Courageous Steps: Fingerpaintings ~ June 17 & 18, 2005

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My Truth ~ My Childhood

From what I've been able to piece together, I stopped crying as an infant because I would get smothered, hit or pinched. My mother has an untreated borderline personality disorder and was physically and verbally abusive. My father, who was narcissistic, slowly drifted out of my life and was verbally and physically abusive to my mother and I. They divorced when I was 3 or 4.

At about 4-5 years old my mother got involved with a man who would become my step-father. He and his father and friends were sadistically sexually abusive to me. Between the ages of 4- 9, my sadistic narcissistic step-father and his father at first forced me to have sex with them and other men in my step-father’s bedroom. It also included sodomy, oral sex and beatings with a belt or antenna between my legs and being tied or held down and erotic asphyxiation.

Then, when it moved into the garage it was usually one or the other and just two other family members. But, included rape, crawling things, objects, erotic asphyxiation, fisting, beatings, sodomy, oral sex, genital beatings, popsicles and ice. All occurring while being tied down for hours and with no clothing. At six years old, I remember my step-father putting a knife up to my neck and reminding me that he could kill me whenever he wanted to and no one would know or care. He continued the verbal abuse, humiliation and subtle sexual abuse until he moved out when I was 21. (There is some evidence that points to a "cult-like" involvement with the sexual abuse and the number of unknown men.)

My mother, who wouldn’t get out of the abusive relationship used to constantly warn me to “watch what I do and say because he could kill me.” She was also extremely emotional volitile and verbally and physically abusive. I was 23 the last time that she slugged me. Because of the things that she said to me, I grew up thinking that I was evil and deserved to die. There is also evidence that she probably left me home alone as an infant to party.

My therapist and I both know that it is God's miracle that I am still here today because I should have killed myself by now. My therapist and I both know that it is God's miracle that I am still here today because I should have killed myself by now. I am trying to come to terms with my abuse and feel feelings that I did not feel then, but to me God held my tears for me.

In the Bible, it says, "You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book" (Psalm 56:8). It feels like He is giving them back to me and I don't want to hold them. Anyway, either, He has a very huge bottle or a case for me. Thanks for reading a part of my life. Take care of yourself! (added 5.29.08; rev 9.25.08)

Friday, October 31, 2008

Fingerpaintings ~ June 17 & 18, 2005

These fingerpaintings were completed during the time of my past journal entry of June 17/18, 2005 when my suicidal thoughts and my self-injury was/had spun out of control. Emotionally, it was a very turbulant time with lots of mixed emotions seeming to pull me in so many different directions. I wish that you could see the brightness of the colors, the movement and texture.

My fingerpaintings are abstract which also means there is no right or wrong answer in what they mean. For me, I can tell at the time what I am feeling, but today it may be different. Either way it is a way for me to express myself without harming myself. So, what you see is probably about yourself or something in me in which you identify. I hope that you see what is important to you and not my interpretation or meaning. Although, some are able to step back and look at it through my eyes.

This one feels like there is deep sadness at the core fully enclosed by rotaing pain and then there is a lot of terror moving and surrounding with hopelessness closing in.

I don't name my paintings, but this one reminds me of a hurricane and I think "Eye of the Storm." I'm in eye where it is calm and I can just be which means a tremendous amout of sadness and hopelessness surrounded by constanly moving pain, emptiness and terror.

That lavender hopeless blob, I think is me, with surrounded by tears and little bit of terror and pain (orange color is red). Then, if scared me so I crossed myself out with the terror and the pain...to not exist. Sadness and rage scare me, so when I see it in my paintings it really agitates me...got to get rid of it.

First of all, I hate pink so why I have this pink blob, which is probably me, in the middle makes no sense. What does make sense about it is my struggle with being female. Then, the whole picture is sad and tearful with bits of sadness, rage, pain, terror all over the tears. All feeling can move one to tears. Now, I feel a bit disturbed by this.