damage control

or what i like to call “let’s put her under hypnosis and see what happens”…

i want to talk about healing.  i want to talk about burying things instead of dealing with them.  i want to talk about how this isn’t rubbish and it really will come back to bite you in the butt at some point.

when you least expect it.

i mean, i’m 3-1/2 years into a brand new life, complete 180 from where i was just 4 years ago.  i’ve done some years with a 12 step program, learning tools that not only help me not pick up that bottle of wine, but that helped me deal with my daily life.

the one thing it didn’t do, because i didn’t let it, was help repair the damage done by the dark parts of my life.  i kept them buried… secret and black, oily and acrid…old black dried blood waiting to be regurgitated….

and the dark parts started coming out, via the night terrors, via panic attacks, via phobias and totally irrational fears.  via low self esteem and constant need to please others, via fear to disappoint or fail in any way.

and then finally i said ‘i give’.  i had the full support of my husband, something i treasure and acknowledge.  i put the word out about the night terrors .   and the offers of help came in.  from my friend nancy wolf, who skyped with me for over an hour and helped me go in the right direction – talking about the sexual assault and the sexual abuse from my high school shop teacher.  and then hearing from the dozens (literally dozens) of women that messaged me privately to tell me their stories were similar and to thank me for being brave and speaking out.  and from all my friends and family that commented, listened, hugged and cried with me.

and from a woman named tzveta davinci.

tzveta and her partner lori have been very close friends of ours for a couple of years now.   we met them at scranberry, our home away from home which just happens to be their business.  it’s a rare week that goes by that we’re not all together somewhere, somehow.

tzveta even performed part of our wedding ceremony which many of you watched live on facebook.   she mesmerized the entire physical audience, and from your comments on the video thread, she mesmerized most of you too.

tzveta has a certain magic.  or alchemy.  or spiritual being… or any of those buzz words you hear today.   she has an energy that vibrates from her.  i have never met anyone that lives life like tzveta.  she has captured the secret, and she lives in each moment with joy… she is able to find the joy in the darkest of all the hidden things.  and that’s her talent… she knows how to get you there…

she has lived all over the world, in jungles… with shamans… in luxury… she has experienced more in her years than most, yet is as approachable as a member of your own family.

so after i came out with the story of the assault and abuse, lori messaged me and told me how important it was that i work with tzveta.

see, tzveta does all kinds of cool things like spiral readings, card readings, tanza meditations… and hypnosis.

so i said ok.  i trusted tzveta, i knew she loved me and would never harm me, and what the heck, i was open to anything that would help me. so i met with tzveta twice.

and when i tell you that it was life changing, i’m not exaggerating.  through hypnosis and meditation and probably a little tzveta magic, i have been given tools again.  as tzveta said, the download has started… we shall see what happens from here.  my head’s in a good place.  tools.

tools are the key, people, tools are the key.  have your plan in place, and have your tools handy.

i am not going to go into detail here as to what my tools are or how tzveta brought them to me, but if anyone has any specific questions, feel free to message me and i’ll go further down the rabbit hole in private. (oh, remember that dark, old blood that looks like coffee grounds waiting to be regurgitated?  it plays a part) (no, i didn’t actually regurgitate anything)

just let me say that tzveta comes from a place of pure love.  you feel safe and secure.

here is a link to her website, and i’ll post a link to her facebook page in a facebook post.

i urge you to click and look…

click me to go to tzveta’s site!!!




i was 11. it was 1968.

i was walking with my friend christine, after dark, on the street she lived on, heading to our irish step dance lessons at the Y just fifty yards from where we were…

a group of young men approached us, at least 4 of them, possibly more – the memory has dimmed.  we tried to run to the door of the Y, but they were older and stronger.

i remember hands all over me.  i remember one hand trying to reach into  the waistband of my pants, not succeeding and then grabbing my crotch roughly like he owned it.

i remember screaming.  i remember christine screaming.

i remember kicking.

