Author: Chloe | Spiritual Abuse Blogs

Exploring Emotions: Lost and Found

As the humid summer days grow longer, tall sunflower stalks follow the path of the dawning sun until shadows appear under the moonlit sky. Then, eager for a new day with endless possibilities, the yellow giants twirl around in anticipation of the sun’s kisses in the morning. While many cling to the flower’s intense focus on the hope of a new dawn, I cringe at their faces, remembering Mrs. Julie and longing for the days of journals and daily phone calls. My heart yearns to find solace sitting next to her, eating chunky monkey ice cream on the days that my high school and college years seemed to turn upside down. It is the smell of Ragu alfredo sauce, a meal that her and I both loved, while our families despised it. It is the yellow highlighter, blue pen, and colored ribbons in her Bible. It is when the choir sings, “Through the Garden.” But, when the congregation yells, “Praise God!” in song, I see her husband’s face and hear his voice. I crawl within myself, terrified of more hours of yelling and screaming, manipulation and berating. It is a foul smell in the car, an extremely heavy-set man passing out tracts. It is the man holding Scripture signs or someone talking through a megaphone. It is a preacher on Sunday morning talking about a person being “carnal” or needing to repent. But I never knew I suffered a loss.

According to the authors of Managing Traumatic Stress Through Art (pg. 74), these feelings of loss are “a natural reaction to actual or imagined losses that vary according to the type and impact of the trauma. It is common to experience a loss of one or more of the following as a result of the trauma:

- A sense of safety and security
- Meaning and purpose in life
- Physical health or body integrity
- The ability to relate effectively with others
- Self-esteem or identity
- Someone or something you love”

In my life, there was no viewing or physical casket. No funeral or solemn prayer. There was no placement of an actual body or a covering of earth with beautiful flowers in honor of their passing. Rather, I was left in a confused state with only the overwhelming emotions and harrowing memories left behind. I lost not only my best-friend and mentor, but I lost my childhood innocence and wonder, and I no longer knew the person I had become. It turns out that recognizing and accepting these losses are the first steps in allowing the actual grieving process to begin, in order to allow the pains to lesson over time, even if they never truly go away. It is vital to look deep within and ask what losses you have endured from the trauma. What has changed, shifted, or shattered into a million pieces? Recognizing these feelings and having compassion on yourself in a way that allows space to grieve and seek support as needed will begin the path to acceptance and healing.

This exercise involves writing a letter or poem to someone who has experienced trauma(s) similar to your own. For those not familiar, I was under a husband-wife couple that was like a miniature cult, brainwashing and isolation included. The wife, Mrs. Julie, was a dear friend, but her husband, Brother Thomas, was abusive mentally, emotionally, sexually, and spiritually, but only physically abusive towards his family. Because I could not wrap my mind around another situation similar enough to my own experiences at the time, I wrote my letter as if to another girl under those mentors, since they took so many teenagers under their wings. Mrs. Julie especially took in young teen girls to help mentor and encourage them. Here is my letter as if to one of those girls. It has given me a sense of not being alone anymore, and even a shift in perspective to potentially helping others. I can see another girl and have compassion on her, rather than my own tendency to say, “I should have known. I should have seen it. Why did I not just get out?” It has helped to have compassion on myself and it was key to starting inner child work.

Dear Sister,

I pray this letter finds you well, or so I hope. Prayer isn’t really a thing for me these days. How about you?

They wanted us to meet up with their standard of living and godliness, but it was a standard that could never be attained. She loved us dearly, but she was likely too entrenched in survival mode and self-presentation to see the damage it caused: that intense feeling of failure, mounted with sheer guilt and shame. I know the mask and I know the pain. I feel that hurt. But you’re not alone. You weren’t alone then and you’re not alone now.

He couldn’t have cared less with the facade he put on, somehow greater than his weight [He was easily 400lbs or more and used it for intimidation]. Remember Rachel? Remember Amanda? Rachel had the guts to stand and Mrs. Julie protected Amanda from him. I don’t know what all you went through, but I know the loss of innocence. I know the fears and panic from everyday things that others do not understand.

