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A Recovery Story
Addiction, alcoholism, and abuse….in my experience these three things touch the lives of almost everyone. The blessed few who are spared the devastation of these demons are just that…..blessed. Not all of us who have lived with addiction of one kind or another or been the victim of abuse at the hands of another have story of recovery to tell. I am very grateful to be able to say that our guest today has hers. Karen from Mended Musings caught my attention as one of the most incredibly open and honest writers with whom I share the common bond of alcoholism and yes, recovery. I adore her and am grateful to her for being here and having the courage to share her experience, her strength, and her hope. ~ Sandy
The day after Warren Erickson fondled me up my shirt, down my pants, and stuck his tongue in my mouth with his beer breath and pokey blonde mustache, I sat on top of a picnic table at Jacob’s park. Maria convinced me to go with her because she wanted to see her boyfriend, who was Warren’s friend. I met them for the first time the night before when I was invited to babysit with Maria. At Maria’s urging, I sipped my first beer, learned how to smoke a cigarette, and told the men that I was 2 years older than I really was. I was supposed to be learning the ropes of babysitting and instead I was pretending to be cool. That mostly meant keeping my mouth shut and going with the flow so when Maria and her boyfriend started making out on the bed, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Warren and I would do the same thing. But it did. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t painful or entirely unpleasant but it felt unnatural. Like kissing your father or eating dog.
As the two men approached us at the park, I wondered what Warren was going to think when he saw me. When Maria’s boyfriend got to where we were sitting, she got up and walked off with him, leaving Warren and I alone together. I stared down at my dirty sneakers and an awkward silence descended upon us. When I looked up, he was looking back at me. Then, he turned and quickly walked away, leaving me alone on the picnic table. He walked to where Maria and her boyfriend were making out and words were exchanged. I could tell he was trying to get his friend to leave and after a few minutes of dialogue, they did. Maria walked back to me and asked, “What did you say to him?”
“Nothing,” I insisted.
I didn’t want to go to the park in the first place but Maria made me. People were always making me do things I didn’t want to do and I always did them. I didn’t want to kiss stupid Warren Erickson or have his hands under my clothes but I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want him to see me in the light because I knew that I would look different than I had the night before when he was drunk. When he walked away, I knew that I was a disappointment to him. I wasn’t pretty. I definitely wasn’t sexy. I wasn’t even a woman.
I was 11 years old. He was 28.
I wrote about him in my Hello Kitty diary. Until I was in my 30’s, I thought of what happened as my “first kiss”, which felt incredibly and inexplicably shameful. It took me many years to understand that what happened was so much more significant than that. For years, I beat myself up for letting him do that to me but by the time I was 11, I had already been exposed to mental illness, suicide, hopelessness and addiction. And since I was raised in an environment where these things were to be endured, not questioned, I came up with my own reasoning and understanding of how to cope.
And I made a lot of mistakes. I believed the lies – lies that were told to me and lies that I told myself:
I deserved it.
This is all I’m good for.
There is no hope.
I’m crazy.
I’m damaged.
If anyone knew, they’d lock me up forever.
Like many victims of abuse, I fell into a cycle of abusing myself. I continually put myself into dangerous and risky situations. I lost my virginity and attempted suicide in the same year… when I was 13. There was never a shortage of grown men and boys who welcomed my attention. I only survived high school because of a group of friends who were studious, smart and loving. Those girls kept me from self-destructing because they helped me feel “normal” when inside I felt wrong.
I felt wrong for a very long time. I felt it after I got married, as I tried to excel in my career, as I endured nightmares and constant anxiety, as I became a mother, and as I grappled with a gaping hole inside that could never be quite filled.
With lots of help, I learned that I wasn’t wrong but that my interpretation of those painful events in my life were.
I didn’t have to believe the lies anymore.
I started to question my belief systems that were formed from birth. I examined the different ways in which I numbed my emotions and I stopped drinking for nearly 3 years, which helped me gain tremendous clarity. I had to confront my most sacred space without the people and things that I wrapped my identity around. Then, slowly, I had to decide who and what to let back in. Who belonged in my sacred space with me? What thoughts, behaviors and beliefs would I let back in?
Our journeys are our own and while I decided that sobriety isn’t a permanent part of mine, permanent recovery is. Recovery is the process of choosing what is sacred in my life, accepting what is fleeting and embracing the truth as it is revealed to me. It is strength, empowerment, service to others, hope, support, self-care and self-compassion. It is intensely personal yet universal.
It is what saved my life.
Karen Perry lives in sunny Arizona with her husband, two kids and two dogs. She writes at MendedMusings.com about family, God, her recovery from sexual abuse and the desire that most of us have to be authentic in all aspects of our lives. You can visit her Facebook page or follow her on Twitter @MendedMusings.
