A piece of paper

I see the lights
There up ahead
Feeling empty inside
Feeling self dread

I see the sign
Looking back and forth
I see a road
One south; one north

Where do I turn
When I am so alone
Where am I going
In my self torture zone

What am I doing
Where do I head
Would I be better off
Sick and feeling dread

Why is it so empty
Why is life at times so hard
Where do I fit in
Sick and feeling scarred

Why must I sometimes
Feel this way
Feeling lonely on
This lovely summer day

I look up ahead
I continue on
I have a piece of paper
To keep me from feeling gone

From far away
I hear a call
It is ok
I won't let you fall.

Blanket

A safe surround
The blanket lies
Aside the river
Broken all ties

No conditions and no thought
Just peace
And heaven
Feel like it ought

One day I will reach out
See the scene
Be there quietly
Change to green


Thanks to a friend

What next?

I took a look
A second past
I knew I saw it
I could not last


What was there
That scared me so
What was it
That I did not know

And just why did I
Not want to see
Why can it
Not let me be

And if I remember
What then do I do
I know something is there
Can it be true?

The Forgotten One

I hear a song
A voice from far away
Calling out
In the darkness

A tear drop falls
And finds its way
Landing at my feet
I look down, the tear a puddle

Where am I
What am I doing
Why am I here
What is this about

I ask others
I seek their understanding
I have no idea
Which path to take

A sadness fills me
I shed a thousand tears
And then I hear a calling
A little person whispering my name

Where am I
In all of this she says
Why not take care of me
I turn and listen, I hear my own voice.

The Painting

It sat upon the wall
Above a fireplace; showing fall
The picture was there for years
In the place of many tears

I cannot remember its detail
Pierce my heart; as a nail
It was but orange; I do remember
Thoughts like fire and burning embers

It was large; looking over the room
At the end; it did but loom
Watching over the scene
Of my memories; it does but lean

Is it a picture of a road?
Or perhaps a river; my thoughts slowed
It could be a chain link fence
A forest of trees; stark and dense

I saw it there as my childhood passed
A downward sorrow is but cast
It stood above me in the room
As my father created my tomb

What stories would this painting tell
It would see my living hell
It would know what happened to me
My thoughts hurt; please let me be

So what if the painting were to speak
What would it say; wisdom to seek
And if I cannot remember this scene
Just what does that really mean?

For six years; this painting saw
My thoughts meek; I do withdraw
From what happened in this place
My memories; they try to erase

Years have past; the painting still there
I remember; it brings back the scare
My memories amiss at the end
The painting knows; it can but mend

So what do I seek from this painting now
As my thoughts furrow my brow
Could it be that I cannot know
The horror too much for me to grow?

If I remember what the painting knows
My life is thrown; my thoughts close
I am frightened of this scene
Of what my memories can but mean

So I forget; the room for now
I continue on with life; thoughts disavow
I one day will remember the painting
Steady myself; my thoughts are waiting.

This is why I love you

Submitted by Black Crow

The light I see within your eyes
The sparkle I see in your smile
These are the things that are true
And this is why I love you

You are an inspiration
To all that need to feel
That someone out there cares
To help so they can heal

Your courage is exceptional
Your heart is full of love
And this is why I adore you
My beautiful white dove

What is a friend

A leaf does slip off a tree
And silently falls down
It glides backwards and forwards
And lands on the ground

The next leaf does fall
And ponders down as well
It silently gathers to the ground
Where all the others do dwell

And what if the leaves were sorrow
My tears falling still
Would you be there to catch them
Chasing all my will?

A friend will catch the leaf
And turn it all around
They will offer their advice
Turn a smile from a frown

They will see the leaf
And put out there hand
And grab it well before
The tears fall to land

So here is my hand to
Catch your fallen tears
Your sorrow and your heartache
A true friendship through the years

Poem

Whitedove is currently reading "The Wounded Heart" by Dr Dan Allender

A poem:

The night is dark
But I can see
All the things
You mean to me

Your gorgeous face
Your beautiful smile
Your love for me
Makes it worthwhile

The joy you bring
The happiness you give
Makes me realise
How to live

You are so strong
In all your pain
The courage you show
Keeps me sane

I love you dearly
My loving wife
You and the girls
Are my life

Celebrating 10,000 unique visitors

Wow - I am amazed.

10,000 unique visitors to www.whitedovesnest.com!

Hope you have enjoyed your visit and return shortly.

Thanks to all the continual contributions I receive throughout the year to make this site what it is.

((((hugs))))
Whitedove.

