines appearing exposing the horrors we endured.
Hopefully it will finally bring an end to childhood sexual abuse.

Breakfast At Carl's

Autumn

Sitting here in Carl's this morning
spicy bacon in the air
I see myself
reflected in your shine

Something in the fall shadowed pavement
the oaks mottled in the afternoon sun
errant leaves skipping in the wind
saddens me to the core.

the crooked teeth
shiny, thick hair
M &M eyes
feathery brows, perfectly shaped
your spunk, your kid-ness
a painless version of me

The change of wind
the change of seasons
makes me small, aching in the bones
weary with world knowledge
beyond my young age
the grown-up child
with the tender body
that crumbles in the autumn wind.

Eight years old - the year he stopped
the time henceforth he would try to make it up to me
mademoiselle dolls, expensive toys
jaguars, trips to Italy, clothes allowance ...
you never could, dad
you couldn't make me shine
make my eyes sparkle
my face light up
the way my son's does
this morning in Carl's.

In Search of Healing

(Comfortable napping in my brain
curled like a kitten
childhood incest
mom condoning it
aunts and uncles ignoring it).
Like the layers of an onion
outrage and sadness
deepens with each passing autumn
burrows
down
down
deep down
until it will, someday,
hit bottom.

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Grandma Snake
You slither along
breasts sagging, dragging
loose flesh hanging on brittle bones
like a cheap overcoat.
Snake in the grass
snake in my skull
poised in the space
that tells me who I am what I'm worth.
Ready to strike
fangs puncture my brain
indelible, your poison,
''Dirty, evil girl
Never tell"

The Rules
In order to stay alive
and not disappear,
and being an extremely bright
and alert three year old,
I learned the rules
after only one attack.

I won't, grandma srwke
Naw I'm just like you!

l. Let Daddy put his penis in your mouth.
2. Let Daddy hump you until gooey stuff comes out of his
thing.
3. Let Daddy put stuff in your 'gina til it bleeds.
4. Never tell anyone.
5. Never scream.
6. Never kick or bite or hit him.
7. You may cry quietly, but don't wake anyone.
8. You may tell him you hate him and to stop.
(Of course, he won't.)
9. You must let him do this anytime he comes in the
night.
10. If you don't obey the rules, Daddy will kill you.
11. He does this because you are bad.

Waiting Is The Hardest Part
It wasn't the rapes
that were the hardest part.
I numbed my little body to those.
It was the waiting,
the terror in the night
the question in the reveries before sleep:
Will it be tonight?
Will he scare me into numbness again
with his foul scotch breath
and his sweaty, hairy, heavy body?
His limp/hard/angry dick,
his grabbing hands and raspy voice
Will it be tonight?
Will I make it through the night?
Will I die before I wake?
When will he leave again
and let my little self recover
give me time to numb once more
to allow me to survive and
grow up to be a person
to sleep safely, dream of flowers
and green fields and a childhood
I will never know.

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In Search of Healing

My UttleOne

Reginald L. Walker
New Mexico

I'm so very sorry, my little one
it happened
no, you're not ugly
and there's nothing wrong
with your body.
I'm so very sorry, my little one
they betrayed and abandoned you
I lmow it hurts
but it's all over now
they can never do it again.
I'm so very sorry, my little one
but it wasn't even their fault
they were so mixed up and _unhappy
probably because
somewhere
they hurt just like you.
I'm glad we're grown up now
can control our life
but the ache, the hollow remains
and we need to have it,
you and I, together
so we can be ourselves and grow up.
I'm so sorry, my little one
you deserved none of this
you were so lovely and sweet
worthy of all the love you never got.
I lmow they loved you
as they could
it was just too mixed up
and it was never, never enough.
(no, my little one,
you don't need too much,
you need like a little girl).

I am presently incarcerated at Western New Mex'ico
Correctional Facility. I am a bl,ack male 35 years old,
andjrom 6-11 years o/,d I was a victim of incest by my
mother's twin uncles in Columbus, Georgia. I've only
been writing poetry 2 years on a serious level. And with
pain and courage I've learned to express so many of
these negative feelings I suppressed for over 25 years.
In fact it wasn't until I started writing poetry that I was
able to confront that shameful part ofmy life. The hurt
and pain is still there, but I'm dealing with the issues of
guil4 pity and dejection, and the one question I'll never
have an answer for- Why Me? I grew up a single chi/,d
to a single paren4 my mother. And only recently about
18 months ago did I come clean with her and tell her
about everything, and guess what? Her reaction was
total denial and defense against my cmifession. I'm not
in any type of therapy on a clinical level; my therapy is
my writing of poetry. Writing allows me that inner
peace for dealing with my problem and is aform of
escape from behind these prison walls!

Deaf by Rape
My insides
sing a sad
chorus line
of no feelings.

No words.
No flutes of softness.
No effects of sound.
Justa
mute note
only a
victim can hear.

I love you

I will always
be there.

And what
i heard
was lost
ina tear.

In Search of Healing

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Self Portraits
Anonymous
New Mexico

"WIPE THAT LOOK OFF YOUR FACE!"
I heard that many, many times. What look? I didn't know what I was doing wrong, didn't understand why my face
a?1{J(!~c! t~e1'J'l!_W I'd look down at my feet, try to hide, look blank, look beyond, around, away.

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In Search of Healing

But then l'dforget.
SLAP!

"Don't give me
that
look!"

Miat look?
Maybe the look
on these faces, of my inner kids,
hurting and
wanting

to know
why.

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Why are you hurting me?
Why do you sell me out?
12

Why do you dress me up, like a dol4 disguise me in wigs, makeup, costumes?

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In Search of Healing

Why do you torture, terrorize me into silence?
Why do you do horrible, horrible things at night?
Why is this happening?
Why?

Is that the look that they hated so?
I used to be ashamed that I couldn't really hide my feelings, no matter how I tried.
It still showed.
I don't want to be ashamed anymore. Ever again.

In Search of Healing

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13

Teresa Smith

Dorian Bloom

Kentucky

New Mexico

Look into the mirror
Ofmypast
Broken glass
Distorting life
A little girl
An empty canvas
Smeared with black paint
By a monster who wears glasses
And a tie
Into a portrait of the pain
That I am
Forever
The preacher says forgiveness
Is everything
But how can I forget
The bitterness
The nightmare
That's tattooed in my brain
I can't live up
To what you expect
But someday
I could be
A reflection of your heart.

Shadow Play
Shadows
steal into deadbolted chain-locked
rooms guarded by
watchers who look
the other way
Shadow Play
throws silhouetted fear
walls of my gingerbread
house built
of
story-time with Daddy

Age3
Mommy was there
ever an upper room
with pretty yellow wallpaper and .
a slanted ceiling where me and brother played Raggedy
Ann and Andy for hours and hours when we
didn't know where we were
and I wondered when you'd come for us
Mommy was there
ever a man in dark brown pajamas who
stood in the doorway of a strange
room where I was sleeping and
handed me my Raggedy
which had fallen on the floor
Mommy was there
ever really a Raggedy Ann
and did I really not mind it that
she kept smiling even with
the semen in her hair and
the nickels on my pillow

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In Search of Healing

The Innocent
Storytellers and Poets
have told us
the Unicorn comes

daddy daddy
and virgin voices
are smothered
in obeisance
and terror
of
losing daddy

to the innocent
in dreams and fairy tales
the Unicorn appears
from far off worlds
and magical dimensions
to baptize the purity
of the innocent
storybook virginal
princess waiting
for her fairy tale
stolen held hostage ransomed always
in the nick of time
the Unicorn comes
with uncompromised surety
bows majestic at her feet
to sanctify the purity
she is innocent
and her charming prince in shining armor
is assured the glass-slippered
snow-white sleeping beauty
is worthy
is innocent
permitted to live
Happily Ever After
But I know that
Happily Ever After
is a crock of shit
I found out Once
Upon A Time that
Happily Ever Afters
do not come to those
who cannot claim a
beginning and Once Upon A
Time is mired in
bed-time nightmare
where the Unicom never appears
to little princesses
in semen-stained panties smelling
of daddy

In Search of Healing

daddy daddy
but Christ I need
to believe in the Unicorn
that comes to virgins and children
even if I was never either
If I can believe
in the Unicom I can believe
in innocence
and the magic
of being unafraid

and maybe if I
wish real hard
I can find the place
inside me
that is
innocent
and maybe just maybe
I can whisper from the silence
that I believe the Unicorn will come
and I will see the gentle eyes
and sure-footed strength
of unabashed purity
and I will dare to call it
innocence
and I will know
those eyes are mine

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Yasmin Spencer
New Mexico
Througlwut my fourteen years of life I have been
abused immensely. I hope my poetry can be
appreciated and understood.
I don't mind my name or age being put on any of
my poems. I would like it if I were to receive any
response orfeedback for my work. This took me a lot of
courage.

CAN YOU SEE ME
WITHOUT THIS MASK I PORTRAY
THAT LAYS SO THICK THAT WHEN
YOU THINK YOU'VE FOUND ME
YOU'VE MERELY FOUND ANOTHER MASK
THERE'S NOTHING MUCH TO SAY
CAN YOU FEEL ME
WHEN YOU LIE IN BED AT NIGHT
FEEL MY EYES UPON YOUR BRUISED BODY
AND KNOW THE TRUE YOU
WILL YOU KILL ME WHEN YOU KNOW ME
OR WILL YOU SCREAM IN HAPPINESS
EITHER IS ALRIGHT WITH ME
I AM SUCHA MESS

IT'S COLD IN THIS DARK ROOM
BUT NOT AS COLD AS YOU
I'M TRAPPED IN THIS DARK ROOM
ALL I CAN SEE IS YOU
I DIED IN THIS DARK ROOM
WHEN YOU RIPPED MY HEART IN TWO
I WAS RAPED IN THIS DARK ROOM
I WAS RAPED BY YOU
YOU WILL DIE IN THIS DARK ROOM
I WILL KILL YOU

AS I SCREAM I CLUTCH TO MY VALUES
WHICH WERE TORN FROM ME
AS WELL AS MY CLOTHES
HOW COULD ONE THING TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME
HOW CAN THIS SELFISH RAPIST DO THIS TO ME
ALL MY DIGNITY TORN AWAY
HOW COULD YOU CUT MY BREASTS
AND MAKE ME FEEL LIKE NOTHING
HOW DARE YOU SAY I'M WORTHLESS
FOR YOU ARE LESS THAN ME
HOW DARE YOU KILL MY SOUL
THAT USED TO SING SO FREE
I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU HAVE DONE
I HOPE YOU LIVE IN PAIN
I HOPE YOU DIE AN AWFUL DEATH
AND LIVE YOUR LIFE IN SHAME

WILL YOU CRY WHILE IN MY ARMS
OR WILL YOU LAUGH INVAIN
FOR NEITHER WOULD YOU FEEL ALONE
AND THERE WOULD BE NO SHAME

THOUGH I'M NOT DEAD, I AM DEAD SHE SAID
FOR THERE WAS NOTHING TO SAVE HER NOW
TRAPPED IN A WHOLE MADE OF HER
HOW SHE LONGS TO BE SOMETHING MORE
TRAPPED FULL OF HERSELF AND NOTHING ELSE
HOW SHE LONGS TO BE WITH SOMEONE ELSE
REALlZING T~T WHAT SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS
SHE IS NOT
SHE SIGHED AND SAID, I AM SO ALONE
WITHOUT MYSELF

16

YOU GAVE ME MY EYES
MY EYES OF ICE
YOU GAVE ME MY CLAIM
MY CLAIM IS INSANE
YOU GAVE ME MY NAME
MY NAME IS SHAME
YOU GAVE ME MY FEAR
TO SEE YOUR FACE
YOU GAVE ME THE TERROR
OF THAT HELPLESS EMBRACE
BUT ALL YOU GOT WAS ME

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In Search of Healing

TELL ME WHAT I AM TO SAY
TELL ME HOW I AM TO FEEL
WHEN NOTHING EVER IS FOR ME
TELL ME WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO BE
TELL ME WHAT SHOULD SHELTER ME
WHEN THERE'S NO ONE HERE FOR ME
TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE IN ME
TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW OF ME
THERE ISN'T ALL THAT MUCH OF ME

TIRED

1

I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN HATE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN FEAR
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN PAIN
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN SHAME
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN BLAME
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING A LIE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF BEING ALIVE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT RESPECT
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT FAITH
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT

TO HEAR THE WHISPER OF THE WIND
AND FEEL THE SOFT BREEZE
ALL MAKES ME FALL IN LOVE
WITH ALL I HAVE IN ME

In Search of Healing

Celeste Torra
Massachusetts

Grandfather's Hands
-for Anne
a friend spoke of a grandfather
when she of missing baby teeth and
long pony tails sat on the lap of this man
this father of her father she studied
his hands
tiny soft fingers traced
the thick purpley-blue veins in
his hands of strength
the keepers of story
twin gods that protected her
and tickling brought laughter to
her eyes
when later she ( of braces
and responsibility)
learned with tears
and leaden heart that
the grandfather died
she was content with
the remembered love of
his hands
another she also had a grandfather
when she of missing baby teeth and
long pony tails sat on the lap of this man
this father of her father she studied
his hands
tiny fingers learned to trust
his hands of strength
twin gods that betrayed then hurt
and brought no laughter
callous gods of anger
which made secrets to be kept in
her eyes
when later she ( of braces
and responsibility)
learned with tears
and sorrowful heart that
the grandfather died
she regretted she did not have
the memory of love of
his hands

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After Ufe

Good Morning

lor my grandlather

wake up, girl
and pull out your pony tails - put on a pair of pants under
that dress and make the belt extra tight Don't look at the
ceiling when he's on top of you
(heavyanddroolingspitoutthesideofhismouth) stare right
into his dead lights and show him you're stronger (maybe
it'll scare him) Stand stronger still when he takes you to the
woods - kick him in the balls and smack the star-shaped
wallet to the ground when he offers you quarters as ransom
for you soiled childhood KICK and HIT and SCREAM LIKE
HELL when he puts his hot tongue in your small ears and
when he sneaks it between your legs box his sorry ears with
your knees Don't surrender to his age and size Spit and tell
him you don't blame grandma for not letting him
touch
her
anymore
when they dress you for your birthday OON'T be their little
lady (pinkandlaceyitchingallday) Storrip your feet and kick
their shins and insist on BLACK Scream all the way
( overtheriverandthroughthewoods) to Grandfather's house
and tell them when they ask "why"
that
he's
going
to
FUCK
you
tell them with no tears and quivering lip that he's going to
reach up your pretty little skirts and inside your lace
panties (aren 'ttheyjustadorable?)
and pull of his brown slacks
and he's going to fuck you in the very next room just
like he has been since before you could walk
or curtsey
or dance like a proper ballerina-child
or tattle
YELL and SCREAM and pull out their hair and be really
fucking angry that they were too blind to see him FUCKING
their daughter (intheverynextroom)
so for now quit crying and get mad because you served
more and tears will get you nowhere Remember that pain
and save it for a rainy day
when you can call them all on killing you.

18

Yesterday I hated you,
wanting fire to consume you and pain to control you.
Your hands tore my childhood from me,
your lips kissed away carefree innocence.
The secrets you had planted in my heart
tore in thorns and blood at my soul,
and I was expected to love you.
Today you were lain before me,
and I struggled to understand you.
Your prickly cheeks were sunken in,
your eyes were dead and
your heavy shoes thrown into a Salvation army bin.
Under my scrutiny you were still your lips quiet and unthreatening,
your calloused hands drained of their former power.
Free from your fettering command I see you
and finally you live to me.
I hear your mourning song of desperate dissonance.
I see your dreams covered in dust and sprinkled with
burning sorrow.
I feel your thirst for time and contentment,
and I'm no longer expected to love you.
*

*

*

So now my heart is torn
between wanting to love you and not having to.
I have no fear of your hurtful hands
or your pitiful eyes.
If I can understand you,
why do I still fear you late at night or when I see Grandma struggling to be done with you?
I can't escape you I visit your house, I carry your wallet.
My father is your son,
complete with the scars you gave him.
Your smile, your chin, your hairline
stare at me in unison from my mirror.
I can't forget you, or the pain you included us in.
I lost my chance to hate you to scream in your saddened face and
tear out your thinned hair.
You left me alone to figure you out I want to love you.
I want to feel that you loved me.
I want to be able to forgive you.
I want to feel that I'm whole.
And I want to take back what you took away.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Vickilpn
California

\

In Search of Healing

Number 1

19

...
\ ;. .

.

.·.· ,#

_,. .·

My Bed
20

Number 1

In Search of Healing

C.U. Lley
United Kingdom
These poems are but afew of many,
which have accumul,at;ed over the years.
/shan't bore you with exp!,anations
of whys and whens.

Box at Christmas
Cold, grey and wet
A birthday dress
Just for you to see
Just two of the memories
I cannot forget
Of a past full of
You and me

GOD made man
Followed closely by woman
Then got bored
So He made me.

Cattle market trips
And five a.m. calls
With me, day after day.
The smell of your lips
And _my back against walls
How I wish they would go away

Sick of His perfections,
Vent His frustrations.
What a result.

But I know you're still out there
Living and free
I wonder
If I told you
What you had done
Would you care?
And tell me
What was done
With that large part of me?

Poured rage from above,
Insults galore,
Despised all around,
So the outer
Is hardened
Penetrate THAT if you will.
Truth is, you did.

You don't build sandcastles in the snow
Yet I tried.

You've scaled the perimeter wall
The barbed wire all torn down
My defences destroyed
I'm afraid
What now?

It took time
For the sun to come out
But it shined.

To take power
Or
Live with the occupant
Will you obliterate
What little is left?
Or allow it to breathe.

My sandcastle
It melted
I found a little beach now
Not much
Many stones
The foundations are started
Soon the tide will turn
Will it reach this far?

The barbed wire wasn't there
To keep you out
- But me in.

In Search of Healing

Maybe this time I'll get to finish.

Number 1

21

I don't want your sweet words
even if they were offered.
What use?
Not that it mattered
they, alone, can't help now.

My breath is frozen
on the windowpane.
Winter is here, again.
Sorrow and tears are cold,
the fire spits along with the cat,
the sun is going.
Funny really, I should have seen it coming.

To want a revenge
would be an obvious attack,
one you expect
but that's the little you know of me.
Just to tell ofmy life
and what it means
and show you small people
would do.
What are you hiding from?

My head is wandering again.
No. Not to worry,
not from you
or indeed away,
just wandering.
I sit, stand
but it's up and gone.

My way hurts no one.

From as small as I recall
it's done this.
It paces to and fro,
enters lands, unseen
and untrave~ed;
yearns,
to see and do
so, so much more.

A million avenues, roads and dead ends
To collate
Ten thousand two hundred and fifty days
A collection of
People and words
Though mostly backs and glares
Ran abroad
Just sham
Few cares
Taken for a ride
Almost won
You've brought it around
A new file begun
How will it close?
Open, shut, gone
Or continues on and on.

Mundane tasks of life
to be completed,
mechanically,
consumes much of real time.
Ifit must be
then at least my thoughts may be my own.

What possessed people
to build on a ball
that turns upside down every day?
To live on a planet
that's only half lit
and made from water and clay.
What possessed people
to make war
and destroy.
Don't they know a better way?

22

Number 1

In Search of Healing

For you,
I'll be a wife. The one I believe,
you'd want me to be.

I've seen the clowns right up close
Kids on an elephant
And laughed

For kids,
I'll be a mum. As I see it,
the one they need.

I've seen Stonehenge on a beach
Avebury stones, Silbury hill
And laughed

For them,
I'm the daughter,
they'd rather not see.

I've seen the sea
And driven a car
Face painted animals
And laughed

Then if there's time,
and a bit left over,
I'll be me.

Who am I?
and what for?
I ask, again and again.
Who has the key?
to unlock each mind.
Here stands, today
so proud and erect,
leaning heavily
on the problems of yesterday.
Holding back
the impending doom of tomorrow.

I've teed off with apples
And rode my own bike
Seen gliders galore
And laughed
I've seen an airport and planes
With bellies so huge
And Harrods and London
And laughed
I

In three months I've seen a lifetime
It will last me for mine
And laughed enough for us all
An open door that was shut for
How long?
I laughed in my heart so loud the whole wodd should have heard

Surely body and mind
age in pace,
yet years have passed,
gone so fast,
the 'phone had a voice
yet no one spoke.
If it's all so easy
why cry?
The parcels were labelled.
One fell off.

The small, narrow man
with the large smiles
grins senselessly.
At a flower.
Unaware,
the flower buds,
blossoms,
blooms,
then dies.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

23

Cynthia Diamond
New Mexico
/first ''rememhered" my sexual abuse ahout 3 years ago. I ccmtinue to have memories th.at bring me closer to
validating my abuse. /feel th.at I have been steadily healing from the wounds caused by my molestatum, but I am by no
means through with the process.
Writing plays a very important part in my healing and growth. It enahles me to look back and see how far I have
come. It also helps me validate the ahuse and its effects because I have trouble believing th.at it happened. I tend to
minimi,ze the incest. When I see the words on paper and feel intensely ahout what I read, I can qffe,rm my experience.
I want to deny the fact th.at I was sexually molested because I have so much shame ahout it. A big part ofme
"knows" it must have been my faul4 th.at I asked for it. My shame makes it very difficult for me to acknowledge that I am
a sexual being, th.at I have sexual feelings, th.at sexuality is a normal part of being huma~t to mention the terror
and shame I feel ahout having a sexual relationship with another person!
Not being ahle to claim my sexuality also means th.at I have difficulty with intimacy. I struggle with wanting to feel
whole, wanting to claim all ofme, but not wanting to acknowledge th.at sexuality is even part of life. Yet even here I see
progress.
I am always amazed when the mament comes when I notice that I have ceased to struggle, or am ahle to make a
conscious decision to let go of something that has been painful and terrifying for as long as I can remember. Then I
know that all my years in therapy, the 5 weeks I spent in treatment last year because of my severe depression, and all
the hours of writing, drawing, walking for miles, talking to supportive friends have paid off
I wrote ''Full Moon Torment" and ''Refuge" in the first year I was remembering my incest. ''Memories" and ''Witch
Mother" were written in the past six months. I have been struggling with an eating disorder and with intense anger
toward my motherfor not caring for or protecting me. I wrote ''I'm Budding" recently with two friends ofmine. The
title was takenfrom my response to an im;:uiryjrom my poetjriend as to how I amfeeling ahout my process, my life at
this moment. I wanted to include it as an affirmation th.at I am finally feeling hopeful ahout life even though growth is
painful, after years offeeling intense despair, hopelessness ahout life and wishing daily to die.

Memories
Remember the apartment in Las Cruces
when she turned on the kitchen light
and the cockroaches were thick
as the winter coat on a collie?
She couldn't even see the dirty linoleum.
You called the Orkin Man and the next day
he sprayed the whole house
but when the cockroaches were gone
she could see the dirty linoleum.
You made her promise she would never
let the floor get so filthy again
both of you spent all weekend
on hands and knees
scrubbing until your eyes burned and your fingers ached
from the cleansing of the floor.
That linoleum hadn't looked so blue
since the day it was installed
years of grime, grease,

24

layer upon layer
like rings on a tree trunk
giving away its age
or like the unshed tears in her soul
layer upon layer,
a numbness learned in childhood.
You made her promise she would never
let her soul get so numb again
both of you spent all weekend
on your hands and knees
crying until your eyes burned and your fingers ached
from the cleansing of her soul.
Her eyes hadn't looked so blue
since the day she was born,
her soul scrubbed clean
like the floor,
after all those years of being walked on.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Full Moon Torment
Awake, it's three a.m.
Weary yet I sense the persistent
pulsing of lunar tension a tidal surge.
Conception.
Gestation of thought, action, feeling
tugs at head and heart and hands.
Between the worlds,
now consciousness slips beneath my sheets
and lays cold hands on my trembling breast.
I have been dreaming.
SEX
A shameful issue as far back as memory recalls.
Baskets of elusive, lackadaisical serpents
cunningly announce their presence
curling scaly covered vertebra through recesses marrow deep.
SEXUALITY
Not romantic, proud, deserving.
Not morning glory soft desire.
Not shameless seduction - Pleasure Palace Queen,
lascivious fulfillment life's sole objective.
Instead, a subtle endured harassment
enmeshed, interwoven;
snakes are not contained by basket boundaries.
Invade.
Provoke.
My own desires illusory from the start,
my body's natural appetites are fugitives
daring not to show their faces
for fear of capture or of blame.
Shame of my existence.
SEX
Most often performed at HIS command;
enacted out of duty,
the only valid pose in which to satisfy my need for touch.
SEX
A moment of acceptance, my accolade.
SEX
Insistent. Extracted by his sheer persistence
like impacted teeth
tom from bound-up roots.
Or a mechanical obsession with a singular mission:
"I want a baby."
Years of hoping, timing, fucking.
Desireless other than of conception.
There was less shame in that,
a feat with loftier ambitions.
SEX

HE: "I want you"
HE: "Show me that you love me"
HE: "You owe me"
HE: "My manhood is at stake"
Serpentine threats.
Active in the cool night shade.
Demanding. Cold.
Determined to invade my warmth.
I feared intrusion as a child,
checking potties before alighting,
anxious that haughty reptilian heads
would violate the integrity of my sacred spaces.
And again I'm haunted on this full moon eve
by ghosts in snake-like garb.
My stomach knots are decades taught,
the shame binds like tar to rigging,
impervious to corroding brutal elements.
Vermin.
In tonight's dream they are insistent as a husband.
Forcing me to open reluctant eyes,
unlock those rusty closet doors.
Compelling me to peel off sticky tar
exposing shameful memories,
the salty spray corrodes outdated shrouds
and penetrates the ancient wounds.

HARASSMENT

In Search of Healing

Number 1

25

Witch Mother, Bitch Mother
Demonic goddess devoured me
while still inside her womb;
Witch Mother, stupid fucking Bitch Mother.
Betrayed by life, herself,
she sucked away my breath for her survival.
Too weak. Ignorant and fearful.
Or perhaps betrothed to her perfectionistic ways
my human imperfections were too much for her to bear. •
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
striving for control, out of stark terror
devoured me.
Am I a soul in search of body?
Ice cream binges
Sacred rituals performed to invoke the loving Mother
bring forth instead the witch.
Betrayal is her only game.
Possessed by Sweet creamy stuff
I long to know her love; secure protection.
Alas, betrayed once more
the empty box reflects the hollow in my soul.
I tried in vain to exorcise the witch.
What hindered completion of the gagging act?
I wanted that Bitch poison out.
"Get out of me, I'll die" I screamed.
The lie of the loving mother,
the sacred ritual pretending to be guided by Eros,
my starving spirit is fooled by the false promise of satiation
only to be annihilated by the witch's creamy brew.
Poison.
The lethal binge.
The more I eat, the hungrier I become
. . . . . eating my heart out.
Mechanical, driven by the darkness,
A demon.
Beyond my control.
For the hundredth time I slip the ice cream past myself,
Devour it in isolation.
The initial calm,
then ecstasy, turns sour
curdles in my gut.
Demonic.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
masquerading as my savior.
Spoonful after spoonful I swallow down my panic,
possessed by need for you,
I cannot turn to see
the witch you really are
that is now a part of me.
Fundamental rejection:
Nothingness is always nothingness.

26

Abandonment.
Witch mother
her devouring ways were meant to nourish me;
the promise of her loving presence
was never to be had.
Binges.
Magnetic.
The ice cream draws me ever nearer.
I am hurled headlong into unconsciousness.
The wolf prowls. The emptiness gnaws.
The sacred ritual is once again enacted.
Quickly, surreptitiously, the forbidden stuff is sucked down
just as the witch mother sucked me down
to fill her empty soul.
I become the very thing I despise.
Tomorrow I will say NO to the witch.
I must FAST.
I will not
I can not ingest her poison again.
I would sooner starve than die that way.
Discipline and control forcing my filthy body
towards the light
the purity of nonexistence. ·
The binge is now the fast,
the lighter my body is
the higher I will fly.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
to you I was only a thing.
The FAST.
One bite of any food
brings certain death.
Indifference.
The rites of full and empty.
As long as I am an object I can choose
whether to enter life or not.
I am in control.
To eat is to enter into matter,
possibly against my will
certain abdication of control.
God did not degrade Herself by bec;oming flesh;
She was not born,
She did not die,
She never lived on Earth.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother.
Dare I incarnate?
Dare I allow my spirit into this matter called my body?
Dare I replace my desire for crucifixion
with a passion for life?
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
Dare I go against your selfish demonic wish

Number 1

In Search of Healing

and become myself?
Dare I discover the deep, rich love of being alive?
I am at a crossroad.
The safety and familiarity of
unconscious destruction
draws me back as surely
as surrender to my Selfand lifebeckons through the darkness.
The journey seems a nightmare
I have seen the shadows lurking.
Dare I trust that which is most untrustworthy
and feels like certain demise?
To find the stillness at the center of the whirlp90l
And know that life is born through death
is such a contradiction.
Can I endure the mysteries of transformation
where contradiction becomes the paradox?
Destruction and release
the spiral is the dance,
the being is always the becoming.
Can I surrender and allow my life to happen?
Unbound by tense control.
Can I trust that still point at the center
while tossed about inside this birth canal?
Finding the paradoxical comfort
of the unknowable and inconsistent
is trusting, knowing my connection to the goddess.

I'm Budding
C
M
S
C
M
S
C
M
S
C
M
S

I am budding from a closed green stern
struggle is flooding my molecules
saying goodbye to my wall is forever,
the essence, acrid yet sweet.
It's after midnight and I'm climbing for the moon,
I'm stepping on leaves of madness and ecstasy
my heart screams like raven in flight.
Goodbye to my mother, goodbye to boxes of green plums.
Has anyone wondered who I am?
My tongue, a chrysalis at birth,
a green flag of a moth whirring out like a question mark
I mingle, I envy, I hurt, I twinge outside the green stern.

Cynthia, Mary, Steve

Refuge
Anger is my refuge now. Years of numbness, oblivious to my SELF, I lived a life defined by patriarchal base brutality. Early on I
donned a mask, a smiling, pleasiM, little girl facade to hide the fear and shame that grew inside. Anger - an alien housemate
who moved in after numbness was awakened and packed her bags to leave. The unconscious path I trod - I could not bear to
feel the pain - until I courageously changed my course and fled the gruesome scene, was free at last. Then the truth of violation
was almost too much to bear, it was so clear. The pain of self denial and self hatred erupts in wrath and ardent self protection
now. I learn each moment that I can not afford to subject myself to one more hideous encounter with the undeserved abuse. My
anger keeps me alive - a vigilante for my soul, saving me from violation that for a lifetime I believed was my inheritance. No
more!! Guerilla warfare, a grassroots activism fed by rage, a healthy sign, this fight for life. Last autumn I wished for cancer,
wintertime I prayed for deadly accidents, this spring - drowning. Anything to end the pain. Now it's summer and I'm crusading
for my SELF, my own reality. I'm through living out my father's shameful lies, my mother's unsparing betrayal, my partners'
brutal words and deeds: they almost t_ook my life. Now when fear and shame take hold and coil their moist familiar tentacles
around my gut, I remember my precious child and fierce protection takes the helm. Protection long denied, never experienced
in parental care, must be taken on by me . . .. I scream out my rage and hold that child to my breast.
So, for this all consuming point in time anger is my refuge, until I have reclaimed my beloved child, my glory, my life. Then
perhaps forgiveness and compassion will find a place to grow in ground made fertile by my rage.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

27

Patty Stinson
California

The Silence
28

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Sheryl Blasnik
New Jersey
I am an ''Adult Survivar" ofIncest. This writing depicts my merrwries and feelings. I wou/,d like the opportunity to
share my feelings with others who have had similar experiences.
At this point I have read about 20 self-help books, and after awhile all the facts begin to sound alike. Not t,o negate
anyone's pain, but I wou/,d like to share my facts through rhyme.

Invisible Stranger

Once

In a large room that taunts and mocks stir the transparent and
vaporous souls of ancient strangers, souls masked by a dismal
sheen of smoke hanging heavily in the air like an aqueous
cloud resting on a mountain road in a mist-shrouded rain . ..

Staring at the flickertng flames aglow
An irtdescent dancing stirs my mind
Deeply consumed in labyrinths of thought
Searching for the me I cannot find

Myriad shadows surround and encompass but never touch;
hollow echoes resonate from thick paneled walls but are never
heard; light l>E:comes the insidious trespasser unable to reach
the opaque silhouette at the other side of the labyrinth ...

Once my mother's blight-eyed baby girl
Her eyes shimmered a majestic reflection
I took my first step, spoke my first word
Each achievement an enchanting perfection

Cold tombstones flaunt no markings of the apparition impaled
in a dark and bleak abyss; the mirror devoid of reflection
seems to shun the lost souls, Ancient smells of the sea linger
in the stagnant air .. .

I left her side to grow in mind and body
Separate by the light of day and night
I felt I was completely part of her
And, in her eyes, I knew I'd be alright

A venom permeates the ethereal souls lurking behind a cloak
of malignant pain. What's to become of the forgotten
strangers whose souls have been scorned and lost forever in a
legacy of affliction and deceit?

Eager I would not be seen or heard
By those who were supposed to protect
I would never stray all that far alone
Frtghtened by harm or neglect
Now the caricature of an adult
Struggling with the role I am to play
No longer defined by childhood
I ask myself, "WHO AM I ANYWAY? ? ? "

In Search of Healing

Number 1

29

Ari.en-on-the-Mountain
New Mexico

Power In The Word

I found the remembering of prescfwol rape to be a
distinctly nagging phenomenan.
I had brought patterns of defiance and depressian
into aduUfwod but could never trace my dyefunctianal
behavior to anything specific. I defended my shark's
tooth temper as the best si,gn of integrity I could come
up with . .. an intuitive awareness that I had survived
in spite of . .. what?
I didn'tfust suddenly remember. Memories crept
up an me over a period of years - just a little piece of
the past at a time, nagging me to remember.
lVhen the pieces didfinally come together, itfelt too
mystical and bright to express in mere language.
''Power in the Word" tries, however, to express one
of the dynamics offorgetting prescfwol rape: the simple
fact that there is no language available to the
preschooler - and witfwut words upan which to hang
the experience, it slips, instead, into oblivian.
"Com:num Ground" celebrates the emergence of two
women in their 50's after their two separate lifetimes of
buried rage. Each of us was di,gging up the memories of
her own prescfwol rape at the time of our meeting. It
seemed an appropriate crossing of paths, a merging of
our separate experiences, indeed, into one comman
ground.

a word
keeps coming up like a haunting

Ot's the things that are buried that haunt you)

INCEST! INCEST!
and at the same time the gray gesture
of a memory
appears in the periphery
just a quarter turn away like a haunting
they move toward each other
with magnetic attraction
(the memory and the word)
five minutes?

five years?

till they finally merge
as if they belong
to each other
as if they belong
to
me
a quarter tum to the right
and i'm eye to eye
with a shadow
that finally has a word
for
itselfa memory that's been buried
to the brow
till now
in a childhood's midnight
of pre-language
butnowit has a mouth for speech
a brain - a rage
and tears to flood
thepageaname:
INCEST!
and that's when
the haunting
ends
and that's when
the healing
begins

30

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Common Ground
(To Margaret Randall)
(With special thanks to David Budai, archeology student)

TONIGHT
IS ELECTRIC BLUE
ON BASIC BLACK
YOU'VE CUT YOUR HAIR
AND THE TURQUOISE SHARDS
I'VE SEEN YOU WEAR
SUCH COUNTLESS TIMES
HANG FROM YOUR EARS
LIKE JOURNAL ENTRIES
YOU MIGHT HAVE WRITTEN
WHEN OUR PATHS FIRST CROSSED
IN THE THUNDER OF OUR ANCIENT RAGE A BURIED HERITAGE
OF PRESCHOOL RAPE
ANDDEFIANCETHATCAME
AFTER
WE ARE UNCOMMON
IN OUR DIFFERENT WAYS VESSELS ETCHED
WITH ZIGS AND ZAGS
AND FILLED WITH THE GRIT
OF AGES
WE ARE NOT FRAGMENTS SCATTERED
IN THE ASHES OF A FRIENDLY CAMPFIRE
WE ARE THE WHOLE POTS FOUND
IN BURIAL SITES THAT SERVE
THE DEADENED CHILD WHO WAITS WITHIN
FOR VISIBILITY
CREDIBILITY
VISION
WE ARE THE TOMB
AND WE ARE THE FRAGILE CRAFT
AND WE ARE THE CHILDREN
WAKING

In Search of Healing

Number 1

31

Clafa Forest
California
It's hard to think that anyane woul,d be interested in my poems, much f,ess my history, because I have accomplished
rwthing as an adull and have always lived alane, secluded from people even at work. I have been seeing a therapist
three times a weekfor aver four years, which has often been the only thing that's kept a suicidal gesture from becoming
a succeseful, attempt.
My father was my perpetrator. He violated me incessantly until I l,eft home 13 years ago. Now I am almost 40, have
rw chil,dren, and most probably never will I am surprised I have lived this long and, sadly, still enjoy virtually rwthing.
Nevertheless, I ask that all your readers keep up the fight to heal. We must do what we can to make tomorrow easierfor
ourselves a:nd more welcoming and gentf,e for all the chil,dren to come.

1963

Before and After

I remember almost nothing about being young
Except things like President Kennedy,
And then the dark horse on the snowy black
And white screen, the tall boots
In the stirrups, and the beautiful wife
Crying and petting her kids. I laid
On the floor, close to the coffin;
No one cared that I cried for the nation
Or that I was little. That I was a girl was the thing
That mattered to the whole United States
The very least of all.

Before she was permitted to grow her hair long,
She had a fairytale, wandering mane,
Pale as a gasp, soft as the perversion
Of a priest touching children.
Before she could speak, she was the scream of a horse
Drowning in fire; she was a shrieking handful of hair
Yanked out within the blink of an eye.

I knew all about the president crying
When his wife lost the baby. I pictured my dad
Crying if I'd died like that, innocent,
Before he discovered that dark secret place,
Before he slapped me because it was evil and mine:
I kept thinking about that somewhere, warm under my dress.
The president suffocating under the ground.
I worried about the pretty horse •
Catching cold in the snow.

32

Before she left the belly of a large, tranquil mare,
She was pulp mashed by the sun, she was blood in the lung.
Something tubercular from China, a stallion from India
With skin thin as silk, criss-crossed with veins.
Before she tasted anything, she was milk dribbling
From the lips of a large man; every night she smelled her blood
Cool on his fingers and his sex arching upwards
Against the slopes of her thighs.
After she escaped his red house of torment:
She lived by a river on the silvery moon.
She lives there still, small as a thimble,
Sleeps in a flower that closes tightly each evening;
She sips nectar as if from a breast
Breathing soft love sounds and sighs.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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1-800-851-9100
Books, tapes, pamphlets

Full Circle Books

2205 Silver SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-266-0022 TDD 266-0026
Feminist, lesbian/gay, recovery books,
music, jewelry

Newsland Book Store
2112 Central SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-242-0694
Across the street from the university

CRuth

Vicki Chandler DC
Cooperative Chiropractic

Cohen

cg_
u4ttom!J al £Faw

Estate Planning, Family & Disability Law
Emphasis on Legal Rights for Women

Serenity Shop

3401 San Mateo NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-889-0885
Books, cards, gifts to help in recovery

CBIBOPBACTOBS

lawyer t\dveniument

9204 Menaul NE, Suite 2
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-296-1390
Emphasizing comfort for the fragile
patient
Helen D'Esposito, D.C.

4300 Carlisle NE Suite 2
Albuquerque, NM 87107
505-888-484 7
Light force chiropractor and
nutritional counseling

123 Richmond Drive SE • Albuquerque, NM 87106 • 256-7742

Lamos Chiropractic

Surv 1v1 ng Ch1 l dhood
Sexual Assault?
For a 50 page catalogue of helpful
books, please send $2.00 to:

Full Circle Books
2205 S1lver SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106

..... ---

~~ 8~1£1ffce,4,

your ad

in
this
space

01,BIBDll'QJIOUS:as
American Self-Help Clearinghouse

St. Clares-Riverside Medical Center
Pocono Road
Denville, NJ 07834
201-625-9565, 201625-8848 (fax)
Sourcebook National Directory

Books, Cards,
Gifts and Medallions
to help in recovery .

The Serenity Shop
3401 San Mateo NE
/1 block south of Comanche)

Albuquerque, NM 87110
(505) 889-0885

the green pages

255-0677
3205 Central NE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-255-0677

DR HELEN D'ESPOSITO P.C.
CHIROPRACTOR

Holistic Health Care
Kinesiology • Nutrition • Injury Rehabilitation
4300 Carlisle NE, Suite #2
Albuquerque, N.M. 871CY7

"caveat emptor I buyer be'W(J.re"

(505) 888-4847

3

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

DIDCTO:am& (cont'd)

Tiu Green Pages
Directory of Sundoor/PrMundoor
Resources
Survivor Press
PO Box 30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190 USA
$20 quarterly, $5 sample

CHIROPRACTIC
Without The
''Crack/Pop!••

Jl&TDIG Dl80BDml8

Especially for the
apprehensive or fragile patient:
Low Force & Non-Force techniques
that emphasize patient
comfort AND results.

National Association of Anorexia
Nervosa and Associated Disorders
PO Box 7
Highland Park, IL 60035
312-831-3438
Newsletter, reading list

LINDEN

GAllDS

.....................................

WITH
COUPON

First Treatment is $35, Including
Both Exam And Adjustment

Kathy Ulrich, D.C.

WITH
COUPON

Vicki Chandler, D. C.

9204 Menaul NE #6 • 296-1390

Survivors' Therapy Game
Lynn Erickson MA LPC
13339 N. Central Expwy. "'104
Dalla'I, TX 75243
817-794-1730

GLASS, 8T.lllllll) 4' LJIADD
Linden Studio
Custom Stained and Etched Glass
Albuquerque, NM
505-877-6972

GUJIS'l'llOOMS
COMICBOOKS

D:aJITIST8

TurtleBoy and Jet the WonderPup

Bill Wolfe, DDS, PA
8501 Candelaria NE, Suite AZ
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-292-8533

StarDancer
PO Box 1284
Lakeport, CA 95453
$4.95 plus $2 shipping

A Sister's Place
4800 N . Broadway
Chicago, IL (Andersonville area)
312-275-1319
1st Sunday monthly brunch for
women survivors, guestrooms

•G•t • A•• s•• s . ••• s•T•• u•. • o•I •o
. . .. . • . . . .. • . • . • . . . • . . . . . . . . . • . • . • . • . • . . . • . • . . .