Thank you for sharing this. You are amazing.
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Thank you Michelle!
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Beautiful, Karen. Courageous and honest, which is the essence of recovery. I am so blessed to have your inspiration in my life!
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You’re going to make me cry! Thank you and I feel the same about you. 🙂
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See….I told you it’d be fabulous! That said, this post makes me all gutted and knotted up inside. My thoughts are all over the place as you struck a chord just like you always do with your writing.
I can’t imagine you, my beautiful friend, feeling anything less than beautiful and worthy of love. But, it also reflects how so many of us feel at some point or another – or still do sometimes.
“I only survived high school because of a group of friends who were studious, smart and loving. Those girls kept me from self-destructing because they helped me feel “normal” when inside I felt wrong”
A friend of mine called these types of people “Enlightened Witnesses” defined as “a person who loved them, but was unable to protect them. Yet through his or her presence, this person gave them a notion of trust, and of love.”
Thank God we have people like these in our lives. I know for a fact that I married my own EW – sometimes, I still don’t know how I hit that lottery.
One of these days, I’m going to make it your direction…our paths were meant to cross.
Sending you love and happy vibes. xoxoxoxo
PS: Shout out to Sandy! MUAH! I’ll be back to reading soon. xo
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I absolutely love that concept of Enlightened Witnesses and can attest to the truth of their existence. I feel like I married my own EW too and have been blessed to have several in my life. I just didn’t know what to call them! Thank you for sharing that. Looking back, I can see how God guided and protected me along the way (and still does) and I can now say that I’m grateful for every experience. I didn’t think feeling that way was possible a few short years ago.
I can’t wait for our paths to cross either! Much love to you! xxoo
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oh I LOVE that term! Enlightened Witnesses….wow, that’s profound. I married mine, too, without a doubt, and know precisely which others were placed in my life….and they saved me. They still save me. My life would be completely different without their existence. Thank you for that term, Michelle!
and Karen, WOW, thank you so much for trusting your story with us here. What a powerful one it is. So much truth, empowerment, and hope in your words and I’m in awe of your strength. *hugs*
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Thank you so much Beth!
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My dear Beth,
I’ve been thinking about you all week and hope that it’s been a good one for you. I too love the term Enlightened Witness. Especially, when a new found friend shared that I had been his a few years ago. I didn’t even know it and the notion touched my heart.
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You’re a brave and beautiful soul. Such courage and honesty is humbling to read. Thank you.
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Wow, Bea, thank you.
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You amazing brave woman! Delighted to find you here and honored to bear witness to your honest story. Thank you for sharing your story. I’m moved and inspired and very proud of you. As I always am when I read your work. And I’m crying, of course, because that’s just what I do. I hope you are letting all of the goodness shine through today. Much love to you.
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It’s been an intense day. I’m used to writing more vaguely, without all the details but I’m so glad I took the leap and wrote this piece. Thank you for being here Jessica!
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Honestly, Karen, you’re inspiring me to write more details. I touch upon it but don’t dive too deeply. Personally I often get flooded with shame and have to be careful not to spiral after being celebrated. My wish for you today is that you embrace this and celebrate yourself and know that you’ve touched so many of is. Much love.
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Thank you for that. It’s kind of a high to get so much support and I don’t want to second guess myself after the high is gone, so I know what you mean. I’m going to embrace it and not let go!
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Perfect! I’m celebrating you too.
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Karen, it’s always so good to read your words. When I heard from the ladies that your post was going up today, I was so excited! And not without reason. This is fantastic.
I have been working with some of the things you listed – changing belief systems, mainly. That’s the point I’ve come to lately is to work with underlying beliefs in my life.
I absolutely love how you defined recovery. Although I am not in “recovery” as termed by many recovery groups (still sober at the moment but not following a program), I do feel like I’m in recovery as you described. Choosing what is sacred, accepting what is fleeting, and embracing the truth. Beautiful.
So lovely to hear from you again friend. Sending love to you.
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Laurie, it’s so good to hear from you today! It’s not possible for recovery to look the same for everyone and mine doesn’t necessarily fit into how some recovery groups describe it either. For me, recovery is about finding what we need to be whole, to be our authentic selves and finding how best we can contribute to the world. We can choose the belief system we were born into or we can choose our own (or combine what works). And best of all, we can change our minds whenever we want. That’s a biggie for me because I felt trapped by the way things were for a long time and didn’t feel empowered. Thank you for your kindness my friend! xxoo
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Thank you for sharing your story. Recovery is a process. Everyone’s stories help us learn and grow.
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I agree! It’s one of the most important elements of healing.