Love instead of Hate

What are the choices
That we make
It seemed so real
But it was all fake

A land of make believe
A land of making things real
Of taking hold of something
Of it being surreal

Seeing things there
Speaking out loud
Hearing everything
Nothing so proud

Listening to music
It had meaning too
Unsure what was happening
Unsure what to do

Did I want to die
Was that the aim
Did it all become too much
Was it a game?

How did I make the call
Messages sent from high
I was to receive
I let out a sigh

So what did I send back
What was so great
What was I supposed to do
Was I too late

So here is the message
I sent to the gate
I said NO, NO, NO
Love instead of hate.


Hopefully who ever wanted this message will read it.

I was asked Yes or No

I say NO.

Changes

Out of something old; comes something new
A fresh start; a chance to renew
A feeling of sadness; crying and fear
A chance to start through the years

Once it was thrill and happiness to be near
A sigh on the lips so dear
Soon an aching of distant gone
Perhaps something making one forlorn

A drifting apart; no fault of ones own
One moved forward; while one grown
A distance became a gulf; feeling lost
An iciness that turns to frost

But then something happens; a whisper still
That starts to break through their will
And one realises that there is a chance
To capture that one lost glance

So today; we start anew
Hoping that sad times will be few
Change is finally here
Happiness and family in the air

So I thank you from the bottom of my heart
For being there when others arent.
Thank you for loving me; care too
From your wife; I love you

For my husband; thank you for the ring
and wishing to accompanying me on my journey.
13 Sept 2006

(((((big hugs and kisses))))))

Whitedove

Lost and Alone

lost and alone
in a world of hate and harm
why why did this happen;
where is my calm

will it go
no, i cannot change time
i cannot go back
and reinact the crime

i hate being attached
i hate my emotions; to and fro
being tied to nothing
and the trival thoughts that come and go

i want to be happy
to see the rainbows again
to understand the suns rays
and to be me with a grin

but it is clouded
full of hate and fear
feeling the emptiness of nearness
holding every thing dear

when will this feeling go
what to do
a sorrow deep within
a feeling of sorrow and low

so if you feel this way
join me to
in this loneliness
at the bottom of you.

Happy Birthday Whitedovesnest

28th August marks the 1st birthday of whitedovesnest.com!!!

In this time there have been many contributions to the site of poetry and art work, stories and general comments. Thank you all for sharing your thoughts and inspirations with others.

To date, there have been nearly 10,000 unique visitors to this site. Generally, there are between 40-70 visits per day, dependant on the day. I AM CLEARLY NOT ALONE with endeavouring to heal from childhood sexual abuse.

Since first going online on this day, 1 year ago, I have added the survivor art gallery, changed the look of the site, added even more things to look at, added a search and links. I have also gone on to create two more websites. It has been a busy year.

I wish to thank the many visitors and contributors who make this site what it is. It takes a lot of courage to stand up and turn around and face your past. Congratulations on visiting, and taking that stand.

Happy Birthday!!!

(((((hugs)))))))
Whitedove.

Five Years

I see the television
It is not right
Are they speaking to me
With all their might

Why is this happening
I must be insane
I will just ignore it
It will not happen again

Within me is messages
I am sad I cannot talk
I hear them all calling me
I am sick as I walk

I see a sign
I feel a rush
And still I sit in silence
Keeping hush

And then, I sit
And eat my meal
And then my life
Becomes surreal

I am god
The messages say to me
It seems so real
Can't it let me be

The dogs they call
The swimming pool too
The angels they weep
It all seems unglued

I fall in and out
Of this state I am in
I cannot believe in me
Is this for a sin?

I remember so much
Of this time then
It is hard to remember
I look at the tv again

And now years on
What would I do
If the tv responded
Again like anew.

I would surely freak
And get help fast
Because I know
This terror will not last

So to others out there
That understand this rhyme
You can survive to
All it needs is time.

The Courage to Heal Workbook

I read The Courage to Heal book many years ago and learnt that I am not alone. It has many stories and a lot of information.

I am about to embark on The Courage to Heal Workbook and waiting for it to be delivered. I am nervous and apprehensive about this, having read a few of the questions and topics it discusses. I hope it to be ok and to give me back a bit of my normal life once again. I will post topics that I find of interest. I am doing this workbook with another survivor, as suggested on the booklist on my main www.whitedovesnest.com site.

Thanks for the comments on the blog, they are much appreciated. I hope you continue to like my poems and comments.

Memories

I saw it two days ago
A slight image
A slight pain
I see the scare; I cannot name

It started slowly
I saw it there
I did not know what to do
I could not care

It jumped out at me
I wanted it so
I begged for years
For it to let me know

How could I tell
That there was more
More to this living hell
My heart; it tore

Now since then
I have received more
There are three extra images
I am keeping score

What is coming next?
I cannot go
I can handle it
This I know.



