Intimidation & Control

 To those of you who are survivors of abuse, did your abuser ever use an animal that you loved to intimidate or control you?  The reason I ask is because the more I share or talk about my abuse, the more memories that I've since forgotten suddenly come to mind.  You see, for so long, my normal was a skewed view of what other people may consider normal.  Looking back, how my abuser used my cat against me wasn't a "normal" behavior.  I’m very curious if others have had a similar experience, and if that's a common thing for abusers to do to their victim?

When I was 4 years old, my mom had given me a kitten from the pound that I named Gladys (I really have no idea where I came up with that name). She was my cat.  During all the years I endured the late-night sexual abuse by my stepmonster, my cat would stay by my side the entire time - she would never leave even when he tried to make her leave.  This is heartbreaking to talk about for me even now, but I would hold her tiny paw in my hand and just focus on her and try so very hard to pretend that nothing was happening to me.  She was always of great comfort my entire childhood as you would expect.  I felt as though she was an angel ministering to me during my darkest hours and a watcher over me.  The connection I had with this animal was more than I can even put to words.

I believe now that my abuser knew the connection I had with this animal and would use my cat as leverage to control or intimidate me - giving me the message that he could also harm her if I wasn't a good girl to him.  He would throw her on the roof all the time.  I would cry and beg him not to, but he would just laugh at me.  He also would kick at her, throw and/or slap her hard off of things she was laying or sitting on.  And more disturbing to me as a little girl was when he would also grab her and act like he was choking her - there were times it sounded as though he was really hurting her. 

Sadly, Gladys died the summer I turned 16.  I had her the entire duration of my abuse.  She died from feline leukemia (as things went for me, this was the same year they came out with the vaccine – naturally).  Interestingly, it would seem that after my stepmonster was pulled from my house and made to leave, she was relieved of her duty to watch over me and was freed - she died shortly after.  I find cats very comforting to this day.  Those of you who don't like cats, maybe you can better relate to a dog or some other thing, but I think any animal you are close to can give you a sense of comfort.  Animals have that gift it would seem…

Secrets & the Unknown

It's really hard for me to deal with secrets and the unknown.  I remember the obvious abuse that happened to me at the hands of my stepmonster, but there are times I feel I may not remember everything about that.  I get worn down by secrets and not knowing what really happened to me growing up - the full picture.  Some tell me to let it go, but I can't.  I know it wasn't a great childhood, in fact, many would say horrific, but I still don't have the full picture of what happened to me.  I want to know and feel I have a right.  I'm not angry at them, I just want honesty, and I want answers. 

I keep finding out little things about my childhood that I've never known.  When I actually gain information from family members, my reaction is one of shock and relief.  Things make a little more sense, but then I go back to shock again.  How I was treated as a child is deplorable, but here I am in one piece - shockingly doing okay in my life.  Who was that little girl and what happened to her?  I struggle for answers.  Not many family members are willing to talk about it.  They tell me that's all water under the bridge - well, it's water under my bridge and I don't know anything.  Tired of people protecting me for what they think is for "my good."

I recently found out from my father that my mom used to give me vodka when I was a baby because she thought it was funny.  When I was 2, my dad came home after work one day and he said I was a limp noodle or a wet rag.  He was so upset that he wanted to take me to the hospital.  My mother said I'd be fine and that she'd only given me vodka - she thought it was funny.  He insisted and I was looked over by a doctor.  The doctor could smell the alcohol on my breath.  My dad said that I was taken away from both of them for a bit and lived with my aunt.  I remember living with my aunt, but didn't ever know why.  This explains it.  I would live with family off and off in my life because my mom would drink herself to death and end up in the hospital numerous times. 

I remember a few years ago my aunt telling me a few stories over tea about when I was really little.  She seemed very uneasy talking to me about it because she didn't want to betray my mother, said that those stories were for another time.  She did say that when I had come to her house to stay as a little girl, I was just skin and bones - as though I'd not been fed or taken care of.  This is upsetting, but why would my mother do this?  My mom used to tell me I used to be her "torture doll" and that she was mean to me.  She was surprised (and relieved) I didn't remember.  

