Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Trigger Warning Shame.


What do you do if your world view is lived through spectacles of fear. Some one might say, "do you remember that holiday?" and the memory  leaps into your mind as, "DO YOU REMEMBER THAT HOLIDAY!!!" or a comment "What a lovely sunny day" and you interpret it as, "UNKNOWN SUNNY DAY!!!". Here another classic "we are going out today" and you spiral out of control "WHAT?  WHY?  WHERE? WHEN???".

As I have discussed in previous blogs my world view only came mostly from one point of origin  FEAR! and I want to break another littlle chunk of that " fear off" so here goes.

I first met frog face through a girl on the school bus. Two other girls and myself would go to smoke at her house. I was 13 and the others where 11. Soon frog face used to ask us to go and collect more cigarettes from different mens houses off the estate. The men would ask us to sit on their laps and watch TV with them, in return we would have earn our own packet of fags. Over a few months things escalated and frog face started to send my friends on thier own to collect cigeretts (and now money to).

I, having already developed a pretty soild freeze response to threat became pretty useless on these "collecting missions". I still have incredible memories of beiing frozen sat at certain tables unable to move whilst smelling and listening to noise. Often the noise would be my friend laughing and giggling, deep inside me these noise's would cut thru me like ice. I knew things where not right. The smells were wrong!

Soon frog face would not even send me, instead she would do what was called the "staring game".  You see frog face had another power she practiced white witchcraft and claimed to be psychic. Frog face introduced me to smoking skunk with her, I felt guilty but important. She would draw pictures with me and make me dinner at the weekends, she would meet me straight of the school bus and take me to the chip shop.

As you know I came from a strict brethren  type back ground. I was not just smoking but smoking drugs, I was listening to music and enjoying it!. I new my friends were in trouble but I couldn't help no matter how much I prayed and I knew this was because God was angry with me. I was selfish so my prayers ment nothing. To top it all my new friend was into whitch craft. The shame was over whelming. The serect grew and grew. So to did my thinking that frog face really cared for me. She would stare into my eyes and claim to have read my toughts. I knew my thoughts were of how sinful I truly was, how evil I had become. So Pretty early on I cried and frog face would hug me. Not just a quick hug but a hug that felt like it would never end, she would stroke my head and until my tears dried up and I felt safe.

I dont need to write what happen in the months after as Im sure you all understand, and this blog is not about that its about sticking my fingers up at shame! 

 Back then in that religous world there was only black and white, there were leaders, elders, prophets, and their judgement it absolute. Often their understanding was fairly flawed. Having already got  a  reputation of unruly angry behavior from about the age of two, I was in the dog house with the majority of most people's thinking. I already hated myself and my reactions. It came as no suprise to me that I had "fallen way beyond" the point of grace. 

I decided that God had given me a way to redeem myself, that because me body was alredy filthy it could be used until such times as frog face joined the church. I decied that this must be Gods way of saving frog face and if I could just hold out she would have a damacas experience and everything would be ok. We could then just be friends she wouldn't  need to do thoes things to me any more and I would have helped save her, bring her to the narrow path.

Frog face played on this she stole bibles and but them under her bed, she put a picture of Jesus on her bedroom door and kissed it regulary, she would cry and say how awful she was but that the devil had her in his grip. 
After a while I gave up, my spirit broke as her "rituals" started leaving marks on my body. It was as if she never left me not even at school. I bunked PE because I could no longer get changed. One day I got  of the school bus two stops after mine so frog face would think I was not on it. I sneaked home. I realised I was going to have to hide and let God down. I couldn't  wait for her to be saved any longer.

So the shame grew. I had now let God down again! the one chance I had to redeam myself gone. I hated myself, I was thoroughly  disgusting. Frog face continued to stalk me for six years until I moved to Nottingham. My only way to try and fight back was to sneak out in the middle of the night. I took the dog and a knife to try and kill her. So the shame grew I was now lusting after murder, there was no goodness left, my heart must be black. To counter act this horrendous realisation I decided it would be best if I could get raped. I knew people got help and understanding and forgiveness from the church if you got raped.  I would be able to keep frog face a secret but get forgiveness. All my behavior would be understood and I would be acceptable again. So I now wandered at night into every dodgy palce I could find, and I would cry because I was to dirty to even be raped no one came near me. God must be so cross with me. So the shame grew.

I write this now because as I said I want to stick two fingers up to shame, I still sometimes have the thought as people compliment me, but what if people found out you tried to kill? (although I now know that it wasnt my fault),  Well  to you horrid untruth, I stick two fingers up! because now everyone knows!  

Friday, 1 May 2015


I am going to give myself only thirty minutes to write this. Already I have many voices shouting, talking calmly, being indignant, being well being what (we /they) generally all are a little individually  disjointed. I have learnt that they all represent a 'real' side. They all have a good piont to make. They/we all matter. In this Blogg  I am going to try and rally the facts and not get entrenched in emotion so as to take the wind out of most of the conversational sails. Using the facts you can make your own conclusions.

 I have mentioned  in earlier bloggs my parents had in the early days a very strong 'brethren type ' faith. This life was a life of rules personal sacrifice and very strict black and white thinking. Men the absolute unquestionable leaders, most of the women were the cake making, sewing ladies group, dinner on the table types.

Children were there as gifts to be moulded and protected from the "dangerous world" of sin and unholiness. Children were to be kept in strict discipline so as to remain as pure as possible and make less mistakes than thier peers or predecessors thus  keeping  family purity.

(Eek, The thirty minutes is almost gone). 

Im not going to reflect on all the things relating to me and my sisters. I just want to point out rightly or wrongly the pressure my parents were under. This impossible pressure to carry the fate of the world literally on thier shoulders, whilst relinquishing  all personal self rights or care. Their battle to bring light to all things dark and sinful certainly had some interesting results.

Over the years my dad has had numerous tropical diseases including, malaria and typhoid. He has had two mental breakdowns and been sucidal. He has suffered with ME, cronic fatigue, anger, headaches and isolation.  I  think most the major joints in his body have at one piont or another been inflamed broken iced or injected with painkillers.

My mum has two faces her 'public face' and her 'real face' my sisters and I are privileged to know her 'Real face'. We are some of her best friends. She has suffered with major bouts of 'not being seen/depression' and has constantly struggled with digestive and breathing  issues.

I look at all five of us and we each have a deep thick story. Somehow we all ended up managing our stories through the soup of black and white religion. We all have chapters and paragraphs that should have never happened or at least interpreted better. 

As a family we all find ourselves alive and still here in 2015. Each year as the black and white layers are revealed and shed, we are getting to know each other as honest people with all our flaws. I count myself blessed to be able to have not just second chances but first chances.