Absolutes

When you see life in terms of absolutes, it's easy to experience your world as being narrow and small. Simple and exclusive. Now don't get me wrong. I think there are many things that are absolute and must be absolutely complied with. Gravity is absolute and if I don't work within the constraints of that absolute, I'll fall off of a building. However, within that absolute is the possibility to harness it, work with it through the laws of physics, and temporarily postpone the "must come down" side of the "what goes up" proverb (What goes up - must come down). We can fly - but only with our machines and our understanding of how to suspend falling - or how to control it.

Abuse survivors are - more often than not - people who thrive on absolutes. Life is black and white. Things are right or wrong. In fact, most of us live as if life is just one giant binary code - yes or no. On or off. Zero or one. It's easier that way. It gives you a sense of having control and staying within range of what is comfortable for you. The problem is that this absolute way of thinking and being can turn you into a rigid person who is incapable of growth and incapable of fully participating in the richness of life.

Don’t get me wrong. I think it is VERY important to know what your personal standards are, to hold firmly to your faith, and to be clear about your values. At the same time, you must develop the ability to hear others, to consider different perspectives, and to respectfully engage in ideas that challenge you. Abuse creates a distortion of ideas and perspectives. It fortifies the damage by pummeling you with false shame, a false sense of responsibility for what happened, and a distorted interpretation of what happened to your body. One thing that keeps wrong thinking firmly intact is rigid absolutes.

You might see people as all bad or all good. You might also think of yourself as either hideous or glorious. Perhaps you smother everyone you know or you push them away. These are the kinds of absolutes that prevent your movement beyond abuse. You interpret the actions of others as being a direct threat or challenge if there's disagreement or difference. You carry the weight of the world on your own shoulders because you're certain no one else can do it. You think everyone is out to get you or that everything is a threat.

Growth takes place when you discover the world is larger than your absolutes. Only when you begin to challenge these absolutes - many of them based on the lies from abuse - will your unclenched fist flower into an open palm, ready to receive the truth of who God made you to be and the freedom to live without being bound by binary thinking. Even if you never waiver from your beliefs or your practices, to live those beliefs out in a world that you understand to be different from you is a huge mark of maturity, particularly for an abuse survivor.

Abuse restricts a survivor’s view of self and others. Growth beyond abuse enlarges that vista so that the color grey is recognized between black and white, the word "maybe" is an option between yes and no, and that right is sometimes wrong, as the apostle Paul observed when he wrote, "Everything is permissible - but not everything is beneficial. Everything is permissible - but not everything is constructive." (1 Corinthians 10:23). Growth beyond abuse is possible with absolutes are replaced with firm convictions, when personal empowerment is dependent on how you think of yourself, not what others think of you, and when you celebrate diversity without compromising your personal integrity.

Resurrection Scars

The events of Easter weekend commemorate something bloody, disturbing, traumatizing, and terrifying. From the outside looking in, a relatively harmless, obscure man was abandoned by his friends, kissed in a way that brought condemnation and wounding, betrayed by his religion, tortured by society, sold out by those in power, and assassinated by all who were involved. He faced all of this alone, without any kind of emotional or practical support. He was just one of thousands who faced similar fates during that era in history. The waking nightmare was so hellish, that this man even felt abandoned by God, which led him to cry out to a silent sky "My God! My God! Why have your forsaken me?"

No matter how you spin the story, it is cruel and barbaric. And yet, over the next few days, millions of people will revisit it in vivid detail, and in that, they will draw enormous comfort and hope. The reason for this includes the torture and assassination of Christ - that part of the story can't be discounted. But the comfort doesn't come because of the events remembered on Good Friday. The comfort comes from the events remembered on Easter morning.

If you think about it, Christ was Creator embedded in Creation. The creative energy of everything that exists, existed in this star-man. It stands to reason that the exquisite wonder of creativity had no choice but to once again bring life where there was none - to bring order out of chaos - to bring love and peace out of cruel torment - to bring light out of darkness. We call it the Resurrection.

To me, the wonder of Easter - the miracle of the Resurrection - isn't that it happened. I think the greater mystery is that it took three days! That it didn't happen in an instant. That there was a savoring of death before there was the re-creation of life.

If you read my book - No Longer Alone - I spend a great deal of time discussing the affinity that Christ has with abuse survivors, and vice versa. Creator embedded in Creation gave people an intimate glimpse into God's heart - One filled with love, One who values peace and justice, One who makes it abundantly clear that each of us has value, potential, and limitless life. People experienced something new when they encountered Christ. I also believe that God experienced something new when he encountered us.