I still sit through church services nervous and terrified. I never know what the man [preacher] is going to say or when the skeletons will show. Every message is a reminder of my failure. But it’s not a failure. You’re not a failure. You are strong for continuing on. You are strong for getting out when you did, no matter how long that took.

The crazy is over and now it’s picking up the pieces and finding joy in life again somehow. It’s finding purpose again outside the crazy. It’s not as simple as brushing your shoulders off, but it’s a day by day, moment by moment process.

“God’s crazy about you”…. Remember? She may have said it, but it hasn’t changed. I don’t understand how God works anymore, but somewhere the Bible says that God is love, and He loves you with an everlasting love.

The journey ahead is long, but it’s not your fault. You’re beautiful. You’re amazing because you are fearfully and wonderfully made. In college, I thought it would be better if a car swerved and hit me because I would no longer be the reason they were hurting, but someone shared that verse with me and told me that the rest of my life that didn’t happen would be the wonder of God’s work on me. Marvelous are thy works. That’s you.

It feels like my marriage is messed up many days because of what happened, but you know what? A real man isn’t like Thomas. He cares and he stays. He loves and encourages. In marriage, we support each other through the good and bad times.

I don’t have the answers for Bible reading, church, prayer, soul-winning, communication or authority. Submission is all jacked up. But some day, we can be stronger for it somehow. Someday, we can help someone else because of what we’ve been through and cannot change.

God will judge him someday if no one gets to him first. And even if they do, God will still judge him someday. Maybe then he will know where to stick that stupid pig, chicken and rooster.

You’ll find friends again. You’ll learn to trust again as you learn about healthy boundaries (highly recommend “Boundaries” by Henry Cloud 🙂 ).

You’re loved. And you’re not alone. Hang in there. You’re stronger than you feel.

Chloe

*For more art therapy ideas from Managing Traumatic Stress through Art, check out the full list of exercises from the blog post: “Managing Traumatic Stress Through Art.“

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Art Therapy Toolbox: Anatomy of Self-Care

Plunging deep into the plush couch cushions, nothing beats the cozy holiday flavor of warm chai rooibos tea on a late night after the children are finally asleep, watching re-runs of Little House on the Prairie while drifting off to dream land. Yeah, right. If only it were truly quiet and serene in the dark hours of night. Real life is more like flopping down onto the torn vinyl couch, wearing a vomit-stained shirt and the hideous pants dear mother-in-law gifted us at Christmas time that were now the only clean pair left in the house, and bawling my eyes out for the third time. The entire container of creamy chocolate and peanut butter ice cream, purchased just yesterday, is almost devoured, and surely, I did not consume both two-liter bottles of mountain dew in a forty-eight hour period by myself! The empty box of snack cakes is part of maintaining my girlish figure, complimenting my pro-wrestling abilities to get two active toddlers and an infant to sleep within the last half-hour before midnight!

And forget Little House on the Prairie. I need “Grey’s Anatomy”- McDreamy, McSteamy, the works!- “How to Get Away with Murder”, and literally ANYTHING that is not Elmo, considering that the little minions will all be awake for church and jumping on my bed in a mere five hours. All I want is sleep; pure, precious, seven-days-worth of sleep. Even if I slept for a month, however, I would not truly feel rested because I am more than just physically exhausted. I am drained mentally and emotionally, continually walking a tight rope between anxiety and depression, juggling diapers and ministry while avoiding triggers and trying to move forward with life. What I need are ways to care for myself throughout the day so I can do more than simply manage and “get through” with yet another bowl of ice cream.

