Malice is the little girl trapped inside me. The little girl who was suffocated, restrained and silenced.
I had the most creative, vivid imagination as a child. But, by age 5 I had already learned that my ideas and dreams weren’t important to anyone except me. I was constantly told to smarten up and stop being so weird. I was told to fall back into line and conform or live in fear of being rejected by everyone in my life. I saw things through rainbow-coloured glasses until I was forced to accept a black & white world. A world where imagination and creativity were forbidden. A world where I was told what to believe or risk losing everyone I loved.
So, I stuffed those hopes and dreams way down into the pit of my stomach and resigned myself to a world of monotony and boredom. But, that little girl inside of me refused to give up. She learned to hide her true feelings and gain acceptance by being a dancing monkey whose sole mission in life was to please those who refused to be happy. I named that little girl Malice and kept her compartmentalized…until she refused to be hidden in shame any longer. After many years of hiding my true identify and self, Malice demanded to be set free to pursue the dreams she had been forced to repress and deny. Malice is the creative force that still lives within me….and she grows stronger everyday. I no longer believe the lies I was forced to believe about myself. There is nothing wrong with me. I am a proud survivor of ritualistic religious abuse. I like who I am today and I will not dilute myself in order to make others comfortable. I will not be ashamed of the crimes and sins inflicted upon me as a child. I will not stand in line with my mouth shut to gain acceptance. I speak out now to bring awareness to the terrible suffering so many children are still suffering from because their parents have chosen to join or remain in a dangerous cult littered with child sex abuse scandals. I don’t care anymore that many will still try to label me as a freak to divert attention from the fact that right here, right now, in my city and yours….children are being physically, mentally, sexually, and spiritually raped by a greedy controlling publishing corporation that’s disguised itself as a loving religion.
And the truth shall set me free.
When I ask myself how I ended up here I see flashes of memories spin out like an 8mm movie reel on the wall of my mind. I tried so hard to put those horrific years behind me by pretending that it didn’t matter. I foolishly thought I could just put them out of mind by pushing those feelings and images deep down into my gut and sealed behind concrete walls reinforced with steel. I naively thought I could just get on with my life with no repercussions. For many years I tried to blend in somewhat so that I didn’t draw attention myself; thus ensuring my place amongst “normal” people.
Every day begins the same way for me these days. First of all, when I first wake up I am genuinelysurprised that I’m still here; that I’m actually still alive. That I made it through another night. Then the next thoughst that wash over me is a mixture of sadness and loss. Everything comes rushing back to me like a tidal wave crashing me against the rocks. The feeling of dread and heaviness settles over my heart again. The pain is palpable. The tapes start up and the first question in my mind is always the same: How did I get here? Like a set of dominoes lined up against each other I start to feel the pieces fall over each other. The last 35 years have both rushed past me and also kept me frozen in time in a world that never meant any sense to me but was forced to comply with for fear of serious repercussions.
What I didn’t count on though was feeling like I didn’t really fit in with others. Everything seemed so strange and unfamiliar to me that my discomfort manifested itself first mentally and then physically. I couldn’t relate to people who talked about their happy childhoods and experiences of growing up to become whoever and whatever they wanted to be. I couldn’t talk about the kids I went to school with for fear that it would expose my deep dark dirty secret of being a freak because of growing up in a doomsday cult that had cast a shadow over my day to day existence and plagued me through nightmares that have given me a lifetime of nightmares and insomnia. I felt like I was always inadequate around my peers. I have spent a lifetime playing catch up for the years that were robbed from me as a child. I have placed enormous pressure on myself to succeed in anything and everything I have put my hand to. Yet, no matter what I accomplish I never feel satiated. Instead, the anxiety keeps coming back and saying, “Well now what are you going to do with yourself?” I am forever trying to play catch up but have finally realized that I am slowly killing myself trying to justify my very existence.
Before I got really sick and ended up in the hospital I had prided myself in my achievements and felt like I had grown as a person. That was before I looked into the eyes of The Grim Reaper again and realized that he was determined to ride my back until I succumbed to his sickle. This time I came perilously close to shutting my eyes forever.
It would have been so easy to just let go and give in to it. But, there was still something inside of me that wanted to take that last kick at the can. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I knew that the severe reaction I had had from the meds that they had me on for 10 months would be my biggest challenge yet. Every inch of me hurt and the weight I had gained from those meds put intense pressure on my joints and muscles. I instinctively knew that to go from where I was to where I wanted to be would be intense and torturous.
We moved to a secluded little beach house out in the countryside. It gave me the peace and serenity to be able to finally heal myself. It meant I would have to analyze every aspect of my life finally and put the pieces back together of my broken psyche. I would finally be able to be the person I believe I was created to be. I was finally able to leave the city that I was born in and grew up in behind me and examine the destruction from afar in order to gain perspective of all the damage that had occurred in my lifetime. I am surrounded by forests and silence. For the first time in a long time I am able to open that dark room inside my head and exorcise my demons. I am in control now and strong enough to examine and slay those thoughts and images. However, mornings still start with an incredible sadness for what could have been but will never be now no matter what I do.
The nights don’t set me free either because my mind never shuts down. Instead I am subjected to terrifying graphic images that flood my mind until I finally succumb to short periods of sleep. The dreams and nightmares are so realistic that they often set my mood for the day until I get up and begin the process of medicating and taking care of myself. I am in physical pain from years of abuse to my body and an auto-immune disease that has gifted me with extreme fatigue, chronic illness and sometimes debilitating pain. When you feel like you are trapped in your body your mind begins to spin out of control with negative messages and memories. This is the hardest part of my day. Sometimes it all seems so overwhelming and hopeless. I have to talk myself down from the ledge and convince myself once again that once I am medicated things will begin to look better. I need the nausea and pain to lessen before I can focus on anything positive. I have to force myself to get up and do the many things it takes for me to even begin feeling somewhat like myself again. I push myself to go outside and open my eyes to the beautiful possibilities that each new day brings. I remind myself of all the magical things the future holds for me if I just never give up. I lift myself up by listening to music and purging my thoughts. But, no matter what I do or how great things go that day I know that tomorrow and every day thereafter I will be faced with challenges that will demand every bit of strength that I have in order to carry on. I also know that I have much to be grateful for. I have 2 beautiful grown kids who have always been the best part of my life. I have 2 amazing grandkids and a loving supportive husband who has never left my side and supports me unconditionally. I live in a wonderful house with a beach at the end of my street. I have the time to focus on my projects and explore new interests. I have extended family that accept me as I am and don’t try to change or censor me. I have so many things to be thankful for. So, I remind myself of these things when I start my day with thoughts of defeat and the awareness of my limitations. And each night I pray for the strength to make it through the darkness; awakening to the start of another brand new day.
I am fully aware that each day could be my last. So today , while the sun is shining I will bask in the knowledge that I have been granted another day to do anything that brings me joy and the opportunity to keep growing as a person. It’s never over until it’s over. – Malice
The other night I had a terrifying nightmare. Like so many others I’ve had since I was a child. They say it’s an aftereffect of being raised in a doomsday cult. So anyway, I woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat with my heart pounding so hard and my head swimming with confusion. The time was 0436 and the number 42 was stuck in my head on a loop that kept flashing before my eyes. I sat straight up in bed and tried to make sense of what was going on. Why was I sweating and breathing so hard? Why was I scared out of my mind? I tried to close my eyes and go back to sleep but that number 42 kept racing through my head. So I gave up and decided to figure out the significance of this number in my life.
Continue reading #42 What Does It Mean?