There's a further insight that I believe Easter weekend can offer to abuse survivors, which I mentioned earlier. After all the horrors of Friday, after the heart-shattering trauma, Christ waited. His resurrection didn't happen immediately. Even knowing the beginning from the end, he remained in the vacuum of trauma and death for awhile - languishing in the dark unknown.

Why? Why didn't the resurrection occur as soon as he was pried off the cross? Why didn't it take place when the stone was rolled in place? And finally, why is it important for you to see this as you approach Easter weekend - as you move through your own dark unknown, searching for life beyond abuse?

You can see your own experiences of abuse in the crucifixion of Christ. Betrayal. Affection being used as a weapon. Abandonment. Torture. Injustice. Isolation. Shame. Exposure. Humiliation. Feeling completely separated from God. Those are some of the more obvious experiences of commonality abuse survivors have with Creator embedded in Creation. But in that space between the trauma and the sunrise on the third day, there was a dark Saturday.

In your abuse recovery, there is the dark Saturday when all you can do is sit - even languish - with all that has been shattered. There is little comfort at this stage of recovery. It follows the "Why have you forsaken me?" terror and the "It is finished" conclusion. But the beauty of Christ - Creator embedded in Creation - is that we have been shown a way to move beyond what was done to us. This is an important thing to meditate on as you wait for that stone to be rolled away - as you wait to re-emerge as a shimmering being, so luminous that you absolutely know you have been given a new life. A life beyond abuse.

One final thing I'd like to point out as you approach Easter weekend. When Christ emerged from that tomb, he emerged with scars. The resurrection didn't eliminate the scars, but the scars no longer kept Christ entombed. Your scars won't either. They are what they are - scars. They are not an indication that you lack faith or that Christ hasn't done a deep work in you. They are scars. You have them, so did Christ. They are monuments of what you've suffered, but they are also monuments to where you are going - beyond the trauma - beyond the dark Saturday - beyond the stone as it rolls away.

This is Easter weekend. Grieve on Friday. Meditate on Saturday. Celebrate on Sunday. You walk on the same path that our Creator embedded in Creation walked - one beyond savage cruelty and toward love, joy, and peace that is beyond understanding. Happy Easter.

Dirty Little Secret

Abuse is possible when people take advantage of the power differential in their relationships in order to gratify themselves. In sexual abuse - it's sexual gratification. In physical and emotional abuse - it's power and control gratification.

Shame and fear are the lock and key that keep abuse secrets hidden. False blame and false responsibility create the shame and fear. After all, if you believe that something you did or didn't do caused the abuse to happen - then you can hardly justify asking for help. If you got a reward, got special treatment, or felt your first pleasurable sensation during abuse, then you can rationalize the false shame. These are just a few of the strong reasons that those dirty little secrets from your abuse occupy so much of your interior energy. They keep you in the perpetual mindset of victim - fearful, ashamed, and self-protective.

But I want to address another dirty little secret that perpetuates the cycle of abuse to another generation. That's the one that has to do with the way you treat people who depend on you - those who are small, weak, or incapable of fully caring for themselves.

I want to say this clearly. No matter how good your intentions are, no matter what kind of a childhood you had (be it good or bad), there are moments for all caregivers when they absolutely want to annihilate the little darlings that are theirs to care for. A child or vulnerable person's "job" is to push the boundaries in order to discover where they are and how to live within them. A caregiver's job is to create and enforce those boundaries, but to do so with flexibility, fairness, and a good dose of compassion and humor. BUT . . . and it's a big one . . . if we were all to be honest, there are just days when you're sure if you had a machine gune, you'd use it to level the entire neighborhood. The good news is that most of us don't act on that! The bad news is that we want to - or that we partially act on it with our words and actions.

As I said, abuse is possible because abusers misuse their power and control, and in doing so, take away the power and control of their victims. For the victim, that horrid sense of being powerless is almost unbearable. That out-of-control sense sets them up to seek out feelings of empowerment, but this is often done in a very unbalanced or irrational way. It is also done in a very secretive way.

When faced with a less powerful person who challenges you - challenges your authority, your agenda, or your expectations - you can find yourself in a complete, irrational rage. It is important that you recognize WHY this reaction is so intense: it is a trigger that re-attaches you to the horrid sense of being powerless. Your intense reaction could set the stage for YOU to become the aggressor/abuser, if you're not careful.