• • • • • • • • •

(505) 877-6972

x..GAL BJISOUBCU (cont'd)
National Center for Prosecution of
Child Abuse
American Pr05ecutors Research
Institute
1033 North Fairfax St.
Suite 200
Alexandria, VA 22314
Publishes UPDATE, monthly
newsletter covering latest
developments
National Organization for Women
Legal Defense and Education Fund
Intake Department
99 Hudson St.
New York, NY 10013
Information, referrals to local lawyers

DIDCTO:am&
x..GAL BDOUBCJIS

COJl81JI4'.A11T8

Sexual A.uault and Child Sexual
StarDancer
PO Box 1284
Lakeport, CA 95453
707-279-1209
Presentations and consultation on
surviving ritual abuse, mind control
and torture

Abuse: A National Directory of
Victim/Sundoor Semces and

Pr...,ention Programs
Oryx Press
1-800-457-ORYX

$55

Coalition of Victims' Attorneys and
Consultants (COYAC)
4530 Oceanfront
Virginia Beach, VA 23451
804-422-2692
National database and referrals

LIJIBIBIBS
Incest and Ritual Abuse Library
37 Seventh Avenue
Maylands 6051
W.A. Australia

Annotated guide to 2,700 facilities

Vitality Works

Bill Wolfe, D.D.S., P.A.

Center for Natural Therapeutics

8501 Candelaria NE • Suite A-2
Albuquerque, NM 87112 • (505) 292-8533
126 Quincy NE, Albuquerque, NM 87108

4

"caveat emptor I buyer b:!'Wllre"

(505) 268-2772

the green pages

Direct;ary of Survivor/ Prosurvivor B.esources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

.-.WSLll'rZDS (cont'd)

Therapeutic Massage

Write to Heal

c/o WordsRight
POBox358
Fair Oaks, CA 95628-0358
Monthly, 6 mo-$14, 12 mo-$24,
sample $2.50
Reader submissions of writing and art
LAw
UPDATE
National Center for Prosecution of
Child Abuse

Swedish Massage Reflexogy
Polarity Therapy Cranio-Sacral Therapy
Patio Plaza, 5000 Marble Avenue, NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110, 505-262-0847 / 505-281-1686

In Search of Healing
PO Box 30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190
quarterly $20, sample $5
Reader submissions of writing and art

SURVIVOR
PO Box30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190
quarterly $20, sample $5
lnfonnative articles for survivors/
prosurvivors

JIDEDIGS-UU

MDlllll&L8

NATIONAL

Mama's Minerals

Incest Survivors Anonymous (ISA)

PO Box 5613
Long Beach, CA 90805
213-422-1632
12-step meetings
Survivors of Incest Anonymous, Inc.
(SIA)

PO Box 21817
Baltimore, MD 21222-6817
410-433-2365
Send SASE with$ .52 postage for
listing of local meetings

lll&88.&a• TJDIB.&Pl8T8

John Kiegel
Vitality Works Center for Natural
Therapeutics
126 Quincy NE
Albuquerque, NM 87108
505-268-2772
Erica Tismer

Patio Plaza
5000 Marble Ave. NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-262-0847, 505-281-1686
Swedish massage, reflexology, polarity
therapy, cranio-sacral therapy

510 2nd St. NW
Suite 209
Albuquerque, NM 87102
505-24 7-05 71
Program for families with adolescents

the green pages

MEN
Men's Issues Forum

Newsletter of M.A.L.E., Men
Assisting, Leading and Educating, Inc.
PO Box 380181
Denver, CO 80238-1181
Bimonthly $15 survivor, $25 other
Reader submissions, resources

MULTIPLE PERSONAllTY

B.E.A.M.
Being Energetic About Multiplicity
PO Box 20428
Louisville, KY 40250-0428
Bi-monthly $15, professional $20,
sample $2.50
Expressive newsletter, reader
submissions

GENERAL INTEREST

The Chorus
Newsletter of VOICES
PO Box 148309
Chicago, IL 60614
Reader submissions, resources

REGIONAL

New England Survivors of Incest
Anonymous (SIA)

Incest Sumwr Information
Exchange

]wt Us!
Newsletter ofJustUs Unlimited
PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
Monthly$20
lnfonnation, opinions about MPD,
RA

TheMAZE

POBox263
Dorchester, MA 02124
617-721-2100
SASE or recorded message for meeting
schedule

PO Box 3399
New Haven, CT 06515
Quarterly $10, professional $15,
sample $2
Reader submissions, writing, art,
infonnation

POBox88722
Tukwila, WA 98138-2722
Bimonthly $30
articles, poetry, reviews

Sexual Abuse Survivors Anonymous
(SASA)

sos

PROSURVIVOR

PO Box 241046
Detroit, MI 48224
313-882-9646
12-step meetings in Michigan and
Illinois

Survivors of Sexual Abuse
Forbes Publications Ltd.
44 Brookpark Mews
Calgary, Alta Canada TZW 2P3
Monthly $30 (Canadian)
Poetry, art, resources

IDDIATIOJIT
New Mexico Center for Dispute
Resolution

4530 B Alexander Blvd. NE
Albuquerque, NM 87107
505-344-1144
Gems, minerals, fossils, jewelry, beads
from around the world

American Prosecutors Research
Institute
1033 North Fairfax St.
Suite 200
Alexandria, VA 22314

METRO

Survivors of Incest Services

PO Box 56252
Houston,TX 77256-6252
713-684-6747
Local schedule available

Speaking Out
Incest Awareness Project Newsletter
Box8122
Fargo, ND 58109-8122
Membership, group $24, individual
$12
Reader submissions, resources

"caveat emptor I buyer beware"

Share
POBox88722
Tukwila, WA 98138-2722
Bimonthly, $30 USA, $36 foreign
For partners, friends, family of MPD/
DD's
Stand Fast
PO Box 9107
Conimicut Station
Warwick, RI 02889
For parmers, significant others,
supporters

5

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources
RmWBLSr'1'Sll8 (oont'd)

RmWBLSr'1'Sll8 (oont'd)

RADICAL PERSPECTIVES

On the WINGS of WIie
Wings Foundation, Inc.
8007 w. Colfax
Lakewood, CO80215
303-238-8660
Monthly $12 member, $24
nonmember

Body Memories
PO Box 14941
Berkeley, CA 94701-4941
Quarterly $12 sliding scale, free to
prisoners
Articles, poetry, art

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

0BCl&llOZATI0llTS (oont'd)

0BGAllllZATI0llTS (oont'd)

Incest Resources, Inc.

MEN

46 Pleasant St.
Cambridge, MA 02139
Educational materials, training,
consultation, SASE ( 2 stamJJ5) for list
Incest Survivors Anonymous World
Service Office

PO Box 5613
Long Beach, CA 90805
213-422-1632
12-step recovery, referrals, literature

RITUAL ABUSE

0BGAllllZATI0llTS
JustVs!

Newsletter of Justus Unlimited
PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
Monthly, $20
Information, opinions about RA,
MPD

SumoorShip
3181 MissionN139
San Francisco, CA 94110
415-282-3897
Monthly, $30, $36/Canada
Forum on survival of ritual abuse,
torture and mind control

Monarch Resources

ART

The Clothesline Project

PO Box 727
East Dennis, MA 02641
508-385-7004
Liason for local Clothesline Projects
bearing witness to violence against
women
Urban Art Retreat

3712 N. BroadwayN700
Chicago, IL 60613
312-275-1319
Art for self expression, consciousness
raising, social change regarding
violence

lnitiati11e

PO Box 1293
Torrance, CA 90505-0293
310-373-1958
MPD/DD/RA events calendar, info
packets, audiotapes, presentations

PO Box 330632
West Hartford, CT 06133
203-875-6652
For professionals and survivors needing
to access services

SELF-INFLICTED VIOLENCE

Victims of Clergy Abuse Linkup
(VOCAL)

Survivors of Incest Anonymous, Inc.

PO Box 21817
Baltimore, MD 21222
301-282-3400
When you are ready to root-out the
problem, 12-step meetings,
publications

PO Box 1268
Wheeling, IL 60090
708-202-0242
ExTRF.ME ABUSE

PO Box899
Citrus Heights, CA 95611
916-967-0424
Conferences, workshops, speakers,
info/crisis line, support grouJJ5
GENERAL

1-800-578-1292
For a speakout in your area

RELIGIOUS

Incest Survivors Resource Network
lntemational

PO Box 7375
Las Cruces, NM 88006-73 75
505-521-4260
Quaker Witness Educational Resource
Contacts: Anne-Marie Eriksson,
Lt.Col. Erik Eriksson USAF (Ret)

The Lost and Found Ministry
Trinity Lutheran Church
715 Second Ave South
PO Box 188
Moorhead, MN 56560
218-236-1333
For the chemically dependent and their
families
RITUAL ABUSE

Cult Awareness Network (CAN)

1345 El Centro Ave.
PO Box630
Hollywood, CA 90028
213-465-4016
Treatment, prevention, research,
survivors support grouJJ5, hotline
Incest Awareness Project

6

To Tell The Truth:
America Speaks Out About Incest
and Sexual Abuse
August 1, 1993

INTEREST

Childhelp USA, Los Angeles
Childhelp Center

The Healing Woman
PO Box 3038
Moss Beach, CA 94038
Monthly $25, low income $15
Articles, stories

POBox4078
Appleton, WI 54911
Information and support for starting
12 Step program for spouses, relatives,
friends of people with dissociative
disorders

CLERGY SEXUAL ABUSE

Survivors Reaching Out

The Cutting Edge
PO Box 20819
Cleveland, OH 44120
Quarterly, Donation, professional $30
For women living with self-inflicted
violence

Justus Unlimited

DD-Anon Group One
Recovery Services and Resources

PO Box85582
Seattle, WA 98145-1582
SafeandSaund newsletter provides forum,
resources

WOMEN

PO Box 4367
Boulder, CO 80306-4367
proactive MP's/families/friends

PROSURVIVOR

8025 S. Honore
Chicago, IL 60620
312-483-1059

(SOFIE)
PO Box 2794
Renton, WA 98056-2794
Bimonthly $30
Letters, articles, stories, art

Multiple Personality Dignity/Loved
Ones Of Multiples

PO Box 952
San Jose, CA 95108
408-453- 7616

Sexual Abuse Survivors Association
(SAS)

Sumoors of Female Incest Emerge!

MULTIPLE PERSONALITY

Parents United International, Inc.

Survivors Network for People
Abused by Priests (SNAP)

SURVIVORS OF FEMALE INCEST

Men Assisting, Leading and
Educating, Inc.
PO Box 380181
Denver, CO 80238-1181

PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
303-643-8698
therapy assistance, newsletter,
clearinghouse

Canadian Council on Social
Development
POBox3505
StationC
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada KlY 401
Serves the self-help/mutual aid
community, bilingual English/French

The Cutting Edge
PO Box 20819
Cleveland, OH 44120
Quarterly, Donations, professional $30
For women living with self-inflicted
violence

M.A.L.E

Box 8122
Fargo, NM 58109-8122
Membership, group $24, individual
$12
Newsletter, public education, events

VOICES in Action (Victims Of
Incest Can Emerge Survivors)

PO Box 148309
Chicago, IL 60614
1-800-7VOICES
Resource clearinghouse, newsletter,
conferences, anthology
VT.-1.S.E.E. (Vermont-Incest
Survivors Enlightened and
Empowered)

POBox82
Milton, VT 05468-3525
Newsletter, legislation, referrals,
whimsical paraphernalia

"caveat emptor I buyer be'UXlre"

2421 W. Pratt Blvd., Suitel 173
Chicago, IL 60645
312-267-7777
Healing Hearts

1515 Webster Street
Oakland, CA 94612-3313
conferences, speakers bureau,
professional training, tapes, newsletter
JustUs Unlimited

PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
303-643-8698
therapy assistance, newsletter,
clearinghouse

the green pages

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Pttf::t
Patrick Prince
5027 Larchmont Drive, North East
Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87111
505-275-8448 / 505-884-8662
OBQAlllZATIORS (oont'd)

PU-PUSS QBAPBIOS

WOMEN

Archetype
10516 Sierra Bonita NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-292-1081
Typographer

Wings Foundation
8007 w. Colfax
Lakewood, CO 80202
303-238-8660
Newsletter, support groups
Yourn
Believe The Children

PO Box 1358
Manhattan Beach, CA 90266
Advocates for child RA survivors
Citizens Against Sexual Child Abuse

PO Box 1093
Kingston, Ontario K7L4Y5 Canada
613-542-1101
Supportive housing for survivors 16-24
years old
P:ui'PALS
Writer's Secrets

Penpal adult survivor's therapy service
POBox605
Seabrook, NH 03874
$1 postage and handling
PBOTOQBAPJIJIBS

Patrick Prince Photography
5027 Larchmont Dr. NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-275-8448, 884-8662

mkc publishing
5401 Summer NE
Albuqureque, NM 87110
505-266-6617
Desktop publishing

BUR.&W.&YCBILI> (oont'd)

Elizabeth Phillippi, Reild Master
Reild School of Natural Healing

Passages

5541 Edwards Dr. NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-299-3918
Gentle touch that accelerates mental,
emotional, physical healing, spiritual
growth

BJIS:a&BCBDS

Questionaire on signs, symptoms, lifelong
impact, prevention of child sexual abuse
Send long#10 SASE to
Valerie A. Scalera

1070 Sherman Ave.
South Plainfield, NJ 07080
908-754-4616
BUR.A.WAY CBILI>BJIR

by Caryn StarDancer, Illustrations by
StarDancer, Kore Loy Wildrekinde
StarDancer
PO Box 1284
Lakeport, CA 95453
$6.95 plus $2 shipping

Book Fare
5901 Wyoming NE

No hassles, no traps, no tricks. Need
shelter, food, medical help? Need to
let someone know you're still alive?
Call night or day.

Bookworks
4022 Rio Grande NW

NEWMEXICO

Double Rainbow
3416 Central SE

Amistad Crisis Shelter

PllDllTJUl8
Academy Printers

Las Cruces Runaway Shelter

880 East Idaho
Las Cruces, NM 88004
505-523-0572, 505-524-7765

..
.. .

Full Circle Books
2205 Silver SE
Hastings
Fair Plaza
Newsland
2112 Central SE
Page One
11018 Montgomery NE
Salt of the Earth Books
2128 Central SE
Serenity Shop
3401 San Mateo NE

2328 West Joppa Road
Suite 15
Lutherville, Maryland 21093
410-825-8888, fax 410-337-0747
Books, tapes, especially on MPD

Sisters' and Brothers'
Bookstore
4011 Silver SE

Survivor Publisher

The Word Farm
4104 Silver SE

PO Box829
Seabrook, NH 03874
508-463-3186
Audio, video tapes on recovery from
sexual and substance abuse

Tell our advertisers you saw their
ads in the green pages.
the green pages

Lookfor
In Search of Healing
at these
NewMexico
Locations:

Runaway Hotline
l,800,231-6946 nationwide

The Sidran Foundation

of

TEXAS

Runaway Hotline
l-800-392-3352

ALBUQUERQUE

2929 Barcelona SW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-877-03 71
Shelter, crisis intervention,
counseling, educational assistance

4740 Pan American Frwy NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-884-173 7, 800-675-173 7 (NM),
800-858-5389 (USA),
505-884-4 734 (fax)
4-color Heidelberg Press
Call R06ie and Therri for expert
printing

215 57thNW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-836-1040
Temporary shelter, counseling
aftercare

NATIONWIDE

PUBLISJmllS

POB'l'llY
Returning to Herself: Poems
Restoration

Arnold Litho
5908 Lomas NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-266-43 71
We make art "camera ready"
Survivor-friendly

BmKI

"caveat emptor I buyer beware"

RIO RANCHO

Hastings
Hilltop Plaza
SANTA FE

Hastings
2414 Cerrillos Rd

7

Directory of Survivor/ P.rosurvivor B.esources
OpenWay Safety Alliance (OSA)
325 Wayne Rd NW
Albuquerque, NM 87114
505-898-9221
End the cycle of violence with
nonaggresslve response training

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Sm.J'-JmLP

8:m.J'-JmLP (oont'd)

TJDIBAPISTS (oont'd)

Incest Resources
46 Pleasant St.
Cambridge, MA 02139
Publishes Starting From Scratch: The

The Canadian Council on Social
Develpment
55 Parkdale Ave.
PO Box3505
StationC
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada KlY 401
Publishes Initiative, French/English
newsletter about self-help groups

Elsa LaFlamrne, PhD, A TR
1605 Carlisle NE, Suite A3
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-255-4331
Dissociative Disorders

Incest Resources Group Mode~
guidebook for starting self-help groups

SPDUTUAI- BWAl,BBS

ELSA LAFLAMME PH.D.,

A.T.R.

1605 Carlisle NE, Suite A-3
Albuquerque, New Mexico 8711 0
(505) 255-4331
• Archetypal Visualization, Sandplay
• Self-Recovery, Relationship Issues
• Life Transitions, Life Mission

Eve Loren Wedeen M.A., A.T.R .
Registered Arr Therapist
Individual, Family and Group Counseling
5000 Marble

NE

Suite 305

115C West Santa Fe Ave.
Santa Fe, NM 87501
505-989-8937
Learn to release the incest bond from
another survivor. Insurance

8UBMl8810118
Anthology of letters to perpetrators,
mailed/unmailed. Send SASE and
submission by 9/30/93 to
Julie Mines
PO Box 38-2024
Cambridge, MA 02238
Anthology of women survivors of
pornography: writing, art, interviews.
Anonymity respected.
Deadline
December, 1993. Send to
Ann Russo
Women Survive
PO Box 771
Kendall Square Branch
Cambridge, MA 0214 2

Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110

sos . 262

. 0847
ART THERAPISTS

Dnise Dickey
Santa Fe, NM
505-988-7828
Art therapy, body centered therapy,
Radix (R) education

Counseling for Career Change and Personal Growth

880-1618
SHOSHONA BLANKMAN, M.A

Louise Jacobus, M.A.
National Certified Counselor
Individual and Couples Counseling
Body-centered Therapy

8

Boov/MIND INTEGRATIVE THERAPY
Mari Susan Selby
POBox8736
Santa Fe, NM 87504
505-753-5313
Working with sexual abuse survivors,
individuals, couples, families

CoUNSELORS

Shoshona Blankman, MA
Pathfinding Counseling Services
2501 San Pedro NE, Suite 204
Albuquerque, NM
505-880-1618
Career changes, personal growth
Louise Jacobus, MA
4233 Montgomery NE, Suite 230W
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-883-1799
Body-centered therapy; individual,
couples counseling
Johanna Johnson-O'Dowd
8205 Spain NE, Suite 210
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-822-9842
PTSD, MPD, couples, gay/lesbian
Nonna Leib, MA
Kachina Counseling and Guided
Imagery Center
6221 Sabre Court NW
Albuquerque, NM 87107
505-344-8010
Medical psychotherapy, guided
imagery, counseling

Ty Menefee and Mary Ellen Holman
The Recovery Center
300J Louisiana NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-884-4511, 505-243-2223 (24 hr.
ans.svc.)
Treating sexual trauma, addictions,
ACA's

2501 San Pedro, NE, suite 204

4233 Montgomery NE
Suite 230W
Albuquerque, NM 87109

Eve Loren Wedeen, MA, A TR
5000 Marble NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-262-~47
Treating primary and secondary PTSD

883-1799 Office
292-9009 24 hrs.

"caveat emptor I buyer ~ware"

Mr. Jan Middeldorf, MA,NCPsyA
13528 Terragon Dr NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-296-6508
Counselor for survivors of emotional,
sexual, physical abuse
Judy Rollstin, MA
Albuquerque, NM
505-884-2568
Individual, group therapy for adult
survivors

the green pages

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

THE RECOVERY CENTER
for the treatment of:
ROSIE ROSE, LISW

Sexual Addiction
Sexual Trauma
Adult Children of Alcoholics
Co-Dependency

Counselor

Addictions, Trauma
Grief, Self care

1YMENEFEE
MARY ET,,TEN HOLMAN
Located at 3009 Louisiana NE
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110
(505) 884-4511, 24 Hr. Ans. Svc., 243-2223
An Affiliate of the Counseling & Psychology Institute

Jan A Middcldorf NCPsyA

505 296 6508

Helene M Stilman NCPsyA 505 296 5861

Rose and Associates

265-0503

I Place your ad in the green pages I

Board Certified Psychoanalysts

In depth healing from the traumas of
emotional, sexual and h sical abuse

Now Forming:

Therapy Groups

c:fVo'tma _£db .:::;11/(.c,1.
cMt:dicafg:> j,ychotht: rnpy

for

Adult Survivors of
Sexual Abuse

§uidt:d[/ma91::'ty-C ounj,t:lin9
!J(achina Coun1eUn9
6221~afmCt. dVW
c4fCu9unque, c:NcM 87107

(505) 344-8010

For more information call:
Ongoing sexual trauma recovery group
now accepting new members. The group
provides a safe place to process how
past abuse impacts our present day
lives. A three month commitment is
needed. Sliding scale available.
For information please contact

Johanna or Cindi
Counseling Network Associates
505-822-9842
the green pages

Judy Rollstin, MA - Counselor
A Caring Place

884-2568
Individual Counseling also available

"caveat emptor I buyer beu,are"

9

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources
Ask your favorite bookstore to stock

In Search of Healing.
Booksellers call 505-880-8683 to order.
..

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

COUllJSBLOBS (oon'td)

COUNSELORS, CHRISTIAN

Cindi Rose, MSSW, LISW
Counseling Network Associates

Carole J. Myers, LMSW, NCC

8205 Spain NE, Suite 210
Albuquerque, NM 8710')
505-822-9842
Sexual trauma recovery group, sliding
scale

4263 Montgomery NE, Suite 110
Albuquerque, NM 8710')
505-883-63 77
Recovery from childhood sexual
trauma

S ••\I •

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...

SOARING EAGLE
INSTITUTE
P.O.

U,

Box 1175

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Survivor & Therapy Groups
Individual & Couple Groups
Organizational Consulting

Tijeras, NM

"i,tst1:,.

B7059

·•1:W~i·,

Retreat Center
Challenge Course

\'.~!:'{,!:.~"
i~O~Y~-~~

x~1,xlifilt

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505 281-2590

Rosie Rose, LISW
Rose and Associates

CoUNSELORS, MENTAL HEALTH

Albuquerque, NM
505-265-0503
Addictions, trauma, grief, selfcare

Linda Smarrella, MA and
Paul Smarrella, MA
Soaring Eagle Institute
Retreat Education Center
PO Box 1175
Tijeras, NM 87059
505-281-2590
Individual, group therapy; challenge
course; organizational consulting

Linda Smarrella, M.A., Administrator
Paul Smarrella, M.A., Facilitator

Debra Sugar, CAC, NTS
Albuquerque, NM
505-884-0815
Nurturing and Enhancing Personal
Recovery, body centered therapy

KinTree Whitecloud, MA
505-888-3 783
Albuquerque, NM
Body-mind-spirit focus on sexual
trauma, lesbian/gay concerns,
dreamwork

Jan Hollingsworth, MA
9412 Indian School Rd NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-275-2584
Promoting growth, healing, creativity
in women; free initial consultation;
sliding scale, insurance, medicare

CoUNSEI.ORS, ExPERIENTIAL

Cheryl Parkin, RN, MA
11805 Menaul NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-293-5146
Specializing in sexual trauma and
family therapy

COUNSELORS, MARRIAGE AND FAMILY

Judy Borich, MS
925 Sixth NW, Suite 10
Albuquerque, NM 87102
505-242-1011
Working to clear out the pain of the
past

Place your ad in the green pages
~

KinTree Whitecloud, M.A.
Individual, Couple & Group Cowiseling

~ ~ Jt.d.

888-3783

Mental Health Counselor

A body-mind-spirit focus. Specializing in
sexual abuse/incest healing, lesbian/gay
concerns & dreamwork.

Individual, Couples, and Family
Counseling

275-2584
9412 Indian School Rd. N.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87112

Sliding scale. Some insurance accepted.

Family Recovery

883-6377

Experiential Therapies
Cheryl Parkin, RN, MA
Program Director

4263 Montgomery, NE
SuitellO
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87109

Office
11805 Menaul N.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87112

(505) 293-5146

"caveat emptor I buyer beivare"

Addictive Disorders
Family Dysfunction

the green pages

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Resources
Ask your favorite bookstore to stock

In Search of Healing.

(505) 242-1011

Booksellers call 505,880,8683 to.order.

Judy G. Borich, M.S.

Laura Bank-Forest, AC.S.W.

Marriage & Family Therapist

Licensed Oinical Social Worker

925 6th N.W., Suite 10

(505) 984-0683

Albuquerque, NM 87102

(..

•

• •
• •

Psychotherapy
For
• adults
• children & adolescents
• consultation & supeNlsion

Southwestern Institute for Psychodrama
Individual, Couples, Family & Group Therapy
insurance accepted

Cynthia Goldblatt. M.A., L.M.S.W.
Psychodynamic Therapist & Board Certified Psychodramatist

(505) 884-1156

4207 Montgomery Blvd., NE • Suite A
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87109

Lyn Jones

M.A.

Paycl.otL.crapy

PSYCHODRAMA

PSYCHOLOGISTS, CLINICAL

Cynthia Goldblatt, MA, LMSW
Southwestern Institute for
Psychodrama
4207 Montgomery NE, Suite A
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-884-1156
Psychodrama therapy for individuals,
couples, groups, family

Nancy L Black, PhD
2403 San Mateo NE, Suite S15
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-888-4 74 7
Adult, family psychotherapy; recovery
from sexual abuse
PSYCHOTHERAPISTS

Stephanie Atwood, MA

2201 San Pedro NE, Suite 222
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-883-43 73
Childhood abuse issues, dissociative
disorders

6100 Seagu1£ Lane 'J./..'E Suite 204
.91.fE,uquerque, 'J{J,{ 87109
(505) 880-1516

FIRST NATIONWIDE
SPEAKOUT ON INCEST!

Laura Bank-Forest, ACSW
SantaFe,NM
505-984-0683
Psychotherapy for adults, children,
adolescents; insurance

August 1, 1993
800-S78-1292

Juliet Calabi, MA

STEFANI ATWOOD, M.A.
PROFESSIONAL THERAPIST
PRIVATE PRACTICE BY APPOINTMENT ONLY
2201 SAN PEDRO NE
BUILDING 2 SUITE 222
ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87110

(505) 883-4373

the green pages

546 Harkle Rd., Suite C
Santa Fe, NM 87501
505-983-5568
Sensitive work through language of
body, dream, imagination

Behty Harrison, LMSW, LAc
122 Tulane SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-255-4102
Psychotherapy, acupuncture
Lyn Jones, MA

6100 Seagull LN NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-880-1516

Behty Harrison LMSW, L. Ac
Psychotherapy

122 Tulane S.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87106

"caveat empror I buyer beware"

Acupuncture

(505) 255-4102

11

"Advertisements, not endorsements"
Psychotherapy For Recovery and Growth

: ,a MARCUS, M.S.
.

•.

specializing in couple 's and men 's issues
treatm ent of survivors of childhood abuse,
addiction , and mental illness

Shaun McElhannon, M.A., L.M.S. W., D.D.

4233 Montgomery Blvd. NE

(505) 881-8666

Suite 200W
2403 San Mateo Blvd. N.E. Suite SlO
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110

Albuquerque, New Mexico 871 09
(505) 881·7282

Ann Yeager,

M.S.W.; A.C.S.W.

Licensed Inaependent Social Worker

..i.O

•· Individual and

:. ·:· · Group ·,psychotherapy

•••• -··

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SPECIALIZING IN :
Individual
~-,.
'O
Relat1onsh1p
~
~
Famil y
~
Child and Teen
':"
;..
Divorce Adjustment
~
Women 's Issues
~
Support Groups
liE;nt.io- Hours by Appointment Self-Esteem Classes
(505) 255-3075
Workshops
1615 Carlisle NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110

~,

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• •'.

. . •·,::.'. Of 'SSxoaJ :Y.rau"rna
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PSYCBOTBmlAPISTS (cont'd)

PSYCBO'.l'JDUlAPY (cont'd)

Paul Marcus, MS

Ann Yeager, MSW, ACSW

.

.,,..

4233 Montgomery NE, Suite 200W
•••lllliiillllilillllil-•lllliilllllilllll•--••••-•1111111- • • - • A1buquerque, NM87100
505-881-7282
Individual, group therapy for male
survivors

505/839-7365
2501 San Pedro NE, Ste. XJ4
Albuquerque, NM 87120

KATE LONGFEllOW, M.A.

Specializing in Treating
Adults Abused as Children

Groups offered in
HOW TO OVERCOME CHILDHOOD SOURCES
OF LOW SELF-ESTEEM

1615 Carlisle NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-255-3075
Finding a better way

RADIX (R)
PSYCHOTHERAPISTS, HOLISTIC

Dnise Dickey

Kara, RN, BSN, MA
5000 Marble NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, NM
505-867-3586
Sand ttay irnaginal therapy, past life
regression, soul retrieval

SantaFe,NM
505-988-7828
Body centered therapy, Radix (R)
education, art therapy

PSYCHOTHERAPISTS, PRIMAL

Marietta Patricia Leis, MA
PODrawerD
Corrales, NM 87048
505-898-1950
Primal psychotherapy

TmAPIST8-PBOl'Jl8810111'.&L
OBGAJIIZATIOJll'S

Family Violence and Sexual Assault
Institute
1310 Clinic Drive
Tyler, TX 75701
903-595-6600, fax 903-595-6799
"helping those who help"

PsYCHOTIIERAPY

Kate Longfellow, MA

MARIETTA PATRICIA LEIS, M.A.
CERTIRED PRIMAL THERAPIST & LICENSED COUNSELOR

2501 San Pedro NE, Suite 204
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-839-7365
Treating adults abused as children

Shaun McElhannon, MA, LMSW,
DD

P.O. DRAWER D, CORRALES, NM 87048
(505) 898-1950

12

2403 San Mateo NE, Suite SlO
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-881-8666
Specializing in adult survivors in
association with a psychiatrist

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advertisers
you saw their
ads in

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of Survivor/ Prosurvivor B.esources

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your
I vvork vvith that part of you
That couldn't be here
VVhen it vvasn't safe -That delicate soul part.
Is it tirne
To bring you
Horne?

ad
•

1n

this
space

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'l'llll&TIDll'l' cmllTD8
Charter Hospital

5901 Zuni SE
Albuquerque, NM 87100
800-874-2476 (NM),
505-265-8800 (outside state)
When you can't go on living with the
secret

"Please continue
the work you 're
doing. It saves
lives."
- Abby Ovitsky

M. T. LLOYD &ASSOCIATES
230 ADAMS STREET, S.E.
SUITE B
ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87108
505/266-6006

Heights Psychiatric Hospital

103 Hospital Loop NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-883-8777
Survivors of Sexual Abuse, recovery
from eating disorders
M. T. Lloyd and Associates
230 Adams SE, Suite B
Albuquerque, NM 87100
505-266-6006
Community based diagnostic and
treatment center, outpatient
counseling

Help us

continue
ourwork
Subscribe
to
In Search
of Healing

for only
$10.00
the green pages

A COMMUNITY BASED
DIAGNOSTIC AND 1REATMENT CENTER.
AN OUTPATIENT COUNSEUNC FACILITY
WHICH PROVIDES A SAFE AND
SUPPORTIVE ENVIRONMENT
FOR MEN, WOMEN, ADOLESCENTS
AND CHILDREN WHOSE LIVES
HAVE BEEN IMPACTED BY PHYSICAL,
EMOTIONAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE.

"caveat empror I buyer ~e"

13

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

HEIGHTS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL
Heights Psychiatric Hospital offers outpatient, partial hospitalization,
and inpatient treatment for people with psychiatric or chemical dependency problems including:

♦ Intensive Outpatient Eating

Disorder Programs
♦

Survivors of Sexual Abuse

Inpatient and Day Treatment
Track

FREE Initial Consultation
24-Hour Assistance & Referral

883-8777

in New Mexico call toll free
1-800-634-9295

Fully accredited by the Joint Commission on
Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations.
Most Insurance Plans Accepted.

-

Hq!ght,
P,yctiiat,ic
Ho1pital

103 Hospital Loop NE, Albuquerque, NM 87109

Tell our advertisers you saw their ads in the green pages.

When you can't go on living with the secret.
Making the decision to get help takes a lot of courage. Charter Hospital's special
program for survivors of sexual abuse helps enable survivors to talk openly and honestly
about their experiences, helping to break the secrecy and feelings of isolation in a safe
and supportive environment. The goals of Charter's program are:
* to help the survivor develop healthy, non-destructive coping skills when thoughts
or feelings seem overwhelming;
* nurture a growth of self empowerment and self responsibility;
* to begin the survivor's recovery process by creating a stronger self;
* to provide insight into self destructive, self sabotaging thoughts and behaviors,
and offer safer, healthier ways of coping with difficult situations.

For more information, call us at 265-8800 or 1-800-874-2476 (within New
Mexico). And if you don't get help at Charter, please get help somewhere.

gj ~

CHARTER
HOSPITAL

5901 ZUNI S.E. • ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87108 • 1-800-874-2476

14

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Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

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How to J,ist in the
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15

TO TELL Tt--16 TRlATt--1:
Ame..-.ica Speaks OtAt AbotAt Jncest and SextAal AbtAse
StAnday, AtA9tAst 1, 1993
Sweeney Convention Cente..-.
Santa Fe,

NM

Last year, a groL\p of SL\rvivors in Santa Fe presented a free commL\niiy
event, to highlight the healing aspects of oL\r childhood experience. Over 500
people attended, and CNN prodL\ced the docL\mentary, "Breaking the Silence",
featL\ring the event. Jt has been aired several times aroL\nd the world.
This year, the 9roL\p has expanded, and is sponsoring a nationwide
speakoL\tl SL\rvivors all across .America are pL\tting together their own events,
all to coincide on SL\nday, .AL\gL\st 1st. We are joining hands across the nation,
to speak oL\r frL\th, to encoL\rage others to heal, to wake L\P oL\r commL\nities, and
to move not jL\st from victim to SL\rvivor1 bL\t from SL\rvivor to thriver That is OL\r
deserved legacy! We invite yoL\ to join L\S for an inspiring day of workshops,
speakers, discL\ssion groL\ps, entertainment and healing. Complete anonymity
will be available for those who choose it.

MORNING SESSION: 10 AM - 12 NOON
WORKSHOPS FOR SURVIVORS & PRO-SURVIVORS
•Artas a Healing Tool - led by Christine Tieman, MA, ATR
• Writing through Recovery- led by Maria Selby, MA and poetess
• Movement Expressions - led by lnnermotion, a survivor dance troupe from Florida
(There is a $20 fee for each workshop. Scholarships are available. Pre-registration is requested
by July 25th. Call 1-800-578-1292 for information.)
THE MAIN EVENT: 1 :30 PM - 5:00 PM
FREE COMMUNITY PROGRAM!
featuring speakers (women, men and teens), slide show, entertainment by Inner motion and
People in Reality, breakout discussion groups (topics: women survivors, men survivors, clergy
abuse, ritual abuse, for families and friends, community action) and guest speaker Wayne Muller,
author of The Legacy of the Heart: The Spiritual Advantages of a Painful Childhood.
EVENING CELEBRATION: 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM
a buffet dinner ($1 O in advance, $12 at the door) plus drumming, dancing and musical
entertainment. Bring your rattles and drums! (No charge after 7:00 pm)

sponsored

by Bread

for the 3ol,\rney1 a non-profit organization

TOTELL THETRUTH P.O.Box8117

SantaFe,NM 87504-8117

505-986-8944 800-578-1292

Please make checks payable to "Bread for the Journey/Truth."

r------------------------------,
r------------------------------,
WORKSHOP REGISTRATION FORM
:
DINNER TICKET ORDER FORM
:

1
I
1
I
I

1
I
1 I
Name
---------------- I 1
Address________________ I 1
: City_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ State.___ Zip_ _ _ _ : 1I
I Phone(
I I

: Please indicate your choice: □ Art □ Writing
1 Please enclose your workshop fee of $20.

□

I

Name_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 1
Address
1
--------------- I
City_ _ _ _ _ _ _ State._ _ Zip_ _ _ _ 1
Poo~(
I
I
-·---~------------1
Movement : 1 Please send me _ _ tickets at $1 Oeach. $___ enclosed. 1
1 I

L------------------------------J

I

L------------------------------~

Does The Body Remember?

Donna Michael Gleckler
California
I am a survivor of chronic physical and sexual
abuse by my father. This effort at recovery began about
five years ago, with incest issues coming to the fore
about two years ago. The initial precipitant to getting
into the work was a very positive experience with
gynecological surgery.
I hold a Master's Degree in Clinical Social Work,
although I do not currently practice as a therapist I
social worker.

Crushed
Overwhelmed the weight of it crushes me
I am prostrate with grief
The enormity of it the horrible immensity
The force of it
Can not be measured by time or space
If I look around and multiply it by the real numbers
I am crushed anew
I would say it was a galaxy or a milky way
But even that feels too finite, too limited
It is the weight of all the world
Aghast, and the worst is the shock is wearing off
And I begin to feel it
I feel it in my muscles and yes even in my bones
Gravity has increased tenfold
I stagger under the burden
The air presses down on me heavy
Even the air feels heavy
It is almost incomprehensible but I begin to comprehend
And therein lies the smashing blow
And blow after blow after blow
The unbearable pain
The horror which crushes
So I can not raise my head for sadness
I can not raise my shoulders
From the millstone of the knowledge
It bears down on my soul and crushes me
Is this pain the price of having a soul?
I can not go back to being soulless
But I wonder if I can bear it
I ccy out it is not to be borne
I see no real choice

In Search of Healing

On love and work I do fine - BUT
My body is the battleground
It's been twenty years since .
my stomach sent its pain as clue
And lately now it's my belly too
It's been over ten years since my head began to ache
I have often worn my shoulders as earrings
My muscles stay primed, alerted
drawn up and strained forward
I am often near a cringe
I am braced - for what?
Could it be assault?
It's been seventeen years since
out of the blue I "pinched" a nerve in my neck
And the pain now merging into my upper back
sends shooting throbs down my ann
It's been nine years-since my lower back cried revolt
"We can't hold you up any longer
we have a pelvis to protect"
I have triumphed over the "female pain" of twenty-odd
years
By having parts removed
I do believe I won that one
To me the price became quite affordable
as the agony less and less endurable
Now if I could just amputate
my stomach, belly, head, neck, back and ann
Then I would not need to ask
Does the body remember?

Call A Spade A Spade
Let's not call it molestation
We are too comfortable with that word
Sanitized of feeling
So we can say it easily
Say it easily without thinking
what it really means
Say it easily
without feeling flesh being pried open
Let's not call it sexual abuse
Let's not call it incest
Let's call it what it is
Let's call it daughter-rape
Let's call it son-sodomy
Let's call it what it is, child rape
The rape of young children
Children with small baby fat thighs

Number 1

33

What A Cruel Trick

The Nothing Feeling

When I was, what, eleven?
I prayed with the scapula
At school the nuns told us
If you really believed and really prayed
Then your prayer would be answered
And so I prayed
that my father would come home on time, quiet and sober
I often prayed late, far later
far later than his longed-for quiet arrival time
I prayed alone, later and later
Holding the scapula, harder and harder
Tcying to make myself believe, fiercer and fiercer
Because if I believed, it would work
The nuns said so, didn't they?
It never worked
Imagine my despair heavily weighed down with my own
guilt
I had done it wrong,- imperfectly
The church urged perfection
Wasn't Christ perfect?
Wasn't I supposed to be just like Christ?
I had not totally believed
Not prayed perfectly, somehow
It broke my heart
And among my broken heart glass shards
lie the ragged-edged knives of shame and guilt
It was my fauU when he arrived late and mean
on a sadistic tear
My church had placed a burden on me
"Believe perfectly and you can make it happen"
Ah, the perfectly part, the ultimate escape clause
Didn't they ever guess
I was desperate enough to take it oh so seriously?
I grabbed at their straw
I hung my world on it
I took all the responsibility
As if I had the power to stop his drunken rages
What a cruel trick to play on a child
To tell them if they only believe
They can stop rape with a prayer

The second last time I remember feeling nothing
was when he tortured the bird before my six year old eyes
The bird struggled and he laughed, his high-pitched laugh
The bird struggled and broke its own neck
It so desperately wanted to get away
So desperately it broke its own neck
to break from the trap of his hands
And I remember feeling NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL
To this day I can't recall if I liked our pet bird
I am told we buried it with ceremony
But that too is lost to me
The last time I remember feeling nothing
was when my husband said
"your mom died this morning"
I would have curled into a ball
except for hanging on him as he stood
And I screamed over and over
"I feel NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL"
So I could guess the feeling's force
the force of the unfeelable feeling
And yet, sadly I feel so much better about her death
than her life

Wounded Dog
Sometimes I feel so raw
Like my skin does not protect me enough from the world
I need a better, thicker, stronger barrier
And I need so much protection
I feel like a wounded dog
cowering under the bed
I feel like a wounded dog
hiding, shaking and licking my wounds

Heart Thud
I forget all about it for a little while
And then suddenly remember
With a heart thud of ah no this is me, my life
And find myself wishing
This chronic gnawing at my soul
Was someone else's life

34

Number 1

In Search of Healing

If I Publish - The Family Dilemma

How Often Was It Rape?
This poem was written to my rrwther,
shortly after her death.

