Archive for trauma

The Fairest of them All . . . Finally

Posted in My Childhood, shorts with tags , , , , , , , on September 29, 2012 by The Dawn (Aya Aja)

“Hey, when she calls, right, tell her ass that I locked myself in my room, and I’m sitt’in in the corner rock’in  and I’m say’in,” makes retarded gesture and in the ghostly voice says, “whhhy . . . whhy . . . whhhhy.”

The two sisters burst into laughter.

“What the hell!,” Olivia can barely contain her  laughter. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buuut . . . ,” she didn’t understand why she was doing it.

“. . . That’s what she wants to hear right?,” Constance knows that if they do it all types of things will be set into motion, there will be phone calls made and people that she really doesn’t want worried will feel bad. So instead she compromises, “Fine just tell her I’m in a mental hospital.”

“Okaaaay.”

That gives Constance such a warm feeling of peace inside. Finally, she’ll be telling her mother what she has always wanted to hear, that she is lifeless, that she has given up, she can be the best, the winner now, she can be the fairest of them all. The fight and the struggle for Constance’s peace and happiness will be over, she can go on living her life in without worrying if  her mother  is going to be lurking around the corner trying to sabotage the existence of her happiness.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

Rant #2

Posted in My Childhood, Rants with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 31, 2011 by The Dawn (Aya Aja)

I will never call you mother again. I spend most of my thought process thinking of you and why, and why, why would you, how could you, there is no way possible that someone could know what they were doing and kill a child’s spirit, courage, and will to live.

Yes there is, you are living proof for me that there is evil. Everything you did and said to me affected me then and it also affected my future. I AM ENRAGED!!!!!!  Now I will only be asking myself how do I feel, how did that affect me, am I okay?

I see now, that you received a lot of pleasure out of harming me, out of stopping me from completing my plans and doing what is right for me.  It was very pleasurable for you because I fought hard and long and I was very depressed and defeated and you got to feed off of that.  The thought of it literally makes me want to go insane and lose control of myself.

How unnatural, how disgusting, how weak and cheap and predatory, to feed off of your own children. I don’t hate you, I don’t feel anything for you because feelings and even labels of what someone is or isn’t are for humans. And you are not worthy of that label.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

You Can’t Manipulate Life to get what you Want

Posted in How to Heal, My Childhood, Rants with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 31, 2011 by The Dawn (Aya Aja)

Growing up I was taught by watching my parents that how you manifest what you want is by trying to manipulate life.  Boy did they scheme, get rich quick plans, ice cream trucks, moving and shaking here and there, promotions at work and they were miserable. My step – father would talk about his dreams but my mother never ever talked about hers. I heard her say once that she wanted to take ballet classes when she was younger but her mother denied her. They weren’t fluid and in the flow of life.

My mother used intimadation to ruin my natural channels and flow with life.  Even though my mother’s life choices were never great and I was sad for lack of connection, I was able manifest everything I wanted for myself in my life even without her help. Others would help me. She was not having it, she watched me like a hawk and made me feel like dog shit in order to keep me from being happy. After a while I gave up on even wanting anything, or expecting anything good to happen for me at all.

This is something that I am seeing as I lay here with myself realizing that there is nothing that I can “do” to make anything happen in my life. I have tried hard to make my dreams come true every since I moved out when I was 18 years old. I just turned 30, I thought that when I escaped everything would just happen for me. Not so fast, smooth or easy, I had no idea the work that needed to done to undo the programming that my mother brainwashed me into by her actions, how she viewed me, and how I was treated. Everything starts from within, with a true desire, with a true passion, the action is automatic.

Now the question is, what do I truly want and desire? I haven’t let myself  know what I wanted with certainty since before my mother started abusing my masculine side (animus) when I was going through puberty.

There was a particular incident that I will never forget. I told my mother I wanted to be a singer when I was 11 or 12 years and she looked down at me with those wild raging eyes and she asked me in a very condescending tone,

“Sooooo, you think that the family is just gonna up and move to California just so that you can sing?,”

I shook my head yes, even though I knew it was the wrong answer, I honestly felt like that would be really cool, and plus I was a smart ass . Then she went in at me.