I'm on a mission to fill in the pieces of my childhood, and to learn more about what happened to the little girl I was.  From what I've experienced and remember as a little girl, and from what other family members tell me, it's a miracle that I am the woman I am today.  I never once gave up, I never tanked my life and I rose above the statistic of what I "could" have been.  Other survivors who are walking this path CAN do the same...

Abuse - EVEN in Your Neighborhood

There was an older lady that thanked me for sharing my painful story with them at a regional Kiwanis meeting I did a presentation for this evening.  She recently became aware of the prevalence of child abuse.  I will never forget what she told me so I’m passing this along...

She said that there was a group that came to speak about child abuse at another function she was at. The speaker had challenged all of them to step outside their house and to stand in the middle of their street – turn a circle and look as far as her eye could see down her own street in either direction – statistically, at least 2 children were being abused in her neighborhood. She did in fact do what the speaker had suggested, but still could not believe that a child on “her” street in her “good” neighborhood would be suffering abuse. She told her husband that she just couldn’t believe this to be true. A few weeks later, she saw police cars at a house diagonal from her’s. A boy had been sexually abused for years by his father. She felt great guilt and pain for this little boy. It wasn’t until that moment that it hit so “close to home” she believed. 

Friends, this is real and there is STILL a problem. Be aware… If you suspect child abuse, please report it to your local authorities. 

Fighting for Hope

In this picture, you see a 9 year old little girl.  What you don’t see is that by this point in her life, she had been sexually and physically abused by her stepfather for over five years (and will endure another 7).  She didn’t know any other kind of life.  The only safe place for her to think and reflect was on the roof of her home.
 

But she never, ever gave up on herself—or on life.  She had amazing fortitude.  I know this because I am the little girl on the roof in this picture.

This photo, as you can imagine, is hard for me to look at.  I just want to grab her (my child self), hug her tight, and tell her she will be okay.  Tell her that she will rise above the ugliness that she is going through—that the woman she will become will be a fierce advocate for children who are survivors of abuse.

Unfortunately, this topic is hard for people to wrap their minds around. It makes them feel squeamish when it’s brought up.  But this is real, and it’s happening to children at an alarming rate.  It’s heartbreaking. 
 

Our mission at Sparks of Hope is to help these hurting children see a brighter future filled with joy.  Simply, a life of hope.
 

~ Lee Ann Mead

My Best Friend & Hero Passed Away...

Carrie Poston changed my life.  My childhood/adult best friend, Carrie Poston, I owe so much to. It is because of her courage that the childhood sex abuse I endured for many, many years finally stopped.  Her parents Gary and Charlene Poston listened and believed her when she couldn't take it any more!  In so many ways, her legacy will live on through me, my story, and the organization I created.  She was that spark of hope in my life that forever changed my future.  My words reiterated below – my hero – tragically gone too soon…

Today we celebrate her life at her memorial...

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June 15, 2012

There are no words to describe my heartache this evening.  My childhood friend of many years passed away today.  We had gone through so much friendship, love and heartache.  Though her choices broke us apart and much like her family I had to choose the road of "tough love" with her.  It doesn't make it feel any better.  Six and a half years ago I had to turn her away because of her drug addiction.  I told her that what she was doing to me was not healthy and that I couldn't give her any more money - this cycle had gone on for quite a few years.  She would come to the house and ask for money to feed her addiction.  I had to stop enabling and I told her not to come back until she was clean.  I never saw her again, but twice on the streets of downtown Portland, driving to or from work.  It was heartbreaking for me to see her in that way - much by her choice er parents recently told me.  I carry great guilt always questioning if I'd done enough.  You see, something happened to her too - she was raped when she was 19.  She didn't handle it well and turned to drugs and alcohol.  I tried to stop her, but I didn't really know the entire story of how much she was using drugs because she hid it from me and hid it very well.  There were many time periods in our lives where she seemed fine and was coping well.  It wasn't really until our late 20s and early 30s that I figured out she was doing more than the small stuff.  She became a slave to some nasty drugs that you can get hooked on for a lifetime the very firs time you try it.  I never, ever thought I'd see her in this way.  I'm so saddened by this and hurt that she chose that road. 