There is also another variation to this dynamic: that because you feel so helpless to handle the very normal challenges of being a caregiver, you can feel as if you're a helpless victim again. The only problem is that THIS time, you're not the child who was the victim of your abuser, but it may feel as if you're the victim of those who you're caregiver for. This is especially true when they express normal aggression or sexualized behavior. Because you may not have a sense of what is and isn't normal - it all feels very threatening to you, which can cause you to feel like you're being victimized by the ones you are caring for.

While there is much more to these possibilities than I have time to write about here, there is one important aspect to both of these responses. Whether you become the unbalanced, irrational aggressor or the unbalanced, irrational victim of those you care for, both of these responses become one more dirty little secret. Like the dirty little secrets of your own abuse, these are locked in and untended because of your own shame and fear.

The impact this has on your ability to appropriately care for others cannot be overstated. If you feel helpless, out-of-control, shame, and guilt - you're not going to reach out for help. You're not going to let someone who is experienced and wise guide you. You're not going to have access to resources to help you be an appropriate caregiver. You're not going to risk exposure, and in doing so, will cause tremendous damage to those in your care as well as to yourself.

Secrets trigger shame and terror. Wisdom and maturity are not easily threatened and are not afraid to say to others, "I need help! I don't know what I'm doing!" If we keep these kinds of dirty little secrets about our relationships with those we care for, there is a very real possibility that the cycles of dysfunction and even abuse will be perpetuated to the next generation.

Familiarity

A number of years ago, I was in Tajikistan teaching a seminar. If you don't know where that is, it borders Afghanistan and China - it was part of the former Soviet Union. The culture and language could not have been more different from mine. Of course, that's what I love about traveling - exposure to new and different experiences, traditions, and people. So there I was, the guest speaker - speaking through a Russian translator. As long as that translator was with me, I could function pretty well. But the true test came at my first meal with the group. I was on my own and no one was nearby who spoke English.

All eyes were on me. Everyone chattered and smiled. A large plate of osh - which is rice, chick peas, carrots, and a bit of meat, all fried together - was placed in the center of the table, along with a huge kettle of hot tea. We each had a bowl and a fork. Through grand motions from those around me, I figured out they were waiting on me to take the first bite. Sooooo . . . I took my fork and heaped the osh into my bowl. The minute I did that, the whole room erupted in laughter - which confused me greatly! Then, a kind young teenage girl pointed to her bowl, poured the tea in it, and plunged her fork into the mound of osh and took a bite. The bowl was for the hot tea! The fork was for me - and everyone else at the table with me - to eat from the common plate of osh! I truly felt like an outsider. It was fun for all of us, but still - I was profoundly aware that I had no idea what was being said, what the customs or practices were, and what was expected of me.

When you grow up in a dysfunctional home - especially where there is also abuse - that is your native culture. You know the customs, you know the language, and you know the rules. No mentor or translator is needed. You know what is expected of you and you know what to expect. Unhealthy, destructive, and self-defeating thoughts and patterns don't require any effort or thought. They're a natural outcome of your "normal."

Now, that doesn't mean that your "normal" makes you happy, keeps you healthy, or gives you peace. In fact, it is the intensity of pain, depression, rage, or self-sabotage that can eventually push you out into the unknown territory of healthy, functional people. But let me say this clearly - no matter how much you want to change, grow, and move on - the discomfort you feel because you're in a strange land - with strange language, customs, and expectations - that discomfort will be a force to contend with. This is especially true at first. That's why it's so difficult to move beyond abuse. It is completely foreign to you.

You may feel so alienated from a new, healthy way to live, think, and behave - that you run back to what you know best. Even though you tell yourself and God that you want to change - that you want to live a new way - when it comes to putting one foot in front of the other on this foreign soil - intentions can go right out the door. It can feel like you’re the center of attention in a room full of people who are nothing like you, and scooping osh into your teacup - never knowing it was meant for tea. But like my experience in Tajikistan, I've learned to accept the kindness and guidance of others who know what is appropriate.

Yes, it feels awkward at first. You might even be reluctant to ask for help or to watch the natives or use the few words of their language that you've picked up along the way. After all - if you admit you need that kind of assistance - you may find yourself back in the familiar state of feeling small, vulnerable, and out-of-control. That sensation alone, can be a trigger to send you packing back to the way it's always been. But growth is about risk-taking - GOOD risk-taking! Not the reckless, destructive risks that are part of dysfunction, but the risks to function in a new way that won't harm yourself or others.

Before you know it, you'll grow more at home in this new land. You won't be quite as homesick for sickness as you were at first. You'll learn to appreciate the new language, practices, and expectations of maturity and health. One thing I learned a long time ago about traveling. Find someone who knows the language and customs and stick close until you learn what you need to know. Then, venture out on your own and test those new phrases, those new ideas, and those new customs. It won't be long before you pour the tea in your bowl and dip your fork in that osh plate - and you won't even think twice about it!