Your things came this morning
I had looked forward t.o receiving them
Few things stoke my acquisitiveness, my lust for things
But I confess dishes have always topped my list
And so I eagerly awaited your dishes
And when I had unwrapped them all
I felt they were all I had left of you
Andi wept
And I felt for the millionth time
that your life wasn't enough
It wasn't enough for you, for anybody
You raised your children, four "good citizens"
And you took pride and yes even joy in that
But no, it wasn't enough
There is the rest of the story
The story of how my father ran rough-shod over you
How he ranted and raved
And how he backed up that ranting physically, and with force
And how his appetites were
I knew his appetites in ways I would rather not know
I knew his appetites to be cruel, inhuman and sadistic
I knew his glee
I knew his sexual proclivities
I knew his enraged refusal to take no for an answer
And so I stand at my kitchen window with my lonely dishes
And I wonder, how often did he rape you?
And I know bitterness
Your lovely china teacups overflow with bitterness
before my eyes
His demands, as his self, were compulsive
He did not brook opposition often
How often was it rape?
How often did you successfully refuse him?
I am sure sometimes
I am equally sure there were other times
Many times when it was just easier to give in
His persistence, I know, was beyond amazing
I am sure he did not always take no for an answer
I know now you were afraid of him
Did he hit you for it, the sex?
My bet is yes
And I bet you never called it rape
Once I snooped, as girls sometimes do, in your dresser drawer
I found an old book, very Catholic,
It advised that many women were essentially raped
by their husbands
The tone was one of resigned acceptance
Were you always resigned to his sickening and sick hands?
I know you feared him
And I bet you never called it rape
But I will
I will call it rape
I will call it rape for you
In Search of Healing

Number 1

If I publish and they see it
I fear they will be lost to me forevermore
I fear I will be like a lone Holocaust survivor
with my entire family wiped out to my existence
Gone totally gone
Sometimes I don't feel I have a family now
But if I publish
I fear it will be irrevocable, not on my side but theirs
I fear I will be persona non grata ,
I fear I will cease to exist in their sphere, their orbit
It is not my orbit but I have had the ability and opportunity
to dip into it
If I publish I fear we will be tom asunder and never be put
together
I fear I will have no family, none, none at all
To be the only lone survivor, not a single blood relative
Totally alone in all the world
To have no one in all the world
Cast out and cut adrift with no kith or kin
But I refuse to use a pen name
I refuse
Why must I hide it?
Why should I hide it?
The thought angers me
There is power in the truth
If ttie truth sets us free then lies enslave
The truth is a beacon for those who would see
The truth is the bell-weather of change
The truth calls us to task whether we like it or not
The truth can move us and shake us
It brooks no cowardice
It cries out to be proclaimed
It has a driving force, a will of its own
It rents the sea!lli on our carefully constructed realities
Yes, there is power in the truth
Having been powerless I will take my rightful power
I will not renounce my power
I will not silence myself
I delete their names and their personal details
But I will not delete me
My father thought he could delete me
My father thought he could delete my will
He found out otherwise

35

Parallel Universes
THE EVERYDAY REALITY
of washing socks
and late for the bus
the social chitchat
and shortening skirts
Life, such as this is, is concrete and physical
and ever so mundane
If we keep it mundane enough, reality won't set in
And we can keep our minds out
The upper part of our minds is supposedly engaged
We skate only on the surface of the waters of our minds
-Never allowing ourselves to slip into the waters even an inch
For in the waters' depths is the frightening universe
The deep deep depths of the denied
And we clamor and claw and cringe and cling to the surface of the
water
We want no part of the depths of our souls

THE OTHER LAND
Of horror flashes
The knife to the eye
The rape of our tiny spaces
The secret spaces of our souls
Where the truth is buried
But send our flares
Bright flashing split second illuminating flares
that flash the horror of the other world before our faces,
in our muscles, in our thoughts
Our bodies flinch and go rigid
We smell the smells and block the blows
and stand with our toes over the vast abyss
of the secret canyons and chasms of pain
The vast vast universe of our pain
The horrors of it make us gasp
At the pain we could not endure then, but somehow did,
In the unreality of the other land
Land of dead time, dead space, dead air, dead souls
It feels more real than anything, the only reality
And yet it is a different reality, a covert world
It is a sadness beyond all measure to possess such secret
realities

THE OTHER LAND
Of perverse truth
The differentness as the possessor of secret and terrible
knowledge all would deny, expunge and flee from
It is society that makes us different
We can not, or will not, just chit chat
And our reality reminds all of hell's infinite possibilities
We say, "all is not as it should be,
all is not as you have labored so long to contrive, to pretend,
to play the numb fool"
All of that is sand on the beach
Sand on the beach about to be rearranged
The tide is coming in
The truth is coming in

36

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Dawna Elaine Page
Colorado
I have been writing poetry since the age of twelve, which happens to be the same year that I put an end to the sexual
abuse that began when I was seven. My best friend's grandfather was a child rrwlester, and he abused both his
granddaughters and me over the years. As an adul~ I was married to a physically abusive drug-addict and later raped
by an acquaintance. Today I am married again to a gentle and supportive man. Four years of therapy have enabled me
to make many positive changes in my life, and I will continue seeking support as T,ong as I am learning and growing.
Life today is good.

Little Girl

Healing

Seven is the time for picking strawberries
sweet and dusty from the garden.
Seven is the time for skipping rope,
playing jacks, telling secrets.
Not keeping them.

The books and bread of childhood
borne in torn and bleeding hands
sheltered secrets from their sight.
My eyes, once grey as mice, faded
brown then gold then green
suffocating in colorlessness. I never
saw his eyes, only blue and ice.

Seven is when life bubbles over with giggles
chocolates from Grandma, dominoes with Dad.
But just one touch can knock them all down.

So I'm trying on seven again
(my niece is showing me how)
and it's easy to be small
and scared on the slide
since the first time I was seven
I wasn't.

In braille, his hands
read horses, fish and tobacco
and my skin
sought solace
in adulterated wine,
feint sweetness. Not his
fist split me open
on his path in the dust
I traced
the wine and words of sister women
who broke bread in healing hands
shattered secrets in the night.

For Isaac

The pail removed, the mouse still ran blind circles ...

I was delivered to the world
by the hands of a surgeon.
Handled over the years by as many men.
At thirty
I was delivered from the world of
pedophiles rapists and batterers
by the strength of my own
tom and bleeding fingers
clinging to the last shred
each time.
I've been caressed by lovers and husbands
shaped by strokes of masseuse and mentor
even soothed by sisters in pain.
Many hands have held me
seeking
to own to use to heal to share.
But never was I touched
until you encircled my finger
with your tiny fist
the day I delivered you.

The trains and teddies of my childhood
trapped by pen on paper pages
carry my child
my pain
my wisdom
to a place where a little girl cries alone
her only tears her bleeding hands.

Seven is when you're not afraid Lo swing high,
laugh loud, try anything twice.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

37

Linda Gean
New Mexico
August 8, 1992 (my 48th birthday)
My name is Linda Gean.
I am an incest survivor.
Until this year, my only memories were of one
incident qf my step-father in bed with me when I was
13. He had his right arm under my head and his hand
on my breas~ and his le.ft hand was in my private part
in my pants. I had memories of him talking realfiUhy
sex stuff to me whenever I helped himfixfence,Jeed
cattle, or anytime I was alone with him When we
would "horse around" he'd always end up groping my
breasts and/or groin. Every time I wok a bath, he'd
come in, sometimes naked himself. I'd try t,o hide myself
by pulling my legs up to my chest and use the washcloth
t,o cover me. He would grab at me and yank the
washcl,oth away. He made me wuch his penis. lf I
wanted my allowance, want,ed t,o go t,o the movies,
wanted to go on a school function ( class parties, ball
games,jield trips, etc.) I had to give him a 'Jeel" ofmy
breasts and/or groin. He would often sneak up behind •
me and "gmb" afeel or goose me.
/first went int,o individual therapy in 1985. In
1989 I went into hypnotherapy, and I learned that a l,ot
qf reaUy bad things had happened t,o me. Even though
my subconscious had "told al4 "I still tried t,o deny it.
The male therapist I saw dm no therapy with the
conscious me, though, and I carried a lot of anger
inside. He also got me involved in some evil type of
work, and this was very troubling and upsetting t,o me.
/finally ''woke up" to how he was abusing me and
st,opped seeing him I occasionally see his female
associate, who became afriend over the years. She
works with me when I need her help.
In February, 1992, I began group therapy. Things
began coming into conscious awareness through
nightmares and.flashbacks. I can now accept it aU as
fact because I have the conscious awareness of it now.
Nightmare memories I've had: 1) My step-father
was aborting a baby (his)jrom me. I was watching
from overhead. Through the hypnotherapy I learned
that he got me pregnant twice - 6 months apart then abort,ed them both himself, crudely, inhumanely,
brutally, the first one when I was 12, the second when I

38

was 13. 2) He put me into a hole, and I saw him
shoveling dirt onto me. 3) He had me laying naked in
the snow, and he was packing snow inside my vagina.
Through therapy we decided he must have been trying
t,o stop or slow down bleeding ofter one of the abortians.
4) He nearly drowned me in a horse tank I liked t,o
swim in - I was about 10. 5) He had me backed up
against a post in the shed, he was poking me in the
sternum area, which is very painfu4 and he was
laughing at my pain. Flashbacks ( and some dreams):
He hit me on my head, shoulders, entire back, legs and
feet, sometimes with his hand, sometimes with an object
that looks like a rubber hose; he held a heated branding
iron in my face; he kicked me in the tailbone with his
boot; he put pillows on my face; and other things that
have "le.ft" me right now.
I'm sure my therapy is coming t,o an end. After
seven years, I'm ready to put the past behind me and
get on with my life. I want t,o do some inner child work,
then I feel I will be done. I know more memories may
come up in the future, but not I know how t,o work with
those and resolve them. I'm now "surviving" by doing
what's bestforme ( and my subconscious). With God's
help we'll make it. I do lots of positive oJfirmations
daily, and reverse any negative thought immediately
with positive affirmations.
This past May I received my Bachelor ofArt degree
in Psychology. I also have an Associate ofArt degree in
Criminal Justice. I was a Licensed Practical Nurse
until I injured my lower back in 1976. I went through a
head injury accident in 1981, which took some time to
recaver from. I was in an aut,o accident in 1987, which
I still receive treatmentfor.
My uUimate goal is t,o have my own business where
those who cannot afford individual counseling can
come. I know there are groups at affordable rates, but
some people aren't ready for that t,o start with; they go
because it's all they can afford. And, because ofmy own
experience with what I would call extremely inept
thempists, I know that sometimes inexpensive therapy
isn't necessarily good therapy. I know/ can give good,
empathetic therapy, and it will be affordable.
I believe this is God's plan for me, and it makes me
happy that HE chose me t,o do this.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

You took my identity.
You stole it away from me.
Now I don't know who I am.
I don't know what my dreams were then - if I even
had any.
I don't know what I wanted to become.
So many choices I thought were mine weren't.
I thought I chose not to have sex until I was 19.
That turned out to be your choice.
I wanted to have 3 or 4 children.
You ravaged my body and I wasn't granted that choice.
Who am I? What am I all about?
I feel like an empty shell.
I go about doing what is expected of me, not knowing
why.
I have to eat, so I cook.
I have to pass my classes, so I study.
I have to be friendly, so I put a smile on my face.
I have to have goals, so I pretend to set some.
I've never felt like I belong here on earth.
I've never felt at home here on earth.
I've never felt like I belong anywhere.
I feel depression swallowing me up.
I try to fight it.
For what? Why?
I feel like I'm living inside a dark, ·musty, hovering
cloud.
It's uncomfortable.
It feels stifling, suffocating.
I'm supposed to be healing and finding myself.
How can I find me if I don't know who I'm looking for?
I don't know who I am.
I don't know what I'm all about.
Where. do I find me?
How do I know when I find me?
You took my identity and I feel like nobody.
You took my identity and I don't know who the real me
is.
You took my identity and I don't know where to find it
now.
You took my identity, my childhood, and most ofmy
adulthood.
Please give me back my identity!
I need it now.
I want to know who I am, what I am, and why.

If
If I close my eyes, he won't see me.
If I keep my eyes open, I1l see him coming to get me.
If I stop breathing, he won't hear me.
If I breathe, I feel the pain.
If I make myself real small, he won't find me.
If I make myself invisible, he can't play tricks on me.
If I close my mouth tight, he won't poke stuff in it.
If I speak up, no one will hear.
If I cross my legs tight, he can't get between them.
If I wear jeans, he can't get in ???
If I cry real hard, he'll feel sorry for me.
If I laugh at anything, he'll think I'm having fun.
If I tell anyone, I'll disappear forever.
If I don't tell someone, I'm "lost" forever.
If I love daddy, I'll do what he wants me to.
If I want daddy to love me, I'll let him hurt me.
If I wasn't such a bad girl, he wouldn't hurt me.
If I learn to be a good girl, he'll treat me nicer.
If I crawl way back in the closet, he won't get me.
If I hide under the bed, he won't look for me there.
If I pretend to be asleep, he'll leave me alone??
If I am awake, he'll crawl in beside me.
If I scream as loud as I can, he'll hit me.
If I scream inside me, no one will hear and I'll be safe.
If I cling to Mom, hfll keep his hands off me.
If I had Grandma live here, I'd be safe all the time.
If I shut my bedroom door, he can't come in???
If I could just lock the bathroom door, I could bathe in safety.
If I were fat-real fat-he'd leave me alone.
If I look ugly and old, he won't want me.
If I ever have sex with anyone else, he'll kill me.
If I ever want children, he's taken that choice away from me.
If I am so worthless and bad, why am I here?
If there really is a GOD, why does he let this go on?
If there really is a GOD, why doesn't he take the mean man away?
If Mom dies, what will happen to me?
If Mom weren't so naive, she'd see what he's doing.
If I'm not safe in my own home, where am I safe?
If I'm not safe in my own body, where am I safe?
If I'm not safe in my own head, where am I safe?
If I killed him, who would understand or help me?
If I don't kill him, how will I keep from being killed?

IF I DIED, he would still find a way to get me.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

39

Do You Know What It's Uke?
DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO
live in a body that doesn't feel like mine?
live with a mind that doesn't feel like mine?
make a decision and wait to be condemned for it?
have 50 different things whirling around in my head at once and I can't center on one single thought?
be 48 and realize I've never had a life of my own?
never have had a childhood because I was made a woman at the age of 5?
be unable to trust my choices because someone else always made the choices for me before?
. . . feel I've made a right choice, but some inner voice(s) tells me it's wrong?
want my own children, but to know I can't have any, because of his abortions on me?
look back at my 48 years and be able to claim nothing as mine - everything I've done seems to be a direct result of what he
did to me? Even my accomplishments feel like failures to me.
be afraid to go to bed because of the memories that may come?
feel powerless -AGAIN - because I can't take him to court for raping me for 12 years and for killing my babies??
feel re-abused when I "remember" what he did?
have the excruciating body memories when I "remember"?
want to die time after time so I don't have to suffer any more/again?
hurt to the very core of my being?
love and believe in God, but 1¥1te him for letting this happen to me?
feel like such a success and such a failure at the same time?
feel like my entire life belongs to someone else, not me?
feel terrified of growing old with no children to love me, to comfort me, to care about me?
feel alone even when surrounded by people?
feel such deep, genuine hate for my body?
despise myself for being too weak-willed to quit eating wrong and to quit smoking?
want inner peace and contentment desperately; but, every time I think I've accomplished that, along comes another memory
or someone confusing me, and it's shattered?
have so much love to give, but I can't trust anyone enough to let them get close to me so I can give it?
hear what people are saying to me, but not be able to believe them?
feel so out of touch with my feelings - I wonder if there are any?
want to laugh and have fun, but there's nothing funny in my life or about my life?
feel so frustrated to get this therapy over with, but there seem to be memories coming up every time I think I'm about done;
and there seems to be no end to body and psyche parts that need work and healing, also?
look into a mirror and see a pretty woman, then the next time - maybe just a few minutes later - look at the ugliest, most
worthless bitch in the world in that mirror?
be humiliated by being bawled out in front of friends/family, for no reason?
have to go fix fence, feed cows, pull weeds throughout the entire pasture (after the flood), and do chores like aboy, instead
of doing girl stuff?
have to give him a feel of my tits or let him grope my groin so I could go to a picture show or some school function, or to get
my allowance?
be going through all the hell I've gone through the past seven years and wonder why I continue?
wonder if it ever ends?
feel like there are more than just me occupying my body/mind? I do, say, react to things and later wonder why - what I
respond with is so unlike me - it's real scary.
feel so proud of myself for what I've accomplished, then Mom says I'm "wallowing" in this stuff, and it's been like an anvil
landed on me and I can't get over the hurt, bewilderment, devastation that caused me.
be told one thing, then something else totally contradictory? The confusion that causes is enormous.
want to be cared for, but I've been the care giver and protector for all my life, and I don't know how to ask to be cared for?
want to just lay down and hope to never wake up?
feel positive and negative about life at the same time? I can't seem to separate them.
end this feeling that I haven't covered everything yet? I have to end it sometime, so now is a good time.

40

Number 1

In Search of Healing

qrnneMarie
Illinois
When I was twelve years of age, I was rrwlested by my cousin. At age nineteen, I was raped by an
aquaintance. But even worseforme, I was sexually, physically, verbally and emotionally abused by my
rrwther from the time I was a baby. Also, I was often neglected. The physical and sexual abuse stopped when
I was about thirteen years old.
I now understand the depth of my rrwther's mental illness. Because of this, I hold no anirrwsity toward
her. But, now that I am beginning to remember parts ofmy past, it rrwkes being with her extremely difficult.
I am learning with the help of an excellent therapist to set boundaries - boundaries I had never know
before - by limiting the arrwunt of time I spend with my rrwther.

A Gift for Mommy

Silence

I made Mommy a necklace out of some plastic beads
when I was only four years old. Mommy was busy ironing in
the kitchen. I ran into her with the beaded gift in my small
hands. She didn't want to be bothered by a little girl and her
childish jewelry.
I wanted Mommy's attention, approval and acceptance
so .desperately. I kept nagging at her to notice me and my
gift. I accidentally knocked over the sprinkling bottle. It was
the old fashioned type that used a glass soda bottle with a
cork top for the sprinkler.
The bottle fell to the floor and broke into several
pieces. Mommy was furious with me! She jerked me by my
hair and dragged me off into the.bedroom. Mommy stripped
me naked and tied me spread-eagle to the bed.
I knew better than to utter a sound for that would only
make matters worse for me, but inside I was terrified.
Mommy disappeared briefly. When she returned, she had a
piece of the broken glass in her hand. Mommy calmly said
to me, "I'll teach you not to disturb me when I'm busy and
not to break things." Mommy then took the piece of glass
and shoved it inside me. The pain was unbearable! The
blood frightened me even more.
I wanted to scream and cry; but I knew better than to
break anything else ever again, including Mommy's rule
about silence. I could only cry inwardly and scream without
a voice.
I have no idea whatever happened to that beaded
necklace, but it was the last one I ever made.

Silence holds the family secrets.
Silence keeps the skeletons in their closets.

In Search of Healing

"What goes on in this house is our business!"
"Don't you ever tell anybody about ... !"
Silence breeds fear and teaches shame.
Silence protects those who hurt us.
"Keep your lying mouth shut!"
"Who'd believe a dumb kid like you?"
Silence leads to self-blame and guilt.
Silence hides the tears and the pain inside.
"Be quiet, you little brat!"
"Don't you dare make a sound!"
Silence breaks the heart and destroys the spirit.
Silence leaves us alone in confused agony.

Number 1

41

Chrystie
Ont:a.rio, Canada
This series of dmwings represents a regular
occurrence in my life as·a child. It was a ritual which
occurred several times a week when I was between the
ages of two andfive.
The dmwing_s can be seen in a matter of minutes,
but it took me one year ofpainstaking agony to' retrieve
this experience. It came in bits and pieces of disjointed
pictures and much body pain. One cia,y, in session with
my therapis~ I exciliimed, ''I've got it! It was a
ceremony!"
I decided to confront Mother. .I wanted her to
validate my experience and tell me whal had happened
there. However, I was afmid thal ifI said even one thing
wrong, she would jump on thal detai~ to invalidate
everything. So I drew itfor her and wrote the words.
It was a silent confrontation. I turned the pages,
while she read. The words were in Ukrainian, our
native language. My parents, being immigrants, did not
speak or read English well
When it was over, she looked at me and said,
''What's this supposed to be?" She then went on for an
hour, trying to: convince me thal no child was as well
caredfor as twas.
I asked her to leave.

Presented person to person Aug 7/1988

For Mother

•

~Ol-{1

C
From her little girl,
Chzystie

42

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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In Search of Healing

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Number 1

43

You used
to lead
me out
of my room

44

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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hummed and whispered
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In Search of Healing

Number 1

45

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puton
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46

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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You used to undress me and
put me naked on that table

In Search of Healing

Number 1

47

)

YOU ALWAYS STOOD HERE

It was as if
I were not a person.
I knew all these people
during the day.

48

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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Number 1

49

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something
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like
ashes,
on
my

naked
body.

I
hated
it.

50

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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and usually whispered and hummed together

Number 1

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5

Number 1

In Search of Healing

And you drew things
with a sharp object
on my naked body.
That really hurt
as though someone
were sending
electricity
through me.

BUT YOU NEVER LEFT ANY MARKS.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

53

,~

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f

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Number 1

In Search of Healing

AND YOU, MOTHER
often held me down
while these people theseour friends did these things to me

In Search of Healing

Number 1

55

AND TIIlS IS HOW
HE-

YOU KNOW WHO LOVED ME
And you all stood there
in a circle
.andlooked

AND YOU DID, TOO

In Search of Healing

Number 1

57

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At the end, you wiped me off, put on my clothes,
and you led me back to my bed to sleep.

58

Number 1

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H,; lit
Ht

1-11'1 or o

/J, I 6 II O C ~
Mr½ ne fe.
During the day
everyone behaved
as though
nothing
had happened
the night
before

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efl
1:::-----------

I

60

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This

event
happened
regularly,

Mother!

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Barbara Rose
Minnesota
The Lump
There is a lump in my throat; it nags and it lingers. It
feels like my entire body is sending all of its energy, anxiety
and panic to one spot at the base of my throat where my
neck connects to my chest. This is a familiar feeling, and it
has come and gone before on many occasions in my adult
life.
This lump in my throat is not leaving; it is with me night
and day. I can't seem to get rid of it this time. But yet there
is a way to rid myself of it once and for all and that time has
come, for the lump is ready - it is time - it is tired of
continually being tucked away. I am ready; it is safe now.
I relax comfortably, sitting and closing my eyes. The
memory is beckoning, pleading to be released, screaming to
be heard. I immediately become four years old, dressedin
my favorite cowgirl outfit. Today is a special day at nursery
school; pictures are being taken and I want to feel extra
special. As luck would have it, my favorite boy friend,
Jimmy C., is wearing his cowboy outfit, and we have so
much fun playing cowboy and cowgirl together. He lets me
wear his hat and we squeal with dt!light chasing each other.
Picture time comes and goes, then lunch time, and then we
pull out our blankets to rest.
Nap time, blinds closed, the cool floor, relief. As nap
time ends, we begin to stir, whispering and giggling. The
excitement increases until the teachers give in to our
exuberance.
Story time, play time, snack time. Too soon, the special
day is over. I am filled with contentment as I prepare to
walk home. We live three houses away from nursery school,
and I always feel like such a big girl to be able to walk home
without anyone having to pick me up. I wave goodbye to my
teachers, and as I walk out the door I realize that today will
be different. He is there. Standing outside his car with the
'front windows rolled down and his hands in his pockets.
There is nowhere to run. I already know that he is
bigger, faster and more powerful than I. He opens his door
and signals - come along before I get impatient. He is
already agitated; I can see it in his face. I don't want to
make him mad, too. As I climb into the car I greet him softly
- Hello Uncle Al. Sick and trembling, I sit in the front seat
as he starts the car and begins slowly driving.
His hand reaches over and sliaes my favorite cowgirl
skirt up, so that my bare legs are touching the vinyl seat
cover. He separates my legs, and puts his hand into my
underpants and begins playing with my private parts. I split.
There is a convenient spot by the light on the ceiling of the
car from where I can watch.

The drive is a short one to the dead end on the little
girl's street. He stops the car, and as I look down I can see
that look on his face. He removes his hand from her
underwear and orders the four year old to the back seat.
She does not move quickly enough, and he angrily picks her
up and throws her into the back. He follows close behind. I
can't see whether or not the little girl is struggling beneath
his body, and I want to fight for her. I hear the zip as he
pulls his fly down and feel the soft part of his body touch
her face. I get glimpses of him forcing his penis into her tiny
mouth. Cramming it down her throat as she struggles to
breath, gagging, suffocating. It does not take him long to get
complete gratification from this attack, and his body thrusts
into her face as he groans in pleasure. She appears to be
unconscious. As he moves away, she begins to come to life,
choking, gagging and struggling to breathe, gasping for air.
As she gags to throw up he shoots her that "don't you dare"
look, and remembering even more pain she obeys.
Swallowing, she chokes down that thick sticky mass that
fills her mouth and throat. I return now. I am back in my
body and watch as he zips up his pants and climbs back into
the front seat. He starts the car and drives me home. As I
numbly climb out of the car he hands me a lollipop and
says, "Be a good girl; don't get into any cars with strangers."
The lump in my throat explodes. I scream, the four
year old screams and finally there is relief.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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Submissions must be the original work of the author or artist submitting. Contributors younger than 18 years of age must
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4. Writing in any language is accepted. Provide an English translation if at all possible.
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Survivors need 4UIZV/Vf1f<
"I'm listening to a lot of war stories, listening to the terror. Whatever you don't talk about in your conscious
life is going to get stored, and when your brain and body can't take it all, it's going to come out somewhere
This is burnout with the same kinds of symptoms our clients have."
•
Secondary PTSD: Beyond Burnout

"Sexual abuse is a term I associate with red flannel pajamas, a junior prom and my mother. Like most people,
I used to think of sexual abuse as unwanted sexual intercourse, but I have learned there are other ways to
inflict sexual pain."
When Sexual Abuse Is More Than Touching

"What happens to a person who has been sexually abused in a language other than the dominant language of
this countzy, English? Let me illustrate through my own experience."
Language, Triggers and Loss

"One of the best reasons to believe survivors' memories is because believing initiates and enhances healing.
As survivors begin to remember the specific abuses they lived through, they begin to heal. That is the
miracle. All the cognitive therapy, dmg therapy and behavioral reinforcement that survivors have tried just
do not work like GETTING THE MEMORIES."
Believing Heal<;

Want more?
Turn the page for subscription information.

~

Ask your bookseller to order ~t!RV/vtJR.

Survivor Press
PO Box 30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190 USA

Bulk Rate
US Postage
PAID
Albuquerque, ·NM
Permit No. 403



Volume l, Number 1

1993
$5 USA; $5.75 outside USA

In Search ofHealing is created by
Jiivanii, Editor
Martha Chambers, Copyeditor
Mazy "Tinker" Colby, Typesetter and Designer
Caro]ynne Colby-Schmeltzer, Typesetter and Designer
Lynn McColl, Proofreader
Kathryn Prince, Sales Representative
Front Cover: When I Let Myself, I Paim - Watercolor painting with ink by Martha Chambers
Editor's Essay: Toward the Far Shore - Pencil drawing by Daniel Wright
Green Pages Cover: At Harne - Ink drawing by Joseph Chavez

Many thanks to:

Arnold and Deborah of Arnold Litho for their unwavering spiritual and :financial support
Wendy Fidao, LlSW, EDD for her generous :financial gift

In Search ofHealing is a publication of the Survivor Press.
All Rights Reseived. Copyright 1993.
Please do not reproduce any part of this publication
without prior pe:rnp.ssion unless for the purpose of review.

•The mission of the SUIVivor Press is
to promote the healing of people
suffering from the effects of sexual abuse,
empower sUIVivors and prosUIVivors,
stimulate communication within the recovery community,
and increase public awareness
of sexual violence and recovery.

The Survivor Press
PO Box30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190 USA
• ''vulneratus, non victus-wounded, not conquered"

In Search of Healing is a periodical
anthology of writing and art for the purpose of
healing sexual abuse. All material is
contributed by people who are in recovery
from child sexual abuse and by their
supporters. Disclosure of the abuse, even from
years ago, is essential to recovery. Through
creative forms, people who are healing can
express the inexplicable.
S9me selections are extremely graphic. All
are written or drawn from the victim's point of
view, presenting a different perspective on
sexual violence than what is usually conveyed
in the mainstream news and art media.
It is critical that these voices be heard in a
simple, compassionate act of bearing witness.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

3

Editor's Essay:
Toward the Far Shore
Today I read a first person account of a woman who fought for her life and is now recovering from a devastating brain
hemorrhage. She said what so many who have catastrophic health problems say: "This changed my life."
I cried as I read that and realized that I, too, am going through a tremendous life-changing upheaval with recovery from
sexual abuse. I think I'm a survivor twice over, once from the original abuse and again as I go through recovery. Both are
wrenching, profoundly painful experiences.
But, as I unload the destruction from my body and mind, I am becoming aware of a new, genuine psychological wellbeing
I've never known before. This unaccustomed state shows up in many ways, but one in particular strikes me as being especially
rewarding: my changing relationship with other human beings.
One day, I told my spouse of a particularly selfish thing another person said. The succinct response was, "Well, I sure
wouldn't want to be in a flood with her."
I thought about that.
Recovery is a terrible flood of misery and loss, as devastating psychospiritually as when the creek rises. And we all respond,
at times as heroes, at times as jerks. The attitude that some of us deserve to get on the boat and others don't is a heady weapon.
The truth of the matter is that everyone deserves to get on the boat, because we are all human beings. Just check your guns at
the dock, please.
I remember a story I heard years ago attributed to the Buddha, who told a seeker, "The Dharma is like a little boat. Once you
get to the other shore you no longer need it." I didn't understand it, but I thought it was a great image to ponder. The trouble
was, even though I did some powerful pondering, my little boat always stayed moored on this side, and it was empty, too.
I couldn't even see myself in it.
Now, as I thrash about in this terrible flood of memories and
accept the losses, I see not only myself in the boat, but
many, many more people, plus lots of teddy bears
and dogs, cats, birds, goldfish .. . and
we're all rowing, every one of us!
Poet Anne Sexton, both victim and perpetrator,
alluded to "the awful rowing toward God." I think she
must have been rowing by herself, and that is why
she committed suicide. The recovery movement
gives us the opportunity to do this "awful
rowing" together, in the same little boat,
to fulfill our essential nature as
healthy spiritual beings.
And we row, with all our radical differences
and unifying commonalities, our heroism
and jerkiness, through the terrifying
flood, toward the far shore:
toward the God of our
understanding and healing.

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In Search of Healing

Abby Ovitsky
California
I am a survivor of chil,dlwod sexual abuse and have been in therapy a quarter of my life. As my birth and foster
families perpetrated the abuse, and continue w deny it ever happened, I have cut ties with them The hardest part of
healing is supporting myself while I explore the painful menwries. But, if I don't, no one will. Therapy, bodywork,
twelve step and publications like yours help a great deal Isolation has always been part of the abuse.

Moma

Slugger

She stood not five feet.
The shame she dragged around curved spine and tugged at
shoulders. Hair the color of dirty snow thinned like a
blighted lawn in the drought. Bird shaped face and downy
skin covered with the graffiti of life: each worry had
left its
mark, crease, groove,
furrow, pit, gouge,
score, nick, dent.

You packed a mean punch
without raising a hand.
Head blows.
You didn't stop
until the blood ran
out of my ears.

New Toy
I was your ultimate ego trip.
I was your innocence, returned to you.
I thought you were God. And
you thought I was a new toy.

Pickmeup
I am just a little girl. And Daddy is big and strong. Pick me up, Daddy! Pick me up! But Daddy says I am too big. I am too big and
he is too tired and not now.
I am a bigger little girl now. I get on airplanes all by myself. And I am only scared sometimes, like when I am by myself and there
is nobody I know and I don't know what is going to happen next and nobody sees dr hears me. Just sometimes.
Now I am an even bigger little girl. I can decide where I want to live. I don't have to live with Daddy anymore.
There is a strange man. Come with me, he is saying. Why? Where? For how long? I asked. We'll see, he said with a smile, we'll
see. I didn't like his smile, but I didn't know what else to do, so I went with him. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I was scared,
but I didn't tell anybody because I didn't know who to tell.
Would you like to live here with me? asked the man. I didn't know. I guess so, I said. Good, he said, then you will stay. For how
long? Where will I sleep? Will I have my own room? Will you be my Daddy now? But the man just smiled that smile. Then, after a
while, he pulled me onto the bed. What are you doing? I asked him. But the man didn't say anything. He was pulling my shirt off.
Why are you doing that? Why? But the man didn't say anything. I wanted to get away, but he held me down. I cried. Then he
took his pants off. I cried louder. But the man just said be quiet, I cah't concentrate when you are crying. I didn't understand. I
just cried some more. Then there was sticky stuff all over me. I didn't know what it was. When the man was gone and I was
alone, I cried. The man came back again. And again. And I cried and cried. There was no where to go and no one to tell and
nothing to do, so I cried.
Then one day Daddy came. And took me away from the man.

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5

Christine Kidney
Connecticut
I am a survivor of sexual abuse. At present I am in therapy for this hideous crime that was
committed against me. I wrote the following during one ofmy depressed moods. I showed it to
my therapist and she suggested that I get it published, so other survivors can relate to it.

When you were young you were a big part of your family.
When I was young I was invisible.
When you were young you were bounced on someone's knee.
When I was young I was on someone's knee while he sat there and fondled me.
When you were young when you got hurt you got love and affection.
When I was young and got hurt, I was told not to cry.
When you were young and in trouble, things were talked about.
When I was young and in trouble, I was told to shut up and got slapped across the face.
When you were young you had your childhood friends.
When I was young my friends were taken away from me.
When you were young you were playing with toys.
When I was young I had adults playing with me.
When you were young you had dreams.
When I was young I had nightmares.
When you were young you had your parents' love and support.
When I was young I had silence.
When you were young you knew who you were.
When I was young I was in constant turmoil.
When you were young you had innocent experiences.
When I was young I had experiences that no child should have to experience.
When you were young you had sweethearts, boyfriends.
When I was young I was not allowed, after all, if we kissed, what would we do when we were alone.
As an adult, you have stability.
As an adult I have instability.
As an adult, you can love.
As an adult I don't know how.
As an adult, you see some light.
As an adult I can see only darkness.
· As an adult, you can feel emotions.
As an adult I can't feel.
As an adult, you feel fulfilled and alive.
As an adult I feel empty and dead.

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Jill Bensley
California
I am an incest survivor who did not remember the abuse until just two years ago at the age of 44. Since that
time I have been through therapy and the gut wrenching memories that have disclosed the horrors of my
childhood and the formerly blank years when the incest occurred. My father was the perpetrator. He is dead now.
He began the abuse when I was just rrwnths old and continued until I was eight. He also raped and abused my
older sister. She is schizophrenic now and does not remember what happened to her. My family is completely
unsupportive, save my brother, who is 8 years younger. Apparently, he was not abused.
During the most intense part of my healing, I wrote poetry, I now have a 140 page book which I plan to self
publish sometime next year. The poems I enclose are from this body of work. I have enclosed several types of
poems. (I understand that some presses do not like to publish graphic expressions of abuse.) I do not wish to use
a pen name.
I am very happy to see so many new journals and maga..zines appearing exposing the horrors we endured.
Hopefully it will finally bring an end to childhood sexual abuse.

Breakfast At Carl's

Autumn

Sitting here in Carl's this morning
spicy bacon in the air
I see myself
reflected in your shine

Something in the fall shadowed pavement
the oaks mottled in the afternoon sun
errant leaves skipping in the wind
saddens me to the core.

the crooked teeth
shiny, thick hair
M &M eyes
feathery brows, perfectly shaped
your spunk, your kid-ness
a painless version of me

The change of wind
the change of seasons
makes me small, aching in the bones
weary with world knowledge
beyond my young age
the grown-up child
with the tender body
that crumbles in the autumn wind.

Eight years old - the year he stopped
the time henceforth he would try to make it up to me
mademoiselle dolls, expensive toys
jaguars, trips to Italy, clothes allowance ...
you never could, dad
you couldn't make me shine
make my eyes sparkle
my face light up
the way my son's does
this morning in Carl's.

In Search of Healing

(Comfortable napping in my brain
curled like a kitten
childhood incest
mom condoning it
aunts and uncles ignoring it).
Like the layers of an onion
outrage and sadness
deepens with each passing autumn
burrows
down
down
deep down
until it will, someday,
hit bottom.

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7

Grandma Snake
You slither along
breasts sagging, dragging
loose flesh hanging on brittle bones
like a cheap overcoat.
Snake in the grass
snake in my skull
poised in the space
that tells me who I am what I'm worth.
Ready to strike
fangs puncture my brain
indelible, your poison,
''Dirty, evil girl
Never tell"

The Rules
In order to stay alive
and not disappear,
and being an extremely bright
and alert three year old,
I learned the rules
after only one attack.

I won't, grandma srwke
Naw I'm just like you!

l. Let Daddy put his penis in your mouth.
2. Let Daddy hump you until gooey stuff comes out of his
thing.
3. Let Daddy put stuff in your 'gina til it bleeds.
4. Never tell anyone.
5. Never scream.
6. Never kick or bite or hit him.
7. You may cry quietly, but don't wake anyone.
8. You may tell him you hate him and to stop.
(Of course, he won't.)
9. You must let him do this anytime he comes in the
night.
10. If you don't obey the rules, Daddy will kill you.
11. He does this because you are bad.

Waiting Is The Hardest Part
It wasn't the rapes
that were the hardest part.
I numbed my little body to those.
It was the waiting,
the terror in the night
the question in the reveries before sleep:
Will it be tonight?
Will he scare me into numbness again
with his foul scotch breath
and his sweaty, hairy, heavy body?
His limp/hard/angry dick,
his grabbing hands and raspy voice
Will it be tonight?
Will I make it through the night?
Will I die before I wake?
When will he leave again
and let my little self recover
give me time to numb once more
to allow me to survive and
grow up to be a person
to sleep safely, dream of flowers
and green fields and a childhood
I will never know.

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My UttleOne

Reginald L. Walker
New Mexico

I'm so very sorry, my little one
it happened
no, you're not ugly
and there's nothing wrong
with your body.
I'm so very sorry, my little one
they betrayed and abandoned you
I lmow it hurts
but it's all over now
they can never do it again.
I'm so very sorry, my little one
but it wasn't even their fault
they were so mixed up and _unhappy
probably because
somewhere
they hurt just like you.
I'm glad we're grown up now
can control our life
but the ache, the hollow remains
and we need to have it,
you and I, together
so we can be ourselves and grow up.
I'm so sorry, my little one
you deserved none of this
you were so lovely and sweet
worthy of all the love you never got.
I lmow they loved you
as they could
it was just too mixed up
and it was never, never enough.
(no, my little one,
you don't need too much,
you need like a little girl).

I am presently incarcerated at Western New Mex'ico
Correctional Facility. I am a bl,ack male 35 years old,
andjrom 6-11 years o/,d I was a victim of incest by my
mother's twin uncles in Columbus, Georgia. I've only
been writing poetry 2 years on a serious level. And with
pain and courage I've learned to express so many of
these negative feelings I suppressed for over 25 years.
In fact it wasn't until I started writing poetry that I was
able to confront that shameful part ofmy life. The hurt
and pain is still there, but I'm dealing with the issues of
guil4 pity and dejection, and the one question I'll never
have an answer for- Why Me? I grew up a single chi/,d
to a single paren4 my mother. And only recently about
18 months ago did I come clean with her and tell her
about everything, and guess what? Her reaction was
total denial and defense against my cmifession. I'm not
in any type of therapy on a clinical level; my therapy is
my writing of poetry. Writing allows me that inner
peace for dealing with my problem and is aform of
escape from behind these prison walls!

Deaf by Rape
My insides
sing a sad
chorus line
of no feelings.

No words.
No flutes of softness.
No effects of sound.
Justa
mute note
only a
victim can hear.

I love you

I will always
be there.

And what
i heard
was lost
ina tear.

In Search of Healing

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9

Self Portraits
Anonymous
New Mexico

"WIPE THAT LOOK OFF YOUR FACE!"
I heard that many, many times. What look? I didn't know what I was doing wrong, didn't understand why my face
a?1{J(!~c! t~e1'J'l!_W I'd look down at my feet, try to hide, look blank, look beyond, around, away.

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In Search of Healing

But then l'dforget.
SLAP!

"Don't give me
that
look!"

Miat look?
Maybe the look
on these faces, of my inner kids,
hurting and
wanting

to know
why.

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Why are you hurting me?
Why do you sell me out?
12

Why do you dress me up, like a dol4 disguise me in wigs, makeup, costumes?

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In Search of Healing

Why do you torture, terrorize me into silence?
Why do you do horrible, horrible things at night?
Why is this happening?
Why?

Is that the look that they hated so?
I used to be ashamed that I couldn't really hide my feelings, no matter how I tried.
It still showed.
I don't want to be ashamed anymore. Ever again.

In Search of Healing

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13

Teresa Smith

Dorian Bloom

Kentucky

New Mexico

Look into the mirror
Ofmypast
Broken glass
Distorting life
A little girl
An empty canvas
Smeared with black paint
By a monster who wears glasses
And a tie
Into a portrait of the pain
That I am
Forever
The preacher says forgiveness
Is everything
But how can I forget
The bitterness
The nightmare
That's tattooed in my brain
I can't live up
To what you expect
But someday
I could be
A reflection of your heart.

Shadow Play
Shadows
steal into deadbolted chain-locked
rooms guarded by
watchers who look
the other way
Shadow Play
throws silhouetted fear
walls of my gingerbread
house built
of
story-time with Daddy

Age3
Mommy was there
ever an upper room
with pretty yellow wallpaper and .
a slanted ceiling where me and brother played Raggedy
Ann and Andy for hours and hours when we
didn't know where we were
and I wondered when you'd come for us
Mommy was there
ever a man in dark brown pajamas who
stood in the doorway of a strange
room where I was sleeping and
handed me my Raggedy
which had fallen on the floor
Mommy was there
ever really a Raggedy Ann
and did I really not mind it that
she kept smiling even with
the semen in her hair and
the nickels on my pillow

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In Search of Healing

The Innocent
Storytellers and Poets
have told us
the Unicorn comes

daddy daddy
and virgin voices
are smothered
in obeisance
and terror
of
losing daddy

to the innocent
in dreams and fairy tales
the Unicorn appears
from far off worlds
and magical dimensions
to baptize the purity
of the innocent
storybook virginal
princess waiting
for her fairy tale
stolen held hostage ransomed always
in the nick of time
the Unicorn comes
with uncompromised surety
bows majestic at her feet
to sanctify the purity
she is innocent
and her charming prince in shining armor
is assured the glass-slippered
snow-white sleeping beauty
is worthy
is innocent
permitted to live
Happily Ever After
But I know that
Happily Ever After
is a crock of shit
I found out Once
Upon A Time that
Happily Ever Afters
do not come to those
who cannot claim a
beginning and Once Upon A
Time is mired in
bed-time nightmare
where the Unicom never appears
to little princesses
in semen-stained panties smelling
of daddy

In Search of Healing

daddy daddy
but Christ I need
to believe in the Unicorn
that comes to virgins and children
even if I was never either
If I can believe
in the Unicom I can believe
in innocence
and the magic
of being unafraid

and maybe if I
wish real hard
I can find the place
inside me
that is
innocent
and maybe just maybe
I can whisper from the silence
that I believe the Unicorn will come
and I will see the gentle eyes
and sure-footed strength
of unabashed purity
and I will dare to call it
innocence
and I will know
those eyes are mine

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Yasmin Spencer
New Mexico
Througlwut my fourteen years of life I have been
abused immensely. I hope my poetry can be
appreciated and understood.
I don't mind my name or age being put on any of
my poems. I would like it if I were to receive any
response orfeedback for my work. This took me a lot of
courage.