More memories.

Empty

Lost alone and so far away
I feel empty; another feeling today
The loss within me; will the pain go?
I could of gone; I just did not know

An emptiness; a longing; a mindless soul
A single pity; within a deep dark hole
I reach out; Is someone there?
Does this even matter; do I even care?

The crying comes; will this shortly go?
I feel at a loss; does anyone know?
The tears fall; a silent gloss trail
Will I feel normal; or will I fail

I sigh so heavily; the burden is there
Without my strength that I proudly wear
The loss is deep I can feel it still
Tapping my shoulder; against my will

The emptiness fades; the dawn comes again
I feel the suns rays; forgiving when
I am glad the emptiness; is not always here
And it is a smile; I can now wear.



Sadness ; thank goodness it goes away. Putting on a happy song may help

Healing through Creativity 2006

After much planning, Healing through Creativity 2006 started today. I volunteered in Sept 2005, to create with others, the website at www.healingthroughcreativity.org to promote the event on the web.

It has been a fantastic journey for myself and others. Though I live in another country, it has certainly turned my life upside down in ways I would never had guessed when it first started.

I have contributed to the event, an artwork "You Can" describing my story from a child of 10 and a half (see main site under Survivor Art Gallery). It has given me much pause in my life, to discover that over a period of 22 years (what the art work covers) , I have managed to move forward from a place that I thought would forever be forgotten. I wish to send a big thank you for all the people in my life that have aided me.

I have also donated poetry - "Touched", "Angels Garden" and "Little Girl Gone" for display along with other artists/performers/helpers who have contributed to the event.

I wish to send a big thank you to all that organised the event and put in many hours of behind the scenes work.

I wish also to personally thank the event organiser, George and family for much needed inspiration & help.

(((hugs)))

White Dove

Way up high
Where the sunlight sings
Flies a white dove;
Taking flight to the wings

The white dove soars
As she finds a cloud
She flies through it
Ever so proud

She loses a feather
It floats down still
It falls at the feet
Of a little girl; broken will

The girl looks up
And sees the white dove soar
She does not understand
She does but ignore

She takes the feather
Eyes covered in tears
Eyes being haunted
Eyes filled with fears

She tucks in the feather
Hiding it quickly away
It is hers forever
It is here today

For within this feather
Lies a promise of the dove
That forever and today
The girl has found internal love


For all the young girls who have been affected traumatically by childhood sexual abuse, here is my feather to you. May it give you continued inspiration to speak out and not remain quiet.

(((((hugs)))))

whitedove

Anniversary

Today marks the 1st Anniversary of losing my family due to sexual abuse. I had to separate for my own well being and sanity. A year today I held my ground and said no to continuing silence.

What has changed for me in this year:-

1. Completed this healing website & another - approx 100 people a day are helped
2. My story in a book
2. Written my story in different formats (see main site)
3. Seeked help
4. Stopping the silence/blame
5. Found a friend or two.

((((hugs))))))

Today

I am empty
I feel no pain
I feel no hardship
I cannot name

A year has passed
I don't know what to do
A year has passed
Without seeing you

Unsure what has happened
To be this way
I did nothing
For it to end up today

I thought I would be sad
For losing you;
I thought that you would
Understand what this has done too

But now a year on
Am I filled with regret
No I just feel empty
I just want to forget

Marking the Boundaries

Here is the mark
We will not cross
We will not falter
I will feel at a loss

It is a line
That is drawn in the sand
Forever vigilant
Forever manned

A line that is written
Marked there still
For many years
The tide does spill

A beach sand mark
Not to be weathered away
By sand, by tide
By night or by day

It has been crossed
By others before
But today I say
No forever more.

((((hugs)))))

A poem about marking your boundaries

Survivors often have problems with boundaries, and I wanted to write a poem about this aspect of healing.

My bucket

A bucket worth of feelings
Lies on the tiled floor
And in this bucket I place
My fears, my anxieties and more

The bucket is my salvation
I look at it when I can
I see it standing there beside me
It is my greatest fan

And what would happen if one day
The bucket were to rust
Then how could I know
With whom my feelings I could trust

And if the bucket had a hole
Would it leak; would it overflow?
In this I do not understand
In this I do not know

And what if the bucket
Were to be seen by someone new
Would they know what I was feeling
Would they know what I could do?