The Screaming Other

I can have a calm exterior and you'd never know . . . just like other people never know about you. They don't hear it, but you do. I call it the "Screaming Other." You take an examination that you've studied and prepared for. The Screaming Other is yelling, "Failure! Looser!" You've lost weight and gotten some new clothes; the Screaming Other is calling you a fat slob. You confidently stand up for yourself, but the Screaming Other is chipping away at your strength. You share hope and faith with someone who struggles like you have, and the Screaming Other is calling you a hypocrite and a phony. You are sober and clean, but the Screaming Other is making so much noise in your head, you wonder if going back to drugs or cutting or risky sex wouldn’t just be easier. You work hard to get an education and professional skills, but when you sit with your peers, the Screaming Other is telling you that you don't really belong there and everyone knows it.

The Screaming Other has one goal: to continue the destructive work of abuse. It makes sure that the lies that felt like the truth when you were small and vulnerable, still push you aside and shred you to ribbons. I say this often, but it bears repeating: abuse causes the lies to feel like the truth, and the truth to feel like a lie.

The lies from abuse are deeply embedded in how you think, feel, and interpret events and people around you. Some of these lies include the belief that you're disposable or unwanted, that you're never going to be good enough, that no matter how hard you work, you'll always be a second-class person.

Over the years, I've had to get pretty aggressive with the Screaming Other. I remember one particular retreat I taught many years ago. I was going through some very tough spiritual growth that left me feeling shaken and unclear about some fundamental issues. That's the way it goes sometimes, even when you lead the charge, you can still find yourself slugging it out with your personal issues. During this retreat, I did what I always do - I shared the love of Christ, pointed the way to hope and peace, and taught with every ounce of strength I could find. Throughout the ENTIRE three days there was the Screaming Other yelling non-stop in my ear, "Liar! Liar! Liar!" And I was mentally and spiritually screaming back, "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" It was exhausting, but I worked hard not to lose my focus which would have robbed me and the retreat participants.

A big chunk of the battle with the Screaming Other is to know there IS a Screaming Other. That the Screaming Other is there to reinforce the lies from the past and push you to self-sabotage or do damage to your relationships and your potential. The lies that feel like the truth need to be recognized. This starts with examining the lies. How did abuse make you feel about yourself? About life? About God? About other people? When you go through that process of identifying the lies, then you have awareness. They no longer blend in with your emotional, mental, and spiritual landscape. The stand out like glaring eye-sores and you see them for what they are: lies.

Take that awareness and listen for those same lies coming from the Screaming Other. I think a big secret to abuse recovery is to pay attention to familiar patterns. The Screaming Other isn't coming up with anything new. It's the same-old-same-old. It attempts to push you back into the small, weak, vulnerable, exploited victim role and keep you there.

Get mouthy with it. Tell it to "SHUT UP!!" Laugh at it. Expose it. Confront it. Show your teeth. That Screaming Other is just the cowardly echo of a past abuser and all the damage that coward did to you. Speak the TRUTH to the Screaming Other. Let it know that you're not a victim anymore. That you have value, potential, and hope. That you have chosen to move beyond it and leave those lies behind in a trail of dust.

It isn't easy to shut up the Screaming Other, but I've discovered - in my own journey beyond abuse - that the Screaming Other diminishes in strength and influence as you aggressively counter lies with truth. That's where freedom begins, anyway . . . with truth. TRUTH sets you free - and silences the Screaming Other.

Lent and Abuse Recovery

Lent is a Christian observance consisting of forty days leading up to Easter, the celebration of Christ’s resurrection. This is a profoundly important season for some people and one of complete irrelevance for others, depending on your spiritual practices and beliefs. The discussion of how Lent is observed is not the focus here. The focus is on how you can incorporate some of the practices associated with Lent into your abuse recovery.

Generally speaking, three things accompany the observance of Lent: sacrifice, prayer, and charity. Here are some suggestions to consider incorporating in your life between now and Easter that have the potential to facilitate greater healing for you. Regardless of your spiritual practices or faith traditions, these suggestions can accompany you on your personal journey to bring comfort and purpose to your recovery process.

Sacrifice
Consider sacrificing your practice of negative and degrading self-talk. What would happen if you abstained from talking to yourself in condemning and demeaning ways for forty days? What would happen if you sacrificed your habits of tearing yourself down, of speaking with disrespect to yourself and your worth until Easter? Negative self-talk may be much harder to give up than chocolate cake or beer! This is a sacrifice of long-toxic habits.