CAN YOU SEE ME
WITHOUT THIS MASK I PORTRAY
THAT LAYS SO THICK THAT WHEN
YOU THINK YOU'VE FOUND ME
YOU'VE MERELY FOUND ANOTHER MASK
THERE'S NOTHING MUCH TO SAY
CAN YOU FEEL ME
WHEN YOU LIE IN BED AT NIGHT
FEEL MY EYES UPON YOUR BRUISED BODY
AND KNOW THE TRUE YOU
WILL YOU KILL ME WHEN YOU KNOW ME
OR WILL YOU SCREAM IN HAPPINESS
EITHER IS ALRIGHT WITH ME
I AM SUCHA MESS

IT'S COLD IN THIS DARK ROOM
BUT NOT AS COLD AS YOU
I'M TRAPPED IN THIS DARK ROOM
ALL I CAN SEE IS YOU
I DIED IN THIS DARK ROOM
WHEN YOU RIPPED MY HEART IN TWO
I WAS RAPED IN THIS DARK ROOM
I WAS RAPED BY YOU
YOU WILL DIE IN THIS DARK ROOM
I WILL KILL YOU

AS I SCREAM I CLUTCH TO MY VALUES
WHICH WERE TORN FROM ME
AS WELL AS MY CLOTHES
HOW COULD ONE THING TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME
HOW CAN THIS SELFISH RAPIST DO THIS TO ME
ALL MY DIGNITY TORN AWAY
HOW COULD YOU CUT MY BREASTS
AND MAKE ME FEEL LIKE NOTHING
HOW DARE YOU SAY I'M WORTHLESS
FOR YOU ARE LESS THAN ME
HOW DARE YOU KILL MY SOUL
THAT USED TO SING SO FREE
I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU HAVE DONE
I HOPE YOU LIVE IN PAIN
I HOPE YOU DIE AN AWFUL DEATH
AND LIVE YOUR LIFE IN SHAME

WILL YOU CRY WHILE IN MY ARMS
OR WILL YOU LAUGH INVAIN
FOR NEITHER WOULD YOU FEEL ALONE
AND THERE WOULD BE NO SHAME

THOUGH I'M NOT DEAD, I AM DEAD SHE SAID
FOR THERE WAS NOTHING TO SAVE HER NOW
TRAPPED IN A WHOLE MADE OF HER
HOW SHE LONGS TO BE SOMETHING MORE
TRAPPED FULL OF HERSELF AND NOTHING ELSE
HOW SHE LONGS TO BE WITH SOMEONE ELSE
REALlZING T~T WHAT SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS
SHE IS NOT
SHE SIGHED AND SAID, I AM SO ALONE
WITHOUT MYSELF

16

YOU GAVE ME MY EYES
MY EYES OF ICE
YOU GAVE ME MY CLAIM
MY CLAIM IS INSANE
YOU GAVE ME MY NAME
MY NAME IS SHAME
YOU GAVE ME MY FEAR
TO SEE YOUR FACE
YOU GAVE ME THE TERROR
OF THAT HELPLESS EMBRACE
BUT ALL YOU GOT WAS ME

Number 1

In Search of Healing

TELL ME WHAT I AM TO SAY
TELL ME HOW I AM TO FEEL
WHEN NOTHING EVER IS FOR ME
TELL ME WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO BE
TELL ME WHAT SHOULD SHELTER ME
WHEN THERE'S NO ONE HERE FOR ME
TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE IN ME
TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW OF ME
THERE ISN'T ALL THAT MUCH OF ME

TIRED

1

I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN HATE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN FEAR
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN PAIN
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN SHAME
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN BLAME
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING A LIE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF BEING ALIVE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT RESPECT
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT FAITH
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT

TO HEAR THE WHISPER OF THE WIND
AND FEEL THE SOFT BREEZE
ALL MAKES ME FALL IN LOVE
WITH ALL I HAVE IN ME

In Search of Healing

Celeste Torra
Massachusetts

Grandfather's Hands
-for Anne
a friend spoke of a grandfather
when she of missing baby teeth and
long pony tails sat on the lap of this man
this father of her father she studied
his hands
tiny soft fingers traced
the thick purpley-blue veins in
his hands of strength
the keepers of story
twin gods that protected her
and tickling brought laughter to
her eyes
when later she ( of braces
and responsibility)
learned with tears
and leaden heart that
the grandfather died
she was content with
the remembered love of
his hands
another she also had a grandfather
when she of missing baby teeth and
long pony tails sat on the lap of this man
this father of her father she studied
his hands
tiny fingers learned to trust
his hands of strength
twin gods that betrayed then hurt
and brought no laughter
callous gods of anger
which made secrets to be kept in
her eyes
when later she ( of braces
and responsibility)
learned with tears
and sorrowful heart that
the grandfather died
she regretted she did not have
the memory of love of
his hands

Number 1

17

After Ufe

Good Morning

lor my grandlather

wake up, girl
and pull out your pony tails - put on a pair of pants under
that dress and make the belt extra tight Don't look at the
ceiling when he's on top of you
(heavyanddroolingspitoutthesideofhismouth) stare right
into his dead lights and show him you're stronger (maybe
it'll scare him) Stand stronger still when he takes you to the
woods - kick him in the balls and smack the star-shaped
wallet to the ground when he offers you quarters as ransom
for you soiled childhood KICK and HIT and SCREAM LIKE
HELL when he puts his hot tongue in your small ears and
when he sneaks it between your legs box his sorry ears with
your knees Don't surrender to his age and size Spit and tell
him you don't blame grandma for not letting him
touch
her
anymore
when they dress you for your birthday OON'T be their little
lady (pinkandlaceyitchingallday) Storrip your feet and kick
their shins and insist on BLACK Scream all the way
( overtheriverandthroughthewoods) to Grandfather's house
and tell them when they ask "why"
that
he's
going
to
FUCK
you
tell them with no tears and quivering lip that he's going to
reach up your pretty little skirts and inside your lace
panties (aren 'ttheyjustadorable?)
and pull of his brown slacks
and he's going to fuck you in the very next room just
like he has been since before you could walk
or curtsey
or dance like a proper ballerina-child
or tattle
YELL and SCREAM and pull out their hair and be really
fucking angry that they were too blind to see him FUCKING
their daughter (intheverynextroom)
so for now quit crying and get mad because you served
more and tears will get you nowhere Remember that pain
and save it for a rainy day
when you can call them all on killing you.

18

Yesterday I hated you,
wanting fire to consume you and pain to control you.
Your hands tore my childhood from me,
your lips kissed away carefree innocence.
The secrets you had planted in my heart
tore in thorns and blood at my soul,
and I was expected to love you.
Today you were lain before me,
and I struggled to understand you.
Your prickly cheeks were sunken in,
your eyes were dead and
your heavy shoes thrown into a Salvation army bin.
Under my scrutiny you were still your lips quiet and unthreatening,
your calloused hands drained of their former power.
Free from your fettering command I see you
and finally you live to me.
I hear your mourning song of desperate dissonance.
I see your dreams covered in dust and sprinkled with
burning sorrow.
I feel your thirst for time and contentment,
and I'm no longer expected to love you.
*

*

*

So now my heart is torn
between wanting to love you and not having to.
I have no fear of your hurtful hands
or your pitiful eyes.
If I can understand you,
why do I still fear you late at night or when I see Grandma struggling to be done with you?
I can't escape you I visit your house, I carry your wallet.
My father is your son,
complete with the scars you gave him.
Your smile, your chin, your hairline
stare at me in unison from my mirror.
I can't forget you, or the pain you included us in.
I lost my chance to hate you to scream in your saddened face and
tear out your thinned hair.
You left me alone to figure you out I want to love you.
I want to feel that you loved me.
I want to be able to forgive you.
I want to feel that I'm whole.
And I want to take back what you took away.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Vickilpn
California

\

In Search of Healing

Number 1

19

...
\ ;. .

.

.·.· ,#

_,. .·

My Bed
20

Number 1

In Search of Healing

C.U. Lley
United Kingdom
These poems are but afew of many,
which have accumul,at;ed over the years.
/shan't bore you with exp!,anations
of whys and whens.

Box at Christmas
Cold, grey and wet
A birthday dress
Just for you to see
Just two of the memories
I cannot forget
Of a past full of
You and me

GOD made man
Followed closely by woman
Then got bored
So He made me.

Cattle market trips
And five a.m. calls
With me, day after day.
The smell of your lips
And _my back against walls
How I wish they would go away

Sick of His perfections,
Vent His frustrations.
What a result.

But I know you're still out there
Living and free
I wonder
If I told you
What you had done
Would you care?
And tell me
What was done
With that large part of me?

Poured rage from above,
Insults galore,
Despised all around,
So the outer
Is hardened
Penetrate THAT if you will.
Truth is, you did.

You don't build sandcastles in the snow
Yet I tried.

You've scaled the perimeter wall
The barbed wire all torn down
My defences destroyed
I'm afraid
What now?

It took time
For the sun to come out
But it shined.

To take power
Or
Live with the occupant
Will you obliterate
What little is left?
Or allow it to breathe.

My sandcastle
It melted
I found a little beach now
Not much
Many stones
The foundations are started
Soon the tide will turn
Will it reach this far?

The barbed wire wasn't there
To keep you out
- But me in.

In Search of Healing

Maybe this time I'll get to finish.

Number 1

21

I don't want your sweet words
even if they were offered.
What use?
Not that it mattered
they, alone, can't help now.

My breath is frozen
on the windowpane.
Winter is here, again.
Sorrow and tears are cold,
the fire spits along with the cat,
the sun is going.
Funny really, I should have seen it coming.

To want a revenge
would be an obvious attack,
one you expect
but that's the little you know of me.
Just to tell ofmy life
and what it means
and show you small people
would do.
What are you hiding from?

My head is wandering again.
No. Not to worry,
not from you
or indeed away,
just wandering.
I sit, stand
but it's up and gone.

My way hurts no one.

From as small as I recall
it's done this.
It paces to and fro,
enters lands, unseen
and untrave~ed;
yearns,
to see and do
so, so much more.

A million avenues, roads and dead ends
To collate
Ten thousand two hundred and fifty days
A collection of
People and words
Though mostly backs and glares
Ran abroad
Just sham
Few cares
Taken for a ride
Almost won
You've brought it around
A new file begun
How will it close?
Open, shut, gone
Or continues on and on.

Mundane tasks of life
to be completed,
mechanically,
consumes much of real time.
Ifit must be
then at least my thoughts may be my own.

What possessed people
to build on a ball
that turns upside down every day?
To live on a planet
that's only half lit
and made from water and clay.
What possessed people
to make war
and destroy.
Don't they know a better way?

22

Number 1

In Search of Healing

For you,
I'll be a wife. The one I believe,
you'd want me to be.

I've seen the clowns right up close
Kids on an elephant
And laughed

For kids,
I'll be a mum. As I see it,
the one they need.

I've seen Stonehenge on a beach
Avebury stones, Silbury hill
And laughed

For them,
I'm the daughter,
they'd rather not see.

I've seen the sea
And driven a car
Face painted animals
And laughed

Then if there's time,
and a bit left over,
I'll be me.

Who am I?
and what for?
I ask, again and again.
Who has the key?
to unlock each mind.
Here stands, today
so proud and erect,
leaning heavily
on the problems of yesterday.
Holding back
the impending doom of tomorrow.

I've teed off with apples
And rode my own bike
Seen gliders galore
And laughed
I've seen an airport and planes
With bellies so huge
And Harrods and London
And laughed
I

In three months I've seen a lifetime
It will last me for mine
And laughed enough for us all
An open door that was shut for
How long?
I laughed in my heart so loud the whole wodd should have heard

Surely body and mind
age in pace,
yet years have passed,
gone so fast,
the 'phone had a voice
yet no one spoke.
If it's all so easy
why cry?
The parcels were labelled.
One fell off.

The small, narrow man
with the large smiles
grins senselessly.
At a flower.
Unaware,
the flower buds,
blossoms,
blooms,
then dies.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

23

Cynthia Diamond
New Mexico
/first ''rememhered" my sexual abuse ahout 3 years ago. I ccmtinue to have memories th.at bring me closer to
validating my abuse. /feel th.at I have been steadily healing from the wounds caused by my molestatum, but I am by no
means through with the process.
Writing plays a very important part in my healing and growth. It enahles me to look back and see how far I have
come. It also helps me validate the ahuse and its effects because I have trouble believing th.at it happened. I tend to
minimi,ze the incest. When I see the words on paper and feel intensely ahout what I read, I can qffe,rm my experience.
I want to deny the fact th.at I was sexually molested because I have so much shame ahout it. A big part ofme
"knows" it must have been my faul4 th.at I asked for it. My shame makes it very difficult for me to acknowledge that I am
a sexual being, th.at I have sexual feelings, th.at sexuality is a normal part of being huma~t to mention the terror
and shame I feel ahout having a sexual relationship with another person!
Not being ahle to claim my sexuality also means th.at I have difficulty with intimacy. I struggle with wanting to feel
whole, wanting to claim all ofme, but not wanting to acknowledge th.at sexuality is even part of life. Yet even here I see
progress.
I am always amazed when the mament comes when I notice that I have ceased to struggle, or am ahle to make a
conscious decision to let go of something that has been painful and terrifying for as long as I can remember. Then I
know that all my years in therapy, the 5 weeks I spent in treatment last year because of my severe depression, and all
the hours of writing, drawing, walking for miles, talking to supportive friends have paid off
I wrote ''Full Moon Torment" and ''Refuge" in the first year I was remembering my incest. ''Memories" and ''Witch
Mother" were written in the past six months. I have been struggling with an eating disorder and with intense anger
toward my motherfor not caring for or protecting me. I wrote ''I'm Budding" recently with two friends ofmine. The
title was takenfrom my response to an im;:uiryjrom my poetjriend as to how I amfeeling ahout my process, my life at
this moment. I wanted to include it as an affirmation th.at I am finally feeling hopeful ahout life even though growth is
painful, after years offeeling intense despair, hopelessness ahout life and wishing daily to die.

Memories
Remember the apartment in Las Cruces
when she turned on the kitchen light
and the cockroaches were thick
as the winter coat on a collie?
She couldn't even see the dirty linoleum.
You called the Orkin Man and the next day
he sprayed the whole house
but when the cockroaches were gone
she could see the dirty linoleum.
You made her promise she would never
let the floor get so filthy again
both of you spent all weekend
on hands and knees
scrubbing until your eyes burned and your fingers ached
from the cleansing of the floor.
That linoleum hadn't looked so blue
since the day it was installed
years of grime, grease,

24

layer upon layer
like rings on a tree trunk
giving away its age
or like the unshed tears in her soul
layer upon layer,
a numbness learned in childhood.
You made her promise she would never
let her soul get so numb again
both of you spent all weekend
on your hands and knees
crying until your eyes burned and your fingers ached
from the cleansing of her soul.
Her eyes hadn't looked so blue
since the day she was born,
her soul scrubbed clean
like the floor,
after all those years of being walked on.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Full Moon Torment
Awake, it's three a.m.
Weary yet I sense the persistent
pulsing of lunar tension a tidal surge.
Conception.
Gestation of thought, action, feeling
tugs at head and heart and hands.
Between the worlds,
now consciousness slips beneath my sheets
and lays cold hands on my trembling breast.
I have been dreaming.
SEX
A shameful issue as far back as memory recalls.
Baskets of elusive, lackadaisical serpents
cunningly announce their presence
curling scaly covered vertebra through recesses marrow deep.
SEXUALITY
Not romantic, proud, deserving.
Not morning glory soft desire.
Not shameless seduction - Pleasure Palace Queen,
lascivious fulfillment life's sole objective.
Instead, a subtle endured harassment
enmeshed, interwoven;
snakes are not contained by basket boundaries.
Invade.
Provoke.
My own desires illusory from the start,
my body's natural appetites are fugitives
daring not to show their faces
for fear of capture or of blame.
Shame of my existence.
SEX
Most often performed at HIS command;
enacted out of duty,
the only valid pose in which to satisfy my need for touch.
SEX
A moment of acceptance, my accolade.
SEX
Insistent. Extracted by his sheer persistence
like impacted teeth
tom from bound-up roots.
Or a mechanical obsession with a singular mission:
"I want a baby."
Years of hoping, timing, fucking.
Desireless other than of conception.
There was less shame in that,
a feat with loftier ambitions.
SEX

HE: "I want you"
HE: "Show me that you love me"
HE: "You owe me"
HE: "My manhood is at stake"
Serpentine threats.
Active in the cool night shade.
Demanding. Cold.
Determined to invade my warmth.
I feared intrusion as a child,
checking potties before alighting,
anxious that haughty reptilian heads
would violate the integrity of my sacred spaces.
And again I'm haunted on this full moon eve
by ghosts in snake-like garb.
My stomach knots are decades taught,
the shame binds like tar to rigging,
impervious to corroding brutal elements.
Vermin.
In tonight's dream they are insistent as a husband.
Forcing me to open reluctant eyes,
unlock those rusty closet doors.
Compelling me to peel off sticky tar
exposing shameful memories,
the salty spray corrodes outdated shrouds
and penetrates the ancient wounds.

HARASSMENT

In Search of Healing

Number 1

25

Witch Mother, Bitch Mother
Demonic goddess devoured me
while still inside her womb;
Witch Mother, stupid fucking Bitch Mother.
Betrayed by life, herself,
she sucked away my breath for her survival.
Too weak. Ignorant and fearful.
Or perhaps betrothed to her perfectionistic ways
my human imperfections were too much for her to bear. •
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
striving for control, out of stark terror
devoured me.
Am I a soul in search of body?
Ice cream binges
Sacred rituals performed to invoke the loving Mother
bring forth instead the witch.
Betrayal is her only game.
Possessed by Sweet creamy stuff
I long to know her love; secure protection.
Alas, betrayed once more
the empty box reflects the hollow in my soul.
I tried in vain to exorcise the witch.
What hindered completion of the gagging act?
I wanted that Bitch poison out.
"Get out of me, I'll die" I screamed.
The lie of the loving mother,
the sacred ritual pretending to be guided by Eros,
my starving spirit is fooled by the false promise of satiation
only to be annihilated by the witch's creamy brew.
Poison.
The lethal binge.
The more I eat, the hungrier I become
. . . . . eating my heart out.
Mechanical, driven by the darkness,
A demon.
Beyond my control.
For the hundredth time I slip the ice cream past myself,
Devour it in isolation.
The initial calm,
then ecstasy, turns sour
curdles in my gut.
Demonic.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
masquerading as my savior.
Spoonful after spoonful I swallow down my panic,
possessed by need for you,
I cannot turn to see
the witch you really are
that is now a part of me.
Fundamental rejection:
Nothingness is always nothingness.

26

Abandonment.
Witch mother
her devouring ways were meant to nourish me;
the promise of her loving presence
was never to be had.
Binges.
Magnetic.
The ice cream draws me ever nearer.
I am hurled headlong into unconsciousness.
The wolf prowls. The emptiness gnaws.
The sacred ritual is once again enacted.
Quickly, surreptitiously, the forbidden stuff is sucked down
just as the witch mother sucked me down
to fill her empty soul.
I become the very thing I despise.
Tomorrow I will say NO to the witch.
I must FAST.
I will not
I can not ingest her poison again.
I would sooner starve than die that way.
Discipline and control forcing my filthy body
towards the light
the purity of nonexistence. ·
The binge is now the fast,
the lighter my body is
the higher I will fly.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
to you I was only a thing.
The FAST.
One bite of any food
brings certain death.
Indifference.
The rites of full and empty.
As long as I am an object I can choose
whether to enter life or not.
I am in control.
To eat is to enter into matter,
possibly against my will
certain abdication of control.
God did not degrade Herself by bec;oming flesh;
She was not born,
She did not die,
She never lived on Earth.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother.
Dare I incarnate?
Dare I allow my spirit into this matter called my body?
Dare I replace my desire for crucifixion
with a passion for life?
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
Dare I go against your selfish demonic wish

Number 1

In Search of Healing

and become myself?
Dare I discover the deep, rich love of being alive?
I am at a crossroad.
The safety and familiarity of
unconscious destruction
draws me back as surely
as surrender to my Selfand lifebeckons through the darkness.
The journey seems a nightmare
I have seen the shadows lurking.
Dare I trust that which is most untrustworthy
and feels like certain demise?
To find the stillness at the center of the whirlp90l
And know that life is born through death
is such a contradiction.
Can I endure the mysteries of transformation
where contradiction becomes the paradox?
Destruction and release
the spiral is the dance,
the being is always the becoming.
Can I surrender and allow my life to happen?
Unbound by tense control.
Can I trust that still point at the center
while tossed about inside this birth canal?
Finding the paradoxical comfort
of the unknowable and inconsistent
is trusting, knowing my connection to the goddess.

I'm Budding
C
M
S
C
M
S
C
M
S
C
M
S

I am budding from a closed green stern
struggle is flooding my molecules
saying goodbye to my wall is forever,
the essence, acrid yet sweet.
It's after midnight and I'm climbing for the moon,
I'm stepping on leaves of madness and ecstasy
my heart screams like raven in flight.
Goodbye to my mother, goodbye to boxes of green plums.
Has anyone wondered who I am?
My tongue, a chrysalis at birth,
a green flag of a moth whirring out like a question mark
I mingle, I envy, I hurt, I twinge outside the green stern.

Cynthia, Mary, Steve

Refuge
Anger is my refuge now. Years of numbness, oblivious to my SELF, I lived a life defined by patriarchal base brutality. Early on I
donned a mask, a smiling, pleasiM, little girl facade to hide the fear and shame that grew inside. Anger - an alien housemate
who moved in after numbness was awakened and packed her bags to leave. The unconscious path I trod - I could not bear to
feel the pain - until I courageously changed my course and fled the gruesome scene, was free at last. Then the truth of violation
was almost too much to bear, it was so clear. The pain of self denial and self hatred erupts in wrath and ardent self protection
now. I learn each moment that I can not afford to subject myself to one more hideous encounter with the undeserved abuse. My
anger keeps me alive - a vigilante for my soul, saving me from violation that for a lifetime I believed was my inheritance. No
more!! Guerilla warfare, a grassroots activism fed by rage, a healthy sign, this fight for life. Last autumn I wished for cancer,
wintertime I prayed for deadly accidents, this spring - drowning. Anything to end the pain. Now it's summer and I'm crusading
for my SELF, my own reality. I'm through living out my father's shameful lies, my mother's unsparing betrayal, my partners'
brutal words and deeds: they almost t_ook my life. Now when fear and shame take hold and coil their moist familiar tentacles
around my gut, I remember my precious child and fierce protection takes the helm. Protection long denied, never experienced
in parental care, must be taken on by me . . .. I scream out my rage and hold that child to my breast.
So, for this all consuming point in time anger is my refuge, until I have reclaimed my beloved child, my glory, my life. Then
perhaps forgiveness and compassion will find a place to grow in ground made fertile by my rage.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

27

Patty Stinson
California

The Silence
28

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Sheryl Blasnik
New Jersey
I am an ''Adult Survivar" ofIncest. This writing depicts my merrwries and feelings. I wou/,d like the opportunity to
share my feelings with others who have had similar experiences.
At this point I have read about 20 self-help books, and after awhile all the facts begin to sound alike. Not t,o negate
anyone's pain, but I wou/,d like to share my facts through rhyme.

Invisible Stranger

Once

In a large room that taunts and mocks stir the transparent and
vaporous souls of ancient strangers, souls masked by a dismal
sheen of smoke hanging heavily in the air like an aqueous
cloud resting on a mountain road in a mist-shrouded rain . ..

Staring at the flickertng flames aglow
An irtdescent dancing stirs my mind
Deeply consumed in labyrinths of thought
Searching for the me I cannot find

Myriad shadows surround and encompass but never touch;
hollow echoes resonate from thick paneled walls but are never
heard; light l>E:comes the insidious trespasser unable to reach
the opaque silhouette at the other side of the labyrinth ...

Once my mother's blight-eyed baby girl
Her eyes shimmered a majestic reflection
I took my first step, spoke my first word
Each achievement an enchanting perfection

Cold tombstones flaunt no markings of the apparition impaled
in a dark and bleak abyss; the mirror devoid of reflection
seems to shun the lost souls, Ancient smells of the sea linger
in the stagnant air .. .

I left her side to grow in mind and body
Separate by the light of day and night
I felt I was completely part of her
And, in her eyes, I knew I'd be alright

A venom permeates the ethereal souls lurking behind a cloak
of malignant pain. What's to become of the forgotten
strangers whose souls have been scorned and lost forever in a
legacy of affliction and deceit?

Eager I would not be seen or heard
By those who were supposed to protect
I would never stray all that far alone
Frtghtened by harm or neglect
Now the caricature of an adult
Struggling with the role I am to play
No longer defined by childhood
I ask myself, "WHO AM I ANYWAY? ? ? "

In Search of Healing

Number 1

29

Ari.en-on-the-Mountain
New Mexico

Power In The Word

I found the remembering of prescfwol rape to be a
distinctly nagging phenomenan.
I had brought patterns of defiance and depressian
into aduUfwod but could never trace my dyefunctianal
behavior to anything specific. I defended my shark's
tooth temper as the best si,gn of integrity I could come
up with . .. an intuitive awareness that I had survived
in spite of . .. what?
I didn'tfust suddenly remember. Memories crept
up an me over a period of years - just a little piece of
the past at a time, nagging me to remember.
lVhen the pieces didfinally come together, itfelt too
mystical and bright to express in mere language.
''Power in the Word" tries, however, to express one
of the dynamics offorgetting prescfwol rape: the simple
fact that there is no language available to the
preschooler - and witfwut words upan which to hang
the experience, it slips, instead, into oblivian.
"Com:num Ground" celebrates the emergence of two
women in their 50's after their two separate lifetimes of
buried rage. Each of us was di,gging up the memories of
her own prescfwol rape at the time of our meeting. It
seemed an appropriate crossing of paths, a merging of
our separate experiences, indeed, into one comman
ground.

a word
keeps coming up like a haunting

Ot's the things that are buried that haunt you)

INCEST! INCEST!
and at the same time the gray gesture
of a memory
appears in the periphery
just a quarter turn away like a haunting
they move toward each other
with magnetic attraction
(the memory and the word)
five minutes?

five years?

till they finally merge
as if they belong
to each other
as if they belong
to
me
a quarter tum to the right
and i'm eye to eye
with a shadow
that finally has a word
for
itselfa memory that's been buried
to the brow
till now
in a childhood's midnight
of pre-language
butnowit has a mouth for speech
a brain - a rage
and tears to flood
thepageaname:
INCEST!
and that's when
the haunting
ends
and that's when
the healing
begins

30

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Common Ground
(To Margaret Randall)
(With special thanks to David Budai, archeology student)

TONIGHT
IS ELECTRIC BLUE
ON BASIC BLACK
YOU'VE CUT YOUR HAIR
AND THE TURQUOISE SHARDS
I'VE SEEN YOU WEAR
SUCH COUNTLESS TIMES
HANG FROM YOUR EARS
LIKE JOURNAL ENTRIES
YOU MIGHT HAVE WRITTEN
WHEN OUR PATHS FIRST CROSSED
IN THE THUNDER OF OUR ANCIENT RAGE A BURIED HERITAGE
OF PRESCHOOL RAPE
ANDDEFIANCETHATCAME
AFTER
WE ARE UNCOMMON
IN OUR DIFFERENT WAYS VESSELS ETCHED
WITH ZIGS AND ZAGS
AND FILLED WITH THE GRIT
OF AGES
WE ARE NOT FRAGMENTS SCATTERED
IN THE ASHES OF A FRIENDLY CAMPFIRE
WE ARE THE WHOLE POTS FOUND
IN BURIAL SITES THAT SERVE
THE DEADENED CHILD WHO WAITS WITHIN
FOR VISIBILITY
CREDIBILITY
VISION
WE ARE THE TOMB
AND WE ARE THE FRAGILE CRAFT
AND WE ARE THE CHILDREN
WAKING

In Search of Healing

Number 1

31

Clafa Forest
California
It's hard to think that anyane woul,d be interested in my poems, much f,ess my history, because I have accomplished
rwthing as an adull and have always lived alane, secluded from people even at work. I have been seeing a therapist
three times a weekfor aver four years, which has often been the only thing that's kept a suicidal gesture from becoming
a succeseful, attempt.
My father was my perpetrator. He violated me incessantly until I l,eft home 13 years ago. Now I am almost 40, have
rw chil,dren, and most probably never will I am surprised I have lived this long and, sadly, still enjoy virtually rwthing.
Nevertheless, I ask that all your readers keep up the fight to heal. We must do what we can to make tomorrow easierfor
ourselves a:nd more welcoming and gentf,e for all the chil,dren to come.

1963

Before and After

I remember almost nothing about being young
Except things like President Kennedy,
And then the dark horse on the snowy black
And white screen, the tall boots
In the stirrups, and the beautiful wife
Crying and petting her kids. I laid
On the floor, close to the coffin;
No one cared that I cried for the nation
Or that I was little. That I was a girl was the thing
That mattered to the whole United States
The very least of all.

Before she was permitted to grow her hair long,
She had a fairytale, wandering mane,
Pale as a gasp, soft as the perversion
Of a priest touching children.
Before she could speak, she was the scream of a horse
Drowning in fire; she was a shrieking handful of hair
Yanked out within the blink of an eye.

I knew all about the president crying
When his wife lost the baby. I pictured my dad
Crying if I'd died like that, innocent,
Before he discovered that dark secret place,
Before he slapped me because it was evil and mine:
I kept thinking about that somewhere, warm under my dress.
The president suffocating under the ground.
I worried about the pretty horse •
Catching cold in the snow.

32

Before she left the belly of a large, tranquil mare,
She was pulp mashed by the sun, she was blood in the lung.
Something tubercular from China, a stallion from India
With skin thin as silk, criss-crossed with veins.
Before she tasted anything, she was milk dribbling
From the lips of a large man; every night she smelled her blood
Cool on his fingers and his sex arching upwards
Against the slopes of her thighs.
After she escaped his red house of torment:
She lived by a river on the silvery moon.
She lives there still, small as a thimble,
Sleeps in a flower that closes tightly each evening;
She sips nectar as if from a breast
Breathing soft love sounds and sighs.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

"the green pages"

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ACUPUB'CTUJm

CATALOGS

Dr. Diane Polasky, MA, OMD, LAc,
DiplAc
Heights Acupuncture Center
540 Oi.ama NE (fl}
Albuquerque, NM 87108
505-262-0555
Acupuncture, herbology/nutrition,
shamanic healing

Ask your favorite bookstore to stock
In Search of Healing.
Booksellers call 505-880-8683 to order.

ACT fur Kids
Rape Crisis Network
7 S. Howard
Suite 200
Spokane, WA 99204
509-747-8224
books, videos for professionals, parents,
kids

HEIGHTS ACUPUNCTURE CENTER

ATTOmYS

Ruth Cohen
123 Richmond Dr. SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-256-7742
Legal services for women and their
families

Dr. Diane H. Polasky
M.A., O.M.D., L.Ac., Dipl. Ac.

By Appointment
(505) 262-0555

540 Choma, N.E. #9
Albuquerque. NM 87108

BOOKB'.rOBU

Healing
Full Circle Books
2205 Silver SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-266-0022 TDD 266-0026
50pp, $2
Incest, RA, MP/DD, PTSD
Personal Caring: A Recooery
Catalog

1-800-851-9100
Books, tapes, pamphlets

Full Circle Books

2205 Silver SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-266-0022 TDD 266-0026
Feminist, lesbian/gay, recovery books,
music, jewelry

Newsland Book Store
2112 Central SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-242-0694
Across the street from the university

CRuth

Vicki Chandler DC
Cooperative Chiropractic

Cohen

cg_
u4ttom!J al £Faw

Estate Planning, Family & Disability Law
Emphasis on Legal Rights for Women

Serenity Shop

3401 San Mateo NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-889-0885
Books, cards, gifts to help in recovery

CBIBOPBACTOBS

lawyer t\dveniument

9204 Menaul NE, Suite 2
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-296-1390
Emphasizing comfort for the fragile
patient
Helen D'Esposito, D.C.

4300 Carlisle NE Suite 2
Albuquerque, NM 87107
505-888-484 7
Light force chiropractor and
nutritional counseling

123 Richmond Drive SE • Albuquerque, NM 87106 • 256-7742

Lamos Chiropractic

Surv 1v1 ng Ch1 l dhood
Sexual Assault?
For a 50 page catalogue of helpful
books, please send $2.00 to:

Full Circle Books
2205 S1lver SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106

..... ---

~~ 8~1£1ffce,4,

your ad

in
this
space

01,BIBDll'QJIOUS:as
American Self-Help Clearinghouse

St. Clares-Riverside Medical Center
Pocono Road
Denville, NJ 07834
201-625-9565, 201625-8848 (fax)
Sourcebook National Directory

Books, Cards,
Gifts and Medallions
to help in recovery .

The Serenity Shop
3401 San Mateo NE
/1 block south of Comanche)

Albuquerque, NM 87110
(505) 889-0885

the green pages

255-0677
3205 Central NE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-255-0677

DR HELEN D'ESPOSITO P.C.
CHIROPRACTOR

Holistic Health Care
Kinesiology • Nutrition • Injury Rehabilitation
4300 Carlisle NE, Suite #2
Albuquerque, N.M. 871CY7

"caveat emptor I buyer be'W(J.re"

(505) 888-4847

3

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

DIDCTO:am& (cont'd)

Tiu Green Pages
Directory of Sundoor/PrMundoor
Resources
Survivor Press
PO Box 30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190 USA
$20 quarterly, $5 sample

CHIROPRACTIC
Without The
''Crack/Pop!••

Jl&TDIG Dl80BDml8

Especially for the
apprehensive or fragile patient:
Low Force & Non-Force techniques
that emphasize patient
comfort AND results.

National Association of Anorexia
Nervosa and Associated Disorders
PO Box 7
Highland Park, IL 60035
312-831-3438
Newsletter, reading list

LINDEN

GAllDS

.....................................

WITH
COUPON

First Treatment is $35, Including
Both Exam And Adjustment

Kathy Ulrich, D.C.

WITH
COUPON

Vicki Chandler, D. C.

9204 Menaul NE #6 • 296-1390

Survivors' Therapy Game
Lynn Erickson MA LPC
13339 N. Central Expwy. "'104
Dalla'I, TX 75243
817-794-1730

GLASS, 8T.lllllll) 4' LJIADD
Linden Studio
Custom Stained and Etched Glass
Albuquerque, NM
505-877-6972

GUJIS'l'llOOMS
COMICBOOKS

D:aJITIST8

TurtleBoy and Jet the WonderPup

Bill Wolfe, DDS, PA
8501 Candelaria NE, Suite AZ
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-292-8533

StarDancer
PO Box 1284
Lakeport, CA 95453
$4.95 plus $2 shipping

A Sister's Place
4800 N . Broadway
Chicago, IL (Andersonville area)
312-275-1319
1st Sunday monthly brunch for
women survivors, guestrooms

•G•t • A•• s•• s . ••• s•T•• u•. • o•I •o
. . .. . • . . . .. • . • . • . . . • . . . . . . . . . • . • . • . • . • . . . • . • . . .

• • • • • • • • •

(505) 877-6972

x..GAL BJISOUBCU (cont'd)
National Center for Prosecution of
Child Abuse
American Pr05ecutors Research
Institute
1033 North Fairfax St.
Suite 200
Alexandria, VA 22314
Publishes UPDATE, monthly
newsletter covering latest
developments
National Organization for Women
Legal Defense and Education Fund
Intake Department
99 Hudson St.
New York, NY 10013
Information, referrals to local lawyers

DIDCTO:am&
x..GAL BDOUBCJIS

COJl81JI4'.A11T8

Sexual A.uault and Child Sexual
StarDancer
PO Box 1284
Lakeport, CA 95453
707-279-1209
Presentations and consultation on
surviving ritual abuse, mind control
and torture

Abuse: A National Directory of
Victim/Sundoor Semces and

Pr...,ention Programs
Oryx Press
1-800-457-ORYX

$55

Coalition of Victims' Attorneys and
Consultants (COYAC)
4530 Oceanfront
Virginia Beach, VA 23451
804-422-2692
National database and referrals

LIJIBIBIBS
Incest and Ritual Abuse Library
37 Seventh Avenue
Maylands 6051
W.A. Australia

Annotated guide to 2,700 facilities

Vitality Works

Bill Wolfe, D.D.S., P.A.

Center for Natural Therapeutics

8501 Candelaria NE • Suite A-2
Albuquerque, NM 87112 • (505) 292-8533
126 Quincy NE, Albuquerque, NM 87108

4

"caveat emptor I buyer b:!'Wllre"

(505) 268-2772

the green pages

Direct;ary of Survivor/ Prosurvivor B.esources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

.-.WSLll'rZDS (cont'd)

Therapeutic Massage

Write to Heal

c/o WordsRight
POBox358
Fair Oaks, CA 95628-0358
Monthly, 6 mo-$14, 12 mo-$24,
sample $2.50
Reader submissions of writing and art
LAw
UPDATE
National Center for Prosecution of
Child Abuse

Swedish Massage Reflexogy
Polarity Therapy Cranio-Sacral Therapy
Patio Plaza, 5000 Marble Avenue, NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110, 505-262-0847 / 505-281-1686

In Search of Healing
PO Box 30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190
quarterly $20, sample $5
Reader submissions of writing and art

SURVIVOR
PO Box30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190
quarterly $20, sample $5
lnfonnative articles for survivors/
prosurvivors

JIDEDIGS-UU

MDlllll&L8

NATIONAL

Mama's Minerals

Incest Survivors Anonymous (ISA)

PO Box 5613
Long Beach, CA 90805
213-422-1632
12-step meetings
Survivors of Incest Anonymous, Inc.
(SIA)

PO Box 21817
Baltimore, MD 21222-6817
410-433-2365
Send SASE with$ .52 postage for
listing of local meetings

lll&88.&a• TJDIB.&Pl8T8

John Kiegel
Vitality Works Center for Natural
Therapeutics
126 Quincy NE
Albuquerque, NM 87108
505-268-2772
Erica Tismer

Patio Plaza
5000 Marble Ave. NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-262-0847, 505-281-1686
Swedish massage, reflexology, polarity
therapy, cranio-sacral therapy

510 2nd St. NW
Suite 209
Albuquerque, NM 87102
505-24 7-05 71
Program for families with adolescents

the green pages

MEN
Men's Issues Forum

Newsletter of M.A.L.E., Men
Assisting, Leading and Educating, Inc.
PO Box 380181
Denver, CO 80238-1181
Bimonthly $15 survivor, $25 other
Reader submissions, resources

MULTIPLE PERSONAllTY

B.E.A.M.
Being Energetic About Multiplicity
PO Box 20428
Louisville, KY 40250-0428
Bi-monthly $15, professional $20,
sample $2.50
Expressive newsletter, reader
submissions

GENERAL INTEREST

The Chorus
Newsletter of VOICES
PO Box 148309
Chicago, IL 60614
Reader submissions, resources

REGIONAL

New England Survivors of Incest
Anonymous (SIA)

Incest Sumwr Information
Exchange

]wt Us!
Newsletter ofJustUs Unlimited
PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
Monthly$20
lnfonnation, opinions about MPD,
RA

TheMAZE

POBox263
Dorchester, MA 02124
617-721-2100
SASE or recorded message for meeting
schedule

PO Box 3399
New Haven, CT 06515
Quarterly $10, professional $15,
sample $2
Reader submissions, writing, art,
infonnation

POBox88722
Tukwila, WA 98138-2722
Bimonthly $30
articles, poetry, reviews

Sexual Abuse Survivors Anonymous
(SASA)

sos

PROSURVIVOR

PO Box 241046
Detroit, MI 48224
313-882-9646
12-step meetings in Michigan and
Illinois

Survivors of Sexual Abuse
Forbes Publications Ltd.
44 Brookpark Mews
Calgary, Alta Canada TZW 2P3
Monthly $30 (Canadian)
Poetry, art, resources

IDDIATIOJIT
New Mexico Center for Dispute
Resolution

4530 B Alexander Blvd. NE
Albuquerque, NM 87107
505-344-1144
Gems, minerals, fossils, jewelry, beads
from around the world

American Prosecutors Research
Institute
1033 North Fairfax St.
Suite 200
Alexandria, VA 22314

METRO

Survivors of Incest Services

PO Box 56252
Houston,TX 77256-6252
713-684-6747
Local schedule available

Speaking Out
Incest Awareness Project Newsletter
Box8122
Fargo, ND 58109-8122
Membership, group $24, individual
$12
Reader submissions, resources

"caveat emptor I buyer beware"

Share
POBox88722
Tukwila, WA 98138-2722
Bimonthly, $30 USA, $36 foreign
For partners, friends, family of MPD/
DD's
Stand Fast
PO Box 9107
Conimicut Station
Warwick, RI 02889
For parmers, significant others,
supporters

5

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources
RmWBLSr'1'Sll8 (oont'd)

RmWBLSr'1'Sll8 (oont'd)

RADICAL PERSPECTIVES

On the WINGS of WIie
Wings Foundation, Inc.
8007 w. Colfax
Lakewood, CO80215
303-238-8660
Monthly $12 member, $24
nonmember

Body Memories
PO Box 14941
Berkeley, CA 94701-4941
Quarterly $12 sliding scale, free to
prisoners
Articles, poetry, art

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

0BCl&llOZATI0llTS (oont'd)

0BGAllllZATI0llTS (oont'd)

Incest Resources, Inc.

MEN

46 Pleasant St.
Cambridge, MA 02139
Educational materials, training,
consultation, SASE ( 2 stamJJ5) for list
Incest Survivors Anonymous World
Service Office

PO Box 5613
Long Beach, CA 90805
213-422-1632
12-step recovery, referrals, literature

RITUAL ABUSE

0BGAllllZATI0llTS
JustVs!

Newsletter of Justus Unlimited
PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
Monthly, $20
Information, opinions about RA,
MPD

SumoorShip
3181 MissionN139
San Francisco, CA 94110
415-282-3897
Monthly, $30, $36/Canada
Forum on survival of ritual abuse,
torture and mind control

Monarch Resources

ART

The Clothesline Project

PO Box 727
East Dennis, MA 02641
508-385-7004
Liason for local Clothesline Projects
bearing witness to violence against
women
Urban Art Retreat

3712 N. BroadwayN700
Chicago, IL 60613
312-275-1319
Art for self expression, consciousness
raising, social change regarding
violence

lnitiati11e

PO Box 1293
Torrance, CA 90505-0293
310-373-1958
MPD/DD/RA events calendar, info
packets, audiotapes, presentations

PO Box 330632
West Hartford, CT 06133
203-875-6652
For professionals and survivors needing
to access services

SELF-INFLICTED VIOLENCE

Victims of Clergy Abuse Linkup
(VOCAL)

Survivors of Incest Anonymous, Inc.