And so if you see my bucket
You will understand
That it is me that you're talking to
It is me that can be that grand

My Path

I see a path
In front of me
I place a rock
I look and see

The path does change
A little bit
The path does wander
I must admit

Another rock
I place there still
By the edge
I think; take my fill

I see two rocks
I place them down
Am I happy
Or will I frown

I stop;
The rocks are wrong
The path is broken
Breath not strong

I continue on
Placing more rocks still
I fill the path
Rocks make my will

The path overflows
I can do no more
Many rocks fill the path
I know not their score

The rocks weigh me down
I take some away
I wander back
The path does sway

I am right now
My rocks are there
I can see them
I know they care

So what do I do
Now the rocks are mine
You place rock
And say it will be fine

I see a path
In front of me
I place a rock
I look and see

Bedroom Door

A feeling of terror
Knocks upon the door
I hear its sound
It comes after me; some more

I look up
The door is open
The image there
It is unspoken

It is dark
The door is wide
I see him there
In his stride

Is it real
Is he there
It seems to me
I just can't care

He stands there
He does not enter
An apparition
Scaring at my centre

It makes me scream
Is it a ghost?
Is it real?
Thoughts scare the most

I do not know
What to think
What if its real?
The horror; I blink

I am left now
With this thought
Just what is this
In this I'm caught



Nightmares can sometimes seem so real. I am unsure if this image is true or not.

((((hugs))))
Whitedove

Photos

I am visiting areas in my past that are of concern to me. I have posted the first on the Survivor Art Gallery and called it "Tree"

I am currently reading "Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence - from Domestic Abuse to Political Terror " by Judith Lewis Herman, M.D.

Whisper

Whisper

There was a whisper in heaven
When we met those months ago
The whisper spread across the land
So that others could finally know

The whisper slowly drifted through
The distance and the years
It filled my loneliness in this world
It covered my fear and tears

A simple word, a timeless note
Waiting patiently for a reply
And all just so I would know
That you were there standing by

I do not know who to thank
When I heard the whisper cried
All I know is not to question
That you will be by my side

So today, after many years
I decide what I must do
To answer the call to the note
To listen whole heartenedly to you.


This celebrates 6 May 2006


Wrote this a while ago - and found it again today.

Hope you enjoy it. I did

I have also updated the templates on the main website at www.whitedovesnest.com, to a purple flower design. Hope it brings you inspiration.


Whitedove

Its arrived

After much time waiting, my artwork has arrived!!!.

I am thrilled with the final results, I did not know it would turn out as well as it did. I am glad I chose the interior decorator I did. It is very much readable and very bright.

Time to think about sending it now.

Finding a Friend

Finding a friend

What happens if you have been waiting for years
And the thing that you hope for; just appears
If you wonder why you were so blind
And it makes you just want to mountain climb

It is not winning the lotto, not finding lost gold
Not beating a marathon, its just being very bold
It called for courage and strength within
To trust a person you now call a friend

For this the tears do spill

A sat on the counch,
Next to the phone
Beneath the lights
Mum and me alone

It had taken a while
To find the courage beneath
To understand the turmoil
To become covered in grief

I kept the secret silent
I had held off for many years
The thought; the terror; the anguish
The nights; the horror; the fears

And so I decided on the day
To tell what lay so hidden
To let her know what I had to say
To tell her what was so forbidden

Mum, I said in my quietest voice
Dad is touching me all the time
She looked at me without a blink
A look that should have shown a crime

She turned to me and said
"Is there something you want me to do?"
And to this, I had no reply
So I just said "No"; quiet ensues

And then there was a silence
I heard it for many years
It filled my life with horror
I cried a life of tears

I had taken the courage to tell her
The silence is deafening still
For why did she not help me
For this the tears do spill.


May 2006


It took me years to recover and to seek therapy. My mother could have started this process earlier. I moved out not long after this incident. I do not know her reasonings behind her silence. For three of her daughters had been abused and still she was silent when her granddaughters visited......... I no longer visit. The unfortunate thing is that the months before this incident, we had grown closer, and I trusted her more.

Touched

My mind wanders back
Through the years and the tears
Taking the journey that
Was to be forgotten

The pain rises, and then falls
Like waterdrop crystals in the rain
The memories leap forward
And then die, tragedy to be erased

The night it happened, my soul died
A thousand times over and fear became
My constant and dwelling companion
Swiftly replacing the love that I felt inside

The curtains were closed and the
Darkness outside enveloped the sun
The television hammered a show
Watched a thousand times by others

I wore jeans, and a jumper I think
The memory fades as I journey through
Years of distance in my mind
Years of horror and of pain

I was so innocent, I did not know
The pain was to start the instant
My father said "Come and share the couch"
I loved him for an instant

And then the pain and the scare
The horror and the nightmares started
The hiding and the tradegy
The loss of my family

The loss of my friends, the crying
The hospitalisation, the therapy
The arguements, suicide,
Not eating and refusing to talk; confusion

My soul took a dive that day.
It hid beneath the pain and the misery
Shining like a beacon saying
I am here, when you want me

All I needed to do was listen
And to understand I was always there,
That is was the fear that held me at bay
That crumpled me into a thousand pieces


I was asked to think about the day it all started. I wrote this poem without rhyme to capture this time.

