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Friday, September 6, 2013

What's the Deal With the Crown?

In thinking about what to call this blog, I went through a few different options.  Initially I wanted something like You Can't Break Me, but the choices along those lines seemed to be taken.  Then the title Getting My Crown Back popped into my head and I decided that was perfect, because I often jokingly dub myself Queen, along with my first name.  Queen of my house, my life or whatever.

The reason I've been thinking along these lines is because I am an abuse survivor in recovery.  I'm sure this blog is just one of many, but maybe that's a good thing.  The silence surrounding abuse has gone on for too long, and the more that people speak up about their experiences, the better chance we have at changing the consciousness of society around us and breaking those patterns.

I was severely abused growing up by my mother, and also survived childhood sexual abuse (SA).  This is an ugly topic and I know that people are uncomfortable with it.  I generally will give fair warning at the beginning when I do a post specific to the SA so people can skip it if they feel like they need to.  I'm not likely to go into graphic detail, but there are some things that need to be said.  Even if it's only to get things out of my system and I'm the only person who ever benefits from doing this.  I have learned over the years through different support groups I have been a part of, however, that there is kind of a magical thing that happens during recovery when you are in a position to share your experiences with others, and that is that by doing so, often somewhere along the line someone comes along who can relate to what you have been through and you are able to help each other simply through that relatability.

I have been in recovery for about twelve years.  It has taken a long time for many of the pieces to come together and form an accurate picture of what I have been dealing with.  At the beginning of this, I was cycling in and out of depression, often not realizing what was going on until I came out of it and it felt like the lights came on again.  I'm not exaggerating.  Sometimes depression is such a dark, dark place that you don't even realize the sun is shining.  Or, you wish the sun wouldn't shine so bright because it's hurting your eyes. Several months after going on medication I realized that there was something underlying everything because no matter what I did, although I was functioning a little bit better, there was always this deep sense of sorrow and anxiety that I couldn't get rid of.  Shortly after that I started seeing a therapist and found some online support sources that helped me a lot.  More about that later.

I believe that each of us are children of royalty, as children of God.  I believe this firmly.  Those of us who go through abuse have a harder time feeling the magnificence of who we are because we have been torn down and disregarded so much throughout our lives.  Everyone has struggles, I'm not discounting that.  But for people who are born into circumstances where they are treated with respect and validation and allowed to be who they are without constant berating and criticism, I really believe that they inherently have a better sense of self-esteem and as adults, their day-to-day lives run in a smoother fashion.  I was never allowed to just "be."  So, as I am recovering I am remembering who I am. I am getting my crown back.

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