PO Box 21817
Baltimore, MD 21222
301-282-3400
When you are ready to root-out the
problem, 12-step meetings,
publications

PO Box 1268
Wheeling, IL 60090
708-202-0242
ExTRF.ME ABUSE

PO Box899
Citrus Heights, CA 95611
916-967-0424
Conferences, workshops, speakers,
info/crisis line, support grouJJ5
GENERAL

1-800-578-1292
For a speakout in your area

RELIGIOUS

Incest Survivors Resource Network
lntemational

PO Box 7375
Las Cruces, NM 88006-73 75
505-521-4260
Quaker Witness Educational Resource
Contacts: Anne-Marie Eriksson,
Lt.Col. Erik Eriksson USAF (Ret)

The Lost and Found Ministry
Trinity Lutheran Church
715 Second Ave South
PO Box 188
Moorhead, MN 56560
218-236-1333
For the chemically dependent and their
families
RITUAL ABUSE

Cult Awareness Network (CAN)

1345 El Centro Ave.
PO Box630
Hollywood, CA 90028
213-465-4016
Treatment, prevention, research,
survivors support grouJJ5, hotline
Incest Awareness Project

6

To Tell The Truth:
America Speaks Out About Incest
and Sexual Abuse
August 1, 1993

INTEREST

Childhelp USA, Los Angeles
Childhelp Center

The Healing Woman
PO Box 3038
Moss Beach, CA 94038
Monthly $25, low income $15
Articles, stories

POBox4078
Appleton, WI 54911
Information and support for starting
12 Step program for spouses, relatives,
friends of people with dissociative
disorders

CLERGY SEXUAL ABUSE

Survivors Reaching Out

The Cutting Edge
PO Box 20819
Cleveland, OH 44120
Quarterly, Donation, professional $30
For women living with self-inflicted
violence

Justus Unlimited

DD-Anon Group One
Recovery Services and Resources

PO Box85582
Seattle, WA 98145-1582
SafeandSaund newsletter provides forum,
resources

WOMEN

PO Box 4367
Boulder, CO 80306-4367
proactive MP's/families/friends

PROSURVIVOR

8025 S. Honore
Chicago, IL 60620
312-483-1059

(SOFIE)
PO Box 2794
Renton, WA 98056-2794
Bimonthly $30
Letters, articles, stories, art

Multiple Personality Dignity/Loved
Ones Of Multiples

PO Box 952
San Jose, CA 95108
408-453- 7616

Sexual Abuse Survivors Association
(SAS)

Sumoors of Female Incest Emerge!

MULTIPLE PERSONALITY

Parents United International, Inc.

Survivors Network for People
Abused by Priests (SNAP)

SURVIVORS OF FEMALE INCEST

Men Assisting, Leading and
Educating, Inc.
PO Box 380181
Denver, CO 80238-1181

PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
303-643-8698
therapy assistance, newsletter,
clearinghouse

Canadian Council on Social
Development
POBox3505
StationC
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada KlY 401
Serves the self-help/mutual aid
community, bilingual English/French

The Cutting Edge
PO Box 20819
Cleveland, OH 44120
Quarterly, Donations, professional $30
For women living with self-inflicted
violence

M.A.L.E

Box 8122
Fargo, NM 58109-8122
Membership, group $24, individual
$12
Newsletter, public education, events

VOICES in Action (Victims Of
Incest Can Emerge Survivors)

PO Box 148309
Chicago, IL 60614
1-800-7VOICES
Resource clearinghouse, newsletter,
conferences, anthology
VT.-1.S.E.E. (Vermont-Incest
Survivors Enlightened and
Empowered)

POBox82
Milton, VT 05468-3525
Newsletter, legislation, referrals,
whimsical paraphernalia

"caveat emptor I buyer be'UXlre"

2421 W. Pratt Blvd., Suitel 173
Chicago, IL 60645
312-267-7777
Healing Hearts

1515 Webster Street
Oakland, CA 94612-3313
conferences, speakers bureau,
professional training, tapes, newsletter
JustUs Unlimited

PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
303-643-8698
therapy assistance, newsletter,
clearinghouse

the green pages

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Pttf::t
Patrick Prince
5027 Larchmont Drive, North East
Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87111
505-275-8448 / 505-884-8662
OBQAlllZATIORS (oont'd)

PU-PUSS QBAPBIOS

WOMEN

Archetype
10516 Sierra Bonita NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-292-1081
Typographer

Wings Foundation
8007 w. Colfax
Lakewood, CO 80202
303-238-8660
Newsletter, support groups
Yourn
Believe The Children

PO Box 1358
Manhattan Beach, CA 90266
Advocates for child RA survivors
Citizens Against Sexual Child Abuse

PO Box 1093
Kingston, Ontario K7L4Y5 Canada
613-542-1101
Supportive housing for survivors 16-24
years old
P:ui'PALS
Writer's Secrets

Penpal adult survivor's therapy service
POBox605
Seabrook, NH 03874
$1 postage and handling
PBOTOQBAPJIJIBS

Patrick Prince Photography
5027 Larchmont Dr. NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-275-8448, 884-8662

mkc publishing
5401 Summer NE
Albuqureque, NM 87110
505-266-6617
Desktop publishing

BUR.&W.&YCBILI> (oont'd)

Elizabeth Phillippi, Reild Master
Reild School of Natural Healing

Passages

5541 Edwards Dr. NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-299-3918
Gentle touch that accelerates mental,
emotional, physical healing, spiritual
growth

BJIS:a&BCBDS

Questionaire on signs, symptoms, lifelong
impact, prevention of child sexual abuse
Send long#10 SASE to
Valerie A. Scalera

1070 Sherman Ave.
South Plainfield, NJ 07080
908-754-4616
BUR.A.WAY CBILI>BJIR

by Caryn StarDancer, Illustrations by
StarDancer, Kore Loy Wildrekinde
StarDancer
PO Box 1284
Lakeport, CA 95453
$6.95 plus $2 shipping

Book Fare
5901 Wyoming NE

No hassles, no traps, no tricks. Need
shelter, food, medical help? Need to
let someone know you're still alive?
Call night or day.

Bookworks
4022 Rio Grande NW

NEWMEXICO

Double Rainbow
3416 Central SE

Amistad Crisis Shelter

PllDllTJUl8
Academy Printers

Las Cruces Runaway Shelter

880 East Idaho
Las Cruces, NM 88004
505-523-0572, 505-524-7765

..
.. .

Full Circle Books
2205 Silver SE
Hastings
Fair Plaza
Newsland
2112 Central SE
Page One
11018 Montgomery NE
Salt of the Earth Books
2128 Central SE
Serenity Shop
3401 San Mateo NE

2328 West Joppa Road
Suite 15
Lutherville, Maryland 21093
410-825-8888, fax 410-337-0747
Books, tapes, especially on MPD

Sisters' and Brothers'
Bookstore
4011 Silver SE

Survivor Publisher

The Word Farm
4104 Silver SE

PO Box829
Seabrook, NH 03874
508-463-3186
Audio, video tapes on recovery from
sexual and substance abuse

Tell our advertisers you saw their
ads in the green pages.
the green pages

Lookfor
In Search of Healing
at these
NewMexico
Locations:

Runaway Hotline
l,800,231-6946 nationwide

The Sidran Foundation

of

TEXAS

Runaway Hotline
l-800-392-3352

ALBUQUERQUE

2929 Barcelona SW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-877-03 71
Shelter, crisis intervention,
counseling, educational assistance

4740 Pan American Frwy NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-884-173 7, 800-675-173 7 (NM),
800-858-5389 (USA),
505-884-4 734 (fax)
4-color Heidelberg Press
Call R06ie and Therri for expert
printing

215 57thNW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-836-1040
Temporary shelter, counseling
aftercare

NATIONWIDE

PUBLISJmllS

POB'l'llY
Returning to Herself: Poems
Restoration

Arnold Litho
5908 Lomas NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-266-43 71
We make art "camera ready"
Survivor-friendly

BmKI

"caveat emptor I buyer beware"

RIO RANCHO

Hastings
Hilltop Plaza
SANTA FE

Hastings
2414 Cerrillos Rd

7

Directory of Survivor/ P.rosurvivor B.esources
OpenWay Safety Alliance (OSA)
325 Wayne Rd NW
Albuquerque, NM 87114
505-898-9221
End the cycle of violence with
nonaggresslve response training

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Sm.J'-JmLP

8:m.J'-JmLP (oont'd)

TJDIBAPISTS (oont'd)

Incest Resources
46 Pleasant St.
Cambridge, MA 02139
Publishes Starting From Scratch: The

The Canadian Council on Social
Develpment
55 Parkdale Ave.
PO Box3505
StationC
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada KlY 401
Publishes Initiative, French/English
newsletter about self-help groups

Elsa LaFlamrne, PhD, A TR
1605 Carlisle NE, Suite A3
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-255-4331
Dissociative Disorders

Incest Resources Group Mode~
guidebook for starting self-help groups

SPDUTUAI- BWAl,BBS

ELSA LAFLAMME PH.D.,

A.T.R.

1605 Carlisle NE, Suite A-3
Albuquerque, New Mexico 8711 0
(505) 255-4331
• Archetypal Visualization, Sandplay
• Self-Recovery, Relationship Issues
• Life Transitions, Life Mission

Eve Loren Wedeen M.A., A.T.R .
Registered Arr Therapist
Individual, Family and Group Counseling
5000 Marble

NE

Suite 305

115C West Santa Fe Ave.
Santa Fe, NM 87501
505-989-8937
Learn to release the incest bond from
another survivor. Insurance

8UBMl8810118
Anthology of letters to perpetrators,
mailed/unmailed. Send SASE and
submission by 9/30/93 to
Julie Mines
PO Box 38-2024
Cambridge, MA 02238
Anthology of women survivors of
pornography: writing, art, interviews.
Anonymity respected.
Deadline
December, 1993. Send to
Ann Russo
Women Survive
PO Box 771
Kendall Square Branch
Cambridge, MA 0214 2

Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110

sos . 262

. 0847
ART THERAPISTS

Dnise Dickey
Santa Fe, NM
505-988-7828
Art therapy, body centered therapy,
Radix (R) education

Counseling for Career Change and Personal Growth

880-1618
SHOSHONA BLANKMAN, M.A

Louise Jacobus, M.A.
National Certified Counselor
Individual and Couples Counseling
Body-centered Therapy

8

Boov/MIND INTEGRATIVE THERAPY
Mari Susan Selby
POBox8736
Santa Fe, NM 87504
505-753-5313
Working with sexual abuse survivors,
individuals, couples, families

CoUNSELORS

Shoshona Blankman, MA
Pathfinding Counseling Services
2501 San Pedro NE, Suite 204
Albuquerque, NM
505-880-1618
Career changes, personal growth
Louise Jacobus, MA
4233 Montgomery NE, Suite 230W
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-883-1799
Body-centered therapy; individual,
couples counseling
Johanna Johnson-O'Dowd
8205 Spain NE, Suite 210
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-822-9842
PTSD, MPD, couples, gay/lesbian
Nonna Leib, MA
Kachina Counseling and Guided
Imagery Center
6221 Sabre Court NW
Albuquerque, NM 87107
505-344-8010
Medical psychotherapy, guided
imagery, counseling

Ty Menefee and Mary Ellen Holman
The Recovery Center
300J Louisiana NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-884-4511, 505-243-2223 (24 hr.
ans.svc.)
Treating sexual trauma, addictions,
ACA's

2501 San Pedro, NE, suite 204

4233 Montgomery NE
Suite 230W
Albuquerque, NM 87109

Eve Loren Wedeen, MA, A TR
5000 Marble NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-262-~47
Treating primary and secondary PTSD

883-1799 Office
292-9009 24 hrs.

"caveat emptor I buyer ~ware"

Mr. Jan Middeldorf, MA,NCPsyA
13528 Terragon Dr NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-296-6508
Counselor for survivors of emotional,
sexual, physical abuse
Judy Rollstin, MA
Albuquerque, NM
505-884-2568
Individual, group therapy for adult
survivors

the green pages

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

THE RECOVERY CENTER
for the treatment of:
ROSIE ROSE, LISW

Sexual Addiction
Sexual Trauma
Adult Children of Alcoholics
Co-Dependency

Counselor

Addictions, Trauma
Grief, Self care

1YMENEFEE
MARY ET,,TEN HOLMAN
Located at 3009 Louisiana NE
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110
(505) 884-4511, 24 Hr. Ans. Svc., 243-2223
An Affiliate of the Counseling & Psychology Institute

Jan A Middcldorf NCPsyA

505 296 6508

Helene M Stilman NCPsyA 505 296 5861

Rose and Associates

265-0503

I Place your ad in the green pages I

Board Certified Psychoanalysts

In depth healing from the traumas of
emotional, sexual and h sical abuse

Now Forming:

Therapy Groups

c:fVo'tma _£db .:::;11/(.c,1.
cMt:dicafg:> j,ychotht: rnpy

for

Adult Survivors of
Sexual Abuse

§uidt:d[/ma91::'ty-C ounj,t:lin9
!J(achina Coun1eUn9
6221~afmCt. dVW
c4fCu9unque, c:NcM 87107

(505) 344-8010

For more information call:
Ongoing sexual trauma recovery group
now accepting new members. The group
provides a safe place to process how
past abuse impacts our present day
lives. A three month commitment is
needed. Sliding scale available.
For information please contact

Johanna or Cindi
Counseling Network Associates
505-822-9842
the green pages

Judy Rollstin, MA - Counselor
A Caring Place

884-2568
Individual Counseling also available

"caveat emptor I buyer beu,are"

9

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources
Ask your favorite bookstore to stock

In Search of Healing.
Booksellers call 505-880-8683 to order.
..

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

COUllJSBLOBS (oon'td)

COUNSELORS, CHRISTIAN

Cindi Rose, MSSW, LISW
Counseling Network Associates

Carole J. Myers, LMSW, NCC

8205 Spain NE, Suite 210
Albuquerque, NM 8710')
505-822-9842
Sexual trauma recovery group, sliding
scale

4263 Montgomery NE, Suite 110
Albuquerque, NM 8710')
505-883-63 77
Recovery from childhood sexual
trauma

S ••\I •

,,.f;ft;••'
...

SOARING EAGLE
INSTITUTE
P.O.

U,

Box 1175

Jf
~t

'4t.

Survivor & Therapy Groups
Individual & Couple Groups
Organizational Consulting

Tijeras, NM

"i,tst1:,.

B7059

·•1:W~i·,

Retreat Center
Challenge Course

\'.~!:'{,!:.~"
i~O~Y~-~~

x~1,xlifilt

{ 11
505 281-2590

Rosie Rose, LISW
Rose and Associates

CoUNSELORS, MENTAL HEALTH

Albuquerque, NM
505-265-0503
Addictions, trauma, grief, selfcare

Linda Smarrella, MA and
Paul Smarrella, MA
Soaring Eagle Institute
Retreat Education Center
PO Box 1175
Tijeras, NM 87059
505-281-2590
Individual, group therapy; challenge
course; organizational consulting

Linda Smarrella, M.A., Administrator
Paul Smarrella, M.A., Facilitator

Debra Sugar, CAC, NTS
Albuquerque, NM
505-884-0815
Nurturing and Enhancing Personal
Recovery, body centered therapy

KinTree Whitecloud, MA
505-888-3 783
Albuquerque, NM
Body-mind-spirit focus on sexual
trauma, lesbian/gay concerns,
dreamwork

Jan Hollingsworth, MA
9412 Indian School Rd NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-275-2584
Promoting growth, healing, creativity
in women; free initial consultation;
sliding scale, insurance, medicare

CoUNSEI.ORS, ExPERIENTIAL

Cheryl Parkin, RN, MA
11805 Menaul NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-293-5146
Specializing in sexual trauma and
family therapy

COUNSELORS, MARRIAGE AND FAMILY

Judy Borich, MS
925 Sixth NW, Suite 10
Albuquerque, NM 87102
505-242-1011
Working to clear out the pain of the
past

Place your ad in the green pages
~

KinTree Whitecloud, M.A.
Individual, Couple & Group Cowiseling

~ ~ Jt.d.

888-3783

Mental Health Counselor

A body-mind-spirit focus. Specializing in
sexual abuse/incest healing, lesbian/gay
concerns & dreamwork.

Individual, Couples, and Family
Counseling

275-2584
9412 Indian School Rd. N.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87112

Sliding scale. Some insurance accepted.

Family Recovery

883-6377

Experiential Therapies
Cheryl Parkin, RN, MA
Program Director

4263 Montgomery, NE
SuitellO
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87109

Office
11805 Menaul N.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87112

(505) 293-5146

"caveat emptor I buyer beivare"

Addictive Disorders
Family Dysfunction

the green pages

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Resources
Ask your favorite bookstore to stock

In Search of Healing.

(505) 242-1011

Booksellers call 505,880,8683 to.order.

Judy G. Borich, M.S.

Laura Bank-Forest, AC.S.W.

Marriage & Family Therapist

Licensed Oinical Social Worker

925 6th N.W., Suite 10

(505) 984-0683

Albuquerque, NM 87102

(..

•

• •
• •

Psychotherapy
For
• adults
• children & adolescents
• consultation & supeNlsion

Southwestern Institute for Psychodrama
Individual, Couples, Family & Group Therapy
insurance accepted

Cynthia Goldblatt. M.A., L.M.S.W.
Psychodynamic Therapist & Board Certified Psychodramatist

(505) 884-1156

4207 Montgomery Blvd., NE • Suite A
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87109

Lyn Jones

M.A.

Paycl.otL.crapy

PSYCHODRAMA

PSYCHOLOGISTS, CLINICAL

Cynthia Goldblatt, MA, LMSW
Southwestern Institute for
Psychodrama
4207 Montgomery NE, Suite A
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-884-1156
Psychodrama therapy for individuals,
couples, groups, family

Nancy L Black, PhD
2403 San Mateo NE, Suite S15
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-888-4 74 7
Adult, family psychotherapy; recovery
from sexual abuse
PSYCHOTHERAPISTS

Stephanie Atwood, MA

2201 San Pedro NE, Suite 222
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-883-43 73
Childhood abuse issues, dissociative
disorders

6100 Seagu1£ Lane 'J./..'E Suite 204
.91.fE,uquerque, 'J{J,{ 87109
(505) 880-1516

FIRST NATIONWIDE
SPEAKOUT ON INCEST!

Laura Bank-Forest, ACSW
SantaFe,NM
505-984-0683
Psychotherapy for adults, children,
adolescents; insurance

August 1, 1993
800-S78-1292

Juliet Calabi, MA

STEFANI ATWOOD, M.A.
PROFESSIONAL THERAPIST
PRIVATE PRACTICE BY APPOINTMENT ONLY
2201 SAN PEDRO NE
BUILDING 2 SUITE 222
ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87110

(505) 883-4373

the green pages

546 Harkle Rd., Suite C
Santa Fe, NM 87501
505-983-5568
Sensitive work through language of
body, dream, imagination

Behty Harrison, LMSW, LAc
122 Tulane SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-255-4102
Psychotherapy, acupuncture
Lyn Jones, MA

6100 Seagull LN NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-880-1516

Behty Harrison LMSW, L. Ac
Psychotherapy

122 Tulane S.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87106

"caveat empror I buyer beware"

Acupuncture

(505) 255-4102

11

"Advertisements, not endorsements"
Psychotherapy For Recovery and Growth

: ,a MARCUS, M.S.
.

•.

specializing in couple 's and men 's issues
treatm ent of survivors of childhood abuse,
addiction , and mental illness

Shaun McElhannon, M.A., L.M.S. W., D.D.

4233 Montgomery Blvd. NE

(505) 881-8666

Suite 200W
2403 San Mateo Blvd. N.E. Suite SlO
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110

Albuquerque, New Mexico 871 09
(505) 881·7282

Ann Yeager,

M.S.W.; A.C.S.W.

Licensed Inaependent Social Worker

..i.O

•· Individual and

:. ·:· · Group ·,psychotherapy

•••• -··

.,.

-·· ·-

•'..
'❖

❖

·-::

~

:.

....

-:

❖ ~ .::

••,

:--❖

··-:

-

-;· ...

❖"

.-

,•

sot~,...
v.,,

SPECIALIZING IN :
Individual
~-,.
'O
Relat1onsh1p
~
~
Famil y
~
Child and Teen
':"
;..
Divorce Adjustment
~
Women 's Issues
~
Support Groups
liE;nt.io- Hours by Appointment Self-Esteem Classes
(505) 255-3075
Workshops
1615 Carlisle NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110

~,

❖

• •'.

. . •·,::.'. Of 'SSxoaJ :Y.rau"rna
•

~

.

PSYCBOTBmlAPISTS (cont'd)

PSYCBO'.l'JDUlAPY (cont'd)

Paul Marcus, MS

Ann Yeager, MSW, ACSW

.

.,,..

4233 Montgomery NE, Suite 200W
•••lllliiillllilillllil-•lllliilllllilllll•--••••-•1111111- • • - • A1buquerque, NM87100
505-881-7282
Individual, group therapy for male
survivors

505/839-7365
2501 San Pedro NE, Ste. XJ4
Albuquerque, NM 87120

KATE LONGFEllOW, M.A.

Specializing in Treating
Adults Abused as Children

Groups offered in
HOW TO OVERCOME CHILDHOOD SOURCES
OF LOW SELF-ESTEEM

1615 Carlisle NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-255-3075
Finding a better way

RADIX (R)
PSYCHOTHERAPISTS, HOLISTIC

Dnise Dickey

Kara, RN, BSN, MA
5000 Marble NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, NM
505-867-3586
Sand ttay irnaginal therapy, past life
regression, soul retrieval

SantaFe,NM
505-988-7828
Body centered therapy, Radix (R)
education, art therapy

PSYCHOTHERAPISTS, PRIMAL

Marietta Patricia Leis, MA
PODrawerD
Corrales, NM 87048
505-898-1950
Primal psychotherapy

TmAPIST8-PBOl'Jl8810111'.&L
OBGAJIIZATIOJll'S

Family Violence and Sexual Assault
Institute
1310 Clinic Drive
Tyler, TX 75701
903-595-6600, fax 903-595-6799
"helping those who help"

PsYCHOTIIERAPY

Kate Longfellow, MA

MARIETTA PATRICIA LEIS, M.A.
CERTIRED PRIMAL THERAPIST & LICENSED COUNSELOR

2501 San Pedro NE, Suite 204
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-839-7365
Treating adults abused as children

Shaun McElhannon, MA, LMSW,
DD

P.O. DRAWER D, CORRALES, NM 87048
(505) 898-1950

12

2403 San Mateo NE, Suite SlO
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-881-8666
Specializing in adult survivors in
association with a psychiatrist

"caveat emptor I buyer beiware"

Tell our
advertisers
you saw their
ads in

the green pages.
the green pages

of Survivor/ Prosurvivor B.esources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

your
I vvork vvith that part of you
That couldn't be here
VVhen it vvasn't safe -That delicate soul part.
Is it tirne
To bring you
Horne?

ad
•

1n

this
space

Tell our advertisers you saw their ads in the green pages.
'l'llll&TIDll'l' cmllTD8
Charter Hospital

5901 Zuni SE
Albuquerque, NM 87100
800-874-2476 (NM),
505-265-8800 (outside state)
When you can't go on living with the
secret

"Please continue
the work you 're
doing. It saves
lives."
- Abby Ovitsky

M. T. LLOYD &ASSOCIATES
230 ADAMS STREET, S.E.
SUITE B
ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87108
505/266-6006

Heights Psychiatric Hospital

103 Hospital Loop NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-883-8777
Survivors of Sexual Abuse, recovery
from eating disorders
M. T. Lloyd and Associates
230 Adams SE, Suite B
Albuquerque, NM 87100
505-266-6006
Community based diagnostic and
treatment center, outpatient
counseling

Help us

continue
ourwork
Subscribe
to
In Search
of Healing

for only
$10.00
the green pages

A COMMUNITY BASED
DIAGNOSTIC AND 1REATMENT CENTER.
AN OUTPATIENT COUNSEUNC FACILITY
WHICH PROVIDES A SAFE AND
SUPPORTIVE ENVIRONMENT
FOR MEN, WOMEN, ADOLESCENTS
AND CHILDREN WHOSE LIVES
HAVE BEEN IMPACTED BY PHYSICAL,
EMOTIONAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE.

"caveat empror I buyer ~e"

13

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

HEIGHTS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL
Heights Psychiatric Hospital offers outpatient, partial hospitalization,
and inpatient treatment for people with psychiatric or chemical dependency problems including:

♦ Intensive Outpatient Eating

Disorder Programs
♦

Survivors of Sexual Abuse

Inpatient and Day Treatment
Track

FREE Initial Consultation
24-Hour Assistance & Referral

883-8777

in New Mexico call toll free
1-800-634-9295

Fully accredited by the Joint Commission on
Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations.
Most Insurance Plans Accepted.

-

Hq!ght,
P,yctiiat,ic
Ho1pital

103 Hospital Loop NE, Albuquerque, NM 87109

Tell our advertisers you saw their ads in the green pages.

When you can't go on living with the secret.
Making the decision to get help takes a lot of courage. Charter Hospital's special
program for survivors of sexual abuse helps enable survivors to talk openly and honestly
about their experiences, helping to break the secrecy and feelings of isolation in a safe
and supportive environment. The goals of Charter's program are:
* to help the survivor develop healthy, non-destructive coping skills when thoughts
or feelings seem overwhelming;
* nurture a growth of self empowerment and self responsibility;
* to begin the survivor's recovery process by creating a stronger self;
* to provide insight into self destructive, self sabotaging thoughts and behaviors,
and offer safer, healthier ways of coping with difficult situations.

For more information, call us at 265-8800 or 1-800-874-2476 (within New
Mexico). And if you don't get help at Charter, please get help somewhere.

gj ~

CHARTER
HOSPITAL

5901 ZUNI S.E. • ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87108 • 1-800-874-2476

14

"caveat emptor I buyer beware"

the green pages

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

How to J,ist in the
Directory or Besources
Nonprofits, volunteer organization.5 and meetings always list free! Please include the name of a contact person,
addreS5 and phone numrer so we can verify information as needed. This information will not re included in the
listing unles.5 it is also part of the listing.
Prawvivor bus~ services, products, professionals and treatment centers have these advertising optiorn:
~

Sizes

Cost per issue

$15.00

Listing

1/8 page

Business Card, 3 1/2" x 2", 2" x 3 1/2"

$30.00

1/4 page

3 3/4" X 5", 5" X 3 3/4", 2" X 10"

$55.00

1/2 page

7 1/2" X 5", 5" X 7 1/2"

$90.00

Full page

7 1/2" X 10"

$165.00

Inside Back Cover

7 1/2" X 10"

$200.00

Outside Back Cover

7 1/2" X 10"

$250.00

Display advertisers automatically receive a Directory listing for the issues in which the display ad appears.
Please use United States currency only and add 5.8125% sales tax. Make check or money order payable to
the Survivor Press.

Send all listings and camera ready display ads with payment to

Directory of Resources
Survivor Press

POBox30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190 USA

the green pages

"caveat emptor I buyer beware"

15

TO TELL Tt--16 TRlATt--1:
Ame..-.ica Speaks OtAt AbotAt Jncest and SextAal AbtAse
StAnday, AtA9tAst 1, 1993
Sweeney Convention Cente..-.
Santa Fe,

NM

Last year, a groL\p of SL\rvivors in Santa Fe presented a free commL\niiy
event, to highlight the healing aspects of oL\r childhood experience. Over 500
people attended, and CNN prodL\ced the docL\mentary, "Breaking the Silence",
featL\ring the event. Jt has been aired several times aroL\nd the world.
This year, the 9roL\p has expanded, and is sponsoring a nationwide
speakoL\tl SL\rvivors all across .America are pL\tting together their own events,
all to coincide on SL\nday, .AL\gL\st 1st. We are joining hands across the nation,
to speak oL\r frL\th, to encoL\rage others to heal, to wake L\P oL\r commL\nities, and
to move not jL\st from victim to SL\rvivor1 bL\t from SL\rvivor to thriver That is OL\r
deserved legacy! We invite yoL\ to join L\S for an inspiring day of workshops,
speakers, discL\ssion groL\ps, entertainment and healing. Complete anonymity
will be available for those who choose it.

MORNING SESSION: 10 AM - 12 NOON
WORKSHOPS FOR SURVIVORS & PRO-SURVIVORS
•Artas a Healing Tool - led by Christine Tieman, MA, ATR
• Writing through Recovery- led by Maria Selby, MA and poetess
• Movement Expressions - led by lnnermotion, a survivor dance troupe from Florida
(There is a $20 fee for each workshop. Scholarships are available. Pre-registration is requested
by July 25th. Call 1-800-578-1292 for information.)
THE MAIN EVENT: 1 :30 PM - 5:00 PM
FREE COMMUNITY PROGRAM!
featuring speakers (women, men and teens), slide show, entertainment by Inner motion and
People in Reality, breakout discussion groups (topics: women survivors, men survivors, clergy
abuse, ritual abuse, for families and friends, community action) and guest speaker Wayne Muller,
author of The Legacy of the Heart: The Spiritual Advantages of a Painful Childhood.
EVENING CELEBRATION: 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM
a buffet dinner ($1 O in advance, $12 at the door) plus drumming, dancing and musical
entertainment. Bring your rattles and drums! (No charge after 7:00 pm)

sponsored

by Bread

for the 3ol,\rney1 a non-profit organization

TOTELL THETRUTH P.O.Box8117

SantaFe,NM 87504-8117

505-986-8944 800-578-1292

Please make checks payable to "Bread for the Journey/Truth."

r------------------------------,
r------------------------------,
WORKSHOP REGISTRATION FORM
:
DINNER TICKET ORDER FORM
:

1
I
1
I
I

1
I
1 I
Name
---------------- I 1
Address________________ I 1
: City_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ State.___ Zip_ _ _ _ : 1I
I Phone(
I I

: Please indicate your choice: □ Art □ Writing
1 Please enclose your workshop fee of $20.

□

I

Name_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 1
Address
1
--------------- I
City_ _ _ _ _ _ _ State._ _ Zip_ _ _ _ 1
Poo~(
I
I
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Does The Body Remember?

Donna Michael Gleckler
California
I am a survivor of chronic physical and sexual
abuse by my father. This effort at recovery began about
five years ago, with incest issues coming to the fore
about two years ago. The initial precipitant to getting
into the work was a very positive experience with
gynecological surgery.
I hold a Master's Degree in Clinical Social Work,
although I do not currently practice as a therapist I
social worker.

Crushed
Overwhelmed the weight of it crushes me
I am prostrate with grief
The enormity of it the horrible immensity
The force of it
Can not be measured by time or space
If I look around and multiply it by the real numbers
I am crushed anew
I would say it was a galaxy or a milky way
But even that feels too finite, too limited
It is the weight of all the world
Aghast, and the worst is the shock is wearing off
And I begin to feel it
I feel it in my muscles and yes even in my bones
Gravity has increased tenfold
I stagger under the burden
The air presses down on me heavy
Even the air feels heavy
It is almost incomprehensible but I begin to comprehend
And therein lies the smashing blow
And blow after blow after blow
The unbearable pain
The horror which crushes
So I can not raise my head for sadness
I can not raise my shoulders
From the millstone of the knowledge
It bears down on my soul and crushes me
Is this pain the price of having a soul?
I can not go back to being soulless
But I wonder if I can bear it
I ccy out it is not to be borne
I see no real choice

In Search of Healing

On love and work I do fine - BUT
My body is the battleground
It's been twenty years since .
my stomach sent its pain as clue
And lately now it's my belly too
It's been over ten years since my head began to ache
I have often worn my shoulders as earrings
My muscles stay primed, alerted
drawn up and strained forward
I am often near a cringe
I am braced - for what?
Could it be assault?
It's been seventeen years since
out of the blue I "pinched" a nerve in my neck
And the pain now merging into my upper back
sends shooting throbs down my ann
It's been nine years-since my lower back cried revolt
"We can't hold you up any longer
we have a pelvis to protect"
I have triumphed over the "female pain" of twenty-odd
years
By having parts removed
I do believe I won that one
To me the price became quite affordable
as the agony less and less endurable
Now if I could just amputate
my stomach, belly, head, neck, back and ann
Then I would not need to ask
Does the body remember?

Call A Spade A Spade
Let's not call it molestation
We are too comfortable with that word
Sanitized of feeling
So we can say it easily
Say it easily without thinking
what it really means
Say it easily
without feeling flesh being pried open
Let's not call it sexual abuse
Let's not call it incest
Let's call it what it is
Let's call it daughter-rape
Let's call it son-sodomy
Let's call it what it is, child rape
The rape of young children
Children with small baby fat thighs

Number 1

33

What A Cruel Trick

The Nothing Feeling

When I was, what, eleven?
I prayed with the scapula
At school the nuns told us
If you really believed and really prayed
Then your prayer would be answered
And so I prayed
that my father would come home on time, quiet and sober
I often prayed late, far later
far later than his longed-for quiet arrival time
I prayed alone, later and later
Holding the scapula, harder and harder
Tcying to make myself believe, fiercer and fiercer
Because if I believed, it would work
The nuns said so, didn't they?
It never worked
Imagine my despair heavily weighed down with my own
guilt
I had done it wrong,- imperfectly
The church urged perfection
Wasn't Christ perfect?
Wasn't I supposed to be just like Christ?
I had not totally believed
Not prayed perfectly, somehow
It broke my heart
And among my broken heart glass shards
lie the ragged-edged knives of shame and guilt
It was my fauU when he arrived late and mean
on a sadistic tear
My church had placed a burden on me
"Believe perfectly and you can make it happen"
Ah, the perfectly part, the ultimate escape clause
Didn't they ever guess
I was desperate enough to take it oh so seriously?
I grabbed at their straw
I hung my world on it
I took all the responsibility
As if I had the power to stop his drunken rages
What a cruel trick to play on a child
To tell them if they only believe
They can stop rape with a prayer

The second last time I remember feeling nothing
was when he tortured the bird before my six year old eyes
The bird struggled and he laughed, his high-pitched laugh
The bird struggled and broke its own neck
It so desperately wanted to get away
So desperately it broke its own neck
to break from the trap of his hands
And I remember feeling NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL
To this day I can't recall if I liked our pet bird
I am told we buried it with ceremony
But that too is lost to me
The last time I remember feeling nothing
was when my husband said
"your mom died this morning"
I would have curled into a ball
except for hanging on him as he stood
And I screamed over and over
"I feel NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL"
So I could guess the feeling's force
the force of the unfeelable feeling
And yet, sadly I feel so much better about her death
than her life

Wounded Dog
Sometimes I feel so raw
Like my skin does not protect me enough from the world
I need a better, thicker, stronger barrier
And I need so much protection
I feel like a wounded dog
cowering under the bed
I feel like a wounded dog
hiding, shaking and licking my wounds

Heart Thud
I forget all about it for a little while
And then suddenly remember
With a heart thud of ah no this is me, my life
And find myself wishing
This chronic gnawing at my soul
Was someone else's life

34

Number 1

In Search of Healing

If I Publish - The Family Dilemma

How Often Was It Rape?
This poem was written to my rrwther,
shortly after her death.

Your things came this morning
I had looked forward t.o receiving them
Few things stoke my acquisitiveness, my lust for things
But I confess dishes have always topped my list
And so I eagerly awaited your dishes
And when I had unwrapped them all
I felt they were all I had left of you
Andi wept
And I felt for the millionth time
that your life wasn't enough
It wasn't enough for you, for anybody
You raised your children, four "good citizens"
And you took pride and yes even joy in that
But no, it wasn't enough
There is the rest of the story
The story of how my father ran rough-shod over you
How he ranted and raved
And how he backed up that ranting physically, and with force
And how his appetites were
I knew his appetites in ways I would rather not know
I knew his appetites to be cruel, inhuman and sadistic
I knew his glee
I knew his sexual proclivities
I knew his enraged refusal to take no for an answer
And so I stand at my kitchen window with my lonely dishes
And I wonder, how often did he rape you?
And I know bitterness
Your lovely china teacups overflow with bitterness
before my eyes
His demands, as his self, were compulsive
He did not brook opposition often
How often was it rape?
How often did you successfully refuse him?
I am sure sometimes
I am equally sure there were other times
Many times when it was just easier to give in
His persistence, I know, was beyond amazing
I am sure he did not always take no for an answer
I know now you were afraid of him
Did he hit you for it, the sex?
My bet is yes
And I bet you never called it rape
Once I snooped, as girls sometimes do, in your dresser drawer
I found an old book, very Catholic,
It advised that many women were essentially raped
by their husbands
The tone was one of resigned acceptance
Were you always resigned to his sickening and sick hands?
I know you feared him
And I bet you never called it rape
But I will
I will call it rape
I will call it rape for you
In Search of Healing

Number 1

If I publish and they see it
I fear they will be lost to me forevermore
I fear I will be like a lone Holocaust survivor
with my entire family wiped out to my existence
Gone totally gone
Sometimes I don't feel I have a family now
But if I publish
I fear it will be irrevocable, not on my side but theirs
I fear I will be persona non grata ,
I fear I will cease to exist in their sphere, their orbit
It is not my orbit but I have had the ability and opportunity
to dip into it
If I publish I fear we will be tom asunder and never be put
together
I fear I will have no family, none, none at all
To be the only lone survivor, not a single blood relative
Totally alone in all the world
To have no one in all the world
Cast out and cut adrift with no kith or kin
But I refuse to use a pen name
I refuse
Why must I hide it?
Why should I hide it?
The thought angers me
There is power in the truth
If ttie truth sets us free then lies enslave
The truth is a beacon for those who would see
The truth is the bell-weather of change
The truth calls us to task whether we like it or not
The truth can move us and shake us
It brooks no cowardice
It cries out to be proclaimed
It has a driving force, a will of its own
It rents the sea!lli on our carefully constructed realities
Yes, there is power in the truth
Having been powerless I will take my rightful power
I will not renounce my power
I will not silence myself
I delete their names and their personal details
But I will not delete me
My father thought he could delete me
My father thought he could delete my will
He found out otherwise

35

Parallel Universes
THE EVERYDAY REALITY
of washing socks
and late for the bus
the social chitchat
and shortening skirts
Life, such as this is, is concrete and physical
and ever so mundane
If we keep it mundane enough, reality won't set in
And we can keep our minds out
The upper part of our minds is supposedly engaged
We skate only on the surface of the waters of our minds
-Never allowing ourselves to slip into the waters even an inch
For in the waters' depths is the frightening universe
The deep deep depths of the denied
And we clamor and claw and cringe and cling to the surface of the
water
We want no part of the depths of our souls

THE OTHER LAND
Of horror flashes
The knife to the eye
The rape of our tiny spaces
The secret spaces of our souls
Where the truth is buried
But send our flares
Bright flashing split second illuminating flares
that flash the horror of the other world before our faces,
in our muscles, in our thoughts
Our bodies flinch and go rigid
We smell the smells and block the blows
and stand with our toes over the vast abyss
of the secret canyons and chasms of pain
The vast vast universe of our pain
The horrors of it make us gasp
At the pain we could not endure then, but somehow did,
In the unreality of the other land
Land of dead time, dead space, dead air, dead souls
It feels more real than anything, the only reality
And yet it is a different reality, a covert world
It is a sadness beyond all measure to possess such secret
realities

THE OTHER LAND
Of perverse truth
The differentness as the possessor of secret and terrible
knowledge all would deny, expunge and flee from
It is society that makes us different
We can not, or will not, just chit chat
And our reality reminds all of hell's infinite possibilities
We say, "all is not as it should be,
all is not as you have labored so long to contrive, to pretend,
to play the numb fool"
All of that is sand on the beach
Sand on the beach about to be rearranged
The tide is coming in
The truth is coming in

36

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Dawna Elaine Page
Colorado
I have been writing poetry since the age of twelve, which happens to be the same year that I put an end to the sexual
abuse that began when I was seven. My best friend's grandfather was a child rrwlester, and he abused both his
granddaughters and me over the years. As an adul~ I was married to a physically abusive drug-addict and later raped
by an acquaintance. Today I am married again to a gentle and supportive man. Four years of therapy have enabled me
to make many positive changes in my life, and I will continue seeking support as T,ong as I am learning and growing.
Life today is good.

Little Girl

Healing

Seven is the time for picking strawberries
sweet and dusty from the garden.
Seven is the time for skipping rope,
playing jacks, telling secrets.
Not keeping them.

The books and bread of childhood
borne in torn and bleeding hands
sheltered secrets from their sight.
My eyes, once grey as mice, faded
brown then gold then green
suffocating in colorlessness. I never
saw his eyes, only blue and ice.

Seven is when life bubbles over with giggles
chocolates from Grandma, dominoes with Dad.
But just one touch can knock them all down.

So I'm trying on seven again
(my niece is showing me how)
and it's easy to be small
and scared on the slide
since the first time I was seven
I wasn't.

In braille, his hands
read horses, fish and tobacco
and my skin
sought solace
in adulterated wine,
feint sweetness. Not his
fist split me open
on his path in the dust
I traced
the wine and words of sister women
who broke bread in healing hands
shattered secrets in the night.

For Isaac

The pail removed, the mouse still ran blind circles ...

I was delivered to the world
by the hands of a surgeon.
Handled over the years by as many men.
At thirty
I was delivered from the world of
pedophiles rapists and batterers
by the strength of my own
tom and bleeding fingers
clinging to the last shred
each time.
I've been caressed by lovers and husbands
shaped by strokes of masseuse and mentor
even soothed by sisters in pain.
Many hands have held me
seeking
to own to use to heal to share.
But never was I touched
until you encircled my finger
with your tiny fist
the day I delivered you.

The trains and teddies of my childhood
trapped by pen on paper pages
carry my child
my pain
my wisdom
to a place where a little girl cries alone
her only tears her bleeding hands.