I am please at how it turned out, and glad to be writing.

Notes on this poem:

This poem is the first of 4 poems in a series I wrote within an hour. It is the first poem I wrote without a rhyme. It discusses the first time that I was sexually abused by my father. I was 10 and a half and innocently watching tv in my family homes lounge room.

My world, my life, my memories, my happiness and safety in this world changed from this one moment. I wished to capture this in a poem.

Touching this memory, brings back a lot of fear and anxiety. Writing this poem made me physically sick, however I have an easier time now (its about 2 months or so since I wrote it) remembering it without it scaring me internally so much. This is what this poem has done for me. You can see the rest of the poem on my website at www.whitedovesnest.com (there are two more parts to it). It will also be on display at Healing through Creativity during July 2006. www.healingthroughcreativity.org

Writing has come to a complete halt

My great start to my new book, has come to a complete halt. From such a good start, it now has changed direction.

I am rethinking what I am going to write about, discuss and create. I had a few more ideas yesterday, and will be gathering more information shortly. I have had luck in the past with just "going for it" and need to give myself a set time, within my other committments.

I will shortly be creating a downloadable form of the first chapter of my first novel, written a while back. It helped me out from a dark time in my life, and can be explained as a thriller. It has violent scenes, evil verses good with a tale to tell. It is a fictional story, however, a short period of my life has been reflected throughout the tale. It may give others an idea, just to give writing a go, it is a great place to start in recovery.

I changed the header on the site, to A Child at the Beach. I love the brightness of the site now and it is good to see the site, with the same information, but in a different format. I plan in the future to have a template chooser, so the visitor can choose the "skin" to view the site in.

A few more poems have been submitted from various visitors - hope you enjoy them. I have also highlighted on the front page one of my favourites which made me pause and think about things. It is I'm Sorry I don't Understand by Against All Odds. Have a read if you get a chance.

I have also published a new site, though unrelated to healing. On this new site I have experimented with a few additional features that the package I use to create the site offers and I hope to duplicate it at Whitedoves Nest.


((((((hugs))))))))
Whitedove

The Anger dwells from deep within
It hides beneath this fake grin
It boils high and boils low
&%*^ off cow you have to go

How dare you speak to me this way
Making me feel so small today
And I have to keep the anger in
Hiding behind this stupid grin

As it hots up deep inside
I wish I did not have to hide
I want to tell you how much you stink
I want you to know what I think

I want to be rid of your awful thoughts
Things that you say hurt; they ought
I am not your play with little toy
Does this give you so much joy?

I bang on the typewriter harder still
The Anger will not abate at will
It will go shortly this I know
As I formulate a plan to go

What will I say in response
Wanting to say "You hurt me with your nonchalance"
But instead it will be buried so deep
My eyes telling you, you are an awful creep

Getting quotes

Getting quotes for an artwork I will be displaying in Healing through Creativity. It was cheaper than I thought. I will have to redo some formating to allow for better printing. My previous thoughts ended up being too difficult to accomplish, but I will update it and put it on the website at a later time for viewing.

Why not enter your work, poem in www.healingthroughcreativity.org in July 2006. You can do it anonymously.

Whitedove

I am not like my mum

As I stare at the clock
Hearing it say tic, saying toc
I wonder when I will fall asleep
My mind silent, not a peep

I wonder why I felt happy today
Angry feelings kept at bay
Why do I feel happy; instead of glum
Is it because I am not like my mum?

One is "supposed" to idolise
Their model parent; so critised
What do you do if she did not care
If she did not worry, if she was not there?

If she let you understand; that father was good
He molested you; whenever he could?
And when you told her; putting fears aside
She said "What do you want?" and then let the topic hide?

So instead of helping; she chose to forget
She lived with this monster; mind set
And when you raised the topic; saying something
She yelled and screamed; "It was nothing!!"

When you tried to seek help; shortly after
From professionals; therapists; there was much laughter
And when you chose to run away
It was their parenting that held you at bay

And what do you say; when years pass
You confronted your father; yes at last!
When your mother stood and defended him
For his guilt and for his sin?