Prayer
Consider spending five minutes a day (or more) in quiet reflection and meditation. Sit in silence, release your spirit to seek God’s peace, love, wisdom, and direction. Open your heart and mind up as a receptor. Don’t ask. Don’t talk. Receive, connect, and drink deeply from God’s unconditional acceptance of you.

Charity
Look beyond yourself to those in need around you. Speak kindly to your family (yes, even THAT member of your family like your partner or your child!), your friends, and your colleagues. Call a minimum wage fast food worker by his or her name and thank them for serving you. Leave a tip for the maid who cleaned your hotel room. Donate food to feed hungry people, open the door for a young punk who is behind you at the convenience store or burger joint and say “Please, go ahead!” Look people in the eyes and smile. Prepare a meal for a single parent and bring it to their family.

Observance
Abstinence of negative self-talk, quiet meditation with God, and looking beyond yourself can bring a connection to the observance of Lent into your abuse recovery. Who knows, if you try this for forty days, maybe you’ll continue it for forty more!

The Power of Empowerment

I'll never forget the terrifying experience of walking through my own home a few years ago and smelling a fragrance from a trauma that was over forty-five years old. I was home alone. It was terrifying because it was not possible. There was no way - under any circumstances - that THAT particular smell could be in my home, and yet it was there. I tore through everything in the bathroom, in the hallway, in the living room - trying to find out where it was coming from, but I was looking in the wrong places. I was looking OUTSIDE of myself, not inside.

A situation the day before had awakened a very old fear from my abuse. I was slowly processing the circumstances, using my tools - the tools I teach and help others to use every day - and using my voice to talk to the support people in my life. I was filled with anxiety and dread that morning. I hadn't slept the night before. This situation had become like a runaway train - heavy and out-of-control. Without going into any detail, the developments from the day before were going to explode later that afternoon - I had been warned about that - warned about that the day before. A phone call was coming that - in my mind - placed me back in the position of being a vulnerable, exposed, small child.

With every resource at my disposal, with every tool I teach and with every support person I could find, I frantically tried to unravel the knot this impending situation created in me. I thought I was coming to terms with it until that fragrance filled my home. It stuck to the roof of my mouth and turned my stomach. I knew it well. It might as well have been a ninja that slammed me up against the wall!

I quickly left and as soon as I got in my car, that same smell filled it, too. I couldn't believe it! Where ever I was, it was there. I called a friend who asked me one simple question that changed everything. "Well . . . what are you going to do about it?"

Whoa! It was like a bucket of ice water shocked me back to consciousness! I thought about that question - about what it MEANT and about what it IMPLIED. It MEANT that somewhere within me - within my own spiritual and reasoning resources - I could address the impending situation like an adult - not like a naked, terrified child. It IMPLIED that I was EMPOWERED to determine how to proceed, next.

I stammered a bit and replied, "I'm going to act first! I'm NOT going to wait for the threat; I'm going to make the first move on MY terms and MY schedule!" The minute - and I mean THE minute - I made the decision to address this impending situation - the smell vanished. Poof! Gone! I couldn't believe it!

I'm sure you could tell similar stories about something from that past that is so large and so threatening, that it pushes you back into that role of being vulnerable and small, helpless and exposed. As soon as I determined to take ownership of myself - of my choices and my boundaries - that ominous smell disappeared. Now believe me - I understand that there was NO SMELL - it was just that rotting terror of my childhood trying to rip off one more day of my life.

There is POWER IN CHOOSING EMPOWERMENT. The moment you firmly plant yourself in the here-and-now, then you declare your RIGHT TO BE, your RIGHT TO THINK FOR YOURSELF, and your RIGHT TO BE VALID. You step away from the role of a victimized child and step into the role of VIABLE BEING. This is not to say that you'll never be hurt again or that you have some kind of super-hero powers - but it IS to say that THE VERY ACT OF TURNING TO FACE THAT WHICH DIMINISHES YOU, AT ONCE EMPOWERS YOU!

Abuse can convince you that you'll always be small, vulnerable, exposed, and afraid. Those are lies. Moving beyond abuse means facing life in the present, here-and-now. It means that you exchange the lies for the truth and put away childish things - including childhood terror. 1 Corinthians 13:11 (my paraphrase) applies here: "When I was [an abused] child, I talked like [an abused] child, I thought like [an abused] child, I reasoned like [an abused]. When I became an adult, I put childish ways behind me."

Each time you face your circumstances in a reasonable, responsible, and mature way - accessing help, support, and resources - you have put away childish things. That's the power of empowerment!