Dear Dianne

To help your daughter requires her to come to an emotional light that will bring forth a flooding of feeling. Her moving to a spare room indicates that she doesn't want anything to do with her identity, that she wants to move on....her action with regard to movement is at the physical level but she has to break through to the emotional level but the mind blocks it.

Maybe some regression therapy would help her. She would have to be monitored. You see when we are suffering and holding onto repressed emotional trauma at the psyche and emotional level we are dealing with submerged energies...EVERYTHING IS ENERGY...FEELINGS (whether positive or negative)...THOUGHTS (whether positive or negatives)...EMOTIONS(whether positive or negative...HOW WE REACT...THE VOICE INSIDE OUR HEADS, whether positive or negative.

She needs positive reinforcement of who she is..that she is a beautiful spirit...that her body justs houses her spirit and anything that was done to her body...is a thing of the past.
Always our emotions and psyce link with our bodies...we think we are our body when in fact we are mostly space and essence that makes up who we are...

She needs to clear the space within her...the spirit is made up of many layers of energy...layers that house many different lights...ie colours that represent different consciousnes...the spirit will house her hurt and clear it for her...but she needs to be in the light for that to happen and all that is required is she let go of past energies...I say energies..because it was an energy within the person that harmed her that had an intent to harm her.

If your daughter could understand energy and thus separate her identity from the trauma...the past then she will pass through this.

When we all come to understand that the biochemical reactions within us that cause pain and trauma are really originated from energy...our reactions, our thoughts, our feelings then we will have a better handle on our minds, our emotions, our bodies and our destiny.

We are not separate from energy...we can feel a malevolent presence within others...we can feel laughter in others...we can fee another's intent and that affects us at an energetic level, and so when we can come to understand that everyone is moved by energy, their own and the energy in their environment, whether its from people or a place we will not fall into trauma.

Remember it is energy first that affects the biochemical aspects in our brain. Educating the mind with this knowledge will teach the mind not to attach to pain.

To release your daughters pain will reqire many steps....but she will come through. Her light is moving her toward a direction where there is less pain..that is why she has moved to the spare room. It is important though for her to realize why she is doing this so she can take an active presence in moving forward.

The consious mind, when it becomes aware can heal the body and psyche very quickly. It only takes moments sometimes depending on the trauma. It is with the understanding that healing comes....wisdom, depth and truth are what she requires.

You have a great deal of light Dianne...listen within...the answers will surface to help your daughter.

With love leigha

i suffered with depression for a number of years, and i know it was directly linked to having been molested many times over a period of many years, however, it only takes once to severely injure a child emotionally as well as physically...
i didn't have an unhealthy body image in that i didn't have a body image at all...at 25 yrs old and 5'7", i weighed 120lbs -- too thin...
i was 30 when my oldest daughter turned six, the age i was when i was first molested...i began having nightmares the very night of her birthday party...soon after i began having what i can describe only as very imposing daydreams...my whole life i'd get "bouts" of disgust, a sense of self-revulsion i just couldn't shake...they came and went as they pleased...sometimes i would feel things and smell things that weren't there...i didn't tell my husband right away because i thought he'd think i was nuts, after all i did...we lived over 1,000 miles away from my hometown so telling anyone in the family was out...it's not like they would've or could've come to visit...i began seeing a counselor who was very helpful but my feelings of self-worth, rather the lack of them, kept me from going back for long...i joined a group and that was pivotal...i made friends who were saying what i was feeling but too afraid to say...when i became suicidal and said as much, a friend made arrangements at the hospital for me to go and she took me...i was there for 2 weeks, got on meds, felt like complete crap, went home, got a little better, felt worse, and finally went back to the hospital a year later...then i decided to tell all...i was sure i'd be locked up forever but i was already locked up by my own head so i thought i had nothing to lose except (and please understand this was a god awful tearful and horrible thing for any mother to decide) the love and memory of my children...it was a month before i realized i wasn't going to lose my children -- or my mind...i was sick...my heart and my mind were sick...not sick like ewwy, she's mental...i mean sick like my soul had the flu...
i would agree that not as much as needs to be known is known about antidepressants but the same can be said of cancer treatments...bypassing antidepressants when suicidal is a very bad plan...using antidepressants only or expecting them to be a miracle drug is also a very bad plan...
and if i were in charge, all psychiatric facilities would house fitness centers and salad bars...
my recovery was a relentless routine, no one part of which was more or less important than the next, and each was incorporated into my life one thing at a time -- and all with the help of my friends, my therapist, my psychiatrist, and my husband...
i learned a great deal before, during, and after, all of which i share on my homepage through writing and pictures...
it's not impossible to recover from the horrible effects of child sex abuse but it is very difficult for those going through it and for those helping...
"courage to heal" was my bible, my notebooks were my outlets as well as the use of my camera...
having a hyperactive daughter who had been in detention since she was 4 hours old went a long way in helping me as i could not sit still any longer than she did...i wrote about her also on my site -- "mother and child"...the only way i could sleep the sleep of the depressed was to get them to school, set the alarm for 2pm, and get them to bed promptly at 8pm...during this time my husband did almost all of the cooking and cleaning in addition to fixing things, the budget, etc...
the hard part was his deployments which came every year, 6 months at a time, for the first 7 years we were married...i HAD to get up then and i had to STAY up which was so difficult there aren't words to describe it...my friends had husbands who deployed also and many of them got orders as well as my professionals (therapist, etc) getting orders elsewhere so for at least one deployment it was just me and the kids...