What do you say; when she tries to reconcile
With a Christmas card; that is so vile
Nothing mentioned; everything quiet
Only the veiled message; "Do not be defiant"

I will accept you; but only when
You say nothing about your fathers sin
We must be as quiet as a mouse
And not utter a word of evil in the house

What do you do; feeling completely alone
Look at the card; missing home
Realised that home was never there
A fairy tale; where nobody did care?

"It is OK"; it was in the past
As another grandchild; is offered up fast
Sisters living in complete denial
Like their mother, are ever so frail

So finally; I looked at the card
It caused me grief; ever so hard
I picked up the phone; wanting to be heard
And said "How do you live with him" you silly t*rd

For you see; it is many years on
When your kids judge you; they know a con
So maybe I am feeling in a happy way
Because I am not like my mum today

Wrote this one in the middle of the night. Inspired by an event that happened about 3 months ago.

Computer Problems

My home pc (where I update the site from) died a number of days ago so unfortunately updating the site has come to a complete halt while I reconstruct my PC and take the chance to upgrade it......

The comment section of this blog is not working either (must be the computer aliens again!!) which is a mystery, and turning it on causes errors. Hopefully Blogger support will come back with the answers to this problem.

My luck has changed for the better though. I started a new job this week, and it seems hopeful plus one of my poems "Little Girl Gone" and a short story "The Owl and the Eagle" will be published. It will be available in June on Amazon and bookstores in Canada. The book focuses on Eating Disorders, and will have a chapter on sexual abuse in relation to eating disorders. It will also feature the "Whitedoves Story" as seen on www.whitedovesnest.com.

With the new job, we will be able to move away from the area I live (close to the abuser) so this will give me a bit more peace of mind

I will post more information on the book, closer to the date of publication.

Whitedove (pulling her hair out at sooooo many computer problems!)

Just finished the introductory chapter of my memoirs

Finally, I have started. I have been putting it off for a number of years now and have written two other books in preparation for this one. I think with the others I was getting the "hang" of writing a novel length piece and placing a fictional background on it, to ease me into writing.

It sounded great. I am estatic! I am so glad I started. However, I know it is going to be a harrowing experience writing my story down. Hence the reason I have put it off for so long.

I started it at 3AM today. Just could not sleep and had a number of exciting ideas for it, and just started to write.

P.S. Fingers crossed, one of my poems is to be included in a book of poetry for eating disorders. No final go ahead but hopefully something will come of it.

((((hugs)))))
whitedove

The Teddy Bear Creed by Whitedove

The Teddy Bear Creed


There was a knock upon the door
The teacher turned around
A smile came to her bright face
Teddies, red, white and brown

Smiley, Ricky Racoon, Duck Rebecca
Walked in with Curly The Quick
Ithaca Bear, Blankie, Sophie
Teddy closing the door with a swift kick

They found their seats in the back
And turned to the board
There was a hush around the room
Their attention not ignored

Now listen closely teddy bears
This is something you all need
For todays lessons boys and girls
Is the Teddy Bear Creed

Molly looked towards the others
For she had not heard
Just what the teacher was talking about
It had never occurred

We teddies have one role in life
It is our overall rule
To listen; to hear; to understand
With the Creed as your tool

Your lifes work is of comfort
To listen to their woes
To understand their grief
And to be there to just know

Whether they be a child
Or an adult in despair
You must understand
Its emotions that we repair

And when they are all alone
And no one seems to care
It is you that will hold their hand
It is you that will be there

When you get quite ragged
And your eyes are falling out
Remember that they need you
Of that there is no doubt

Be there when they are upset
Or in a crying grief
Understand you tell no one
Our silence is their relief

The secrets that they tell you
Are yours to keep indeed
Remember what they say to you
It is want they really need

And when you are looked at
Remember this with pride
That you are the ones
For which their problems hide

So remember boys and girls
When you walk from this class
It is for the comfort
That is all that they ask

The class looked to and fro
For now they all agreed
That today and for tomorrow
They would follow the Teddy Bear Creed

A bit of fun

The maintenance on www.whitedovesnest.com has been finished!!.

Why not add a bit to a poem at http://bigpoem.blogspot.com/

Maintenance

I have been performing routine maintenace on my website at www.whitedovesnest.com and taking the opportunity to upgrade programs running behind the scenes to ensure the site keeps in tip top shape.

All should return to normal shortly.

