The Circle

I've already written about being a visual person, teaching, speaking, writing in metaphor, analogy and illustration. I have no idea how other people see things in their minds. It's neither good nor bad, it just is what it is. So...in this frame of mind that I am, I paint pictures for my children as I aim to teach them something, especially something of value, something I want them to have a visual of, something I want them to remember, over and over again. I don't recall where the parable of The Circle came from, it just came and now it's part of our familial vernacular; where are you in the circle with each other, with me, with your friends, the rest of your family? The moral of the story? Love, empathy. Standing by someone no matter what the rest of the world says. Standing for something, especially when your person is about to fall. Where are you in The Circle?

“As you walk toward the noise you hear, there in front of you is a circle. A circle of people. All colors, shapes, sizes, sounds. But the loudest sound is mockery and cruelty. You go closer to the circle to see what is there; what are they pointing at, jeering at? Your eyes move beyond the heads, through the limbs and bodies; to the spaces in between and to your shock it's your sister there in the center of the circle. She cowers there alone. Hunched over at the waist, wanting to disappear into the ground she stands upon. Her big brown eyes pleading for someone, just one out of the throng, to see her as she truly is, as Heaven made her; to stop the noise, the shouting the heckling, the monstrous mouths. Just one. You stare at all those faces, the emotions of anger, confusion, spite, revulsion. Hatred. You've felt it too. Autism isn't always pretty nor is it easy to live with, but this is your baby sister, standing alone in that circle of judgers, weighers and deciders. Where are you going to stand in that circle? Will you stand where you are, still and silent? Will you join the mob with the name calling and abuse? Will you walk away? Will you push your way through? Will you push past these frightening mouths and flailing fists, to find the hand of your baby sister? Will you go stand beside her, hold her against you, let her know she's not alone, she'll never be alone again. Where are YOU in the circle?"

As I've taught this over the years, because I have five children, three of whom are on the autistic spectrum, beginning with my second oldest, the one standing alone in the circle has changed. The one in the circle doesn't have to be an autistic person either. I'm not autistic, but I've been in that circle. Others I know and love have been in that circle. I've always chosen to stand inside the circle by the side of the one alone. It's never bought me much popularity, no. In fact most of the time it has bought me scorn. I have been punished for doing so. Never more so, however, than when I've stood there with my children. I regret nothing about choosing to stand up for what I believe in. I will never stop being that woman. Despite the names, the lies and gossip, being ostracized. I would cease to be me. And I would never leave my children or friends alone to bear that burden on their own. It may cripple me for a time afterward to take the brunt for or with them. But I cannot live a lie. Leave me. Walk out of my life. I'm better off without you. But to those who are lucky enough to have this woman standing next to them know the gift of a friend they have. To those who've stood beside me I offer my gratitude. I miss my son who stood beside me. He still is, but in a different way. I'm still inside the circle with the underdog. I say it with a shattered heart and broken spirit. But I say it without shame. Beautiful people don't just happen, They're created.

Where are you standing in the circle in your life?

Inspiration for today:

"In the darkness of your lonliness, remember that the spaces between your fingers fit perfectly with mine....I will listen to every breath, hear every heartbeat, until the sunlight illuminates your soul again."

~ Bruce Wheadon

"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt."

~ Mother Teresa

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy."

~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Smudge!

Yes, that is really and truly what the title of this weeks blog is, Smudge. Not like a mascara smudge or a smudge of mud on your shoe. This is a follow-up to last weeks post The Black Ball Syndrome. The best way for me to describe smudge is this: remember when you were a kid, or last week, whichever works...and you would hold a balloon in front of your face and look through it at your surroundings and everything was distorted and tinted the color of the balloon? Like sunglasses, yes-ish. But looking through a rubber balloon does distort things in a way that sunglasses don't. You may want to try this at home to understand the full effect of the object lesson. You'll immediately understand what I'm trying to relay. Nothing looks the same when your looking through smudge.


The color I'm currently looking through is a swamp-green. I didn't even know I was walking around with a balloon shoved in my face until after I re-read TBBS last week. Then it hit me, I may not be trying to see around a solid black ball right now, but things are not as clear to me as they have been or will be again some day. I am seeing things from a tainted perspective. I've thought a great deal about it over the last few days. I've consulted people I know and trust from a psychological stand point, read articles and papers on different topics and then it dawned on me.