This exercise begins by asking what your self-care truly looks like and how it has changed since the occurrence of trauma(s). In my life, I drastically shifted towards stress-eating enormous amounts of sweets, while compulsively working, planning and cleaning when I could be sleeping, and curling up on my bed as often as possible because I was not ready to deal with the day. I have almost all together given up on make-up and looking at least half-way put together when I walk out the door, and time to myself is a rare gem. The assignment challenged me to look for pictures that represent people, places, things, ideas, locations, etc. that can enhance my overall well-being. Now, as with any of the previous art exercises, I have dreaded searching through magazines, but once again, this technique has proven not only beneficial, but valuable. Rather than limiting self-care ideas to baths and long walks, I realized that I specifically need to be outdoors, around people and pets despite my enhanced fears of social settings, especially in church, and I remembered that I truly love music. Our old church was against everything except for hymns too old for copyright and melodic remembrance, while encouraging isolation limited to an encompassing gossip circle more intricate than politics during election year. I needed out of the house and I needed freedom. I wanted to look beautiful again and feel beautiful again, whether that was modern clothing, understanding make-up, wearing jewelry, or simply putting on some high heels (aka “prostitute shoes” according to my old mentor).

My favorite part of the pictures I found, however, are the pants that say, “Made You Look!” Just before creating this picture, I finally stepped out of my comfort zone of legalistic dress standards and bought a dark blue pair of boot-cut jeans and guess what? People did not stare at me because I was different. People did not automatically assume that I hated their guts. And guess what else? I felt alive. From there, I started a strict diet and workout, resulting in losing almost thirty pounds in two months. I felt human again, but more than that, I felt like I was learning who I was again apart from the cult-crazy. And taking care of myself through the day made life’s difficulties a little more manageable. Oh, and while I was not comfortable with dancing beforehand, I have found that baltering – dancing artlessly, without particular grace or skill, but with enjoyment- allows me to dance off loads of stress and connect with my inner child again.

*For more art therapy ideas from Managing Traumatic Stress through Art, check out the full list of exercises from the blog post: “Managing Traumatic Stress Through Art.“

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Soothing the Wounded Innocence

Skipping briskly across the lawn to the growing pile of leaves, her blonde, wavy hair whisks along the curves of her cheeks, lining the grin ever-present on her face. Old torn jeans- one of many ripped and destroyed from countless hours of bike riding, tree-climbing, and mud-pie making- hang down along her scrawny preschool legs and butt-less thighs. How she loves raking the autumn into the largest mountains her scraggly little arms can manage, only to trail-back several feet, pause for a moment, and race toward the colorful peaks, pouncing into the mess of twigs and bugs, as ungracefully as possible, of course. As she stands up and brushes herself off, she slightly adjusts the lacy pink bow in her hair before preparing another pile to demolish. But what happened to this child of yesterday? Where did her joy and innocence go? How did a few years of mental, emotional, and spiritual abuse rip it all away, never caring for the pain and scars left behind?

Late last year, I walked into my therapist’s office, planning on giving a general overview of situations growing up, a mere highlight reel of sorts to give a baseline understanding of the overwhelming issues and struggles left from three years with my mentors in high school and early college. Certain questions were bound to come up and I simply wanted to get them out on the table in order to move forward with working through the trauma of the abuse. What I did not realize was that all of those situations left huge wounds that were never fully healed, seemingly leaving me open and vulnerable to the abuse to come. I did not realize that I would have to go back through each one and soothe that hurting inner child, which is, as I understand it, the subconscious halted at various stages of maturity because of the wounds inflicted and endured.

My hurting inner child in high school, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, is the first one I could see and connect with. She is the one in the middle of the abuse with my mentors. Anytime I see her, she is alone on her bed, often siting with arms wrapped around her knees, deep in thought, or hands attempting to cover the tears streaming down her cheeks. She has told me often, “It is never enough” and “the crazy never ends. There’s always more.” In frustration, trying relentlessly and desperately to simply do right, she feels like a failure, constantly the reason for the pain of those around her. She feels betrayed by those closest to her and the hurt runs deep.

My preschooler, approximately four or five years old, made me extremely hesitant. I knew the pain she would suffer and endure, but more than that, I was ashamed of her. She kept telling me she did not know it was wrong. In the mind of an innocent four-year-old, she did not know the turmoil to come from those actions, yet she was continually blamed for them.

My middle-schooler, about seventh or eighth grade, is hurting. She is the one that is ashamed. She feels like a failure who already ruined her life before it even started. I tell her she’s beautiful, and yet she hits my hand away. She does not think she is attractive. She does not believe she is intelligent anymore. And she does not think anyone would love her for who she is. She feels confused, overwhelmed, and alone. She longs for an understanding friend.