(((((hugs))))

whitedove

Stories needed for Supreme Court Case

My response to a petition for The Stop Family Violence Activists Organization is looking for survivors willing to share their story to assist them in fighting the Supreme Court. Please see more information at their website. Bolded is the questions that were asked:


http://www.stopfamilyviolence.org/226 )


By an Anonymous Childhood Sexual Abuse survivor seeking to help in persuading a change to the legal system in the interest of protecting other children


background about the assault(s) that occurred

I was sexually abused by my father in my childhood home for a period of 6 years from the age of 10. Two of my sisters and a childhood friend also confirm they were abused in similar circumstances.

This has caused tremendous effects on myself, family and friends. My childhood was spent
· fearing my father would rape me, touch me or hit me
· hiding under beds and in other areas if I was alone with him
· witnessing domestic violence
· seeking help and not being given it
· protecting other siblings during the abuse
· contemplating suicide
· extremely low self esteem
· panic attacks and general fear of surroundings
· blaming myself for the abuse
· change in personality due to the abuse

In my adult years, the effects have been:

· At least 300 counselling sessions, with 5 different therapists
· Attending two group counselling sessions
· Hospitalisation due to the abuse
· Having to protect children in his presence including nieces
· Losing all my family due to the fact they are unwilling to deal with the situation
· Untold misery and hurt, depression and anxiety
· Relationship breakups
· Anger and denial of the problem
· Numerous family arguments, harassment and anger from family members
· Speaking to the police and retelling my story
· Total breakdown of a relationship with my twin sister, mother and other sisters.
· Witnessing family members being hospitalised due to abuse
· Fear of meeting the abuser in public, shopping centres etc
· Confronting the abuser
· Loss of work days, many sick days during recovery period
· Being unable to continue at one work place due to hospitalisation
· Need for medication at times
· Looking after family members before and after hospitalisation
· Attending therapy sessions with family members
· Wanting to move out of the area I reside due to close proximity to abuser
· Living with the fact that I will not get justice
· Living with the fact that he may do this again to other kids
· Living with the fact that he can now get a “police clearance” due to the fact that this has not been taken to court
· Total of 22 years of being a survivor of childhood sexual abuse

I see there is no justice at this present time for people in my situation without horrific retelling in the court system and facing the abuser and other supporters in court.

• information about the decision to file criminal charges.

Four weeks ago, I spoke to the police in my local area. I was advised by a counsellor at the local Referral Centre that I could file an anonymous letter to the police stating the abusers name and marking it on a police record.

I have not felt comfortable with formally pressing charges at this present time.

I have been advised there is enough evidence to go forward, but the police could not say what sort of sentence he would receive if any. My sisters are unwilling to deal with the situation and would not support any action.

I am currently seeking legal advice at my own expense as to the actions of the courts and whether I should proceed any further

I have been advised there is a 2 year waiting period for a court date and that I would have to testify in full. I am in the process of writing dates/details of the abuse, and this has caused severe emotional upheaval over this four week period.

I have reported him to the police, but as of this moment, have not formally pressed charges due to the fear I am feeling about the court system, penalties and the actual sentence (if any)

I have been advised by friends/associates of penalties that others have received and have not been able to comprehend the light sentences that they have received.

I am no willing to go further, for my abuser to get a short stay in jail, go through two years of heart ache waiting for the court date, put my sisters through absolute turmoil for a light sentence.

• information about your decision to testify in criminal court or not.

I have been advised of the adversarial nature of the courts, and that on the chance that he pleads guilty to the offence that I would not have to attend court. There is a chance he will, but once faced with police and court systems and jail time believe he may change his mind and plead not guilty.

I have yet to formally attend a written statement interview with the police, because of the uncertainty of the court system, uncertainty of how the police will respond and how my family members will respond – perhaps violently.

Specifically, what factors weighed in to your decision?

· Family members not supporting me
· The fact that he may abuse again
· The fact that he may go to jail for only a short period of time, if any time
· The formal court process
· The detail and witnesses I would need to produce
· Horrific court procedure and telling my story in front of the family
· Effects on other family members
· My perception on the lack of justice.
· My lack of detailed memory

Did you discuss your concerns with a victim advocate or prosecutor? How did they respond?

I have had a number of discussions with the police advocate over the phone. It has been a positive experience speaking to the advocate who has advised some of the legal processes, avenues and charges.

She has also advised of the evidence procedure, the interview procedure and advised of the nature of the prosecution itself, and the uncertainty of the verdict.

Talking to the advocate, though positive on her part, has made me think twice about proceeding. I am happy that I have reported him, and have a report number, however, he can still receive a police clearance and possibly harm other children.

I am believing at this time that the court process would be horrific and that I am not needing to spend the next two years in fear and turmoil, possibly putting relationships at risk and personal safety of myself and sisters.

