The Key


Her world in a word,
She views the world,
from the outside in.
If there are reachable goals,
they are goals she cannot win.
If she is to profit from her life,
she must not hide,
she must be seen.
Who could know her ability.
The piece of herself that she holds so dearly,
if she does not try.
Who can know her heart,
when so much wasted time has gone by?
She is close to the door.
The one to which she chooses to ignore.
Beyond the door there is a constant,
movement and growth.
This can give birth to those,
beautiful things on her mind.
It’s what she wants the most.
So those beautiful things,
can all be revealed in time.
And yet instead she feels the need to hide,
over those ugly stories told over time.
This door is hiding her hope.
And so she finds it difficult to cope.
Her heart carries the key!
And so she pleads to her heart.
Lets just see.
And so she does.
Where there is an effort to start,
her beauty might shine.
She can feel alive!
But only for a short time.
For she does not know her heart.
How would she know what she could do?
Does she know that,
all that she needs to do is reach,
and tell the stories known to her,
that made her feel so weak?
Does she know her words,
are filled with wisdom,
and understanding,
that only she could impart?
Because they always come,
straight from her heart.
There is a question to be perused,
and she knows that the key must be a clue.
She acknowledges a need to change.
A great transformation
where so much is gained.
First she must shake off the burdens,
and memories on her mind.
All those fears,
that had wasted her time.
It all was not her fault.
To this she must realize.
She tries the key and it fits.
How exciting to know,
that this key that’s been hiding,
really fits the door.
And in such a way that she cant ignore.
Turning ever so slowly,
she is cautious,
but with great excitement on her mind.
She is curious about the wide open world she’ll find.
“So they say its not my fault,
she repeats to herself.”
“I am an individual,
with an open heart.”
So she must do away with the memories,
that so darkened her sole,
and the possibilities that it stole.
The burdens that held her back,
from the vision within her sight,
that she can now dream of things brighter.
Not just for a day.
But everyday of her life.
In this seeing of the outside in,
there must be a change.
Seeing this view is much too strange.
The key was the answer all along.
It was the key to her heart,
The door was just a start.
As she steps just right,
her surreal world,
opens bright.
She finally lives.
And all she had to do was begin!

The Absent Mother


Parents don’t have to hit or terrify us or even use cruel, mean words to leave scars. This seems difficult for people to understand. I could say well they didn’t beat me but wouldn’t that negate my feelings of loss and abandonment. I would be invalidating myself. It was very painful to reach up to my mom only to be pushed aside like I wasn’t important enough. It was painful when she left me in my crib for far to long and all alone. It hurt when my cries went unanswered. The truth about all this is when a parent fails to guide us or protect us or give lots of affection this is neglect. They may just fail to fulfill their important role as a parent. This too is neglect.
Emotional neglect is invisible. It’s hard for a small child to seek out help when no one sees that there is something wrong. It’s hard to see because if a parent is doing some good things people might just look at them as good parents all the while not realizing that the child is in dire need of affection. We can understand that neglect is often associated with not attending to the childs physical needs (food,clothing,shelter), but emotional neglect goes unrecognized.
It is not that people intend to be emotionally absent. Maybe they have a hard time being present in general or making emotionally contact with us. Generally we’re talking about people who are emotionally shut down like my Mom.
I do understand though that it is possible that a parent is busy taking care of someone else. It might be someone who is mentally or physical ill. I can’t say my mom worked too much because she didn’t have a job. Sometimes its just that a parent might not have had a good role model when they were a child. They could be acting on what their parents did to them. It can be generational. But regardless of all that the wound is invisible.
We don’t look down on a parent with these issues. They don’t look like an abusive parent. But it is still wrong and it leaves permanent scars. That’s really sad.
I read somewhere that not only is emotional neglect harmful, there is evidence that it is worse than physical or emotional abuse. A child tends to cling to an abusive parent rather than be abandoned. What a young child can least tolerate is being left alone or feeling invisible. That was me as a child. It’s a type of abuse that is hard to get protection from because I’ll say it once again, its invisible.

It’s true that we can’t change what happened, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make up for much of it. Healing from neglect isn’t about blaming but understanding what happened, how it impacted us, and most importantly what we can do now to help complete our own development.