There are so many good memories I dwell on now because the memories of hurt are so small compared to the joyous ones.  It's not every day you run into real life heroes.  Well, I had one as a best friend.  I will forever remember her bravery and her courage.  She stood up to a monster and said "NO - not one more day will I allow my friend to be abused!"  She had the courage that I could never find.  She saved me from a 12-year hell and told my secret.  I learned this accidentally one day.  She mentioned it in a casual conversation when I was in my early 30s.  For most of my life, I had never known it was her.  She said that she kept it from me because she thought I'd be mad that she betrayed my trust.  All I could do was jump up and give her a joyous hug and I sat there in shock.  

Carrie, I only wish that I could have saved you from your addiction and pain - saved you the way that you did for me.  I'm so sorry... 

I loved your laugh - it was contagious, and your beautiful smile - it lite up a room.  I loved your warm hugs and your notes you'd leave in places around the house that only I would find.  May you finally rest in peace and in our lord's arms, my friend.  I will see you again one day, but until then, give my momma, grandma and all my other loved ones a hug for me.

FORGIVENESS

1 year ago today was the last day I saw my mother alive.  I never thought I’d say goodbye so soon.

In all the days leading up to her death in the ICU, when she was conscious, she would never watch me walk out the door.  I thought it was odd.  I’d walk all the way to the other side of the ICU to the door and look back and her eyes were someplace else– until the day before her passing.  

It had been approximately 3 weeks in ICU.  March 16, 2011 was like any other day at the hospital.  I came to visit her once again on my lunch hour and I did all the talking of course as she couldn’t speak.  I kept telling her to fight and she would mouth the words that she was trying.  She was interested in everything I said as I talked about the kids and what I felt was the “boring” stuff, but she listened intently.  The time for our visit was up and I had to go back to work.  I kissed her goodbye on the cheek and walked out the door.  As I turned back to look as I always did, she was actually watching me leave.  I waved and blew a kiss.  Looking back on it now, I’m pretty sure she knew her time was short, but any novice to the medical field wouldn’t know otherwise.  Mom worked in the medical field – she knew – she knew she was in trouble and fighting for her life.  She lost her life’s fight a day later on March 17, 2011, but won a new life in the kingdom of heaven.    

Forgiveness:

My mother spent most of my adult life after she became sober trying to make up for all the wrongs she had caused in my life, including her not protecting me when I was a child/teenager from my  abusing stepfather.   I had been angry at her off and on as I grew older and had my own kids.  How could a mother allow her daughter to be sexually abused for 12 years?!  She chose alcohol over me most of my childhood.  As you would imagine, we had our ups and downs, but healing was really happening in my relationship with her.  It was only when I started to let go of the anger, healing really started to set in.  I had every right to be angry, but it wasn’t doing me any good.  The anger started to subside and forgiveness started making its way into my life and my relationship with my mother started changing in a good way.  She often said she knew there would be days that I’d be so angry at her, that I may not want anything to do with her.  I had many of those days and she took all my anger knowing it was her's to bear.  She was patient - never expecting forgiveness, but praying it would happen one day.  That “one day” was March 17, 2011.  Hours before her death, I told her I forgave her for not being the mother she needed to be for me, but thanking her for trying to be the one she knew she needed to be when I was an adult. 

What she suffered in the last 20 days of her life, more than made up for the wrong she ever did in her life.  

Everyone walks their own journey of healing from abuse, and the timing of when or if you want to forgive someone who has harmed you is clearly up to you and yours to give - you hold the power of forgiveness.  Sometimes we hold onto that power because we were powerless at one point in our life ...   If you are struggling with forgiveness, I've been there.  It's not something that you have to do - it's your choice.  It's not something that comes easy, but it's something that you eventually need to do for you.  It's really all on you and if you want to be free.  It doesn't mean you forget - you are letting go of the hold it had on you.  I get that if you were horribly harmed, you deserve by all rights to be angry.  At what cost though are you wiling to keep it?  Holding on to anger, resentment, and all that garbage only damages you NOT the person who did the harm - trust me, I know this!  If you want to be set free and find joy and peace, I encourage you with all my heart.  You'll know when it's time.  When you've had enough and feel empty and unhappy and it's eating you inside, then it's time... think of it as more of a selfceare for yourself.  YOU deserve to be happy, joyful and free!  If you are struggling, this is a great music video: Forgiveness  I encourage you to watch it.