I have been advised by the advocate, that should the abuser seek contact, that I can have a restraining order on him, however, I would have to do this in court again, possibly confronting the abuser to receive a restraining order on him and other family members. I do not believe that this would be a suitable arrangement in my case.

In the end, what did you decide to do about testifying and why?

I have not decided either way at this time. I am feeling that I may not proceed with the legal action, however, this may change in the future and for me there is no deadline or statue of limitations.

The uncertainty of the sentence, the fear, and facing the abuser in court, family reaction and possible confrontations with the abuser make me feel unsafe and uncertain. I am not willing at this time to go through the formal actions, enduring such hardship for the period for a light sentence.

What was the result of your decision in terms of the case moving forward? In terms of you or your family’s safety and well-being?

If I do not press charges and go forward with the formal interview, he still has the ability to work with children and still can carry on as normal. He can receive a police clearance at this given time. I feel a lot of responsibility in protecting others however, facing the turmoil uncertain of what to do.

I believe the well being of all family members involved and their families and children would be harmed through a formal court process. My safety and ability to function is also a consideration.

What was the result of the criminal proceeding?
A report to the police, filed on their computer system for future use.

Do you have any regrets about the decision you made?

I have not made a decision either way, though at this time, due to the nature of the court system, having to testify in horrific detail and facing the abuser in a court situation, with other family being at his side would cause serious harm to my own well being, and that of my relationships with my husband and family members.

At this time, I am not regretting ringing the police and placing a report. However, I feel at a loss, because justice I think in this case has not been served and he is still able to continue on possibly abusing others. This in itself is terrifying for me. Could the whole process not be made easier?

For others reading this story, there is help available.

Please visit http://www.aftersilence.org/ or http://www.brokenspirits.com/, online support groups for rape, sexual abuse, molestation and domestic violence and abuse.

Why not tell your story too??

Couple of Harrowing Weeks

After spending a couple of harrowing weeks deciding on what to do about reporting, I feel I am no closer to deciding either way. Though I have reported him formally, I am required to go in for a police interview. I have been given time to think about it, but in the mean time the report stays in the computer system for other police to see, should the need arise. Should he apply for a police clearance (to work with children) this report would have no bearing on its outcome and he would receive one automatically.

Though I am aware of the processes I have been put off by the amount of time it would take to go to court (police advised it would be 18 mths - 2yrs) and the effects it would have on myself and other family members. After the past couple of weeks, I am very aware that even the thought of reporting is beyond mention.

I am required at the police interview to give as much detail as possible, and have been advised to write down as much as I can remember - times, dates, details, what people have said and did, including what they said when I informed them of what had happened. People I have told in the past, and people that have helped me along the way. I have attempted to do this two times now, and have found it extremely triggering, to the point where I have had to stop to recover.

I have been in emotional turmoil for the past couple of weeks. My husband is supportive which ever way I decide, be it reporting or not.

On a good note, I have updated my main site at www.whitedovesnest.com with statistics and a new survivor art gallery. Hope you enjoy the new features.
Thanks for reading.

((((hugs))))))

whitedove

Thoughts on reporting

It is confronting
That I feel this way
What to do?
What to say?

Why am I scared?
Why just now?
Is it that I live in fear?
Instead of the here and now

Where am I going?
What can I see?
Why did this happen?
Why just me?

Where is the support?
Where do I belong?
Is it just that others
Sing this other song?

I have no idea
I cannot know
I want to know what to do
I want to know where to go

The feeling is overwhelming
The scare inside
I wish I could just walk away
Walk away and hide

Fear Struck Tonight

Memories of a sexually abused child; 20 yrs on

A small girl lay on her bed
Feeling fear; nothing said
A single teddy is her friend
Just when will it ever end

The single bed in the room
The light shines in from the moon
She looks out her bedroom door
Waiting for fear; horror more

The darkness is all around
She makes not a sound
She feels safe; the door is closed
Nobody but her really knows

She shuts the door out of fear
Her father is close and near
She hopes the door will keep him out
She can do nothing; she cannot shout

Every night she lives in pain
For tonight it may happen again
A noise makes her hyper alert
She crumples; forever hurt

Every night is the same
What does this all really mean
She looks out at the light
A sound gives another fright

She thinks that she is all alone
But she knows now; as she has grown
That there are many with this fear
Many hold this vision near

The memory is here again
Fear strikes; round the bend
Many years from her life
Living horror; living strife

She feels like she is in the room
Twenty years past; it is not soon
The memory is eternally there
But he lives on without a care.

((((((((hugs))))))))))

Bit of an awful night - decided to write a poem to express feelings.