Yes, I got out from behind the eight ball, but I am still mopping up leftovers from the person who smacked me in the face with the most recent ball. I'm using all my resources cleaning up how this person affected my kids. And in doing so, I have completely neglected this part of me. I haven't looked long and hard at me and compassionately given me a break. I've been tough on myself emotionally, pushing myself, demanding more and the more I demanded, the less I could give. I have PTSD. It is nothing to be ashamed of. The Black Ball Syndrome is basically that, but PTSD has some residual effects and I'm staring right through them and my world can look like a hideous color of green because of it.


Does PTSD mean a person is crazy? Aw heck no! It means a person was hurt and now they live in fear. Some professionals will call that generalized anxiety disorder, others will say its a fear that makes a lot of sense given the person's history. I know mine does. It has taken me years prior to now and serious soul searching this week to figure it out. I have the right to be afraid. I don't want to be. I want to stop seeing everything as though it is a scary green color. I don't want my view distorted. I'm generally very proactive about seeking help, but my kids have needed me, so I dropped me for them. The best choice is going to be finding balance, healing for all of us. The road to recovery is not a pill, one therapy session & voila! I'm fixed. No one is, especially when the trauma has had serious implications on their lives. It takes work. It takes a change in perspective.


My friend, Susan Kingsley-Smith wrote on her Empowering Solutions facebook page the following quote
(I swear she did it just for me!):


" 'Irrational' feelings of fear, anger, anxiety etc... are often very rational when comprehended in the full context of ones experiences."


I know this is true of me and my kids.


I'm not 'paranoid' to think someone is lying to me. I was lied to for years, by many people. Someone in particular took great pains, to cover their tracks and keep me from knowing who they really were, about their double life and all the things they did to keep that double life hidden. It is not weird for me to suspect that there are disloyal people out in the world. I've run into many, especially some disguised as friends. These past experiences are smudges for me. These are some of my unhealed emotional bruises. These keep that line of vision all mucked up. It doesn't make me crazy, it makes me understandably scared.


As I watch my kids struggle through their own pain, now I get it more than I did yesterday. I have even more empathy and compassion for them as I give it to me. The longer I hide away behind the green smudge, denying my hurts to be heard, to be validated, the longer those bruises will have the power to hurt me.


Another quote from Susan:


"I realized that the reason I kept talking about the past was because I'd not yet been heard. Validation is vital; its like oxygen. Sharing with someone I trusted to honor, yet not "fix" my pain, became an empowering solution."
And,
"Although for me my pain had been dismissed for so long and I'd been told I was "blaming" when I tried to address my trauma experiences. Invalidating ones normal emotional reaction to trauma is invalidating them as a person; this left me confused and reinforced the trauma's that told me it was my fault and that something was wrong with me. Having my feelings validated - that my experiences were horrendous - allowed me to put responsibility for the trauma/abuse back on the abusers and freed me from believing something was wrong with me and the shame I'd carried that I'd had such an intense reaction to these experiences."


I know that when I try to be responsible for what happened that isn't mine, I do feel a strange, foreign shame. It feels that way because it doesn't belong to me. When people discount what we endured, its like they're saying I'm a liar. I absolutely understand what Susan is saying in all of these quotes. And all the denying, invalidating and silencing keeps smudge happily in is place; denying the viewer a happier view.


As people who have had traumatic experiences once, its likely that we'll have them again and again. I have yet to meet anyone who hasn't experienced something or another. And if they don't validate the pain, all their lives are spent pretending and they are never free. Those of us who can raise our hands and say "yep, I was", have a better chance at surviving the harsh realities of life, have lower blood pressure and are less prone to cardiovascular illness. And we seem to grow more empathy than the deny-ers.


IS the world a scary place? Yep. But it also has beauty and love AND good people in it too. So, I have a new job to do. I need to stop seeing the world through a smudge colored balloon; all distorted and frightening. Its time for me to give myself a break, give myself a hug, pat me on the back and take time to heal me too.


Pretty soon, you will hear a very loud POP!!


Inspiration for today:


"You are more than what is hurting you tonight."
~ MercyMe


"Choose to align yourself with people who are like minded in their search for simplified inspiration. Give those who find fault or who are confrontational a silent blessing and remove yourself from their energy as quickly as possible. Your life is simplified enormously when you don't have to defend yourself to anyone and when you receive support rather than criticism."
~ Dr. Wayne Dyer

"Then the time came when the risk it took to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."
~ Anais Nin


An article from our local paper about PTSD.
http://www.standard.net/topics/medical/2011/05/01/child-abuse-trauma-can-surface-later