Seven is when you're not afraid Lo swing high,
laugh loud, try anything twice.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

37

Linda Gean
New Mexico
August 8, 1992 (my 48th birthday)
My name is Linda Gean.
I am an incest survivor.
Until this year, my only memories were of one
incident qf my step-father in bed with me when I was
13. He had his right arm under my head and his hand
on my breas~ and his le.ft hand was in my private part
in my pants. I had memories of him talking realfiUhy
sex stuff to me whenever I helped himfixfence,Jeed
cattle, or anytime I was alone with him When we
would "horse around" he'd always end up groping my
breasts and/or groin. Every time I wok a bath, he'd
come in, sometimes naked himself. I'd try t,o hide myself
by pulling my legs up to my chest and use the washcloth
t,o cover me. He would grab at me and yank the
washcl,oth away. He made me wuch his penis. lf I
wanted my allowance, want,ed t,o go t,o the movies,
wanted to go on a school function ( class parties, ball
games,jield trips, etc.) I had to give him a 'Jeel" ofmy
breasts and/or groin. He would often sneak up behind •
me and "gmb" afeel or goose me.
/first went int,o individual therapy in 1985. In
1989 I went into hypnotherapy, and I learned that a l,ot
qf reaUy bad things had happened t,o me. Even though
my subconscious had "told al4 "I still tried t,o deny it.
The male therapist I saw dm no therapy with the
conscious me, though, and I carried a lot of anger
inside. He also got me involved in some evil type of
work, and this was very troubling and upsetting t,o me.
/finally ''woke up" to how he was abusing me and
st,opped seeing him I occasionally see his female
associate, who became afriend over the years. She
works with me when I need her help.
In February, 1992, I began group therapy. Things
began coming into conscious awareness through
nightmares and.flashbacks. I can now accept it aU as
fact because I have the conscious awareness of it now.
Nightmare memories I've had: 1) My step-father
was aborting a baby (his)jrom me. I was watching
from overhead. Through the hypnotherapy I learned
that he got me pregnant twice - 6 months apart then abort,ed them both himself, crudely, inhumanely,
brutally, the first one when I was 12, the second when I

38

was 13. 2) He put me into a hole, and I saw him
shoveling dirt onto me. 3) He had me laying naked in
the snow, and he was packing snow inside my vagina.
Through therapy we decided he must have been trying
t,o stop or slow down bleeding ofter one of the abortians.
4) He nearly drowned me in a horse tank I liked t,o
swim in - I was about 10. 5) He had me backed up
against a post in the shed, he was poking me in the
sternum area, which is very painfu4 and he was
laughing at my pain. Flashbacks ( and some dreams):
He hit me on my head, shoulders, entire back, legs and
feet, sometimes with his hand, sometimes with an object
that looks like a rubber hose; he held a heated branding
iron in my face; he kicked me in the tailbone with his
boot; he put pillows on my face; and other things that
have "le.ft" me right now.
I'm sure my therapy is coming t,o an end. After
seven years, I'm ready to put the past behind me and
get on with my life. I want t,o do some inner child work,
then I feel I will be done. I know more memories may
come up in the future, but not I know how t,o work with
those and resolve them. I'm now "surviving" by doing
what's bestforme ( and my subconscious). With God's
help we'll make it. I do lots of positive oJfirmations
daily, and reverse any negative thought immediately
with positive affirmations.
This past May I received my Bachelor ofArt degree
in Psychology. I also have an Associate ofArt degree in
Criminal Justice. I was a Licensed Practical Nurse
until I injured my lower back in 1976. I went through a
head injury accident in 1981, which took some time to
recaver from. I was in an aut,o accident in 1987, which
I still receive treatmentfor.
My uUimate goal is t,o have my own business where
those who cannot afford individual counseling can
come. I know there are groups at affordable rates, but
some people aren't ready for that t,o start with; they go
because it's all they can afford. And, because ofmy own
experience with what I would call extremely inept
thempists, I know that sometimes inexpensive therapy
isn't necessarily good therapy. I know/ can give good,
empathetic therapy, and it will be affordable.
I believe this is God's plan for me, and it makes me
happy that HE chose me t,o do this.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

You took my identity.
You stole it away from me.
Now I don't know who I am.
I don't know what my dreams were then - if I even
had any.
I don't know what I wanted to become.
So many choices I thought were mine weren't.
I thought I chose not to have sex until I was 19.
That turned out to be your choice.
I wanted to have 3 or 4 children.
You ravaged my body and I wasn't granted that choice.
Who am I? What am I all about?
I feel like an empty shell.
I go about doing what is expected of me, not knowing
why.
I have to eat, so I cook.
I have to pass my classes, so I study.
I have to be friendly, so I put a smile on my face.
I have to have goals, so I pretend to set some.
I've never felt like I belong here on earth.
I've never felt at home here on earth.
I've never felt like I belong anywhere.
I feel depression swallowing me up.
I try to fight it.
For what? Why?
I feel like I'm living inside a dark, ·musty, hovering
cloud.
It's uncomfortable.
It feels stifling, suffocating.
I'm supposed to be healing and finding myself.
How can I find me if I don't know who I'm looking for?
I don't know who I am.
I don't know what I'm all about.
Where. do I find me?
How do I know when I find me?
You took my identity and I feel like nobody.
You took my identity and I don't know who the real me
is.
You took my identity and I don't know where to find it
now.
You took my identity, my childhood, and most ofmy
adulthood.
Please give me back my identity!
I need it now.
I want to know who I am, what I am, and why.

If
If I close my eyes, he won't see me.
If I keep my eyes open, I1l see him coming to get me.
If I stop breathing, he won't hear me.
If I breathe, I feel the pain.
If I make myself real small, he won't find me.
If I make myself invisible, he can't play tricks on me.
If I close my mouth tight, he won't poke stuff in it.
If I speak up, no one will hear.
If I cross my legs tight, he can't get between them.
If I wear jeans, he can't get in ???
If I cry real hard, he'll feel sorry for me.
If I laugh at anything, he'll think I'm having fun.
If I tell anyone, I'll disappear forever.
If I don't tell someone, I'm "lost" forever.
If I love daddy, I'll do what he wants me to.
If I want daddy to love me, I'll let him hurt me.
If I wasn't such a bad girl, he wouldn't hurt me.
If I learn to be a good girl, he'll treat me nicer.
If I crawl way back in the closet, he won't get me.
If I hide under the bed, he won't look for me there.
If I pretend to be asleep, he'll leave me alone??
If I am awake, he'll crawl in beside me.
If I scream as loud as I can, he'll hit me.
If I scream inside me, no one will hear and I'll be safe.
If I cling to Mom, hfll keep his hands off me.
If I had Grandma live here, I'd be safe all the time.
If I shut my bedroom door, he can't come in???
If I could just lock the bathroom door, I could bathe in safety.
If I were fat-real fat-he'd leave me alone.
If I look ugly and old, he won't want me.
If I ever have sex with anyone else, he'll kill me.
If I ever want children, he's taken that choice away from me.
If I am so worthless and bad, why am I here?
If there really is a GOD, why does he let this go on?
If there really is a GOD, why doesn't he take the mean man away?
If Mom dies, what will happen to me?
If Mom weren't so naive, she'd see what he's doing.
If I'm not safe in my own home, where am I safe?
If I'm not safe in my own body, where am I safe?
If I'm not safe in my own head, where am I safe?
If I killed him, who would understand or help me?
If I don't kill him, how will I keep from being killed?

IF I DIED, he would still find a way to get me.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

39

Do You Know What It's Uke?
DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO
live in a body that doesn't feel like mine?
live with a mind that doesn't feel like mine?
make a decision and wait to be condemned for it?
have 50 different things whirling around in my head at once and I can't center on one single thought?
be 48 and realize I've never had a life of my own?
never have had a childhood because I was made a woman at the age of 5?
be unable to trust my choices because someone else always made the choices for me before?
. . . feel I've made a right choice, but some inner voice(s) tells me it's wrong?
want my own children, but to know I can't have any, because of his abortions on me?
look back at my 48 years and be able to claim nothing as mine - everything I've done seems to be a direct result of what he
did to me? Even my accomplishments feel like failures to me.
be afraid to go to bed because of the memories that may come?
feel powerless -AGAIN - because I can't take him to court for raping me for 12 years and for killing my babies??
feel re-abused when I "remember" what he did?
have the excruciating body memories when I "remember"?
want to die time after time so I don't have to suffer any more/again?
hurt to the very core of my being?
love and believe in God, but 1¥1te him for letting this happen to me?
feel like such a success and such a failure at the same time?
feel like my entire life belongs to someone else, not me?
feel terrified of growing old with no children to love me, to comfort me, to care about me?
feel alone even when surrounded by people?
feel such deep, genuine hate for my body?
despise myself for being too weak-willed to quit eating wrong and to quit smoking?
want inner peace and contentment desperately; but, every time I think I've accomplished that, along comes another memory
or someone confusing me, and it's shattered?
have so much love to give, but I can't trust anyone enough to let them get close to me so I can give it?
hear what people are saying to me, but not be able to believe them?
feel so out of touch with my feelings - I wonder if there are any?
want to laugh and have fun, but there's nothing funny in my life or about my life?
feel so frustrated to get this therapy over with, but there seem to be memories coming up every time I think I'm about done;
and there seems to be no end to body and psyche parts that need work and healing, also?
look into a mirror and see a pretty woman, then the next time - maybe just a few minutes later - look at the ugliest, most
worthless bitch in the world in that mirror?
be humiliated by being bawled out in front of friends/family, for no reason?
have to go fix fence, feed cows, pull weeds throughout the entire pasture (after the flood), and do chores like aboy, instead
of doing girl stuff?
have to give him a feel of my tits or let him grope my groin so I could go to a picture show or some school function, or to get
my allowance?
be going through all the hell I've gone through the past seven years and wonder why I continue?
wonder if it ever ends?
feel like there are more than just me occupying my body/mind? I do, say, react to things and later wonder why - what I
respond with is so unlike me - it's real scary.
feel so proud of myself for what I've accomplished, then Mom says I'm "wallowing" in this stuff, and it's been like an anvil
landed on me and I can't get over the hurt, bewilderment, devastation that caused me.
be told one thing, then something else totally contradictory? The confusion that causes is enormous.
want to be cared for, but I've been the care giver and protector for all my life, and I don't know how to ask to be cared for?
want to just lay down and hope to never wake up?
feel positive and negative about life at the same time? I can't seem to separate them.
end this feeling that I haven't covered everything yet? I have to end it sometime, so now is a good time.

40

Number 1

In Search of Healing

qrnneMarie
Illinois
When I was twelve years of age, I was rrwlested by my cousin. At age nineteen, I was raped by an
aquaintance. But even worseforme, I was sexually, physically, verbally and emotionally abused by my
rrwther from the time I was a baby. Also, I was often neglected. The physical and sexual abuse stopped when
I was about thirteen years old.
I now understand the depth of my rrwther's mental illness. Because of this, I hold no anirrwsity toward
her. But, now that I am beginning to remember parts ofmy past, it rrwkes being with her extremely difficult.
I am learning with the help of an excellent therapist to set boundaries - boundaries I had never know
before - by limiting the arrwunt of time I spend with my rrwther.

A Gift for Mommy

Silence

I made Mommy a necklace out of some plastic beads
when I was only four years old. Mommy was busy ironing in
the kitchen. I ran into her with the beaded gift in my small
hands. She didn't want to be bothered by a little girl and her
childish jewelry.
I wanted Mommy's attention, approval and acceptance
so .desperately. I kept nagging at her to notice me and my
gift. I accidentally knocked over the sprinkling bottle. It was
the old fashioned type that used a glass soda bottle with a
cork top for the sprinkler.
The bottle fell to the floor and broke into several
pieces. Mommy was furious with me! She jerked me by my
hair and dragged me off into the.bedroom. Mommy stripped
me naked and tied me spread-eagle to the bed.
I knew better than to utter a sound for that would only
make matters worse for me, but inside I was terrified.
Mommy disappeared briefly. When she returned, she had a
piece of the broken glass in her hand. Mommy calmly said
to me, "I'll teach you not to disturb me when I'm busy and
not to break things." Mommy then took the piece of glass
and shoved it inside me. The pain was unbearable! The
blood frightened me even more.
I wanted to scream and cry; but I knew better than to
break anything else ever again, including Mommy's rule
about silence. I could only cry inwardly and scream without
a voice.
I have no idea whatever happened to that beaded
necklace, but it was the last one I ever made.

Silence holds the family secrets.
Silence keeps the skeletons in their closets.

In Search of Healing

"What goes on in this house is our business!"
"Don't you ever tell anybody about ... !"
Silence breeds fear and teaches shame.
Silence protects those who hurt us.
"Keep your lying mouth shut!"
"Who'd believe a dumb kid like you?"
Silence leads to self-blame and guilt.
Silence hides the tears and the pain inside.
"Be quiet, you little brat!"
"Don't you dare make a sound!"
Silence breaks the heart and destroys the spirit.
Silence leaves us alone in confused agony.

Number 1

41

Chrystie
Ont:a.rio, Canada
This series of dmwings represents a regular
occurrence in my life as·a child. It was a ritual which
occurred several times a week when I was between the
ages of two andfive.
The dmwing_s can be seen in a matter of minutes,
but it took me one year ofpainstaking agony to' retrieve
this experience. It came in bits and pieces of disjointed
pictures and much body pain. One cia,y, in session with
my therapis~ I exciliimed, ''I've got it! It was a
ceremony!"
I decided to confront Mother. .I wanted her to
validate my experience and tell me whal had happened
there. However, I was afmid thal ifI said even one thing
wrong, she would jump on thal detai~ to invalidate
everything. So I drew itfor her and wrote the words.
It was a silent confrontation. I turned the pages,
while she read. The words were in Ukrainian, our
native language. My parents, being immigrants, did not
speak or read English well
When it was over, she looked at me and said,
''What's this supposed to be?" She then went on for an
hour, trying to: convince me thal no child was as well
caredfor as twas.
I asked her to leave.

Presented person to person Aug 7/1988

For Mother

•

~Ol-{1

C
From her little girl,
Chzystie

42

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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take me
from my bed

In Search of Healing

·-

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Number 1

43

You used
to lead
me out
of my room

44

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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in the corner,
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hummed and whispered
among yourselves

In Search of Healing

Number 1

45

y

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All of you

puton
grayish-brown robes

46

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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You used to undress me and
put me naked on that table

In Search of Healing

Number 1

47

)

YOU ALWAYS STOOD HERE

It was as if
I were not a person.
I knew all these people
during the day.

48

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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Number 1

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You smeared
something
black,
like
ashes,
on
my

naked
body.

I
hated
it.

50

Number 1

In Search of Healing

(!J~ l~A lrd AA H Uf"~ Ntrpt
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You put something like oil over me
and usually whispered and hummed together

Number 1

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Number 1

In Search of Healing

And you drew things
with a sharp object
on my naked body.
That really hurt
as though someone
were sending
electricity
through me.

BUT YOU NEVER LEFT ANY MARKS.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

53

,~

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f

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Number 1

In Search of Healing

AND YOU, MOTHER
often held me down
while these people theseour friends did these things to me

In Search of Healing

Number 1

55

AND TIIlS IS HOW
HE-

YOU KNOW WHO LOVED ME
And you all stood there
in a circle
.andlooked

AND YOU DID, TOO

In Search of Healing

Number 1

57

/J11 rl!e~ 06r~~
If llp.Jr /J II 11 '/ 5 //I#I/Ii. i TJ,f .
141e 11{ 17/Jff 11,11,-1111 IJ AC>
~oro AtJlCl<...4 cl7AT'1 •
l{/1 K!lllil/'

At the end, you wiped me off, put on my clothes,
and you led me back to my bed to sleep.

58

Number 1

In Search of Healing

H,; lit
Ht

1-11'1 or o

/J, I 6 II O C ~
Mr½ ne fe.
During the day
everyone behaved
as though
nothing
had happened
the night
before

In Search of Healing

Number 1

59

efl
1:::-----------

I

60

Number 1

In Search of Healing

This

event
happened
regularly,

Mother!

In Search of Healing

Number 1

61

Barbara Rose
Minnesota
The Lump
There is a lump in my throat; it nags and it lingers. It
feels like my entire body is sending all of its energy, anxiety
and panic to one spot at the base of my throat where my
neck connects to my chest. This is a familiar feeling, and it
has come and gone before on many occasions in my adult
life.
This lump in my throat is not leaving; it is with me night
and day. I can't seem to get rid of it this time. But yet there
is a way to rid myself of it once and for all and that time has
come, for the lump is ready - it is time - it is tired of
continually being tucked away. I am ready; it is safe now.
I relax comfortably, sitting and closing my eyes. The
memory is beckoning, pleading to be released, screaming to
be heard. I immediately become four years old, dressedin
my favorite cowgirl outfit. Today is a special day at nursery
school; pictures are being taken and I want to feel extra
special. As luck would have it, my favorite boy friend,
Jimmy C., is wearing his cowboy outfit, and we have so
much fun playing cowboy and cowgirl together. He lets me
wear his hat and we squeal with dt!light chasing each other.
Picture time comes and goes, then lunch time, and then we
pull out our blankets to rest.
Nap time, blinds closed, the cool floor, relief. As nap
time ends, we begin to stir, whispering and giggling. The
excitement increases until the teachers give in to our
exuberance.
Story time, play time, snack time. Too soon, the special
day is over. I am filled with contentment as I prepare to
walk home. We live three houses away from nursery school,
and I always feel like such a big girl to be able to walk home
without anyone having to pick me up. I wave goodbye to my
teachers, and as I walk out the door I realize that today will
be different. He is there. Standing outside his car with the
'front windows rolled down and his hands in his pockets.
There is nowhere to run. I already know that he is
bigger, faster and more powerful than I. He opens his door
and signals - come along before I get impatient. He is
already agitated; I can see it in his face. I don't want to
make him mad, too. As I climb into the car I greet him softly
- Hello Uncle Al. Sick and trembling, I sit in the front seat
as he starts the car and begins slowly driving.
His hand reaches over and sliaes my favorite cowgirl
skirt up, so that my bare legs are touching the vinyl seat
cover. He separates my legs, and puts his hand into my
underpants and begins playing with my private parts. I split.
There is a convenient spot by the light on the ceiling of the
car from where I can watch.

The drive is a short one to the dead end on the little
girl's street. He stops the car, and as I look down I can see
that look on his face. He removes his hand from her
underwear and orders the four year old to the back seat.
She does not move quickly enough, and he angrily picks her
up and throws her into the back. He follows close behind. I
can't see whether or not the little girl is struggling beneath
his body, and I want to fight for her. I hear the zip as he
pulls his fly down and feel the soft part of his body touch
her face. I get glimpses of him forcing his penis into her tiny
mouth. Cramming it down her throat as she struggles to
breath, gagging, suffocating. It does not take him long to get
complete gratification from this attack, and his body thrusts
into her face as he groans in pleasure. She appears to be
unconscious. As he moves away, she begins to come to life,
choking, gagging and struggling to breathe, gasping for air.
As she gags to throw up he shoots her that "don't you dare"
look, and remembering even more pain she obeys.
Swallowing, she chokes down that thick sticky mass that
fills her mouth and throat. I return now. I am back in my
body and watch as he zips up his pants and climbs back into
the front seat. He starts the car and drives me home. As I
numbly climb out of the car he hands me a lollipop and
says, "Be a good girl; don't get into any cars with strangers."
The lump in my throat explodes. I scream, the four
year old screams and finally there is relief.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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In Search ofHealing relies on submissions from its readers. In order to best present your work, please follow these guidelines:
1.

Submissions must be the original work of the author or artist submitting. Contributors younger than 18 years of age must
include a written permission from parent or guardian.
2. Include a brief cover letter giving information about your history and/or the work presented. Be clear about your need to
remain anonymous or to use a pen name, first name only or full name.
3. Writing should be typed on 8 1/2" x 11" white bond paper. Number pages of prose and write name, address and phone
number on each page of your submission.
4. Writing in any language is accepted. Provide an English translation if at all possible.
5. Art must be black and white or reproducible in black and white. Do not send originals. Send PMT's, slides, photographs or
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Survivors need 4UIZV/Vf1f<
"I'm listening to a lot of war stories, listening to the terror. Whatever you don't talk about in your conscious
life is going to get stored, and when your brain and body can't take it all, it's going to come out somewhere
This is burnout with the same kinds of symptoms our clients have."
•
Secondary PTSD: Beyond Burnout

"Sexual abuse is a term I associate with red flannel pajamas, a junior prom and my mother. Like most people,
I used to think of sexual abuse as unwanted sexual intercourse, but I have learned there are other ways to
inflict sexual pain."
When Sexual Abuse Is More Than Touching

"What happens to a person who has been sexually abused in a language other than the dominant language of
this countzy, English? Let me illustrate through my own experience."
Language, Triggers and Loss

"One of the best reasons to believe survivors' memories is because believing initiates and enhances healing.
As survivors begin to remember the specific abuses they lived through, they begin to heal. That is the
miracle. All the cognitive therapy, dmg therapy and behavioral reinforcement that survivors have tried just
do not work like GETTING THE MEMORIES."
Believing Heal<;

Want more?
Turn the page for subscription information.

~

Ask your bookseller to order ~t!RV/vtJR.

Survivor Press
PO Box 30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190 USA

Bulk Rate
US Postage
PAID
Albuquerque, ·NM
Permit No. 403



Volume l, Number 1

1993
$5 USA; $5.75 outside USA

In Search ofHealing is created by
Jiivanii, Editor
Martha Chambers, Copyeditor
Mazy "Tinker" Colby, Typesetter and Designer
Caro]ynne Colby-Schmeltzer, Typesetter and Designer
Lynn McColl, Proofreader
Kathryn Prince, Sales Representative
Front Cover: When I Let Myself, I Paim - Watercolor painting with ink by Martha Chambers
Editor's Essay: Toward the Far Shore - Pencil drawing by Daniel Wright
Green Pages Cover: At Harne - Ink drawing by Joseph Chavez

Many thanks to:

Arnold and Deborah of Arnold Litho for their unwavering spiritual and :financial support
Wendy Fidao, LlSW, EDD for her generous :financial gift

In Search ofHealing is a publication of the Survivor Press.
All Rights Reseived. Copyright 1993.
Please do not reproduce any part of this publication
without prior pe:rnp.ssion unless for the purpose of review.

•The mission of the SUIVivor Press is
to promote the healing of people
suffering from the effects of sexual abuse,
empower sUIVivors and prosUIVivors,
stimulate communication within the recovery community,
and increase public awareness
of sexual violence and recovery.

The Survivor Press
PO Box30702
Albuquerque, NM 87190 USA
• ''vulneratus, non victus-wounded, not conquered"

In Search of Healing is a periodical
anthology of writing and art for the purpose of
healing sexual abuse. All material is
contributed by people who are in recovery
from child sexual abuse and by their
supporters. Disclosure of the abuse, even from
years ago, is essential to recovery. Through
creative forms, people who are healing can
express the inexplicable.
S9me selections are extremely graphic. All
are written or drawn from the victim's point of
view, presenting a different perspective on
sexual violence than what is usually conveyed
in the mainstream news and art media.
It is critical that these voices be heard in a
simple, compassionate act of bearing witness.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

3

Editor's Essay:
Toward the Far Shore
Today I read a first person account of a woman who fought for her life and is now recovering from a devastating brain
hemorrhage. She said what so many who have catastrophic health problems say: "This changed my life."
I cried as I read that and realized that I, too, am going through a tremendous life-changing upheaval with recovery from
sexual abuse. I think I'm a survivor twice over, once from the original abuse and again as I go through recovery. Both are
wrenching, profoundly painful experiences.
But, as I unload the destruction from my body and mind, I am becoming aware of a new, genuine psychological wellbeing
I've never known before. This unaccustomed state shows up in many ways, but one in particular strikes me as being especially
rewarding: my changing relationship with other human beings.
One day, I told my spouse of a particularly selfish thing another person said. The succinct response was, "Well, I sure
wouldn't want to be in a flood with her."
I thought about that.
Recovery is a terrible flood of misery and loss, as devastating psychospiritually as when the creek rises. And we all respond,
at times as heroes, at times as jerks. The attitude that some of us deserve to get on the boat and others don't is a heady weapon.
The truth of the matter is that everyone deserves to get on the boat, because we are all human beings. Just check your guns at
the dock, please.
I remember a story I heard years ago attributed to the Buddha, who told a seeker, "The Dharma is like a little boat. Once you
get to the other shore you no longer need it." I didn't understand it, but I thought it was a great image to ponder. The trouble
was, even though I did some powerful pondering, my little boat always stayed moored on this side, and it was empty, too.
I couldn't even see myself in it.
Now, as I thrash about in this terrible flood of memories and
accept the losses, I see not only myself in the boat, but
many, many more people, plus lots of teddy bears
and dogs, cats, birds, goldfish .. . and
we're all rowing, every one of us!
Poet Anne Sexton, both victim and perpetrator,
alluded to "the awful rowing toward God." I think she
must have been rowing by herself, and that is why
she committed suicide. The recovery movement
gives us the opportunity to do this "awful
rowing" together, in the same little boat,
to fulfill our essential nature as
healthy spiritual beings.
And we row, with all our radical differences
and unifying commonalities, our heroism
and jerkiness, through the terrifying
flood, toward the far shore:
toward the God of our
understanding and healing.

4

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Abby Ovitsky
California
I am a survivor of chil,dlwod sexual abuse and have been in therapy a quarter of my life. As my birth and foster
families perpetrated the abuse, and continue w deny it ever happened, I have cut ties with them The hardest part of
healing is supporting myself while I explore the painful menwries. But, if I don't, no one will. Therapy, bodywork,
twelve step and publications like yours help a great deal Isolation has always been part of the abuse.

Moma

Slugger

She stood not five feet.
The shame she dragged around curved spine and tugged at
shoulders. Hair the color of dirty snow thinned like a
blighted lawn in the drought. Bird shaped face and downy
skin covered with the graffiti of life: each worry had
left its
mark, crease, groove,
furrow, pit, gouge,
score, nick, dent.

You packed a mean punch
without raising a hand.
Head blows.
You didn't stop
until the blood ran
out of my ears.

New Toy
I was your ultimate ego trip.
I was your innocence, returned to you.
I thought you were God. And
you thought I was a new toy.

Pickmeup
I am just a little girl. And Daddy is big and strong. Pick me up, Daddy! Pick me up! But Daddy says I am too big. I am too big and
he is too tired and not now.
I am a bigger little girl now. I get on airplanes all by myself. And I am only scared sometimes, like when I am by myself and there
is nobody I know and I don't know what is going to happen next and nobody sees dr hears me. Just sometimes.
Now I am an even bigger little girl. I can decide where I want to live. I don't have to live with Daddy anymore.
There is a strange man. Come with me, he is saying. Why? Where? For how long? I asked. We'll see, he said with a smile, we'll
see. I didn't like his smile, but I didn't know what else to do, so I went with him. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I was scared,
but I didn't tell anybody because I didn't know who to tell.
Would you like to live here with me? asked the man. I didn't know. I guess so, I said. Good, he said, then you will stay. For how
long? Where will I sleep? Will I have my own room? Will you be my Daddy now? But the man just smiled that smile. Then, after a
while, he pulled me onto the bed. What are you doing? I asked him. But the man didn't say anything. He was pulling my shirt off.
Why are you doing that? Why? But the man didn't say anything. I wanted to get away, but he held me down. I cried. Then he
took his pants off. I cried louder. But the man just said be quiet, I cah't concentrate when you are crying. I didn't understand. I
just cried some more. Then there was sticky stuff all over me. I didn't know what it was. When the man was gone and I was
alone, I cried. The man came back again. And again. And I cried and cried. There was no where to go and no one to tell and
nothing to do, so I cried.
Then one day Daddy came. And took me away from the man.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

5

Christine Kidney
Connecticut
I am a survivor of sexual abuse. At present I am in therapy for this hideous crime that was
committed against me. I wrote the following during one ofmy depressed moods. I showed it to
my therapist and she suggested that I get it published, so other survivors can relate to it.

When you were young you were a big part of your family.
When I was young I was invisible.
When you were young you were bounced on someone's knee.
When I was young I was on someone's knee while he sat there and fondled me.
When you were young when you got hurt you got love and affection.
When I was young and got hurt, I was told not to cry.
When you were young and in trouble, things were talked about.
When I was young and in trouble, I was told to shut up and got slapped across the face.
When you were young you had your childhood friends.
When I was young my friends were taken away from me.
When you were young you were playing with toys.
When I was young I had adults playing with me.
When you were young you had dreams.
When I was young I had nightmares.
When you were young you had your parents' love and support.
When I was young I had silence.
When you were young you knew who you were.
When I was young I was in constant turmoil.
When you were young you had innocent experiences.
When I was young I had experiences that no child should have to experience.
When you were young you had sweethearts, boyfriends.
When I was young I was not allowed, after all, if we kissed, what would we do when we were alone.
As an adult, you have stability.
As an adult I have instability.
As an adult, you can love.
As an adult I don't know how.
As an adult, you see some light.
As an adult I can see only darkness.
· As an adult, you can feel emotions.
As an adult I can't feel.
As an adult, you feel fulfilled and alive.
As an adult I feel empty and dead.

6

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Jill Bensley
California
I am an incest survivor who did not remember the abuse until just two years ago at the age of 44. Since that
time I have been through therapy and the gut wrenching memories that have disclosed the horrors of my
childhood and the formerly blank years when the incest occurred. My father was the perpetrator. He is dead now.
He began the abuse when I was just rrwnths old and continued until I was eight. He also raped and abused my
older sister. She is schizophrenic now and does not remember what happened to her. My family is completely
unsupportive, save my brother, who is 8 years younger. Apparently, he was not abused.
During the most intense part of my healing, I wrote poetry, I now have a 140 page book which I plan to self
publish sometime next year. The poems I enclose are from this body of work. I have enclosed several types of
poems. (I understand that some presses do not like to publish graphic expressions of abuse.) I do not wish to use
a pen name.
I am very happy to see so many new journals and maga..zines appearing exposing the horrors we endured.
Hopefully it will finally bring an end to childhood sexual abuse.

Breakfast At Carl's

Autumn

Sitting here in Carl's this morning
spicy bacon in the air
I see myself
reflected in your shine

Something in the fall shadowed pavement
the oaks mottled in the afternoon sun
errant leaves skipping in the wind
saddens me to the core.

the crooked teeth
shiny, thick hair
M &M eyes
feathery brows, perfectly shaped
your spunk, your kid-ness
a painless version of me

The change of wind
the change of seasons
makes me small, aching in the bones
weary with world knowledge
beyond my young age
the grown-up child
with the tender body
that crumbles in the autumn wind.

Eight years old - the year he stopped
the time henceforth he would try to make it up to me
mademoiselle dolls, expensive toys
jaguars, trips to Italy, clothes allowance ...
you never could, dad
you couldn't make me shine
make my eyes sparkle
my face light up
the way my son's does
this morning in Carl's.

In Search of Healing

(Comfortable napping in my brain
curled like a kitten
childhood incest
mom condoning it
aunts and uncles ignoring it).
Like the layers of an onion
outrage and sadness
deepens with each passing autumn
burrows
down
down
deep down
until it will, someday,
hit bottom.

Number 1

7

Grandma Snake
You slither along
breasts sagging, dragging
loose flesh hanging on brittle bones
like a cheap overcoat.
Snake in the grass
snake in my skull
poised in the space
that tells me who I am what I'm worth.
Ready to strike
fangs puncture my brain
indelible, your poison,
''Dirty, evil girl
Never tell"

The Rules
In order to stay alive
and not disappear,
and being an extremely bright
and alert three year old,
I learned the rules
after only one attack.

I won't, grandma srwke
Naw I'm just like you!

l. Let Daddy put his penis in your mouth.
2. Let Daddy hump you until gooey stuff comes out of his
thing.
3. Let Daddy put stuff in your 'gina til it bleeds.
4. Never tell anyone.
5. Never scream.
6. Never kick or bite or hit him.
7. You may cry quietly, but don't wake anyone.
8. You may tell him you hate him and to stop.
(Of course, he won't.)
9. You must let him do this anytime he comes in the
night.
10. If you don't obey the rules, Daddy will kill you.
11. He does this because you are bad.

Waiting Is The Hardest Part
It wasn't the rapes
that were the hardest part.
I numbed my little body to those.
It was the waiting,
the terror in the night
the question in the reveries before sleep:
Will it be tonight?
Will he scare me into numbness again
with his foul scotch breath
and his sweaty, hairy, heavy body?
His limp/hard/angry dick,
his grabbing hands and raspy voice
Will it be tonight?
Will I make it through the night?
Will I die before I wake?
When will he leave again
and let my little self recover
give me time to numb once more
to allow me to survive and
grow up to be a person
to sleep safely, dream of flowers
and green fields and a childhood
I will never know.

8

Number 1

In Search of Healing

My UttleOne

Reginald L. Walker
New Mexico

I'm so very sorry, my little one
it happened
no, you're not ugly
and there's nothing wrong
with your body.
I'm so very sorry, my little one
they betrayed and abandoned you
I lmow it hurts
but it's all over now
they can never do it again.
I'm so very sorry, my little one
but it wasn't even their fault
they were so mixed up and _unhappy
probably because
somewhere
they hurt just like you.
I'm glad we're grown up now
can control our life
but the ache, the hollow remains
and we need to have it,
you and I, together
so we can be ourselves and grow up.
I'm so sorry, my little one
you deserved none of this
you were so lovely and sweet
worthy of all the love you never got.
I lmow they loved you
as they could
it was just too mixed up
and it was never, never enough.
(no, my little one,
you don't need too much,
you need like a little girl).

I am presently incarcerated at Western New Mex'ico
Correctional Facility. I am a bl,ack male 35 years old,
andjrom 6-11 years o/,d I was a victim of incest by my
mother's twin uncles in Columbus, Georgia. I've only
been writing poetry 2 years on a serious level. And with
pain and courage I've learned to express so many of
these negative feelings I suppressed for over 25 years.
In fact it wasn't until I started writing poetry that I was
able to confront that shameful part ofmy life. The hurt
and pain is still there, but I'm dealing with the issues of
guil4 pity and dejection, and the one question I'll never
have an answer for- Why Me? I grew up a single chi/,d
to a single paren4 my mother. And only recently about
18 months ago did I come clean with her and tell her
about everything, and guess what? Her reaction was
total denial and defense against my cmifession. I'm not
in any type of therapy on a clinical level; my therapy is
my writing of poetry. Writing allows me that inner
peace for dealing with my problem and is aform of
escape from behind these prison walls!

Deaf by Rape
My insides
sing a sad
chorus line
of no feelings.

No words.
No flutes of softness.
No effects of sound.
Justa
mute note
only a
victim can hear.

I love you

I will always
be there.

And what
i heard
was lost
ina tear.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

9

Self Portraits
Anonymous
New Mexico

"WIPE THAT LOOK OFF YOUR FACE!"
I heard that many, many times. What look? I didn't know what I was doing wrong, didn't understand why my face
a?1{J(!~c! t~e1'J'l!_W I'd look down at my feet, try to hide, look blank, look beyond, around, away.

10

Number 1

In Search of Healing

But then l'dforget.
SLAP!

"Don't give me
that
look!"

Miat look?
Maybe the look
on these faces, of my inner kids,
hurting and
wanting

to know
why.

In Search of Healing

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11

Why are you hurting me?
Why do you sell me out?
12

Why do you dress me up, like a dol4 disguise me in wigs, makeup, costumes?

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Why do you torture, terrorize me into silence?
Why do you do horrible, horrible things at night?
Why is this happening?
Why?

Is that the look that they hated so?
I used to be ashamed that I couldn't really hide my feelings, no matter how I tried.
It still showed.
I don't want to be ashamed anymore. Ever again.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

13

Teresa Smith

Dorian Bloom

Kentucky

New Mexico

Look into the mirror
Ofmypast
Broken glass
Distorting life
A little girl
An empty canvas
Smeared with black paint
By a monster who wears glasses
And a tie
Into a portrait of the pain
That I am
Forever
The preacher says forgiveness
Is everything
But how can I forget
The bitterness
The nightmare
That's tattooed in my brain
I can't live up
To what you expect
But someday
I could be
A reflection of your heart.

Shadow Play
Shadows
steal into deadbolted chain-locked
rooms guarded by
watchers who look
the other way
Shadow Play
throws silhouetted fear
walls of my gingerbread
house built
of
story-time with Daddy

Age3
Mommy was there
ever an upper room
with pretty yellow wallpaper and .
a slanted ceiling where me and brother played Raggedy
Ann and Andy for hours and hours when we
didn't know where we were
and I wondered when you'd come for us
Mommy was there
ever a man in dark brown pajamas who
stood in the doorway of a strange
room where I was sleeping and
handed me my Raggedy
which had fallen on the floor
Mommy was there
ever really a Raggedy Ann
and did I really not mind it that
she kept smiling even with
the semen in her hair and
the nickels on my pillow

14

Number 1

In Search of Healing

The Innocent
Storytellers and Poets
have told us
the Unicorn comes

daddy daddy
and virgin voices
are smothered
in obeisance
and terror
of
losing daddy

to the innocent
in dreams and fairy tales
the Unicorn appears
from far off worlds
and magical dimensions
to baptize the purity
of the innocent
storybook virginal
princess waiting
for her fairy tale
stolen held hostage ransomed always
in the nick of time
the Unicorn comes
with uncompromised surety
bows majestic at her feet
to sanctify the purity
she is innocent
and her charming prince in shining armor
is assured the glass-slippered
snow-white sleeping beauty
is worthy
is innocent
permitted to live
Happily Ever After
But I know that
Happily Ever After
is a crock of shit
I found out Once
Upon A Time that
Happily Ever Afters
do not come to those
who cannot claim a
beginning and Once Upon A
Time is mired in
bed-time nightmare
where the Unicom never appears
to little princesses
in semen-stained panties smelling
of daddy

In Search of Healing

daddy daddy
but Christ I need
to believe in the Unicorn
that comes to virgins and children
even if I was never either
If I can believe
in the Unicom I can believe
in innocence
and the magic
of being unafraid

and maybe if I
wish real hard
I can find the place
inside me
that is
innocent
and maybe just maybe
I can whisper from the silence
that I believe the Unicorn will come
and I will see the gentle eyes
and sure-footed strength
of unabashed purity
and I will dare to call it
innocence
and I will know
those eyes are mine

Number 1

15

Yasmin Spencer
New Mexico
Througlwut my fourteen years of life I have been
abused immensely. I hope my poetry can be
appreciated and understood.
I don't mind my name or age being put on any of
my poems. I would like it if I were to receive any
response orfeedback for my work. This took me a lot of
courage.

CAN YOU SEE ME
WITHOUT THIS MASK I PORTRAY
THAT LAYS SO THICK THAT WHEN
YOU THINK YOU'VE FOUND ME
YOU'VE MERELY FOUND ANOTHER MASK
THERE'S NOTHING MUCH TO SAY
CAN YOU FEEL ME
WHEN YOU LIE IN BED AT NIGHT
FEEL MY EYES UPON YOUR BRUISED BODY
AND KNOW THE TRUE YOU
WILL YOU KILL ME WHEN YOU KNOW ME
OR WILL YOU SCREAM IN HAPPINESS
EITHER IS ALRIGHT WITH ME
I AM SUCHA MESS

IT'S COLD IN THIS DARK ROOM
BUT NOT AS COLD AS YOU
I'M TRAPPED IN THIS DARK ROOM
ALL I CAN SEE IS YOU
I DIED IN THIS DARK ROOM
WHEN YOU RIPPED MY HEART IN TWO
I WAS RAPED IN THIS DARK ROOM
I WAS RAPED BY YOU
YOU WILL DIE IN THIS DARK ROOM
I WILL KILL YOU

AS I SCREAM I CLUTCH TO MY VALUES
WHICH WERE TORN FROM ME
AS WELL AS MY CLOTHES
HOW COULD ONE THING TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME
HOW CAN THIS SELFISH RAPIST DO THIS TO ME
ALL MY DIGNITY TORN AWAY
HOW COULD YOU CUT MY BREASTS
AND MAKE ME FEEL LIKE NOTHING
HOW DARE YOU SAY I'M WORTHLESS
FOR YOU ARE LESS THAN ME
HOW DARE YOU KILL MY SOUL
THAT USED TO SING SO FREE
I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU HAVE DONE
I HOPE YOU LIVE IN PAIN
I HOPE YOU DIE AN AWFUL DEATH
AND LIVE YOUR LIFE IN SHAME

WILL YOU CRY WHILE IN MY ARMS
OR WILL YOU LAUGH INVAIN
FOR NEITHER WOULD YOU FEEL ALONE
AND THERE WOULD BE NO SHAME

THOUGH I'M NOT DEAD, I AM DEAD SHE SAID
FOR THERE WAS NOTHING TO SAVE HER NOW
TRAPPED IN A WHOLE MADE OF HER
HOW SHE LONGS TO BE SOMETHING MORE
TRAPPED FULL OF HERSELF AND NOTHING ELSE
HOW SHE LONGS TO BE WITH SOMEONE ELSE
REALlZING T~T WHAT SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS
SHE IS NOT
SHE SIGHED AND SAID, I AM SO ALONE
WITHOUT MYSELF

16

YOU GAVE ME MY EYES
MY EYES OF ICE
YOU GAVE ME MY CLAIM
MY CLAIM IS INSANE
YOU GAVE ME MY NAME
MY NAME IS SHAME
YOU GAVE ME MY FEAR
TO SEE YOUR FACE
YOU GAVE ME THE TERROR
OF THAT HELPLESS EMBRACE
BUT ALL YOU GOT WAS ME

Number 1

In Search of Healing

TELL ME WHAT I AM TO SAY
TELL ME HOW I AM TO FEEL
WHEN NOTHING EVER IS FOR ME
TELL ME WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO BE
TELL ME WHAT SHOULD SHELTER ME
WHEN THERE'S NO ONE HERE FOR ME
TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE IN ME
TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW OF ME
THERE ISN'T ALL THAT MUCH OF ME

TIRED

1

I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN HATE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN FEAR
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN PAIN
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN SHAME
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING IN BLAME
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING A LIE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF BEING ALIVE
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT RESPECT
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT FAITH
I'M TIRED
TIRED OF LIVING WITHOUT

TO HEAR THE WHISPER OF THE WIND
AND FEEL THE SOFT BREEZE
ALL MAKES ME FALL IN LOVE
WITH ALL I HAVE IN ME

In Search of Healing

Celeste Torra
Massachusetts

Grandfather's Hands
-for Anne
a friend spoke of a grandfather
when she of missing baby teeth and
long pony tails sat on the lap of this man
this father of her father she studied
his hands
tiny soft fingers traced
the thick purpley-blue veins in
his hands of strength
the keepers of story
twin gods that protected her
and tickling brought laughter to
her eyes
when later she ( of braces
and responsibility)
learned with tears
and leaden heart that
the grandfather died
she was content with
the remembered love of
his hands
another she also had a grandfather
when she of missing baby teeth and
long pony tails sat on the lap of this man
this father of her father she studied
his hands
tiny fingers learned to trust
his hands of strength
twin gods that betrayed then hurt
and brought no laughter
callous gods of anger
which made secrets to be kept in
her eyes
when later she ( of braces
and responsibility)
learned with tears
and sorrowful heart that
the grandfather died
she regretted she did not have
the memory of love of
his hands

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17

After Ufe

Good Morning

lor my grandlather

wake up, girl
and pull out your pony tails - put on a pair of pants under
that dress and make the belt extra tight Don't look at the
ceiling when he's on top of you
(heavyanddroolingspitoutthesideofhismouth) stare right
into his dead lights and show him you're stronger (maybe
it'll scare him) Stand stronger still when he takes you to the
woods - kick him in the balls and smack the star-shaped
wallet to the ground when he offers you quarters as ransom
for you soiled childhood KICK and HIT and SCREAM LIKE
HELL when he puts his hot tongue in your small ears and
when he sneaks it between your legs box his sorry ears with
your knees Don't surrender to his age and size Spit and tell
him you don't blame grandma for not letting him
touch
her
anymore
when they dress you for your birthday OON'T be their little
lady (pinkandlaceyitchingallday) Storrip your feet and kick
their shins and insist on BLACK Scream all the way
( overtheriverandthroughthewoods) to Grandfather's house
and tell them when they ask "why"
that
he's
going
to
FUCK
you
tell them with no tears and quivering lip that he's going to
reach up your pretty little skirts and inside your lace
panties (aren 'ttheyjustadorable?)
and pull of his brown slacks
and he's going to fuck you in the very next room just
like he has been since before you could walk
or curtsey
or dance like a proper ballerina-child
or tattle
YELL and SCREAM and pull out their hair and be really
fucking angry that they were too blind to see him FUCKING
their daughter (intheverynextroom)
so for now quit crying and get mad because you served
more and tears will get you nowhere Remember that pain
and save it for a rainy day
when you can call them all on killing you.