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This place rips my heart up over and over and I keep coming back… because of strength like yours… thanks…
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Thank you. And I keep writing because of support like this. 🙂
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yay
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I was so excited to see you were featured here today! And as always, your words radiate truth, empowerment and strength. I relate so much to your story. So much that it was actually pretty difficult to read this past the part where you tell us that you were 11 yrs old when that sick SOB took advantage of you. I had something very similar happen at that exact age as well. It’s devastating to really think about how helpless we were in those situations, especially since the abuse had already started at a much earlier point. For some of us, at birth. Some days I feel further along in my own recovery than others. Some days I’m just plain pissed off that I’m still trying to figure out what recovery looks like for me. And then other days, I come across stories like yours, and I am comforted by the similarities in both the struggle and ability to overcome. Great essay, Karen. Would you mind if I shared it on the Trigger Points page?
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One of the things that always plagued me was that I didn’t say no. I thought it meant that I was responsible. And even though it was the first incident of sexual abuse in my life, it wasn’t the first horrible thing that ever happened to me and unfortunately, it wasn’t the last. A child’s reasoning is so different from a grown up’s and it took me a long time to understand that and to stop blaming myself.
I would be honored if you shared it on the Trigger Points page. Thank you so much for everything you do to raise awareness!
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I have so many “I should have said no” stories that stem from childhood and straight through my self-medicating 20’s. That scared frozen moment where you give in is something I have had to learn to recognize and fight against most of my life. It’s still not easy, but I’m more capable of standing my ground with things now…the little and big things. I’m very much a work in progress… as I suppose we all are in one way or another.
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I think it’s shocking how many of us don’t feel we deserve better. Despite the subject matter, your post is uplifting and hopeful. Thank you for sharing your story.
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My goal was to offer hope so thank you!
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There is a sensation of the bottom dropping out of where you are standing when you read this. The questioning of your belief systems is so very hard – it means making waves with ourselves and others that can be devastating. This is an honest, authentic, and empowering story and I’m so glad you shared it here.
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As someone whose main goal was to always fly under the radar, I know what you mean about making waves. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to conflict but learning to consciously make choices about my belief systems saved me. It empowered me. Thank you so much for your kind words!
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I have so many thoughts when reading this. First, you are so brave and strong and sharing this here is a gift to all of us.
Second, I wish I could figure out a way for victims/survivors to not carry guilt around with them for the following years and often decades. The guilt should be felt by the man who was molesting a young girl. Why do we (as victims) shoulder and bear that burden for the perpetrators? It’s the nature of the issue, the feeling of shame that comes with these things. That’s why you sharing your story is so important. The more we do that, the less power the shame has.
Third, I’ve been reading the comments and that whole issue of freezing, of not saying no or fighting… that haunted me for most of my life. But I heard something on NPR, just the other day. I think it was about studying animals in the wild and the scientist was an expert in sexual assault. He said that even animals freeze in these situations. That there’s fight, flight and freeze. That they have done studies and there is something that makes the brain and body shut down during a traumatic assault. That was HUGE for me to hear. I think everyone who’s been through something needs to hear it. I need to do research and find out all of the details.
Thank you so much for writing this.
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Thank you for sharing what you heard on NPR. It makes sense and rings true. One of the areas that was so hard for me to make sense of was how I felt like I was a disappointment to all of my abusers (this man was just the first). It eventually occurred to me that we wanted different things. I wanted validation from a grown up and the men wanted to assert control over someone powerless. It’s just another element of the mind f*ck that makes these situations so complicated. If you do more research I’d love to know what you discover!
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You are beautiful.
in. so. many. ways.
love from Minnesota.
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Thank you. You are too. You rock! 😉
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I too identified with what you wrote about those who help to keep us feeling “normal” despite feeling so wrong on the inside. Oh, how I love the beauty of Enlightened Witnesses. I’ve been blessed with many who are still with me helping to keep me sane despite my feeling intensely messed up in my mind.
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Isn’t that a great term? I haven’t been able to get the concept out of my mind since she wrote about it. I also think that no one feels completely “normal” yet it’s something so many of us strive for. Maybe normal means feeling connected. 🙂
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Truth, self care and self compassion. So true! Thank you for this post.
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You’re welcome! I’m glad it resonated with you.
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Really beautiful piece- thank you for opening up and sharing it with us. I might just be inspired to write about a few things of my own. I just found this site a week or 2 ago and am thrilled to have found a place where survivors can find a safe home for their stories. Thank you.
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Thank you Jill! The Sisterwives are awesome. 🙂
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Karen – Your words are a gift to so many. The way you so openly, courageously, and honestly share your story gives others comfort and makes them feel safe in sharing their own stories. I hate the ugly places where life has taken you, but I am so happy for where you are now. Big hugs and many thanks for your bravery.
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Thank you so much Jackie! Your support means a lot to me. 🙂
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Amen, sister! Deciding what is sacred, indeed. What a lovely tribute to yourself.
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Thank you!
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