I am learning, slowly, that it is my job to be “mom” to those parts of myself growing that still need comfort. It is my job to be their best friend, protector, and guide. They need to be told that they are loved and lovely, that God made them perfect. That I am sorry I did not protect them before, but I am here now and I am not going anywhere, ever. I am teaching them healthy boundaries, and that their privacy is a boundary to be respected. I am teaching them about self-worth. One of the biggest things right now, however, is telling them that no matter what happens, I am right here, and always will be.

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Art Therapy Toolbox: Getaway Guidebook

If you could go on vacation anywhere you wanted, where would you go? Would it be the warm, sunny beaches of Hawaii or the Caribbean? The tantalizing, exquisite tastes of Italy or Greece? Maybe more of a rugged adventure in the Outback like the Crocodile Hunter? But then again, how is your work schedule? Do you own your own business or does your boss keep you late? How are your finances? The average person simply does not have the funds and the paid-time off to simply take off work on a whim to take an international excursion or a getaway to some remote area of the country. Some have children and pets to care for, or a house and vehicle to look after. Some cannot get away from their classroom or business for more than a few hours, only to attempt a decent night’s sleep. This exercise is designed to facilitate the opportunity for mental “mini-vacations” through the hum and drum of life when a vacation would not otherwise be possible.

Much like the Sensory Relief exercise, this one involves searching through magazines to find locations, places and settings that one finds peaceful or exhilarating, where one would love to go on a vacation. When using the Sensory Relief book, I found that I loved nature and preferred going to a different environment, rather than simply experimenting with the olfactory or auditory senses. Rather than imagining biting into a soft, double chocolate-chip cookie with a crispy outside and delicious, melting chocolate chunks throughout, I found it more effective, personally, to allow my mind to wander to the front of a cozy fireplace, wrapped up safely in a thick, fuzzy blanket.

I cheated a little by searching online for settings that I knew were comforting, rather than searching through magazines, but at this point, I knew what I needed. I needed nature or the hidden comforts of home. Sitting in a church service about evangelism, yet another trigger to my past, I could open the miniature version of my Getaway Guidebook in my purse and escape to this path in the woods where leaves decorated the trail, painted in vast array of fall colors. I could hear them crunch under my feet with every step, ever-so-gingerly approaching the coarse wooden bridge and peering over in awe. I could feel the autumn breeze against my cheeks, relieving the tightness in my chest with the crisp morning dew. While we cannot always take a vacation when we want to, this Getaway Guidebook establishes the opportunity to take a mental getaway for five, ten, fifteen minutes, or more as possible.

*For more art therapy ideas from Managing Traumatic Stress through Art, check out the full list of exercises from the blog post: “Managing Traumatic Stress Through Art.“

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Art Therapy Toolbox: Paving the Way

Where do you see yourself in terms of healing by next month? What about in six months or a year? Five years? Ten years? I saw myself still struggling but hopefully managing better. Not long before this exercise, I finally accepted that depression, anxiety, complex PTSD, triggers, intrusive thoughts and an emotional roller coaster were simply my lot in life, one I may have to deal with until the day I die. I stopped fighting its existence and settled on simply managing. This exercise has been a challenge in terms of realizing and accepting that there truly CAN BE a point of healing. After all the counsel I had received with little progress in nine years, five years of rotating therapists thanks to a government system, my current and absolutely amazing therapist thinking I was mentally healthy- until it all became visible with the next drama-filled, controlling church situation, that is!- and all of the messages on “whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content” (KJV, Philippians 4:11), I gave up hope of having my life back. But this exercise gave me a light at the end of the tunnel, a path laden with stepping stones to get there. I could visibly see the areas I needed to develop in to get to where I wanted to be mentally, emotionally, and hopefully, spiritually.