18

Yesterday I hated you,
wanting fire to consume you and pain to control you.
Your hands tore my childhood from me,
your lips kissed away carefree innocence.
The secrets you had planted in my heart
tore in thorns and blood at my soul,
and I was expected to love you.
Today you were lain before me,
and I struggled to understand you.
Your prickly cheeks were sunken in,
your eyes were dead and
your heavy shoes thrown into a Salvation army bin.
Under my scrutiny you were still your lips quiet and unthreatening,
your calloused hands drained of their former power.
Free from your fettering command I see you
and finally you live to me.
I hear your mourning song of desperate dissonance.
I see your dreams covered in dust and sprinkled with
burning sorrow.
I feel your thirst for time and contentment,
and I'm no longer expected to love you.
*

*

*

So now my heart is torn
between wanting to love you and not having to.
I have no fear of your hurtful hands
or your pitiful eyes.
If I can understand you,
why do I still fear you late at night or when I see Grandma struggling to be done with you?
I can't escape you I visit your house, I carry your wallet.
My father is your son,
complete with the scars you gave him.
Your smile, your chin, your hairline
stare at me in unison from my mirror.
I can't forget you, or the pain you included us in.
I lost my chance to hate you to scream in your saddened face and
tear out your thinned hair.
You left me alone to figure you out I want to love you.
I want to feel that you loved me.
I want to be able to forgive you.
I want to feel that I'm whole.
And I want to take back what you took away.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Vickilpn
California

\

In Search of Healing

Number 1

19

...
\ ;. .

.

.·.· ,#

_,. .·

My Bed
20

Number 1

In Search of Healing

C.U. Lley
United Kingdom
These poems are but afew of many,
which have accumul,at;ed over the years.
/shan't bore you with exp!,anations
of whys and whens.

Box at Christmas
Cold, grey and wet
A birthday dress
Just for you to see
Just two of the memories
I cannot forget
Of a past full of
You and me

GOD made man
Followed closely by woman
Then got bored
So He made me.

Cattle market trips
And five a.m. calls
With me, day after day.
The smell of your lips
And _my back against walls
How I wish they would go away

Sick of His perfections,
Vent His frustrations.
What a result.

But I know you're still out there
Living and free
I wonder
If I told you
What you had done
Would you care?
And tell me
What was done
With that large part of me?

Poured rage from above,
Insults galore,
Despised all around,
So the outer
Is hardened
Penetrate THAT if you will.
Truth is, you did.

You don't build sandcastles in the snow
Yet I tried.

You've scaled the perimeter wall
The barbed wire all torn down
My defences destroyed
I'm afraid
What now?

It took time
For the sun to come out
But it shined.

To take power
Or
Live with the occupant
Will you obliterate
What little is left?
Or allow it to breathe.

My sandcastle
It melted
I found a little beach now
Not much
Many stones
The foundations are started
Soon the tide will turn
Will it reach this far?

The barbed wire wasn't there
To keep you out
- But me in.

In Search of Healing

Maybe this time I'll get to finish.

Number 1

21

I don't want your sweet words
even if they were offered.
What use?
Not that it mattered
they, alone, can't help now.

My breath is frozen
on the windowpane.
Winter is here, again.
Sorrow and tears are cold,
the fire spits along with the cat,
the sun is going.
Funny really, I should have seen it coming.

To want a revenge
would be an obvious attack,
one you expect
but that's the little you know of me.
Just to tell ofmy life
and what it means
and show you small people
would do.
What are you hiding from?

My head is wandering again.
No. Not to worry,
not from you
or indeed away,
just wandering.
I sit, stand
but it's up and gone.

My way hurts no one.

From as small as I recall
it's done this.
It paces to and fro,
enters lands, unseen
and untrave~ed;
yearns,
to see and do
so, so much more.

A million avenues, roads and dead ends
To collate
Ten thousand two hundred and fifty days
A collection of
People and words
Though mostly backs and glares
Ran abroad
Just sham
Few cares
Taken for a ride
Almost won
You've brought it around
A new file begun
How will it close?
Open, shut, gone
Or continues on and on.

Mundane tasks of life
to be completed,
mechanically,
consumes much of real time.
Ifit must be
then at least my thoughts may be my own.

What possessed people
to build on a ball
that turns upside down every day?
To live on a planet
that's only half lit
and made from water and clay.
What possessed people
to make war
and destroy.
Don't they know a better way?

22

Number 1

In Search of Healing

For you,
I'll be a wife. The one I believe,
you'd want me to be.

I've seen the clowns right up close
Kids on an elephant
And laughed

For kids,
I'll be a mum. As I see it,
the one they need.

I've seen Stonehenge on a beach
Avebury stones, Silbury hill
And laughed

For them,
I'm the daughter,
they'd rather not see.

I've seen the sea
And driven a car
Face painted animals
And laughed

Then if there's time,
and a bit left over,
I'll be me.

Who am I?
and what for?
I ask, again and again.
Who has the key?
to unlock each mind.
Here stands, today
so proud and erect,
leaning heavily
on the problems of yesterday.
Holding back
the impending doom of tomorrow.

I've teed off with apples
And rode my own bike
Seen gliders galore
And laughed
I've seen an airport and planes
With bellies so huge
And Harrods and London
And laughed
I

In three months I've seen a lifetime
It will last me for mine
And laughed enough for us all
An open door that was shut for
How long?
I laughed in my heart so loud the whole wodd should have heard

Surely body and mind
age in pace,
yet years have passed,
gone so fast,
the 'phone had a voice
yet no one spoke.
If it's all so easy
why cry?
The parcels were labelled.
One fell off.

The small, narrow man
with the large smiles
grins senselessly.
At a flower.
Unaware,
the flower buds,
blossoms,
blooms,
then dies.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

23

Cynthia Diamond
New Mexico
/first ''rememhered" my sexual abuse ahout 3 years ago. I ccmtinue to have memories th.at bring me closer to
validating my abuse. /feel th.at I have been steadily healing from the wounds caused by my molestatum, but I am by no
means through with the process.
Writing plays a very important part in my healing and growth. It enahles me to look back and see how far I have
come. It also helps me validate the ahuse and its effects because I have trouble believing th.at it happened. I tend to
minimi,ze the incest. When I see the words on paper and feel intensely ahout what I read, I can qffe,rm my experience.
I want to deny the fact th.at I was sexually molested because I have so much shame ahout it. A big part ofme
"knows" it must have been my faul4 th.at I asked for it. My shame makes it very difficult for me to acknowledge that I am
a sexual being, th.at I have sexual feelings, th.at sexuality is a normal part of being huma~t to mention the terror
and shame I feel ahout having a sexual relationship with another person!
Not being ahle to claim my sexuality also means th.at I have difficulty with intimacy. I struggle with wanting to feel
whole, wanting to claim all ofme, but not wanting to acknowledge th.at sexuality is even part of life. Yet even here I see
progress.
I am always amazed when the mament comes when I notice that I have ceased to struggle, or am ahle to make a
conscious decision to let go of something that has been painful and terrifying for as long as I can remember. Then I
know that all my years in therapy, the 5 weeks I spent in treatment last year because of my severe depression, and all
the hours of writing, drawing, walking for miles, talking to supportive friends have paid off
I wrote ''Full Moon Torment" and ''Refuge" in the first year I was remembering my incest. ''Memories" and ''Witch
Mother" were written in the past six months. I have been struggling with an eating disorder and with intense anger
toward my motherfor not caring for or protecting me. I wrote ''I'm Budding" recently with two friends ofmine. The
title was takenfrom my response to an im;:uiryjrom my poetjriend as to how I amfeeling ahout my process, my life at
this moment. I wanted to include it as an affirmation th.at I am finally feeling hopeful ahout life even though growth is
painful, after years offeeling intense despair, hopelessness ahout life and wishing daily to die.

Memories
Remember the apartment in Las Cruces
when she turned on the kitchen light
and the cockroaches were thick
as the winter coat on a collie?
She couldn't even see the dirty linoleum.
You called the Orkin Man and the next day
he sprayed the whole house
but when the cockroaches were gone
she could see the dirty linoleum.
You made her promise she would never
let the floor get so filthy again
both of you spent all weekend
on hands and knees
scrubbing until your eyes burned and your fingers ached
from the cleansing of the floor.
That linoleum hadn't looked so blue
since the day it was installed
years of grime, grease,

24

layer upon layer
like rings on a tree trunk
giving away its age
or like the unshed tears in her soul
layer upon layer,
a numbness learned in childhood.
You made her promise she would never
let her soul get so numb again
both of you spent all weekend
on your hands and knees
crying until your eyes burned and your fingers ached
from the cleansing of her soul.
Her eyes hadn't looked so blue
since the day she was born,
her soul scrubbed clean
like the floor,
after all those years of being walked on.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Full Moon Torment
Awake, it's three a.m.
Weary yet I sense the persistent
pulsing of lunar tension a tidal surge.
Conception.
Gestation of thought, action, feeling
tugs at head and heart and hands.
Between the worlds,
now consciousness slips beneath my sheets
and lays cold hands on my trembling breast.
I have been dreaming.
SEX
A shameful issue as far back as memory recalls.
Baskets of elusive, lackadaisical serpents
cunningly announce their presence
curling scaly covered vertebra through recesses marrow deep.
SEXUALITY
Not romantic, proud, deserving.
Not morning glory soft desire.
Not shameless seduction - Pleasure Palace Queen,
lascivious fulfillment life's sole objective.
Instead, a subtle endured harassment
enmeshed, interwoven;
snakes are not contained by basket boundaries.
Invade.
Provoke.
My own desires illusory from the start,
my body's natural appetites are fugitives
daring not to show their faces
for fear of capture or of blame.
Shame of my existence.
SEX
Most often performed at HIS command;
enacted out of duty,
the only valid pose in which to satisfy my need for touch.
SEX
A moment of acceptance, my accolade.
SEX
Insistent. Extracted by his sheer persistence
like impacted teeth
tom from bound-up roots.
Or a mechanical obsession with a singular mission:
"I want a baby."
Years of hoping, timing, fucking.
Desireless other than of conception.
There was less shame in that,
a feat with loftier ambitions.
SEX

HE: "I want you"
HE: "Show me that you love me"
HE: "You owe me"
HE: "My manhood is at stake"
Serpentine threats.
Active in the cool night shade.
Demanding. Cold.
Determined to invade my warmth.
I feared intrusion as a child,
checking potties before alighting,
anxious that haughty reptilian heads
would violate the integrity of my sacred spaces.
And again I'm haunted on this full moon eve
by ghosts in snake-like garb.
My stomach knots are decades taught,
the shame binds like tar to rigging,
impervious to corroding brutal elements.
Vermin.
In tonight's dream they are insistent as a husband.
Forcing me to open reluctant eyes,
unlock those rusty closet doors.
Compelling me to peel off sticky tar
exposing shameful memories,
the salty spray corrodes outdated shrouds
and penetrates the ancient wounds.

HARASSMENT

In Search of Healing

Number 1

25

Witch Mother, Bitch Mother
Demonic goddess devoured me
while still inside her womb;
Witch Mother, stupid fucking Bitch Mother.
Betrayed by life, herself,
she sucked away my breath for her survival.
Too weak. Ignorant and fearful.
Or perhaps betrothed to her perfectionistic ways
my human imperfections were too much for her to bear. •
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
striving for control, out of stark terror
devoured me.
Am I a soul in search of body?
Ice cream binges
Sacred rituals performed to invoke the loving Mother
bring forth instead the witch.
Betrayal is her only game.
Possessed by Sweet creamy stuff
I long to know her love; secure protection.
Alas, betrayed once more
the empty box reflects the hollow in my soul.
I tried in vain to exorcise the witch.
What hindered completion of the gagging act?
I wanted that Bitch poison out.
"Get out of me, I'll die" I screamed.
The lie of the loving mother,
the sacred ritual pretending to be guided by Eros,
my starving spirit is fooled by the false promise of satiation
only to be annihilated by the witch's creamy brew.
Poison.
The lethal binge.
The more I eat, the hungrier I become
. . . . . eating my heart out.
Mechanical, driven by the darkness,
A demon.
Beyond my control.
For the hundredth time I slip the ice cream past myself,
Devour it in isolation.
The initial calm,
then ecstasy, turns sour
curdles in my gut.
Demonic.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
masquerading as my savior.
Spoonful after spoonful I swallow down my panic,
possessed by need for you,
I cannot turn to see
the witch you really are
that is now a part of me.
Fundamental rejection:
Nothingness is always nothingness.

26

Abandonment.
Witch mother
her devouring ways were meant to nourish me;
the promise of her loving presence
was never to be had.
Binges.
Magnetic.
The ice cream draws me ever nearer.
I am hurled headlong into unconsciousness.
The wolf prowls. The emptiness gnaws.
The sacred ritual is once again enacted.
Quickly, surreptitiously, the forbidden stuff is sucked down
just as the witch mother sucked me down
to fill her empty soul.
I become the very thing I despise.
Tomorrow I will say NO to the witch.
I must FAST.
I will not
I can not ingest her poison again.
I would sooner starve than die that way.
Discipline and control forcing my filthy body
towards the light
the purity of nonexistence. ·
The binge is now the fast,
the lighter my body is
the higher I will fly.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
to you I was only a thing.
The FAST.
One bite of any food
brings certain death.
Indifference.
The rites of full and empty.
As long as I am an object I can choose
whether to enter life or not.
I am in control.
To eat is to enter into matter,
possibly against my will
certain abdication of control.
God did not degrade Herself by bec;oming flesh;
She was not born,
She did not die,
She never lived on Earth.
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother.
Dare I incarnate?
Dare I allow my spirit into this matter called my body?
Dare I replace my desire for crucifixion
with a passion for life?
Witch mother, stupid fucking bitch mother
Dare I go against your selfish demonic wish

Number 1

In Search of Healing

and become myself?
Dare I discover the deep, rich love of being alive?
I am at a crossroad.
The safety and familiarity of
unconscious destruction
draws me back as surely
as surrender to my Selfand lifebeckons through the darkness.
The journey seems a nightmare
I have seen the shadows lurking.
Dare I trust that which is most untrustworthy
and feels like certain demise?
To find the stillness at the center of the whirlp90l
And know that life is born through death
is such a contradiction.
Can I endure the mysteries of transformation
where contradiction becomes the paradox?
Destruction and release
the spiral is the dance,
the being is always the becoming.
Can I surrender and allow my life to happen?
Unbound by tense control.
Can I trust that still point at the center
while tossed about inside this birth canal?
Finding the paradoxical comfort
of the unknowable and inconsistent
is trusting, knowing my connection to the goddess.

I'm Budding
C
M
S
C
M
S
C
M
S
C
M
S

I am budding from a closed green stern
struggle is flooding my molecules
saying goodbye to my wall is forever,
the essence, acrid yet sweet.
It's after midnight and I'm climbing for the moon,
I'm stepping on leaves of madness and ecstasy
my heart screams like raven in flight.
Goodbye to my mother, goodbye to boxes of green plums.
Has anyone wondered who I am?
My tongue, a chrysalis at birth,
a green flag of a moth whirring out like a question mark
I mingle, I envy, I hurt, I twinge outside the green stern.

Cynthia, Mary, Steve

Refuge
Anger is my refuge now. Years of numbness, oblivious to my SELF, I lived a life defined by patriarchal base brutality. Early on I
donned a mask, a smiling, pleasiM, little girl facade to hide the fear and shame that grew inside. Anger - an alien housemate
who moved in after numbness was awakened and packed her bags to leave. The unconscious path I trod - I could not bear to
feel the pain - until I courageously changed my course and fled the gruesome scene, was free at last. Then the truth of violation
was almost too much to bear, it was so clear. The pain of self denial and self hatred erupts in wrath and ardent self protection
now. I learn each moment that I can not afford to subject myself to one more hideous encounter with the undeserved abuse. My
anger keeps me alive - a vigilante for my soul, saving me from violation that for a lifetime I believed was my inheritance. No
more!! Guerilla warfare, a grassroots activism fed by rage, a healthy sign, this fight for life. Last autumn I wished for cancer,
wintertime I prayed for deadly accidents, this spring - drowning. Anything to end the pain. Now it's summer and I'm crusading
for my SELF, my own reality. I'm through living out my father's shameful lies, my mother's unsparing betrayal, my partners'
brutal words and deeds: they almost t_ook my life. Now when fear and shame take hold and coil their moist familiar tentacles
around my gut, I remember my precious child and fierce protection takes the helm. Protection long denied, never experienced
in parental care, must be taken on by me . . .. I scream out my rage and hold that child to my breast.
So, for this all consuming point in time anger is my refuge, until I have reclaimed my beloved child, my glory, my life. Then
perhaps forgiveness and compassion will find a place to grow in ground made fertile by my rage.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

27

Patty Stinson
California

The Silence
28

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Sheryl Blasnik
New Jersey
I am an ''Adult Survivar" ofIncest. This writing depicts my merrwries and feelings. I wou/,d like the opportunity to
share my feelings with others who have had similar experiences.
At this point I have read about 20 self-help books, and after awhile all the facts begin to sound alike. Not t,o negate
anyone's pain, but I wou/,d like to share my facts through rhyme.

Invisible Stranger

Once

In a large room that taunts and mocks stir the transparent and
vaporous souls of ancient strangers, souls masked by a dismal
sheen of smoke hanging heavily in the air like an aqueous
cloud resting on a mountain road in a mist-shrouded rain . ..

Staring at the flickertng flames aglow
An irtdescent dancing stirs my mind
Deeply consumed in labyrinths of thought
Searching for the me I cannot find

Myriad shadows surround and encompass but never touch;
hollow echoes resonate from thick paneled walls but are never
heard; light l>E:comes the insidious trespasser unable to reach
the opaque silhouette at the other side of the labyrinth ...

Once my mother's blight-eyed baby girl
Her eyes shimmered a majestic reflection
I took my first step, spoke my first word
Each achievement an enchanting perfection

Cold tombstones flaunt no markings of the apparition impaled
in a dark and bleak abyss; the mirror devoid of reflection
seems to shun the lost souls, Ancient smells of the sea linger
in the stagnant air .. .

I left her side to grow in mind and body
Separate by the light of day and night
I felt I was completely part of her
And, in her eyes, I knew I'd be alright

A venom permeates the ethereal souls lurking behind a cloak
of malignant pain. What's to become of the forgotten
strangers whose souls have been scorned and lost forever in a
legacy of affliction and deceit?

Eager I would not be seen or heard
By those who were supposed to protect
I would never stray all that far alone
Frtghtened by harm or neglect
Now the caricature of an adult
Struggling with the role I am to play
No longer defined by childhood
I ask myself, "WHO AM I ANYWAY? ? ? "

In Search of Healing

Number 1

29

Ari.en-on-the-Mountain
New Mexico

Power In The Word

I found the remembering of prescfwol rape to be a
distinctly nagging phenomenan.
I had brought patterns of defiance and depressian
into aduUfwod but could never trace my dyefunctianal
behavior to anything specific. I defended my shark's
tooth temper as the best si,gn of integrity I could come
up with . .. an intuitive awareness that I had survived
in spite of . .. what?
I didn'tfust suddenly remember. Memories crept
up an me over a period of years - just a little piece of
the past at a time, nagging me to remember.
lVhen the pieces didfinally come together, itfelt too
mystical and bright to express in mere language.
''Power in the Word" tries, however, to express one
of the dynamics offorgetting prescfwol rape: the simple
fact that there is no language available to the
preschooler - and witfwut words upan which to hang
the experience, it slips, instead, into oblivian.
"Com:num Ground" celebrates the emergence of two
women in their 50's after their two separate lifetimes of
buried rage. Each of us was di,gging up the memories of
her own prescfwol rape at the time of our meeting. It
seemed an appropriate crossing of paths, a merging of
our separate experiences, indeed, into one comman
ground.

a word
keeps coming up like a haunting

Ot's the things that are buried that haunt you)

INCEST! INCEST!
and at the same time the gray gesture
of a memory
appears in the periphery
just a quarter turn away like a haunting
they move toward each other
with magnetic attraction
(the memory and the word)
five minutes?

five years?

till they finally merge
as if they belong
to each other
as if they belong
to
me
a quarter tum to the right
and i'm eye to eye
with a shadow
that finally has a word
for
itselfa memory that's been buried
to the brow
till now
in a childhood's midnight
of pre-language
butnowit has a mouth for speech
a brain - a rage
and tears to flood
thepageaname:
INCEST!
and that's when
the haunting
ends
and that's when
the healing
begins

30

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Common Ground
(To Margaret Randall)
(With special thanks to David Budai, archeology student)

TONIGHT
IS ELECTRIC BLUE
ON BASIC BLACK
YOU'VE CUT YOUR HAIR
AND THE TURQUOISE SHARDS
I'VE SEEN YOU WEAR
SUCH COUNTLESS TIMES
HANG FROM YOUR EARS
LIKE JOURNAL ENTRIES
YOU MIGHT HAVE WRITTEN
WHEN OUR PATHS FIRST CROSSED
IN THE THUNDER OF OUR ANCIENT RAGE A BURIED HERITAGE
OF PRESCHOOL RAPE
ANDDEFIANCETHATCAME
AFTER
WE ARE UNCOMMON
IN OUR DIFFERENT WAYS VESSELS ETCHED
WITH ZIGS AND ZAGS
AND FILLED WITH THE GRIT
OF AGES
WE ARE NOT FRAGMENTS SCATTERED
IN THE ASHES OF A FRIENDLY CAMPFIRE
WE ARE THE WHOLE POTS FOUND
IN BURIAL SITES THAT SERVE
THE DEADENED CHILD WHO WAITS WITHIN
FOR VISIBILITY
CREDIBILITY
VISION
WE ARE THE TOMB
AND WE ARE THE FRAGILE CRAFT
AND WE ARE THE CHILDREN
WAKING

In Search of Healing

Number 1

31

Clafa Forest
California
It's hard to think that anyane woul,d be interested in my poems, much f,ess my history, because I have accomplished
rwthing as an adull and have always lived alane, secluded from people even at work. I have been seeing a therapist
three times a weekfor aver four years, which has often been the only thing that's kept a suicidal gesture from becoming
a succeseful, attempt.
My father was my perpetrator. He violated me incessantly until I l,eft home 13 years ago. Now I am almost 40, have
rw chil,dren, and most probably never will I am surprised I have lived this long and, sadly, still enjoy virtually rwthing.
Nevertheless, I ask that all your readers keep up the fight to heal. We must do what we can to make tomorrow easierfor
ourselves a:nd more welcoming and gentf,e for all the chil,dren to come.

1963

Before and After

I remember almost nothing about being young
Except things like President Kennedy,
And then the dark horse on the snowy black
And white screen, the tall boots
In the stirrups, and the beautiful wife
Crying and petting her kids. I laid
On the floor, close to the coffin;
No one cared that I cried for the nation
Or that I was little. That I was a girl was the thing
That mattered to the whole United States
The very least of all.

Before she was permitted to grow her hair long,
She had a fairytale, wandering mane,
Pale as a gasp, soft as the perversion
Of a priest touching children.
Before she could speak, she was the scream of a horse
Drowning in fire; she was a shrieking handful of hair
Yanked out within the blink of an eye.

I knew all about the president crying
When his wife lost the baby. I pictured my dad
Crying if I'd died like that, innocent,
Before he discovered that dark secret place,
Before he slapped me because it was evil and mine:
I kept thinking about that somewhere, warm under my dress.
The president suffocating under the ground.
I worried about the pretty horse •
Catching cold in the snow.

32

Before she left the belly of a large, tranquil mare,
She was pulp mashed by the sun, she was blood in the lung.
Something tubercular from China, a stallion from India
With skin thin as silk, criss-crossed with veins.
Before she tasted anything, she was milk dribbling
From the lips of a large man; every night she smelled her blood
Cool on his fingers and his sex arching upwards
Against the slopes of her thighs.
After she escaped his red house of torment:
She lived by a river on the silvery moon.
She lives there still, small as a thimble,
Sleeps in a flower that closes tightly each evening;
She sips nectar as if from a breast
Breathing soft love sounds and sighs.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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Long Beach, CA 90805
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Baltimore, MD 21222-6817
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Information, opinions about RA,
MPD

SumoorShip
3181 MissionN139
San Francisco, CA 94110
415-282-3897
Monthly, $30, $36/Canada
Forum on survival of ritual abuse,
torture and mind control

Monarch Resources

ART

The Clothesline Project

PO Box 727
East Dennis, MA 02641
508-385-7004
Liason for local Clothesline Projects
bearing witness to violence against
women
Urban Art Retreat

3712 N. BroadwayN700
Chicago, IL 60613
312-275-1319
Art for self expression, consciousness
raising, social change regarding
violence

lnitiati11e

PO Box 1293
Torrance, CA 90505-0293
310-373-1958
MPD/DD/RA events calendar, info
packets, audiotapes, presentations

PO Box 330632
West Hartford, CT 06133
203-875-6652
For professionals and survivors needing
to access services

SELF-INFLICTED VIOLENCE

Victims of Clergy Abuse Linkup
(VOCAL)

Survivors of Incest Anonymous, Inc.

PO Box 21817
Baltimore, MD 21222
301-282-3400
When you are ready to root-out the
problem, 12-step meetings,
publications

PO Box 1268
Wheeling, IL 60090
708-202-0242
ExTRF.ME ABUSE

PO Box899
Citrus Heights, CA 95611
916-967-0424
Conferences, workshops, speakers,
info/crisis line, support grouJJ5
GENERAL

1-800-578-1292
For a speakout in your area

RELIGIOUS

Incest Survivors Resource Network
lntemational

PO Box 7375
Las Cruces, NM 88006-73 75
505-521-4260
Quaker Witness Educational Resource
Contacts: Anne-Marie Eriksson,
Lt.Col. Erik Eriksson USAF (Ret)

The Lost and Found Ministry
Trinity Lutheran Church
715 Second Ave South
PO Box 188
Moorhead, MN 56560
218-236-1333
For the chemically dependent and their
families
RITUAL ABUSE

Cult Awareness Network (CAN)

1345 El Centro Ave.
PO Box630
Hollywood, CA 90028
213-465-4016
Treatment, prevention, research,
survivors support grouJJ5, hotline
Incest Awareness Project

6

To Tell The Truth:
America Speaks Out About Incest
and Sexual Abuse
August 1, 1993

INTEREST

Childhelp USA, Los Angeles
Childhelp Center

The Healing Woman
PO Box 3038
Moss Beach, CA 94038
Monthly $25, low income $15
Articles, stories

POBox4078
Appleton, WI 54911
Information and support for starting
12 Step program for spouses, relatives,
friends of people with dissociative
disorders

CLERGY SEXUAL ABUSE

Survivors Reaching Out

The Cutting Edge
PO Box 20819
Cleveland, OH 44120
Quarterly, Donation, professional $30
For women living with self-inflicted
violence

Justus Unlimited

DD-Anon Group One
Recovery Services and Resources

PO Box85582
Seattle, WA 98145-1582
SafeandSaund newsletter provides forum,
resources

WOMEN

PO Box 4367
Boulder, CO 80306-4367
proactive MP's/families/friends

PROSURVIVOR

8025 S. Honore
Chicago, IL 60620
312-483-1059

(SOFIE)
PO Box 2794
Renton, WA 98056-2794
Bimonthly $30
Letters, articles, stories, art

Multiple Personality Dignity/Loved
Ones Of Multiples

PO Box 952
San Jose, CA 95108
408-453- 7616

Sexual Abuse Survivors Association
(SAS)

Sumoors of Female Incest Emerge!

MULTIPLE PERSONALITY

Parents United International, Inc.

Survivors Network for People
Abused by Priests (SNAP)

SURVIVORS OF FEMALE INCEST

Men Assisting, Leading and
Educating, Inc.
PO Box 380181
Denver, CO 80238-1181

PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
303-643-8698
therapy assistance, newsletter,
clearinghouse

Canadian Council on Social
Development
POBox3505
StationC
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada KlY 401
Serves the self-help/mutual aid
community, bilingual English/French

The Cutting Edge
PO Box 20819
Cleveland, OH 44120
Quarterly, Donations, professional $30
For women living with self-inflicted
violence

M.A.L.E

Box 8122
Fargo, NM 58109-8122
Membership, group $24, individual
$12
Newsletter, public education, events

VOICES in Action (Victims Of
Incest Can Emerge Survivors)

PO Box 148309
Chicago, IL 60614
1-800-7VOICES
Resource clearinghouse, newsletter,
conferences, anthology
VT.-1.S.E.E. (Vermont-Incest
Survivors Enlightened and
Empowered)

POBox82
Milton, VT 05468-3525
Newsletter, legislation, referrals,
whimsical paraphernalia

"caveat emptor I buyer be'UXlre"

2421 W. Pratt Blvd., Suitel 173
Chicago, IL 60645
312-267-7777
Healing Hearts

1515 Webster Street
Oakland, CA 94612-3313
conferences, speakers bureau,
professional training, tapes, newsletter
JustUs Unlimited

PO Box 1121
Parker, CO 80134
303-643-8698
therapy assistance, newsletter,
clearinghouse

the green pages

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Pttf::t
Patrick Prince
5027 Larchmont Drive, North East
Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87111
505-275-8448 / 505-884-8662
OBQAlllZATIORS (oont'd)

PU-PUSS QBAPBIOS

WOMEN

Archetype
10516 Sierra Bonita NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-292-1081
Typographer

Wings Foundation
8007 w. Colfax
Lakewood, CO 80202
303-238-8660
Newsletter, support groups
Yourn
Believe The Children

PO Box 1358
Manhattan Beach, CA 90266
Advocates for child RA survivors
Citizens Against Sexual Child Abuse

PO Box 1093
Kingston, Ontario K7L4Y5 Canada
613-542-1101
Supportive housing for survivors 16-24
years old
P:ui'PALS
Writer's Secrets

Penpal adult survivor's therapy service
POBox605
Seabrook, NH 03874
$1 postage and handling
PBOTOQBAPJIJIBS

Patrick Prince Photography
5027 Larchmont Dr. NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-275-8448, 884-8662

mkc publishing
5401 Summer NE
Albuqureque, NM 87110
505-266-6617
Desktop publishing

BUR.&W.&YCBILI> (oont'd)

Elizabeth Phillippi, Reild Master
Reild School of Natural Healing

Passages

5541 Edwards Dr. NE
Albuquerque, NM 87111
505-299-3918
Gentle touch that accelerates mental,
emotional, physical healing, spiritual
growth

BJIS:a&BCBDS

Questionaire on signs, symptoms, lifelong
impact, prevention of child sexual abuse
Send long#10 SASE to
Valerie A. Scalera

1070 Sherman Ave.
South Plainfield, NJ 07080
908-754-4616
BUR.A.WAY CBILI>BJIR

by Caryn StarDancer, Illustrations by
StarDancer, Kore Loy Wildrekinde
StarDancer
PO Box 1284
Lakeport, CA 95453
$6.95 plus $2 shipping

Book Fare
5901 Wyoming NE

No hassles, no traps, no tricks. Need
shelter, food, medical help? Need to
let someone know you're still alive?
Call night or day.

Bookworks
4022 Rio Grande NW

NEWMEXICO

Double Rainbow
3416 Central SE

Amistad Crisis Shelter

PllDllTJUl8
Academy Printers

Las Cruces Runaway Shelter

880 East Idaho
Las Cruces, NM 88004
505-523-0572, 505-524-7765

..
.. .

Full Circle Books
2205 Silver SE
Hastings
Fair Plaza
Newsland
2112 Central SE
Page One
11018 Montgomery NE
Salt of the Earth Books
2128 Central SE
Serenity Shop
3401 San Mateo NE

2328 West Joppa Road
Suite 15
Lutherville, Maryland 21093
410-825-8888, fax 410-337-0747
Books, tapes, especially on MPD

Sisters' and Brothers'
Bookstore
4011 Silver SE

Survivor Publisher

The Word Farm
4104 Silver SE

PO Box829
Seabrook, NH 03874
508-463-3186
Audio, video tapes on recovery from
sexual and substance abuse

Tell our advertisers you saw their
ads in the green pages.
the green pages

Lookfor
In Search of Healing
at these
NewMexico
Locations:

Runaway Hotline
l,800,231-6946 nationwide

The Sidran Foundation

of

TEXAS

Runaway Hotline
l-800-392-3352

ALBUQUERQUE

2929 Barcelona SW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-877-03 71
Shelter, crisis intervention,
counseling, educational assistance

4740 Pan American Frwy NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-884-173 7, 800-675-173 7 (NM),
800-858-5389 (USA),
505-884-4 734 (fax)
4-color Heidelberg Press
Call R06ie and Therri for expert
printing

215 57thNW
Albuquerque, NM 87105
505-836-1040
Temporary shelter, counseling
aftercare

NATIONWIDE

PUBLISJmllS

POB'l'llY
Returning to Herself: Poems
Restoration

Arnold Litho
5908 Lomas NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-266-43 71
We make art "camera ready"
Survivor-friendly

BmKI

"caveat emptor I buyer beware"

RIO RANCHO

Hastings
Hilltop Plaza
SANTA FE

Hastings
2414 Cerrillos Rd

7

Directory of Survivor/ P.rosurvivor B.esources
OpenWay Safety Alliance (OSA)
325 Wayne Rd NW
Albuquerque, NM 87114
505-898-9221
End the cycle of violence with
nonaggresslve response training

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Sm.J'-JmLP

8:m.J'-JmLP (oont'd)

TJDIBAPISTS (oont'd)

Incest Resources
46 Pleasant St.
Cambridge, MA 02139
Publishes Starting From Scratch: The

The Canadian Council on Social
Develpment
55 Parkdale Ave.
PO Box3505
StationC
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada KlY 401
Publishes Initiative, French/English
newsletter about self-help groups

Elsa LaFlamrne, PhD, A TR
1605 Carlisle NE, Suite A3
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-255-4331
Dissociative Disorders

Incest Resources Group Mode~
guidebook for starting self-help groups

SPDUTUAI- BWAl,BBS

ELSA LAFLAMME PH.D.,

A.T.R.

1605 Carlisle NE, Suite A-3
Albuquerque, New Mexico 8711 0
(505) 255-4331
• Archetypal Visualization, Sandplay
• Self-Recovery, Relationship Issues
• Life Transitions, Life Mission

Eve Loren Wedeen M.A., A.T.R .
Registered Arr Therapist
Individual, Family and Group Counseling
5000 Marble

NE

Suite 305

115C West Santa Fe Ave.
Santa Fe, NM 87501
505-989-8937
Learn to release the incest bond from
another survivor. Insurance

8UBMl8810118
Anthology of letters to perpetrators,
mailed/unmailed. Send SASE and
submission by 9/30/93 to
Julie Mines
PO Box 38-2024
Cambridge, MA 02238
Anthology of women survivors of
pornography: writing, art, interviews.
Anonymity respected.
Deadline
December, 1993. Send to
Ann Russo
Women Survive
PO Box 771
Kendall Square Branch
Cambridge, MA 0214 2

Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110

sos . 262

. 0847
ART THERAPISTS

Dnise Dickey
Santa Fe, NM
505-988-7828
Art therapy, body centered therapy,
Radix (R) education

Counseling for Career Change and Personal Growth

880-1618
SHOSHONA BLANKMAN, M.A

Louise Jacobus, M.A.
National Certified Counselor
Individual and Couples Counseling
Body-centered Therapy

8

Boov/MIND INTEGRATIVE THERAPY
Mari Susan Selby
POBox8736
Santa Fe, NM 87504
505-753-5313
Working with sexual abuse survivors,
individuals, couples, families

CoUNSELORS

Shoshona Blankman, MA
Pathfinding Counseling Services
2501 San Pedro NE, Suite 204
Albuquerque, NM
505-880-1618
Career changes, personal growth
Louise Jacobus, MA
4233 Montgomery NE, Suite 230W
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-883-1799
Body-centered therapy; individual,
couples counseling
Johanna Johnson-O'Dowd
8205 Spain NE, Suite 210
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-822-9842
PTSD, MPD, couples, gay/lesbian
Nonna Leib, MA
Kachina Counseling and Guided
Imagery Center
6221 Sabre Court NW
Albuquerque, NM 87107
505-344-8010
Medical psychotherapy, guided
imagery, counseling

Ty Menefee and Mary Ellen Holman
The Recovery Center
300J Louisiana NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-884-4511, 505-243-2223 (24 hr.
ans.svc.)
Treating sexual trauma, addictions,
ACA's

2501 San Pedro, NE, suite 204

4233 Montgomery NE
Suite 230W
Albuquerque, NM 87109

Eve Loren Wedeen, MA, A TR
5000 Marble NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-262-~47
Treating primary and secondary PTSD

883-1799 Office
292-9009 24 hrs.

"caveat emptor I buyer ~ware"

Mr. Jan Middeldorf, MA,NCPsyA
13528 Terragon Dr NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-296-6508
Counselor for survivors of emotional,
sexual, physical abuse
Judy Rollstin, MA
Albuquerque, NM
505-884-2568
Individual, group therapy for adult
survivors

the green pages

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

THE RECOVERY CENTER
for the treatment of:
ROSIE ROSE, LISW

Sexual Addiction
Sexual Trauma
Adult Children of Alcoholics
Co-Dependency

Counselor

Addictions, Trauma
Grief, Self care

1YMENEFEE
MARY ET,,TEN HOLMAN
Located at 3009 Louisiana NE
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110
(505) 884-4511, 24 Hr. Ans. Svc., 243-2223
An Affiliate of the Counseling & Psychology Institute

Jan A Middcldorf NCPsyA

505 296 6508

Helene M Stilman NCPsyA 505 296 5861

Rose and Associates

265-0503

I Place your ad in the green pages I

Board Certified Psychoanalysts

In depth healing from the traumas of
emotional, sexual and h sical abuse

Now Forming:

Therapy Groups

c:fVo'tma _£db .:::;11/(.c,1.
cMt:dicafg:> j,ychotht: rnpy

for

Adult Survivors of
Sexual Abuse

§uidt:d[/ma91::'ty-C ounj,t:lin9
!J(achina Coun1eUn9
6221~afmCt. dVW
c4fCu9unque, c:NcM 87107

(505) 344-8010

For more information call:
Ongoing sexual trauma recovery group
now accepting new members. The group
provides a safe place to process how
past abuse impacts our present day
lives. A three month commitment is
needed. Sliding scale available.
For information please contact

Johanna or Cindi
Counseling Network Associates
505-822-9842
the green pages

Judy Rollstin, MA - Counselor
A Caring Place

884-2568
Individual Counseling also available

"caveat emptor I buyer beu,are"

9

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources
Ask your favorite bookstore to stock

In Search of Healing.
Booksellers call 505-880-8683 to order.
..

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

COUllJSBLOBS (oon'td)

COUNSELORS, CHRISTIAN

Cindi Rose, MSSW, LISW
Counseling Network Associates

Carole J. Myers, LMSW, NCC

8205 Spain NE, Suite 210
Albuquerque, NM 8710')
505-822-9842
Sexual trauma recovery group, sliding
scale

4263 Montgomery NE, Suite 110
Albuquerque, NM 8710')
505-883-63 77
Recovery from childhood sexual
trauma

S ••\I •

,,.f;ft;••'
...

SOARING EAGLE
INSTITUTE
P.O.

U,

Box 1175

Jf
~t

'4t.

Survivor & Therapy Groups
Individual & Couple Groups
Organizational Consulting

Tijeras, NM

"i,tst1:,.

B7059

·•1:W~i·,

Retreat Center
Challenge Course

\'.~!:'{,!:.~"
i~O~Y~-~~

x~1,xlifilt

{ 11
505 281-2590

Rosie Rose, LISW
Rose and Associates

CoUNSELORS, MENTAL HEALTH

Albuquerque, NM
505-265-0503
Addictions, trauma, grief, selfcare

Linda Smarrella, MA and
Paul Smarrella, MA
Soaring Eagle Institute
Retreat Education Center
PO Box 1175
Tijeras, NM 87059
505-281-2590
Individual, group therapy; challenge
course; organizational consulting

Linda Smarrella, M.A., Administrator
Paul Smarrella, M.A., Facilitator

Debra Sugar, CAC, NTS
Albuquerque, NM
505-884-0815
Nurturing and Enhancing Personal
Recovery, body centered therapy

KinTree Whitecloud, MA
505-888-3 783
Albuquerque, NM
Body-mind-spirit focus on sexual
trauma, lesbian/gay concerns,
dreamwork

Jan Hollingsworth, MA
9412 Indian School Rd NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-275-2584
Promoting growth, healing, creativity
in women; free initial consultation;
sliding scale, insurance, medicare

CoUNSEI.ORS, ExPERIENTIAL

Cheryl Parkin, RN, MA
11805 Menaul NE
Albuquerque, NM 87112
505-293-5146
Specializing in sexual trauma and
family therapy

COUNSELORS, MARRIAGE AND FAMILY

Judy Borich, MS
925 Sixth NW, Suite 10
Albuquerque, NM 87102
505-242-1011
Working to clear out the pain of the
past

Place your ad in the green pages
~

KinTree Whitecloud, M.A.
Individual, Couple & Group Cowiseling

~ ~ Jt.d.

888-3783

Mental Health Counselor

A body-mind-spirit focus. Specializing in
sexual abuse/incest healing, lesbian/gay
concerns & dreamwork.

Individual, Couples, and Family
Counseling

275-2584
9412 Indian School Rd. N.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87112

Sliding scale. Some insurance accepted.

Family Recovery

883-6377

Experiential Therapies
Cheryl Parkin, RN, MA
Program Director

4263 Montgomery, NE
SuitellO
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87109

Office
11805 Menaul N.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87112

(505) 293-5146

"caveat emptor I buyer beivare"

Addictive Disorders
Family Dysfunction

the green pages

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Resources
Ask your favorite bookstore to stock

In Search of Healing.

(505) 242-1011

Booksellers call 505,880,8683 to.order.

Judy G. Borich, M.S.

Laura Bank-Forest, AC.S.W.

Marriage & Family Therapist

Licensed Oinical Social Worker

925 6th N.W., Suite 10

(505) 984-0683

Albuquerque, NM 87102

(..

•

• •
• •

Psychotherapy
For
• adults
• children & adolescents
• consultation & supeNlsion

Southwestern Institute for Psychodrama
Individual, Couples, Family & Group Therapy
insurance accepted

Cynthia Goldblatt. M.A., L.M.S.W.
Psychodynamic Therapist & Board Certified Psychodramatist

(505) 884-1156

4207 Montgomery Blvd., NE • Suite A
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87109

Lyn Jones

M.A.