i remember getting away from their grasp and heading to the door at the Y… all the while i’m screaming ‘i’ll get help’.  and the young men took off…

i never told anyone.  but i’ll never forget the feeling of that man’s hand gripping my crotch like it was his possession.


i was 15.  it was 1972.

my high school shop teacher kept me after class one day.  i was in full hormonal teen girl mode.  he asked me to help him with something in the supply room attached to the classroom.

and that’s when i learned about oral sex.  i learned at 15, with no prior experience, how to give a blow job on an uncircumcised  penis.  i learned all kinds of things from him.

i learned how to lie.  i learned how to hang out after class hoping for the attention i knew was coming.  i was a willing participant.  i never said no.

i never told anyone.

i never told because i never said no.  in my mind this made me just as guilty as the shop teacher.

i’m not a ‘what if’ kind of person, but 20/20 hindsight shows me that i could have gone straight to the principal’s office, or straight home to my mother, and told everything.  he would have been fired, brought up on charges, i would have been the talk of the  high school, but it would have ended his run of terror.

because i believe i wasn’t the only student he’d done this to, my guilt almost overshadows my shame.  if i had only told someone, i could have stopped him.

but i didn’t.  i kept the secret.

i don’t remember how it ended.  i don’t remember what our relationship was like afterward – did we say hello in the hall? did he smile at me? was it a complete ignore? i don’t remember.

i do remember in 1979 going to my new sister-in-law’s graduation at that same high school.  i remember seeing him there, with another male teacher who was also a huge flirt with the girls.  they both looked at me and smiled and elbowed each other.

like i was some prize he had won.

i never told anyone.

i was 15 years old.  i was tainted for the rest of my life.  i was shamed, i was hiding, and the longer the secret stayed secret, the more i knew it had to stay that way.  my brain convinced me of that.  so i buried it.  for a long time.

once i hit my 50’s i went into recovery for alcoholism.  i did the 12 step program of alcoholics anonymous.

for those not familiar, the 4th step is an inventory of resentments against people among other things.

my memories and feelings about this man, and the group of young men years before never surfaced.  these people were not on my 4th step… and of all the people in the world aside from me, those people should have been there.  perhaps i’d be further along in healing.

there is a very ascared little girl inside me.   she survived many things in her young life, losing her father at 8 to a fire, the sexual assault at 11, the abuse at 15.

these things formed me, but i refuse to let them rule me.

i’m telling someone.




soul work

awesome.  here i am… i’ve been advised to write out the dark nasty parts of my life that i buried for a lifetime.   i have had enough people tell me over the past 3-1/2 years that the horrible night terrors that have plagued me since my 20’s are coming from those deep dark nasty parts… the parts i’ve kept secret from even my closest of friends… husband… mother… but if i want to heal finally and completely, i need to let those secrets out.

there are a small few that know both stories.  not in great detail.  but enough to be able to see and tell me that there is an incredibly ascared little girl inside of me.  every few weeks i’ll have a night terror – always the same theme.  someone, or many someones, are trying to get in and hurt me.  breaking in, crashing in, beating on the door, pushing through a door… i never see them.  but i know they want to hurt me.  my dream screams translate to real world moans and whimpers.  both my ex and current husbands shake me awake… (current husband holds me until i stop shaking and fall back asleep)

the past two night terrors have been different.  where before i always remembered in fuzzy detail the attempted attack, the past two i am just “screaming” and my husband wakes me and holds me… but even though my heart is pounding and i feel like i’ve had a night terror – there is no remembrance at all of having the dream.

this ascares me, and is what finally pushed me into writing. that and i didn’t want to start this journey until after my wedding… and i’m two weeks post-wedding.

my wedding! at 59 i married my best friend.  my brain has trouble comprehending the level of love i have for this man.  every day is a joy.  and that is the good part.

the bad part is my fear of dealing with my past.  until that’s behind me, i may never be guaranteed a night terror-free sleep.  so here it goes…