The Caterpiller Incedent



I woke up in a good mood and I hope that it stays this way. I have therapy today. I always have a bit of anxiety in thinking how its going be. The last visit we started to open up a new memory. Its one of the most painful and frightening experience of my childhood. I wont talk about it right now. Perhaps after it is processed, I will. In this way I wont trigger myself by writing about it. There always seems to be this apprehension in opening up. Its like when people have a fear, like a fear of spiders. The reality of facing that fear is so incredibly difficult even to just think about. I have a fear of caterpillars, drowning, and being in a small space where I can barely move. My therapist said she can even help me with these fears using EMDR also.
I have no memory of the caterpillar event that caused the fear. I only have what my parents tell me. They used to joke about it all the time. Its seemed that it would often come up in conversations with my parents and other adults. Even as an adult I had to hear them talk about it for a laugh. I don’t think that its funny to laugh at a screaming baby covered in crawling caterpillars. Everyone was off a ways playing basketball. I would think that if my mom checked on me more often than I would not have been literally, as they say, covered. I guess it was one of those years when there were nests everywhere. Well although I have no memory of that event I am terrified by caterpillars. If one gets on me, you better believe I would undoubtedly scream. It’s weird how this little larva is so small and I am so big in comparison and could crush it in an instant. Once I am past the fear of caterpillars than I can truly appreciate the results of such a creepy crawling thing because it turns into something so beautiful, a butterfly. Perhaps my past abuse was the larva of my life. The cocoon is the work that I am doing right now in therapy and soon the presence of a spectacular beauty, the butterfly. I hope that this butterfly, me, will be able to fly anywhere and glisten with strength that can open up doors to new beginnings.

The Little Girl Inside Me

These are pages from one of my more creative journals.

I’ve struggled over the years with the idea that I would write a book and tell my story. Many times I pushed this idea aside. I even struggled with the title of this book, changing it constantly. But I know now what I am to name it, “The Little Girl Inside Me”. It’s the most fitting of all titles to my past and the legacy that it left. I am not struggling anymore with the idea to write my story. I want to write it not just for me but for others like me who walk around with these invisible, but very much alive, injured little parts of themselves. They are the ones who got lost and fell through cracks. The ones who kept secrets larger than themselves. Secrets of monumental proportions. It’s the child inside with a pure heart that was tainted by evil. This book would be dedicated to all those inner children crying for a voice. They are the ones that trusted with a wide open heart and had their insides torn out. For me it left a gaping hole that I swore others could see. I couldn’t be me. I could never truly be me. As much as I desperately needed attention and decent human caring I stayed away in fear that they would know that I am not whole and that the scars I carry are way to deep to heal.

Tummy Trouble


Our moods can become  affected by so many things in life. Death, weddings, illness etc, can possitively or negitively affect our mood.

I have a hiatal-hernia and this causes stomach acids to shoot up into my esophagus. Its called heartburn and its very painful. My throat burns like it’s on fire. My chest hurts like I am having a heart attack. I am usually on medication for it but I ran out and have not been able to get any. My dear husband is going out today for me to purchase it.

I’ve heard it said that, once you start that medication, you have to take it all the time. I can’t help but wonder, is it the medication that is making the problem worse and worse causing me to take it more often?

When I am physically uncomfortable, its like time stands still until its resolved. I hate that! When I was a little girl, I often hid how I was feeling to try to keep unwanted attention.  It was easier that way. I could stay out of sight for a while and be safe. It did not always work. It was one of the many coping skills I learned out of desperation to feel safe. I hated it, and it’s not fair, that I so badly needed attention and to have my parents care for my needs when I was sick but I felt like I had to get by on my own.

Children really are amazing and we can learn so much from them. That is one reason why it is so important to keep them safe. They are precious in God’s eyes and they should be precious in ours. You don’t harm something precious!

Well, I am looking for my medication relief today but unfortunately I have to wait until late in the afternoon. He has to go to a meeting and he is going to stop after that and then come home.

Molly, my golden retriever has to wait to as she is out of food. She does not like that at all. She just sits by her bowl and cries. I gave her some leftover spaghetti to hold her off till my husband gets home. It’s not really good for her but its better than having her cry out of need and frustration.

I did not sleep well last night for obvious reasons. I got a few hours of rest early this morning. I might still take a nap in the afternoon. It will help pass time until I get my med.

I need to find something constructive to do today because it always makes me feel better to have some accomplishments in my day. Although I am grumpy because of how I feel, I can still find something to do to help myself feel better. It’s a good skill to help with difficult emotions as well. Believe me, I have had a lot of practice with that!