Paycl.otL.crapy

PSYCHODRAMA

PSYCHOLOGISTS, CLINICAL

Cynthia Goldblatt, MA, LMSW
Southwestern Institute for
Psychodrama
4207 Montgomery NE, Suite A
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-884-1156
Psychodrama therapy for individuals,
couples, groups, family

Nancy L Black, PhD
2403 San Mateo NE, Suite S15
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-888-4 74 7
Adult, family psychotherapy; recovery
from sexual abuse
PSYCHOTHERAPISTS

Stephanie Atwood, MA

2201 San Pedro NE, Suite 222
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-883-43 73
Childhood abuse issues, dissociative
disorders

6100 Seagu1£ Lane 'J./..'E Suite 204
.91.fE,uquerque, 'J{J,{ 87109
(505) 880-1516

FIRST NATIONWIDE
SPEAKOUT ON INCEST!

Laura Bank-Forest, ACSW
SantaFe,NM
505-984-0683
Psychotherapy for adults, children,
adolescents; insurance

August 1, 1993
800-S78-1292

Juliet Calabi, MA

STEFANI ATWOOD, M.A.
PROFESSIONAL THERAPIST
PRIVATE PRACTICE BY APPOINTMENT ONLY
2201 SAN PEDRO NE
BUILDING 2 SUITE 222
ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87110

(505) 883-4373

the green pages

546 Harkle Rd., Suite C
Santa Fe, NM 87501
505-983-5568
Sensitive work through language of
body, dream, imagination

Behty Harrison, LMSW, LAc
122 Tulane SE
Albuquerque, NM 87106
505-255-4102
Psychotherapy, acupuncture
Lyn Jones, MA

6100 Seagull LN NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-880-1516

Behty Harrison LMSW, L. Ac
Psychotherapy

122 Tulane S.E.
Albuquerque, NM 87106

"caveat empror I buyer beware"

Acupuncture

(505) 255-4102

11

"Advertisements, not endorsements"
Psychotherapy For Recovery and Growth

: ,a MARCUS, M.S.
.

•.

specializing in couple 's and men 's issues
treatm ent of survivors of childhood abuse,
addiction , and mental illness

Shaun McElhannon, M.A., L.M.S. W., D.D.

4233 Montgomery Blvd. NE

(505) 881-8666

Suite 200W
2403 San Mateo Blvd. N.E. Suite SlO
Albuquerque, New Mexico 87110

Albuquerque, New Mexico 871 09
(505) 881·7282

Ann Yeager,

M.S.W.; A.C.S.W.

Licensed Inaependent Social Worker

..i.O

•· Individual and

:. ·:· · Group ·,psychotherapy

•••• -··

.,.

-·· ·-

•'..
'❖

❖

·-::

~

:.

....

-:

❖ ~ .::

••,

:--❖

··-:

-

-;· ...

❖"

.-

,•

sot~,...
v.,,

SPECIALIZING IN :
Individual
~-,.
'O
Relat1onsh1p
~
~
Famil y
~
Child and Teen
':"
;..
Divorce Adjustment
~
Women 's Issues
~
Support Groups
liE;nt.io- Hours by Appointment Self-Esteem Classes
(505) 255-3075
Workshops
1615 Carlisle NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110

~,

❖

• •'.

. . •·,::.'. Of 'SSxoaJ :Y.rau"rna
•

~

.

PSYCBOTBmlAPISTS (cont'd)

PSYCBO'.l'JDUlAPY (cont'd)

Paul Marcus, MS

Ann Yeager, MSW, ACSW

.

.,,..

4233 Montgomery NE, Suite 200W
•••lllliiillllilillllil-•lllliilllllilllll•--••••-•1111111- • • - • A1buquerque, NM87100
505-881-7282
Individual, group therapy for male
survivors

505/839-7365
2501 San Pedro NE, Ste. XJ4
Albuquerque, NM 87120

KATE LONGFEllOW, M.A.

Specializing in Treating
Adults Abused as Children

Groups offered in
HOW TO OVERCOME CHILDHOOD SOURCES
OF LOW SELF-ESTEEM

1615 Carlisle NE
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-255-3075
Finding a better way

RADIX (R)
PSYCHOTHERAPISTS, HOLISTIC

Dnise Dickey

Kara, RN, BSN, MA
5000 Marble NE, Suite 305
Albuquerque, NM
505-867-3586
Sand ttay irnaginal therapy, past life
regression, soul retrieval

SantaFe,NM
505-988-7828
Body centered therapy, Radix (R)
education, art therapy

PSYCHOTHERAPISTS, PRIMAL

Marietta Patricia Leis, MA
PODrawerD
Corrales, NM 87048
505-898-1950
Primal psychotherapy

TmAPIST8-PBOl'Jl8810111'.&L
OBGAJIIZATIOJll'S

Family Violence and Sexual Assault
Institute
1310 Clinic Drive
Tyler, TX 75701
903-595-6600, fax 903-595-6799
"helping those who help"

PsYCHOTIIERAPY

Kate Longfellow, MA

MARIETTA PATRICIA LEIS, M.A.
CERTIRED PRIMAL THERAPIST & LICENSED COUNSELOR

2501 San Pedro NE, Suite 204
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-839-7365
Treating adults abused as children

Shaun McElhannon, MA, LMSW,
DD

P.O. DRAWER D, CORRALES, NM 87048
(505) 898-1950

12

2403 San Mateo NE, Suite SlO
Albuquerque, NM 87110
505-881-8666
Specializing in adult survivors in
association with a psychiatrist

"caveat emptor I buyer beiware"

Tell our
advertisers
you saw their
ads in

the green pages.
the green pages

of Survivor/ Prosurvivor B.esources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

your
I vvork vvith that part of you
That couldn't be here
VVhen it vvasn't safe -That delicate soul part.
Is it tirne
To bring you
Horne?

ad
•

1n

this
space

Tell our advertisers you saw their ads in the green pages.
'l'llll&TIDll'l' cmllTD8
Charter Hospital

5901 Zuni SE
Albuquerque, NM 87100
800-874-2476 (NM),
505-265-8800 (outside state)
When you can't go on living with the
secret

"Please continue
the work you 're
doing. It saves
lives."
- Abby Ovitsky

M. T. LLOYD &ASSOCIATES
230 ADAMS STREET, S.E.
SUITE B
ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87108
505/266-6006

Heights Psychiatric Hospital

103 Hospital Loop NE
Albuquerque, NM 87109
505-883-8777
Survivors of Sexual Abuse, recovery
from eating disorders
M. T. Lloyd and Associates
230 Adams SE, Suite B
Albuquerque, NM 87100
505-266-6006
Community based diagnostic and
treatment center, outpatient
counseling

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ourwork
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A COMMUNITY BASED
DIAGNOSTIC AND 1REATMENT CENTER.
AN OUTPATIENT COUNSEUNC FACILITY
WHICH PROVIDES A SAFE AND
SUPPORTIVE ENVIRONMENT
FOR MEN, WOMEN, ADOLESCENTS
AND CHILDREN WHOSE LIVES
HAVE BEEN IMPACTED BY PHYSICAL,
EMOTIONAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE.

"caveat empror I buyer ~e"

13

Directory of Survivor/ Prosurvivor Besources

"Advertisements, not endorsements"

HEIGHTS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL
Heights Psychiatric Hospital offers outpatient, partial hospitalization,
and inpatient treatment for people with psychiatric or chemical dependency problems including:

♦ Intensive Outpatient Eating

Disorder Programs
♦

Survivors of Sexual Abuse

Inpatient and Day Treatment
Track

FREE Initial Consultation
24-Hour Assistance & Referral

883-8777

in New Mexico call toll free
1-800-634-9295

Fully accredited by the Joint Commission on
Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations.
Most Insurance Plans Accepted.

-

Hq!ght,
P,yctiiat,ic
Ho1pital

103 Hospital Loop NE, Albuquerque, NM 87109

Tell our advertisers you saw their ads in the green pages.

When you can't go on living with the secret.
Making the decision to get help takes a lot of courage. Charter Hospital's special
program for survivors of sexual abuse helps enable survivors to talk openly and honestly
about their experiences, helping to break the secrecy and feelings of isolation in a safe
and supportive environment. The goals of Charter's program are:
* to help the survivor develop healthy, non-destructive coping skills when thoughts
or feelings seem overwhelming;
* nurture a growth of self empowerment and self responsibility;
* to begin the survivor's recovery process by creating a stronger self;
* to provide insight into self destructive, self sabotaging thoughts and behaviors,
and offer safer, healthier ways of coping with difficult situations.

For more information, call us at 265-8800 or 1-800-874-2476 (within New
Mexico). And if you don't get help at Charter, please get help somewhere.

gj ~

CHARTER
HOSPITAL

5901 ZUNI S.E. • ALBUQUERQUE, NM 87108 • 1-800-874-2476

14

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15

TO TELL Tt--16 TRlATt--1:
Ame..-.ica Speaks OtAt AbotAt Jncest and SextAal AbtAse
StAnday, AtA9tAst 1, 1993
Sweeney Convention Cente..-.
Santa Fe,

NM

Last year, a groL\p of SL\rvivors in Santa Fe presented a free commL\niiy
event, to highlight the healing aspects of oL\r childhood experience. Over 500
people attended, and CNN prodL\ced the docL\mentary, "Breaking the Silence",
featL\ring the event. Jt has been aired several times aroL\nd the world.
This year, the 9roL\p has expanded, and is sponsoring a nationwide
speakoL\tl SL\rvivors all across .America are pL\tting together their own events,
all to coincide on SL\nday, .AL\gL\st 1st. We are joining hands across the nation,
to speak oL\r frL\th, to encoL\rage others to heal, to wake L\P oL\r commL\nities, and
to move not jL\st from victim to SL\rvivor1 bL\t from SL\rvivor to thriver That is OL\r
deserved legacy! We invite yoL\ to join L\S for an inspiring day of workshops,
speakers, discL\ssion groL\ps, entertainment and healing. Complete anonymity
will be available for those who choose it.

MORNING SESSION: 10 AM - 12 NOON
WORKSHOPS FOR SURVIVORS & PRO-SURVIVORS
•Artas a Healing Tool - led by Christine Tieman, MA, ATR
• Writing through Recovery- led by Maria Selby, MA and poetess
• Movement Expressions - led by lnnermotion, a survivor dance troupe from Florida
(There is a $20 fee for each workshop. Scholarships are available. Pre-registration is requested
by July 25th. Call 1-800-578-1292 for information.)
THE MAIN EVENT: 1 :30 PM - 5:00 PM
FREE COMMUNITY PROGRAM!
featuring speakers (women, men and teens), slide show, entertainment by Inner motion and
People in Reality, breakout discussion groups (topics: women survivors, men survivors, clergy
abuse, ritual abuse, for families and friends, community action) and guest speaker Wayne Muller,
author of The Legacy of the Heart: The Spiritual Advantages of a Painful Childhood.
EVENING CELEBRATION: 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM
a buffet dinner ($1 O in advance, $12 at the door) plus drumming, dancing and musical
entertainment. Bring your rattles and drums! (No charge after 7:00 pm)

sponsored

by Bread

for the 3ol,\rney1 a non-profit organization

TOTELL THETRUTH P.O.Box8117

SantaFe,NM 87504-8117

505-986-8944 800-578-1292

Please make checks payable to "Bread for the Journey/Truth."

r------------------------------,
r------------------------------,
WORKSHOP REGISTRATION FORM
:
DINNER TICKET ORDER FORM
:

1
I
1
I
I

1
I
1 I
Name
---------------- I 1
Address________________ I 1
: City_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ State.___ Zip_ _ _ _ : 1I
I Phone(
I I

: Please indicate your choice: □ Art □ Writing
1 Please enclose your workshop fee of $20.

□

I

Name_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 1
Address
1
--------------- I
City_ _ _ _ _ _ _ State._ _ Zip_ _ _ _ 1
Poo~(
I
I
-·---~------------1
Movement : 1 Please send me _ _ tickets at $1 Oeach. $___ enclosed. 1
1 I

L------------------------------J

I

L------------------------------~

Does The Body Remember?

Donna Michael Gleckler
California
I am a survivor of chronic physical and sexual
abuse by my father. This effort at recovery began about
five years ago, with incest issues coming to the fore
about two years ago. The initial precipitant to getting
into the work was a very positive experience with
gynecological surgery.
I hold a Master's Degree in Clinical Social Work,
although I do not currently practice as a therapist I
social worker.

Crushed
Overwhelmed the weight of it crushes me
I am prostrate with grief
The enormity of it the horrible immensity
The force of it
Can not be measured by time or space
If I look around and multiply it by the real numbers
I am crushed anew
I would say it was a galaxy or a milky way
But even that feels too finite, too limited
It is the weight of all the world
Aghast, and the worst is the shock is wearing off
And I begin to feel it
I feel it in my muscles and yes even in my bones
Gravity has increased tenfold
I stagger under the burden
The air presses down on me heavy
Even the air feels heavy
It is almost incomprehensible but I begin to comprehend
And therein lies the smashing blow
And blow after blow after blow
The unbearable pain
The horror which crushes
So I can not raise my head for sadness
I can not raise my shoulders
From the millstone of the knowledge
It bears down on my soul and crushes me
Is this pain the price of having a soul?
I can not go back to being soulless
But I wonder if I can bear it
I ccy out it is not to be borne
I see no real choice

In Search of Healing

On love and work I do fine - BUT
My body is the battleground
It's been twenty years since .
my stomach sent its pain as clue
And lately now it's my belly too
It's been over ten years since my head began to ache
I have often worn my shoulders as earrings
My muscles stay primed, alerted
drawn up and strained forward
I am often near a cringe
I am braced - for what?
Could it be assault?
It's been seventeen years since
out of the blue I "pinched" a nerve in my neck
And the pain now merging into my upper back
sends shooting throbs down my ann
It's been nine years-since my lower back cried revolt
"We can't hold you up any longer
we have a pelvis to protect"
I have triumphed over the "female pain" of twenty-odd
years
By having parts removed
I do believe I won that one
To me the price became quite affordable
as the agony less and less endurable
Now if I could just amputate
my stomach, belly, head, neck, back and ann
Then I would not need to ask
Does the body remember?

Call A Spade A Spade
Let's not call it molestation
We are too comfortable with that word
Sanitized of feeling
So we can say it easily
Say it easily without thinking
what it really means
Say it easily
without feeling flesh being pried open
Let's not call it sexual abuse
Let's not call it incest
Let's call it what it is
Let's call it daughter-rape
Let's call it son-sodomy
Let's call it what it is, child rape
The rape of young children
Children with small baby fat thighs

Number 1

33

What A Cruel Trick

The Nothing Feeling

When I was, what, eleven?
I prayed with the scapula
At school the nuns told us
If you really believed and really prayed
Then your prayer would be answered
And so I prayed
that my father would come home on time, quiet and sober
I often prayed late, far later
far later than his longed-for quiet arrival time
I prayed alone, later and later
Holding the scapula, harder and harder
Tcying to make myself believe, fiercer and fiercer
Because if I believed, it would work
The nuns said so, didn't they?
It never worked
Imagine my despair heavily weighed down with my own
guilt
I had done it wrong,- imperfectly
The church urged perfection
Wasn't Christ perfect?
Wasn't I supposed to be just like Christ?
I had not totally believed
Not prayed perfectly, somehow
It broke my heart
And among my broken heart glass shards
lie the ragged-edged knives of shame and guilt
It was my fauU when he arrived late and mean
on a sadistic tear
My church had placed a burden on me
"Believe perfectly and you can make it happen"
Ah, the perfectly part, the ultimate escape clause
Didn't they ever guess
I was desperate enough to take it oh so seriously?
I grabbed at their straw
I hung my world on it
I took all the responsibility
As if I had the power to stop his drunken rages
What a cruel trick to play on a child
To tell them if they only believe
They can stop rape with a prayer

The second last time I remember feeling nothing
was when he tortured the bird before my six year old eyes
The bird struggled and he laughed, his high-pitched laugh
The bird struggled and broke its own neck
It so desperately wanted to get away
So desperately it broke its own neck
to break from the trap of his hands
And I remember feeling NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL
To this day I can't recall if I liked our pet bird
I am told we buried it with ceremony
But that too is lost to me
The last time I remember feeling nothing
was when my husband said
"your mom died this morning"
I would have curled into a ball
except for hanging on him as he stood
And I screamed over and over
"I feel NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL"
So I could guess the feeling's force
the force of the unfeelable feeling
And yet, sadly I feel so much better about her death
than her life

Wounded Dog
Sometimes I feel so raw
Like my skin does not protect me enough from the world
I need a better, thicker, stronger barrier
And I need so much protection
I feel like a wounded dog
cowering under the bed
I feel like a wounded dog
hiding, shaking and licking my wounds

Heart Thud
I forget all about it for a little while
And then suddenly remember
With a heart thud of ah no this is me, my life
And find myself wishing
This chronic gnawing at my soul
Was someone else's life

34

Number 1

In Search of Healing

If I Publish - The Family Dilemma

How Often Was It Rape?
This poem was written to my rrwther,
shortly after her death.

Your things came this morning
I had looked forward t.o receiving them
Few things stoke my acquisitiveness, my lust for things
But I confess dishes have always topped my list
And so I eagerly awaited your dishes
And when I had unwrapped them all
I felt they were all I had left of you
Andi wept
And I felt for the millionth time
that your life wasn't enough
It wasn't enough for you, for anybody
You raised your children, four "good citizens"
And you took pride and yes even joy in that
But no, it wasn't enough
There is the rest of the story
The story of how my father ran rough-shod over you
How he ranted and raved
And how he backed up that ranting physically, and with force
And how his appetites were
I knew his appetites in ways I would rather not know
I knew his appetites to be cruel, inhuman and sadistic
I knew his glee
I knew his sexual proclivities
I knew his enraged refusal to take no for an answer
And so I stand at my kitchen window with my lonely dishes
And I wonder, how often did he rape you?
And I know bitterness
Your lovely china teacups overflow with bitterness
before my eyes
His demands, as his self, were compulsive
He did not brook opposition often
How often was it rape?
How often did you successfully refuse him?
I am sure sometimes
I am equally sure there were other times
Many times when it was just easier to give in
His persistence, I know, was beyond amazing
I am sure he did not always take no for an answer
I know now you were afraid of him
Did he hit you for it, the sex?
My bet is yes
And I bet you never called it rape
Once I snooped, as girls sometimes do, in your dresser drawer
I found an old book, very Catholic,
It advised that many women were essentially raped
by their husbands
The tone was one of resigned acceptance
Were you always resigned to his sickening and sick hands?
I know you feared him
And I bet you never called it rape
But I will
I will call it rape
I will call it rape for you
In Search of Healing

Number 1

If I publish and they see it
I fear they will be lost to me forevermore
I fear I will be like a lone Holocaust survivor
with my entire family wiped out to my existence
Gone totally gone
Sometimes I don't feel I have a family now
But if I publish
I fear it will be irrevocable, not on my side but theirs
I fear I will be persona non grata ,
I fear I will cease to exist in their sphere, their orbit
It is not my orbit but I have had the ability and opportunity
to dip into it
If I publish I fear we will be tom asunder and never be put
together
I fear I will have no family, none, none at all
To be the only lone survivor, not a single blood relative
Totally alone in all the world
To have no one in all the world
Cast out and cut adrift with no kith or kin
But I refuse to use a pen name
I refuse
Why must I hide it?
Why should I hide it?
The thought angers me
There is power in the truth
If ttie truth sets us free then lies enslave
The truth is a beacon for those who would see
The truth is the bell-weather of change
The truth calls us to task whether we like it or not
The truth can move us and shake us
It brooks no cowardice
It cries out to be proclaimed
It has a driving force, a will of its own
It rents the sea!lli on our carefully constructed realities
Yes, there is power in the truth
Having been powerless I will take my rightful power
I will not renounce my power
I will not silence myself
I delete their names and their personal details
But I will not delete me
My father thought he could delete me
My father thought he could delete my will
He found out otherwise

35

Parallel Universes
THE EVERYDAY REALITY
of washing socks
and late for the bus
the social chitchat
and shortening skirts
Life, such as this is, is concrete and physical
and ever so mundane
If we keep it mundane enough, reality won't set in
And we can keep our minds out
The upper part of our minds is supposedly engaged
We skate only on the surface of the waters of our minds
-Never allowing ourselves to slip into the waters even an inch
For in the waters' depths is the frightening universe
The deep deep depths of the denied
And we clamor and claw and cringe and cling to the surface of the
water
We want no part of the depths of our souls

THE OTHER LAND
Of horror flashes
The knife to the eye
The rape of our tiny spaces
The secret spaces of our souls
Where the truth is buried
But send our flares
Bright flashing split second illuminating flares
that flash the horror of the other world before our faces,
in our muscles, in our thoughts
Our bodies flinch and go rigid
We smell the smells and block the blows
and stand with our toes over the vast abyss
of the secret canyons and chasms of pain
The vast vast universe of our pain
The horrors of it make us gasp
At the pain we could not endure then, but somehow did,
In the unreality of the other land
Land of dead time, dead space, dead air, dead souls
It feels more real than anything, the only reality
And yet it is a different reality, a covert world
It is a sadness beyond all measure to possess such secret
realities

THE OTHER LAND
Of perverse truth
The differentness as the possessor of secret and terrible
knowledge all would deny, expunge and flee from
It is society that makes us different
We can not, or will not, just chit chat
And our reality reminds all of hell's infinite possibilities
We say, "all is not as it should be,
all is not as you have labored so long to contrive, to pretend,
to play the numb fool"
All of that is sand on the beach
Sand on the beach about to be rearranged
The tide is coming in
The truth is coming in

36

Number 1

In Search of Healing

Dawna Elaine Page
Colorado
I have been writing poetry since the age of twelve, which happens to be the same year that I put an end to the sexual
abuse that began when I was seven. My best friend's grandfather was a child rrwlester, and he abused both his
granddaughters and me over the years. As an adul~ I was married to a physically abusive drug-addict and later raped
by an acquaintance. Today I am married again to a gentle and supportive man. Four years of therapy have enabled me
to make many positive changes in my life, and I will continue seeking support as T,ong as I am learning and growing.
Life today is good.

Little Girl

Healing

Seven is the time for picking strawberries
sweet and dusty from the garden.
Seven is the time for skipping rope,
playing jacks, telling secrets.
Not keeping them.

The books and bread of childhood
borne in torn and bleeding hands
sheltered secrets from their sight.
My eyes, once grey as mice, faded
brown then gold then green
suffocating in colorlessness. I never
saw his eyes, only blue and ice.

Seven is when life bubbles over with giggles
chocolates from Grandma, dominoes with Dad.
But just one touch can knock them all down.

So I'm trying on seven again
(my niece is showing me how)
and it's easy to be small
and scared on the slide
since the first time I was seven
I wasn't.

In braille, his hands
read horses, fish and tobacco
and my skin
sought solace
in adulterated wine,
feint sweetness. Not his
fist split me open
on his path in the dust
I traced
the wine and words of sister women
who broke bread in healing hands
shattered secrets in the night.

For Isaac

The pail removed, the mouse still ran blind circles ...

I was delivered to the world
by the hands of a surgeon.
Handled over the years by as many men.
At thirty
I was delivered from the world of
pedophiles rapists and batterers
by the strength of my own
tom and bleeding fingers
clinging to the last shred
each time.
I've been caressed by lovers and husbands
shaped by strokes of masseuse and mentor
even soothed by sisters in pain.
Many hands have held me
seeking
to own to use to heal to share.
But never was I touched
until you encircled my finger
with your tiny fist
the day I delivered you.

The trains and teddies of my childhood
trapped by pen on paper pages
carry my child
my pain
my wisdom
to a place where a little girl cries alone
her only tears her bleeding hands.

Seven is when you're not afraid Lo swing high,
laugh loud, try anything twice.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

37

Linda Gean
New Mexico
August 8, 1992 (my 48th birthday)
My name is Linda Gean.
I am an incest survivor.
Until this year, my only memories were of one
incident qf my step-father in bed with me when I was
13. He had his right arm under my head and his hand
on my breas~ and his le.ft hand was in my private part
in my pants. I had memories of him talking realfiUhy
sex stuff to me whenever I helped himfixfence,Jeed
cattle, or anytime I was alone with him When we
would "horse around" he'd always end up groping my
breasts and/or groin. Every time I wok a bath, he'd
come in, sometimes naked himself. I'd try t,o hide myself
by pulling my legs up to my chest and use the washcloth
t,o cover me. He would grab at me and yank the
washcl,oth away. He made me wuch his penis. lf I
wanted my allowance, want,ed t,o go t,o the movies,
wanted to go on a school function ( class parties, ball
games,jield trips, etc.) I had to give him a 'Jeel" ofmy
breasts and/or groin. He would often sneak up behind •
me and "gmb" afeel or goose me.
/first went int,o individual therapy in 1985. In
1989 I went into hypnotherapy, and I learned that a l,ot
qf reaUy bad things had happened t,o me. Even though
my subconscious had "told al4 "I still tried t,o deny it.
The male therapist I saw dm no therapy with the
conscious me, though, and I carried a lot of anger
inside. He also got me involved in some evil type of
work, and this was very troubling and upsetting t,o me.
/finally ''woke up" to how he was abusing me and
st,opped seeing him I occasionally see his female
associate, who became afriend over the years. She
works with me when I need her help.
In February, 1992, I began group therapy. Things
began coming into conscious awareness through
nightmares and.flashbacks. I can now accept it aU as
fact because I have the conscious awareness of it now.
Nightmare memories I've had: 1) My step-father
was aborting a baby (his)jrom me. I was watching
from overhead. Through the hypnotherapy I learned
that he got me pregnant twice - 6 months apart then abort,ed them both himself, crudely, inhumanely,
brutally, the first one when I was 12, the second when I

38

was 13. 2) He put me into a hole, and I saw him
shoveling dirt onto me. 3) He had me laying naked in
the snow, and he was packing snow inside my vagina.
Through therapy we decided he must have been trying
t,o stop or slow down bleeding ofter one of the abortians.
4) He nearly drowned me in a horse tank I liked t,o
swim in - I was about 10. 5) He had me backed up
against a post in the shed, he was poking me in the
sternum area, which is very painfu4 and he was
laughing at my pain. Flashbacks ( and some dreams):
He hit me on my head, shoulders, entire back, legs and
feet, sometimes with his hand, sometimes with an object
that looks like a rubber hose; he held a heated branding
iron in my face; he kicked me in the tailbone with his
boot; he put pillows on my face; and other things that
have "le.ft" me right now.
I'm sure my therapy is coming t,o an end. After
seven years, I'm ready to put the past behind me and
get on with my life. I want t,o do some inner child work,
then I feel I will be done. I know more memories may
come up in the future, but not I know how t,o work with
those and resolve them. I'm now "surviving" by doing
what's bestforme ( and my subconscious). With God's
help we'll make it. I do lots of positive oJfirmations
daily, and reverse any negative thought immediately
with positive affirmations.
This past May I received my Bachelor ofArt degree
in Psychology. I also have an Associate ofArt degree in
Criminal Justice. I was a Licensed Practical Nurse
until I injured my lower back in 1976. I went through a
head injury accident in 1981, which took some time to
recaver from. I was in an aut,o accident in 1987, which
I still receive treatmentfor.
My uUimate goal is t,o have my own business where
those who cannot afford individual counseling can
come. I know there are groups at affordable rates, but
some people aren't ready for that t,o start with; they go
because it's all they can afford. And, because ofmy own
experience with what I would call extremely inept
thempists, I know that sometimes inexpensive therapy
isn't necessarily good therapy. I know/ can give good,
empathetic therapy, and it will be affordable.
I believe this is God's plan for me, and it makes me
happy that HE chose me t,o do this.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

You took my identity.
You stole it away from me.
Now I don't know who I am.
I don't know what my dreams were then - if I even
had any.
I don't know what I wanted to become.
So many choices I thought were mine weren't.
I thought I chose not to have sex until I was 19.
That turned out to be your choice.
I wanted to have 3 or 4 children.
You ravaged my body and I wasn't granted that choice.
Who am I? What am I all about?
I feel like an empty shell.
I go about doing what is expected of me, not knowing
why.
I have to eat, so I cook.
I have to pass my classes, so I study.
I have to be friendly, so I put a smile on my face.
I have to have goals, so I pretend to set some.
I've never felt like I belong here on earth.
I've never felt at home here on earth.
I've never felt like I belong anywhere.
I feel depression swallowing me up.
I try to fight it.
For what? Why?
I feel like I'm living inside a dark, ·musty, hovering
cloud.
It's uncomfortable.
It feels stifling, suffocating.
I'm supposed to be healing and finding myself.
How can I find me if I don't know who I'm looking for?
I don't know who I am.
I don't know what I'm all about.
Where. do I find me?
How do I know when I find me?
You took my identity and I feel like nobody.
You took my identity and I don't know who the real me
is.
You took my identity and I don't know where to find it
now.
You took my identity, my childhood, and most ofmy
adulthood.
Please give me back my identity!
I need it now.
I want to know who I am, what I am, and why.

If
If I close my eyes, he won't see me.
If I keep my eyes open, I1l see him coming to get me.
If I stop breathing, he won't hear me.
If I breathe, I feel the pain.
If I make myself real small, he won't find me.
If I make myself invisible, he can't play tricks on me.
If I close my mouth tight, he won't poke stuff in it.
If I speak up, no one will hear.
If I cross my legs tight, he can't get between them.
If I wear jeans, he can't get in ???
If I cry real hard, he'll feel sorry for me.
If I laugh at anything, he'll think I'm having fun.
If I tell anyone, I'll disappear forever.
If I don't tell someone, I'm "lost" forever.
If I love daddy, I'll do what he wants me to.
If I want daddy to love me, I'll let him hurt me.
If I wasn't such a bad girl, he wouldn't hurt me.
If I learn to be a good girl, he'll treat me nicer.
If I crawl way back in the closet, he won't get me.
If I hide under the bed, he won't look for me there.
If I pretend to be asleep, he'll leave me alone??
If I am awake, he'll crawl in beside me.
If I scream as loud as I can, he'll hit me.
If I scream inside me, no one will hear and I'll be safe.
If I cling to Mom, hfll keep his hands off me.
If I had Grandma live here, I'd be safe all the time.
If I shut my bedroom door, he can't come in???
If I could just lock the bathroom door, I could bathe in safety.
If I were fat-real fat-he'd leave me alone.
If I look ugly and old, he won't want me.
If I ever have sex with anyone else, he'll kill me.
If I ever want children, he's taken that choice away from me.
If I am so worthless and bad, why am I here?
If there really is a GOD, why does he let this go on?
If there really is a GOD, why doesn't he take the mean man away?
If Mom dies, what will happen to me?
If Mom weren't so naive, she'd see what he's doing.
If I'm not safe in my own home, where am I safe?
If I'm not safe in my own body, where am I safe?
If I'm not safe in my own head, where am I safe?
If I killed him, who would understand or help me?
If I don't kill him, how will I keep from being killed?

IF I DIED, he would still find a way to get me.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

39

Do You Know What It's Uke?
DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO
live in a body that doesn't feel like mine?
live with a mind that doesn't feel like mine?
make a decision and wait to be condemned for it?
have 50 different things whirling around in my head at once and I can't center on one single thought?
be 48 and realize I've never had a life of my own?
never have had a childhood because I was made a woman at the age of 5?
be unable to trust my choices because someone else always made the choices for me before?
. . . feel I've made a right choice, but some inner voice(s) tells me it's wrong?
want my own children, but to know I can't have any, because of his abortions on me?
look back at my 48 years and be able to claim nothing as mine - everything I've done seems to be a direct result of what he
did to me? Even my accomplishments feel like failures to me.
be afraid to go to bed because of the memories that may come?
feel powerless -AGAIN - because I can't take him to court for raping me for 12 years and for killing my babies??
feel re-abused when I "remember" what he did?
have the excruciating body memories when I "remember"?
want to die time after time so I don't have to suffer any more/again?
hurt to the very core of my being?
love and believe in God, but 1¥1te him for letting this happen to me?
feel like such a success and such a failure at the same time?
feel like my entire life belongs to someone else, not me?
feel terrified of growing old with no children to love me, to comfort me, to care about me?
feel alone even when surrounded by people?
feel such deep, genuine hate for my body?
despise myself for being too weak-willed to quit eating wrong and to quit smoking?
want inner peace and contentment desperately; but, every time I think I've accomplished that, along comes another memory
or someone confusing me, and it's shattered?
have so much love to give, but I can't trust anyone enough to let them get close to me so I can give it?
hear what people are saying to me, but not be able to believe them?
feel so out of touch with my feelings - I wonder if there are any?
want to laugh and have fun, but there's nothing funny in my life or about my life?
feel so frustrated to get this therapy over with, but there seem to be memories coming up every time I think I'm about done;
and there seems to be no end to body and psyche parts that need work and healing, also?
look into a mirror and see a pretty woman, then the next time - maybe just a few minutes later - look at the ugliest, most
worthless bitch in the world in that mirror?
be humiliated by being bawled out in front of friends/family, for no reason?
have to go fix fence, feed cows, pull weeds throughout the entire pasture (after the flood), and do chores like aboy, instead
of doing girl stuff?
have to give him a feel of my tits or let him grope my groin so I could go to a picture show or some school function, or to get
my allowance?
be going through all the hell I've gone through the past seven years and wonder why I continue?
wonder if it ever ends?
feel like there are more than just me occupying my body/mind? I do, say, react to things and later wonder why - what I
respond with is so unlike me - it's real scary.
feel so proud of myself for what I've accomplished, then Mom says I'm "wallowing" in this stuff, and it's been like an anvil
landed on me and I can't get over the hurt, bewilderment, devastation that caused me.
be told one thing, then something else totally contradictory? The confusion that causes is enormous.
want to be cared for, but I've been the care giver and protector for all my life, and I don't know how to ask to be cared for?
want to just lay down and hope to never wake up?
feel positive and negative about life at the same time? I can't seem to separate them.
end this feeling that I haven't covered everything yet? I have to end it sometime, so now is a good time.

40

Number 1

In Search of Healing

qrnneMarie
Illinois
When I was twelve years of age, I was rrwlested by my cousin. At age nineteen, I was raped by an
aquaintance. But even worseforme, I was sexually, physically, verbally and emotionally abused by my
rrwther from the time I was a baby. Also, I was often neglected. The physical and sexual abuse stopped when
I was about thirteen years old.
I now understand the depth of my rrwther's mental illness. Because of this, I hold no anirrwsity toward
her. But, now that I am beginning to remember parts ofmy past, it rrwkes being with her extremely difficult.
I am learning with the help of an excellent therapist to set boundaries - boundaries I had never know
before - by limiting the arrwunt of time I spend with my rrwther.

A Gift for Mommy

Silence

I made Mommy a necklace out of some plastic beads
when I was only four years old. Mommy was busy ironing in
the kitchen. I ran into her with the beaded gift in my small
hands. She didn't want to be bothered by a little girl and her
childish jewelry.
I wanted Mommy's attention, approval and acceptance
so .desperately. I kept nagging at her to notice me and my
gift. I accidentally knocked over the sprinkling bottle. It was
the old fashioned type that used a glass soda bottle with a
cork top for the sprinkler.
The bottle fell to the floor and broke into several
pieces. Mommy was furious with me! She jerked me by my
hair and dragged me off into the.bedroom. Mommy stripped
me naked and tied me spread-eagle to the bed.
I knew better than to utter a sound for that would only
make matters worse for me, but inside I was terrified.
Mommy disappeared briefly. When she returned, she had a
piece of the broken glass in her hand. Mommy calmly said
to me, "I'll teach you not to disturb me when I'm busy and
not to break things." Mommy then took the piece of glass
and shoved it inside me. The pain was unbearable! The
blood frightened me even more.
I wanted to scream and cry; but I knew better than to
break anything else ever again, including Mommy's rule
about silence. I could only cry inwardly and scream without
a voice.
I have no idea whatever happened to that beaded
necklace, but it was the last one I ever made.

Silence holds the family secrets.
Silence keeps the skeletons in their closets.

In Search of Healing

"What goes on in this house is our business!"
"Don't you ever tell anybody about ... !"
Silence breeds fear and teaches shame.
Silence protects those who hurt us.
"Keep your lying mouth shut!"
"Who'd believe a dumb kid like you?"
Silence leads to self-blame and guilt.
Silence hides the tears and the pain inside.
"Be quiet, you little brat!"
"Don't you dare make a sound!"
Silence breaks the heart and destroys the spirit.
Silence leaves us alone in confused agony.

Number 1

41

Chrystie
Ont:a.rio, Canada
This series of dmwings represents a regular
occurrence in my life as·a child. It was a ritual which
occurred several times a week when I was between the
ages of two andfive.
The dmwing_s can be seen in a matter of minutes,
but it took me one year ofpainstaking agony to' retrieve
this experience. It came in bits and pieces of disjointed
pictures and much body pain. One cia,y, in session with
my therapis~ I exciliimed, ''I've got it! It was a
ceremony!"
I decided to confront Mother. .I wanted her to
validate my experience and tell me whal had happened
there. However, I was afmid thal ifI said even one thing
wrong, she would jump on thal detai~ to invalidate
everything. So I drew itfor her and wrote the words.
It was a silent confrontation. I turned the pages,
while she read. The words were in Ukrainian, our
native language. My parents, being immigrants, did not
speak or read English well
When it was over, she looked at me and said,
''What's this supposed to be?" She then went on for an
hour, trying to: convince me thal no child was as well
caredfor as twas.
I asked her to leave.

Presented person to person Aug 7/1988

For Mother

•

~Ol-{1

C
From her little girl,
Chzystie

42

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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In Search of Healing

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Number 1

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44

Number 1

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In Search of Healing

Number 1

45

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46

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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put me naked on that table

In Search of Healing

Number 1

47

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YOU ALWAYS STOOD HERE

It was as if
I were not a person.
I knew all these people
during the day.

48

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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hated
it.

50

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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Number 1

In Search of Healing

And you drew things
with a sharp object
on my naked body.
That really hurt
as though someone
were sending
electricity
through me.

BUT YOU NEVER LEFT ANY MARKS.

In Search of Healing

Number 1

53

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Number 1

In Search of Healing

AND YOU, MOTHER
often held me down
while these people theseour friends did these things to me

In Search of Healing

Number 1

55

AND TIIlS IS HOW
HE-

YOU KNOW WHO LOVED ME
And you all stood there
in a circle
.andlooked

AND YOU DID, TOO

In Search of Healing

Number 1

57

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At the end, you wiped me off, put on my clothes,
and you led me back to my bed to sleep.

58

Number 1

In Search of Healing

H,; lit
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Mr½ ne fe.
During the day
everyone behaved
as though
nothing
had happened
the night
before

In Search of Healing

Number 1

59

efl
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60

Number 1

In Search of Healing

This

event
happened
regularly,

Mother!

In Search of Healing

Number 1

61

Barbara Rose
Minnesota
The Lump
There is a lump in my throat; it nags and it lingers. It
feels like my entire body is sending all of its energy, anxiety
and panic to one spot at the base of my throat where my
neck connects to my chest. This is a familiar feeling, and it
has come and gone before on many occasions in my adult
life.
This lump in my throat is not leaving; it is with me night
and day. I can't seem to get rid of it this time. But yet there
is a way to rid myself of it once and for all and that time has
come, for the lump is ready - it is time - it is tired of
continually being tucked away. I am ready; it is safe now.
I relax comfortably, sitting and closing my eyes. The
memory is beckoning, pleading to be released, screaming to
be heard. I immediately become four years old, dressedin
my favorite cowgirl outfit. Today is a special day at nursery
school; pictures are being taken and I want to feel extra
special. As luck would have it, my favorite boy friend,
Jimmy C., is wearing his cowboy outfit, and we have so
much fun playing cowboy and cowgirl together. He lets me
wear his hat and we squeal with dt!light chasing each other.
Picture time comes and goes, then lunch time, and then we
pull out our blankets to rest.
Nap time, blinds closed, the cool floor, relief. As nap
time ends, we begin to stir, whispering and giggling. The
excitement increases until the teachers give in to our
exuberance.
Story time, play time, snack time. Too soon, the special
day is over. I am filled with contentment as I prepare to
walk home. We live three houses away from nursery school,
and I always feel like such a big girl to be able to walk home
without anyone having to pick me up. I wave goodbye to my
teachers, and as I walk out the door I realize that today will
be different. He is there. Standing outside his car with the
'front windows rolled down and his hands in his pockets.
There is nowhere to run. I already know that he is
bigger, faster and more powerful than I. He opens his door
and signals - come along before I get impatient. He is
already agitated; I can see it in his face. I don't want to
make him mad, too. As I climb into the car I greet him softly
- Hello Uncle Al. Sick and trembling, I sit in the front seat
as he starts the car and begins slowly driving.
His hand reaches over and sliaes my favorite cowgirl
skirt up, so that my bare legs are touching the vinyl seat
cover. He separates my legs, and puts his hand into my
underpants and begins playing with my private parts. I split.
There is a convenient spot by the light on the ceiling of the
car from where I can watch.

The drive is a short one to the dead end on the little
girl's street. He stops the car, and as I look down I can see
that look on his face. He removes his hand from her
underwear and orders the four year old to the back seat.
She does not move quickly enough, and he angrily picks her
up and throws her into the back. He follows close behind. I
can't see whether or not the little girl is struggling beneath
his body, and I want to fight for her. I hear the zip as he
pulls his fly down and feel the soft part of his body touch
her face. I get glimpses of him forcing his penis into her tiny
mouth. Cramming it down her throat as she struggles to
breath, gagging, suffocating. It does not take him long to get
complete gratification from this attack, and his body thrusts
into her face as he groans in pleasure. She appears to be
unconscious. As he moves away, she begins to come to life,
choking, gagging and struggling to breathe, gasping for air.
As she gags to throw up he shoots her that "don't you dare"
look, and remembering even more pain she obeys.
Swallowing, she chokes down that thick sticky mass that
fills her mouth and throat. I return now. I am back in my
body and watch as he zips up his pants and climbs back into
the front seat. He starts the car and drives me home. As I
numbly climb out of the car he hands me a lollipop and
says, "Be a good girl; don't get into any cars with strangers."
The lump in my throat explodes. I scream, the four
year old screams and finally there is relief.

Number 1

In Search of Healing

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Survivors need 4UIZV/Vf1f<
"I'm listening to a lot of war stories, listening to the terror. Whatever you don't talk about in your conscious
life is going to get stored, and when your brain and body can't take it all, it's going to come out somewhere
This is burnout with the same kinds of symptoms our clients have."
•
Secondary PTSD: Beyond Burnout

"Sexual abuse is a term I associate with red flannel pajamas, a junior prom and my mother. Like most people,
I used to think of sexual abuse as unwanted sexual intercourse, but I have learned there are other ways to
inflict sexual pain."
When Sexual Abuse Is More Than Touching

"What happens to a person who has been sexually abused in a language other than the dominant language of
this countzy, English? Let me illustrate through my own experience."
Language, Triggers and Loss

"One of the best reasons to believe survivors' memories is because believing initiates and enhances healing.
As survivors begin to remember the specific abuses they lived through, they begin to heal. That is the
miracle. All the cognitive therapy, dmg therapy and behavioral reinforcement that survivors have tried just
do not work like GETTING THE MEMORIES."
Believing Heal<;

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