I am a survivor of extremely severe ritualistic childhood abuse and sadistic systematic torture. This blog has helped me get my voice back and documents the journey I'm on to heal from the trauma and damage caused by that appalling abuse. Now is the time for me to tell of MY experience by speaking the truth about MY life. I will be silenced no more! On this blog I share MY life, MY healing journey; helpful quotes/stuff I come across and MY thoughts along the way. The more I speak out the more liberated I am from the shame and trauma of the abuse. My broken wings are gradually being repaired. Without God in my life I wouldn't still be here. But somehow, I keep on staying alive, surviving and rarely, occasionally, living a little!

Sunday, 16 November 2014


"The idea that anyone is required to forgive their abuser is vapid, toxic nonsense. You’re the one who got hurt. YOU get to decide what your attitude is toward the person who hurt you."

That quote comes from a fantastic article about forgiveness for child abuse survivors on this website -



There is very helpful information about what trauma does to the brain and to chemical balances in the brain + body in people affected by PTSD



The Amygdala is the part of the brain which plays the primary role in memory, decision making and emotional reaction. 
Damage to this part of the brain is thought to be behind Post Traumatic Stress Disorder leading to symptoms like fragmented memory.


I am slowly feeling increasingly safe at home, in therapy, with people I know are safe people, when playing pool, when swimming, when down my tree - I'm learning that it's ok to figure out ways that enable me to do things + manage to feel some degree of safety when doing things outside of my home, and it's also ok to acknowledge how rare that "feeling safe" is in my life.

It's also ok to remember why it is so difficult for me to feel safe. 

There was no safe adult during my childhood. 

There was no real safe place during childhood either. 

I wasn't safe in the house. 

I wasn't safe in my bed. 

I wasn't safe with my parents.

I wasn't safe with my brother.

I wasn't safe with my grandfather.

I wasn't safe with my grandmother.

I wasn't safe with their paedophile friends.

I wasn't safe with the police either.

The only place I was safe was when I was kicked out and wandering the streets. Then it was all about being hyper-alert to threats.

It's great that I am beginning to find safe places for myself in adulthood.

I think it's fab that I am finding safe people too and trusting my gut intuition about people.

It's been quite eye-opening to me that there are safe men in the world and that there are safe women too.

It's ok for me to acknowledge when someone or something doesn't feel safe to me and to back off or hold back.