Trauma affects our inner strengths: while some are hindered or seem to disappear, others are strengthened or even created as a result. Certain strengths are particularly helpful with managing stress, especially traumatic stress, and this exercise allows one to create a symbolic path of current strengths and important strengths to develop while moving from the traumatic situation to mental and emotional wellness. With a provided list of inner strengths in hand for ideas and support, I was to choose between five and ten strengths that I currently possess and then describe on paper how they have been affected by my traumatic experiences as well as ones that formed because of them. Later in the exercise, I was to take colored stones and coordinate each one with the inner strengths that I already possess:

- - Strong-will: I am more compassionate towards others, but even-more ready to fight for others and sometimes myself.
    Color Choice: Red- Important but can be dangerous
  - Encourager: I must spend more time caring for myself and my children now than before and I am often discouraged, but I still try to encourage others when I can.
    Color Choice: Blue- Calm, ethos
  - Organizational Skills (new): This has greatly developed as a result of attempting to manage anxiety through obsessive compulsive tendencies.
    Color Choice: Orange- more OCD-based, requires a lot of energy and attention
  - Sensitivity to others: I have always been sensitive to noticing the emotional and circumstantial struggles of others, but I am even more aware. I am now, however, more guarded of my own emotions and struggles.
    Color Choice: Darker Purple- ethos, feelings
  - Curiosity: I am now much more careful.
    Color Choice: Yellow- inquisitive
  - Honesty: This one has been greatly strengthened. I hate being lied to or deceived.
    Color Choice: Green- pure
  - Integrity: When I completed this, I wrote “questionable,” but truly, I have a strong desire to do right, just not under the confines of legalism. I need to figure out what is right in freedom versus what is actually sin.
    Color Choice: Pink- raw
  - Optimism/Innocence (on initial list of affected strengths but not on picture): Basically gone.

Now that I can visibly see a list of my strengths, rather than just the areas I felt like I had failed, the authors provide a list of inner strengths that are key to progressing towards wellness. I was to create several “stepping stones” and chose colors to correspond with the inner strengths already listed directly in the exercise (Managing Traumatic Stress Through Art, Page 28):

- - “Determination to overcome the trauma (Red)
  - Will to struggle and succeed (Orange)
  - Faith in myself and supportive others (Yellow)
  - Courage to explore circumstances and aftereffects of my trauma (Green)
  - Responsibility to meet my personal needs (Pink for vulnerability)
  - Creativity to imagine inner balance (Light purple)
  - Resilience to inner stress (Light blue- requires calmness)
  - Open-mindedness for growth (Yellow- requires optimism)”

While I certainly did not have faith in myself and supportive others, resilience for inner stress, or even the creativity to imagine inner balance, there were several I could see that I already possessed: determination to overcome the trauma, open-mindedness for growth, and working on being responsible to meet my personal needs. Others were just starting to grow: courage to explore the circumstances and aftereffects, and a will to struggle and succeed. I was nowhere near ready for some, but I was surprised to realize that I was already cultivating several of these strengths even though others seemed impossible to obtain.

Finally, I was to design a path that was symbolic of my own recovery process. For me, that path is not straight, but rather winding with twists and curves. It goes to the right, then the left, and back towards the right again. I pictured a traffic circle that looped back to itself, never sure if there would be anything productive or harmful on a given path under already chosen. I chose a snake to represent my trauma, the trauma that started with my mentor’s husband and the hours of mental, emotional and spiritual abuse that went on for years. The hardest part, however, was choosing a symbol to represent “a state of well-being.” Was this even possible? What does it look like? Can I really get from that snake to a place of actually living and enjoying life, a place of spiritual health? I finally settled on a multi-colored heart to represent the various facets of a healthy mental state. I can still only wonder how that time will feel and what it will be like. I am around the middle of my path, unsure of what direction to go in, but I can see those traits I need to develop on the way. I can see the ones that I still have or ones that have resulted because of the trauma. I am not a failure without any character simply because I struggle to read the Bible and pray. But being able to read and pray is definitely one of my future goals for wellness, as is a healthy self-esteem and confidence in how God has made me.

*For more art therapy ideas from Managing Traumatic Stress through Art, check out the full list of exercises from the blog post: “Managing Traumatic Stress Through Art.“

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