Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Christmas Thoughts

When I was a little girl I loved playing with the cats at my grandparents farm.  I enjoyed rubbing their bellies and listening to their gentle, rhythmic purring.  I would pick them up and wrap them around my neck and carry them into the house, where grandma didn't want them!  By the end of our play time I would have an itchy, red rash around my neck and my eyes would be bloodshot and watering.  Grandma would say, "Cindy!  Stay away from those damn cats!  You are allergic to them."  I would tell her, "No I'm not, Grandma--I'm allergic to the chickens."  I hated the chickens--always clucking loudly and fluttering violently around in the chicken coop.  And they would chase me all the way to the farm house--I'd be out of breath and crying, terrified to death!  I couldn't understand how I could be allergic to something that brought me so much joy.

At Christmas we were often the first house to have lights on on our block.  I remember when I was in grade three my two sisters and I were up even before the crack of dawn and ready to open our stockings.  We waited patiently for mom and dad to get up.  When their bedroom door finally opened, out strolled a little black kitten with a tiny diamond of white on her chest, looking like she owned the place.  I said, "Is that for me???"  And mom and dad said she was.  I was so excited!  I never dreamed I would ever have a kitten with my allergies!  It was my most memorable Christmas ever!

Thankfully, over time I seemed to develop a tolerance to my kitty.  I didn't rash up and my eyes no longer watered.  "Taina" was the most wonderful pet.  She would sleep with us under the covers and make you so warm you'd have to throw off the blankets--my own personal heating pad.  There is nothing quite like the unconditional love of a pet.  Through my temperamental teenage years she would lick away my tears.  And when I was fifteen and (although unknown at the time) I had a cyst on my ovary, she knew I was sick and would sleep on the side with the pain.  She lived many, many years.  I was married with one child before she passed away.  Taina was such a blessing to our family and my life.

Now that I'm a parent I chuckle to myself and sometimes wonder what on earth my parents were thinking??!  What if it hadn't turned out so well?  What if I developed asthma and became really sick?  Regardless, I am so grateful they took the chance.  Mom often says it was the best $10.00 she ever spent when they picked Taina up from the SPCA.  This act of love for me gave me many, many moments of unbridled happiness and entertainment which I will forever cherish.  Thanks Mom and Dad for making my Christmas dreams come true!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Protecting the Heart

A young couple, Quinn and Sarah, were on the Dr. Phil show yesterday.  Their relationship has been plagued with insidious violence for years.  Imagine a world of rabid name-calling, kicks, infidelity, savage punches, sharp slices with broken glass and stitches to patch up gaping wounds.  Many of us cannot fathom living in such insufferable chaos.  The couple has two young girls who witness the abuse, and are victims themselves.  And believe it or not, the perpetrator is Sarah.

Also on the show were Quinn and Sarah's mothers, both equally concerned about the abuse to Quinn and their granddaughters.  As a way to explain her behavior, Sarah talked about how she was physically abused by her father growing up--brutally beaten with a belt many times.  In fact, Dr. Phil indicated Sarah's dad had been brought up on charges for the abuse.  And yet, Sarah's mother vehemently denied there was any abuse to Sarah when she lived at home.  How could this mother continue to refute the abuse to Sarah when there was ample evidence to substantiate it?  Is she just a liar?  And how could Quinn remain in such an violent relationship, putting his beautiful daughters at risk as well?  

When I worked in the area of family violence, I was asked these types of question many times.  Why do victims stay?  Why do they keep going back?  Why do they protect the abusers?  These are easy questions with complex answers--whole books are written on the topic.  The show today was a poignant example of one reason violent relationships are sustained: denial.

Over the years I have discovered that denial is like a blanket that covers the shame of domestic violence for victims and bystanders.  Once safe, I have had women sit in my office and recount horrific incidences of abuse.  One story would lead to another, and sometimes with gentle probing, a kind touch and an empathetic ear, the flood gates would open up.  I vividly remember one woman responding, "Wow!  I had completely forgotten about that until now...isn't that strange?"

It's really not all that strange, under the circumstances.  Victims tend to minimize the abuse as a way to cope, and sometimes the mind blocks it out completely.   It actually makes sense.  How much would you want to remember having a shotgun held to your head by the one person you loved and trusted?  What if that same loved one knocked your teeth out, or gave you an STD stemming from multiple infidelities?  And what if you stood by and did nothing while your husband beat the tar out of your daughter?

Denial and minimization of abuse can sometimes be diagnosed as Disassociation.  In addition, this type of psychological disconnection is a common symptom of PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Dr. Marlene Steinberg, co-author of The Stranger in the Mirror: Dissociation--the Hidden Epidemic (2001) makes the argument that dissociation is more widespread than was originally thought as a response to trauma, affecting over 30 million worldwide (http://strangerinthemirror.com/dissociative.html).  She states it is often is misdiagnosed as depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, sleep disorder or attention-deficit disorder, thus resulting in years of suffering.

Whether you call it denial, disconnection, dissociation, detachment or minimization--we cannot underestimate it as an important reason victims become desperately stuck.  Sometimes the mind takes over and protects what the heart cannot bear...and so the cycle continues.


“Hope is a higher heart frequency,
and as you begin to re-connect with your heart, 
hope is waiting to show you new possibilities 
and arrest the downward spiral of grief and loneliness. 
 Listening to your still, small voice in your heart
will make hope into a reality .” 

~Sarah Paddison, The Hidden Power of the Heart~