“You are so selfish, you think you’re all that, nobody is gonna move for you, I have 5 other kids you are not the only one living in this house . . . and etc . . . ”

I remember another time I was practicing really hard to get this brian mknight run from one of his songs, and I shared it with her.  She rolled her eyes at me and had the most evil look on her face as she sled out the room. I didn’t know what hit me.

There was another time, I let her hear a song I had written and all she could say is that’s sad as she walked away from me.

Its so much in the words of the story that are important. It is the sensation I feel in my body that makes the difference in whether or not I truly heal. I can feel this in my upper back. Its a numbing feeling almost as if nothing is there, its a deadening feeling that stops all excitement. Its horrible, its almost as if it didn’t happen but something did happen.

This journey for me has been about self – compassion and self – understanding. As much as I would like to get on with my life and just sing already, now I know why it’s just not so simple. My mother gave me a self – image that I have to uncover and accept those parts of me back into my center. Its based off of her needs, inferiority complex, her never wanting to me thrive so that  I would never leave, she needed everything in her life to match the view of life that she had because if it didn’t she had to destroy. Once she knocked most of the vitality out of me she still wasn’t finished, then I was a loser, I’m nothing, I’m crazy. That thing is vicious.

Oh, how confusing for a little girl.

© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved

Rag Doll

Posted in Poems, Rants, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 28, 2011 by The Dawn (Aya Aja)
I am tired of being your rag doll.
I have spread myself far and wide for people who I could never say no to
I have been a rag doll for many men
A slave willingly offering my feminine sexuality
Offering the opening of myself to be engulfed for nothing by nothing
Its because of you mother, my natural predator, I was born to my enemy
Having to grow up and learn that’s its nothing personal
I’ve healed and learned that there is nothing behind all your antics
Your monstrous face
Your intimidating eyes
Your screeching, your yelling, hands on your hips, flailing, and straight up temper tantrums that have haunted me my whole life
Its wrong for me to get angry but permissible for you
Its wrong for me to have wants, needs, and desires but I fulfill yours
As a teen – ager I was obviously worn out
Tired from fighting with you, pleading with you, crying to you, trying to understand you, trying to get you to understand what I needed
For those outburst of self – expression I was shot down, slapped down, and shut up, told I didn’t have a place, a voice, and shouldn’t bother at all to live
Then you had no more use for me, you used me, and started telling my younger siblings that I was crazy
I could barely move
My frontal lobe is worn out because all I had left for me was in fantasy
There is no hope for me and you but there is hope for me
I’ll tell you a little secret that I think you already knew
I held on to myself on the inside and that part you could not control
I face you now again and again, the tears stream out of my eyes
I will make it and be all that I ever thought I could be
I don’t know if I will ever give birth but I will so
Laterally
The rag doll that you once used and toyed with and chewed, and squeezed and scatched
Knows that to become real, you need real love, and I have got plenty of that
I let myself know what my values are and I’m able to appropriately act
I let my body give me signs and post for I am valuable in fact
Emotional violence is very real and it created a scared cowering child
That turned into a scared and cowering adult but I am can healing now
Its hard to see the truth but I’m glad I’ve done it more than not
I will spend  my life as a vigilent adult
And you . . . well you will probaly still be scouring around like a vulture
Looking for your next prey because you can’t birth anymore children
What a wonderful idea for a predator like you
To make energy meals out the children that need and depend on you
And how wonderfully convenient for you to hide behind
The mask you made
Because all the laws are for adults
In the bible the children get laid
Out on floor for the lashings they deserve for being disobedient to the adults
Who apparently know it all
How can a child be disobedient?
In the constitution it says that all men are due rights under the natural laws of God but I guess that doesn’t apply to little people
Children are just the pets of adults
If it wasn’t for what’s acceptable to society and the image that everyone saw
You would easily take the next step after you were finished with your crimes and make sign that said,
“For Sale, Rag Dolls.”
You would sell your children off
Because to you they are not children at all
And this is where my understanding ends and perhaps you can take over and fill in because I will never understand that kind of indifference
No never, not at all.
This link leads to a link from a journal entry I wrote and a picture drew about how I feel in my relationship with my mother.
https://thescienceofhealingambientabuse.wordpress.com/?attachment_id=46
© 2012 IAP Art Group ™ All Rights Reserved