Empowerment Project--Not At Fault Video

This is a video I made for the NAF project, which I discussed here last week. It's not perfect, but I'm proud of it anyway.

Empowerment Project--Love Your Body

Today's entry is from a friend who prefers to be called "Penguin".  Penguin has a blog where she posts amazing artwork as part of her therapy process. There are some lovely pieces over there so be sure to check it out!  Here are a few of my empowering favorites:

Love Your Body

Hope

Free

I love each of these messages, and find the first particularly compelling. So often trauma and eating disorders walk hand-in-hand and the list of services food fuels our bodies to provide are a brilliant reminder to anyone struggling with that beast.  All three images are beautiful and inspiring, aren't they?  Big hugs and thanks, Penguin, for letting me share your amazing artwork!

Empowerment Project--Men Were Scary

 

Men were scary. Everything about them made my case
I'd looked upon eyes of hatred
Lost when violent limbs found a place

The male form once etched into stone's of glory
Repulsed and terrified
A long forgotten, sad story

Defiant, one day
To reclaim the sight
Clutched one pen without delay
Etched the male form in all its glory

This poem, and accompanying artwork, were created by someone I greatly admire. Tara Shennan, a supportive friend of my lunatic fringe, has her own project for survivors called Join the Fight Back. Please check it out and be inspired by the brave contributions.

I found Tara's poem raw and painful, but at the same time awe-inspiring.  Thanks so much for this wonderful contribution, Tara!

Empowerment Project--This Smile's a Mask

The following poem is by Arielle.  I think this is one that everyone can relate to on some level. So beautifully stated.





This Smile's a Mask

This smile’s a mask
To cover the
Splinters of my heart

Shards of fear and pain
Define me now
Run so deep
My bones are filled with it

Distorted reflections of myself
Are reality now
Never ending judgement
Turns me against myself

I fake so much
Pretend the ugliness
Doesn't exist
Doesn't burrow deeper everyday

A parasite lives in me
Everyone would turn away if they could see
So I built walls
Closed off my heart

Masks I wear
A safety net
Against the cruel world
Against the tsunami inside me

So alone, adrift in silence
Words bursting to rush out
Stifled, locked away
I want to scream them all

Suddenly, a hand slides into mine
Breaks through all my barriers
Guides me to warmth
Sees all the darkest parts of me
Shows me the light
Bright and strong

It hurts
It heals

A flood of tears
Pieces of me slowly
Finding their way
Back together

This parasite so strong
Was weak after all
Truth destroying distorted perceptions
Of reality, of myself

My reflection’s clear
Bright and hopeful
For the first time
My smile’s not a mask



I feel a lump in my throat again, re-reading that. In our exchanges about the poem, Arielle said the following and I asked to share it with you:

"This poem kind of spilled out of me a couple days ago while I was laying in bed (I always get inspired right before I want to go to sleep, of course) and I had to type it out on my iPod. I usually write darker stuff but this time I wanted to show the light at the end of tunnel, that healing can happen, that healing hurts sometimes but it's worth it. After awhile it's like the mask takes over who you are, and you forget that there's something wonderful underneath, just waiting to shine again. It's hard to describe everything I wanted to express through my poem but I guess it's really kind of the journey I went through, and that I'm still going through"

We're all at various stages of that journey, aren't we? And the writers (and other creative types) here can all relate to the random grip of inspiration when your drifting off to sleep, I'm sure. 

Arielle also let me know that she's been inspired to try to put together "a book for survivors by survivors", similar to the Empowerment Project, as a way to help others.  I'd love to see that happen! For now she is focusing on school and just mulling it over, which makes me very proud. :)

Thank you so much for sharing your evocative and wonderful poem with me and with the world, Arielle!

Empowerment Project--Break Through

Today's poem comes from Fenna, and its about something very close to my heart.

Break Through

I really want to

I'm not that private

But it feels wrong to

Say it all out loud

From the inside

I scream out the words

From the outside

I keep being silent

From the inside

I scream out the words

From the outside

I keep being silent

Look into my eyes

I want you to break through

Hear my silent cries

Make me talk to you

From the inside

I scream out the words

From the outside

I keep being silent

From the inside

I scream out the words

From the outside

I keep being silent

I can only be free

If I can freely say

I

Was

Raped

Those last three words are about the hardest for any rape survivor to say and I'm proud and inspired by Fenna for sharing the reality of the struggle.  Even now, I hesitate slightly before mentioning the title of my book,  "Rape Girl" to anyone.  It's gotten easier, and will continue to do so.  Practice makes perfect and the word "rape" has lost most of its shaming grip upon me, and become what it should be: merely a label for the thing that happened to me, and to Fenna, and many of you. Its time for light to shine upon both the word and the experience of rape. If we all shout it together we can effect change. 

Thank you so much for sharing your poem with us, Fenna!

Empowerment Project -- The Road Not Taken

Today's Empowerment Project post is from D.B. Smyth, a writer of dark, urban fantasy and a blog that never fails to make me catch my breath. In fact, I stumbled across this post via a link from a mutual friend on Twitter and begged D.B. right in her comments to let me reprint it. I'm sure you'll find it as inspiring as I do. Thanks, D.B.!

The Road Not Taken: When Trauma Forces You Places You Didn't Want to Go

During a group therapy session for people with posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), I was asked to respond to the following poem: "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference


As a trauma survivor, instead of the excitement of the unknown I'd previously felt when reading Frost's poem, I experienced the following. The chalk art is my own.

Sometimes the road we travel down is chosen for us.

And once taken places we did not want to go, we have a choice: we either continue toward darkness and self destruction, or we choose to fight our way through the unending obstacles toward lightness and hope.

I chose to fight and, while I am not out of the woods yet, I am in a better place than I was at the beginning of this twisted rabbit's hole. I have many who have helped me when I could not see--a community of loved ones and friends who continue to call out, "Over here... you're so close... keep coming." To those people, both known & unknown, thank you. 

Thank you for loving me, supporting me, and not giving up when I do. 

Because of you I can see the light and I will find hope. And when I have mastered this part of my life, I will not need a path down the mountain for I will fly!

I don't think you have to be a survivor of traumatic events to understand what I mean. I think we all have moments that are forced upon us by the choices of other people. I think we all end up places we don't want to be and we all have those moments when we want to give up. To shout, "This isn't fair! What have I done to deserve this?" We plead for a rewind, a do-over, a different life experience.

But it never comes.

Because we can't go back. We can't erase time. We can't change what happened. We can never be who we thought we were.

However, we can still become who've we always wanted to be.

To all those who are struggling on roads not taken, I promise that although the climb is difficult and sometimes even impossible, the warmth and light and view are worth every painful step. We can make it! We deserve to be there. 

All of us, no matter where we started 

or where we are now, 

can learn to fly.

Dear Friends, how does "The Road Not Taken" resonate in your life? What has helped you overcome obstacles on your trek to the mountain top?