My sister is amazing in every way. She is my true Hero in life. It is her strength of spirit and will that never ceases to amaze me. Her strength had enabled me to carry on despite what was going on in our childhood.
Let me tell you a little story. When she was about eight and I was five we were in the same school together. I was in kindergarten and she was in third grade. Well, she was out at recess walking around and became disoriented. She wandered off and no one knew that she was even missing until recess was over and the kids were all called to line up. They found her in the woods by the school. She hadn’t gotten that far away so thank goodness they found her in time. They approached her and tried to get her to go with them and she would not move. It was like she was terrified to move. They did not know what was wrong with her at that time so they were very confused as to why she was there. The only thing that they thought to do was to come and get me out of my class and see if she would go with me. I didn’t even understand what was going on. Hey, I was only five. They led me to her and I approached her and said, “Kim what’s wrong?. She would not answer. She did not talk. I simply said, “well come on let’s go back to the school”, and I took her hand and she began to walk with me. I don’t even think she knew at that time what was happening to her. They were all happy that she got back to the safety of the school. They called for my parents to come and pick her up. I remember being very worried about her and it was hard to focus in school for the rest of the day.
I finally found out what was wrong. She was slowly losing her eyesight. How terrifying that must have been for her. She eventually went completely blind due to a genetic disease of the retina of the eye which causes a gradual deterioration of the retina. So gradually she began losing her sight. She went through so many emotions before she got to the point of accepting that she was going blind. She was very angry and hard to control in the beginning. It was a huge challenge for my parents. She would not cooperate with anyone. Gradually over a few years, her moods stabilized and then they knew that they could start working with her to help her learn how to manage without her sight.
She ended up going to school in Hartford. It was Oak Hill School for the Blind. I heard it’s much different now and includes children with other disabilities. I think they even work with disabled adults also. She remained in that school for 21 years learning all kinds of life skills including how to read and write in braille. It’s funny, she tried to teach me braille but I just couldn’t get it. To me, it just felt like a bunch of clustered raised dots but to her, it was letters that formed words and sentences that opened a whole new world for her. She loved to read. She had her own braille writer and so she could keep a journal about her feelings. She often wrote her own stories. They were very entertaining.
I am so glad that she was away from home most of her childhood because I knew that at least she would be safe from all that was happening at home. At least one of us siblings got to be safe and to have enough food and clothing and toys. I was glad for that. She would go by the Gray-Hound Bus to Hartford every Sunday and stay all week and then come home for the weekend. I hated that she was away so much because I missed having her there in our room. I felt all alone without her most of the time and that in-of-itself made me an easy target for my Dad to abuse me. But I’ll say it again, at least she was safe.
When she was home my Mom always put me in charge of her when we went outside to play. I loved my sister and I understood what my mom needed from me but I was three years younger than her and to be given such a big responsibility was not right. But I did the best that I could. There were times that I just wanted to play and not worry that she could get hurt. I was just a little girl and I did not have the reasoning of an adult so there were times that I resented it.
Kim became the poster child for the Institute for the Blind. A really cute picture of her sitting on Santa Clauses lap got in newspapers all over the country. People mailed us clippings from various other states. Some were actually distant family and some were just people who were moved by her story and that adorable picture of her. I was so proud to be her sister. It’s like we had a celebrity in our house. There were times however that I was a little jealous because for that period of time it seemed that she got so much attention and I felt invisible. As I became an adult, of course, I could see how important that was in helping her feel a sense of pride despite her disability. I do feel bad now that I was jealous of her.
I know that this is going to sound really strange but as a child, I actually had this crazy idea that I would try to make myself go blind. I stared at a light bulb until my eyes burned but it did not work. I went outside and tried to stare at the sun for as long as I could but it just burned my eyes too much. Then I thought to press on my eyes as hard as I could. Thank goodness nothing worked. Why did I do this? Simply through a child’s mind and sense of survival, I knew that my sister was safe and my father could not molest her. I just wanted to be safe also. I was willing to lose my sight to be safe. I was just a child and had no idea of the seriousness of my attempt to destroy my sight. Well enough of me.
Let’s get back to Kim. Through the years she has had many accomplishments. She has done things that no one would guess that a blind person could do. After her acceptance of her disability, she did not let anything stand in her way of finding joy and adventure in her life. She has traveled. She won many ribbons and trophies in the Special Olympics. Most ribbons were from swimming. She has learned so well over the years to adapt to her handicap and find her way in the world. All of her others senses were so keen and sharp. She used these finely tuned senses to help herself get around safely. This was truly amazing to me. She now lives in a supervised house. It’s her house but twice a day someone comes to check on her to see that all is alright and if she needs anything. Otherwise, she is very independent. How could I not be proud that she is my sister? I have always looked up to her and admired her strength and will to go on and make a life for herself. I admire her perseverance and courage.
What more can I ask for in a sister?


For the sake of our children make a positive change!

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on


Every generation seems to leave a mark on the next generation. It’s like a bread pan with a dent in it. If you keep using that pan for bread that dent is always going to be there on all future loaves of bread. It is not an excuse because the pan can be fixed or buy a new one. Try a new way!
Make a change
Start a new framework for your family.
Take your pain and make a change!
Take a step back in time when you were a child.
Look behind and learn from your parent’s mistakes.
These were mistakes that their parents made.
We should want the best for our children, but sadly many go on unaware of any impact they may have on their children.

The pain that we feel has been branded into our brain, but some cannot seem to access it enough to make a change. They react the way their parents reacted. It becomes like a reflex. It often happens without thinking. Do you slap a child and then step back and say, ” why did I do that?”. It happens that fast.
It’s just one split second in- time reaction that can detrimentally affect your children and their future children. That”s all it takes. Where does it stop? When does it stop? How does it stop?


Before you react onto your child what was done to you picture a bright red stop sign.
Take a breathe.
Make a decision to change for the sake of your children.


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Thank you!