it was so hard, i seriously wished to be dead in the morning so many times, and i can't tell you how profoundly disappointing it was to wake up alive some days...i had all my affairs in order down to the very last detail for just this reason...i simply did not want to live...i loathed who i was and how i felt...it still pangs me greatly to hear people talk of those who committed suicide as if they were selfish or some crap...if you've never looked at yourself in the mirror and were so disgusted and revolted by what you saw that you could barely decide between rope, knife or gun, then you don't know what that person felt and you should fall down on your knees praising the heavens that you don't know how that feels...
to come back from the edge of one's own existence, to face and then face down one's own demons (demons that originated with someone else and that had no right to invade a child's life to begin with), is astronomically hard...that it's impossible for some is as forgiveable as not recovering from cancer...

just as we all learn differently (some learn by touching, some by hearing, some by seeing, etc), we all recover from our traumas differently...everyone has a different way to the park, and some can't get there by just one mode of transportation...i'm very much like my hyperactive daughter in that i bore easily and that boredom sucks the life, energy, and motivation right out of me, so i got to the park via bicycle, pogo stick, hopscotch, running, walking, swinging from tree to tree, etc...
no one thing worked because it was going to take many, many things...high maintenance? sure...bad? wrong? not worth the effort? NO!

the beautiful thing about uncovering memories, as ghastly and unfit for polite conversation as they were, is that i also remembered my mother reaching between the slats of my crib and stroking my face...i remember climbing the first low branches of a tree with my greatgrandmother and helping her pick strawberries from her massive garden...i didn't pick them...i sat on the dewy morning grass and ate them off the plants while she told me stories that are still a little fuzzy but i remember how i felt and how she smelled and it was wonderful...

i filled many many notebooks, photo albums, and prescriptions in my long haul to get well...
i destroyed many a pillow by first screaming into them til i was so hoarse i couldn't speak and then ripping them to shreds...
i learned yoga, relaxation, meditation, and visualization...
i worked out a lot and let me tell you, there is no heavier weight on this planet than the weight of your own body when you don't like your body...getting it to move was soooo hard and getting it to keep moving was harder...i was fine some 45 minutes into a routine but i always had to stop and it was as if i had done nothing because the next day it was just like starting all over again -- and it was like that for about 6 months...but every time i worked out my brain cleared and i felt like i could take a full breath without seizing with panic and anxiety so i spent the other 23 hours reminding myself how good it felt, and while that played out as a big "so freakin' what?!" in my head day after day, my reminders did finally win out...

i can't stress enough that i didn't get here by myself...without my husband, my kids, my friends, and the professionals in my life, there's no way in hell i would've made it...maybe i could've done with less people, but there's no way i would've made it without some of them, most decidedly those who said they loved me...
it was so hard to unmesh my sexual self from the parts of me riveted with disgust, shame, and the tendency to throw up at the slightest whiff of old spice and craftsman tools...i had to have others reminding me constantly that sex and abuse are NOT the same, that it wasn't my fault, that i was the same person i was before any of that happened, that i could clear my system of the poison they left behind...

i genuinely feel like i'm on the "other side" of all that, that i'm where i was before they got ahold of me...i AM innocent, clean, pure, creative, funny, imaginative, resourceful, tireless, and pretty...

it was so hard, so hard on me and those around me...i literally owe them my life and i will always hold a special place in my heart for them...

there is a way through the horrible legacy that is being abused as a child, and for many those paths are going to be winding and numerous...yes, it will be frightening and weary and rife with sorrow and hard on every part of the soul and for every bone in the body -- and do it anyway! it is the best thing ever to get through it...
every effort lets in just a little more light, a little more of the smell of flowers you couldn't see before, a little more of who you really, really are...
that frightened me the most frankly -- what if i found out who i was and it was nobody or worse, someone i didn't like?
well, what if crickets had shotguns -- crows wouldn't mess with 'em...
i am someone, and i'm someone i like -- and the same is true of every woman i've been graced and honored with knowing who has done the same thing...
i was most fortunate to recover with over 1,000 miles of distance between me and those who should've been killed outright for what they did...but that distance wasn't enough to conquer what they did...
I AM what conquered what they did...i wear my honor bravely and with much pride because i earned this person i am with every bead of sweat, every tear, every scream, and every day i bothered to lift my head just one more time...

How very, very gracious of you to open up and try to help. You're a very brave woman and Leigha, I also appreciate your words. Ladies, you're both wonderful.

She's back in her room, started a new job and is exercising again. Looks like she's pulling out of it...finally. I think the new job is what's helping the most.

I appreciate your help so much.

msdiana thank you for your posting.

There is definitely a genetic component to depression. My 91-year-old mother has battled depression since she was 15 years old. I've battled it for my entire life. I grew up in a house of depression which was worsened by the death of my older sister (she was only 4) from leukemia when I was 2 years old and my younger sister was only 5 weeks old. My 17-year-old daughter also has depression. So, there's the genetic component and there are the environmental triggers. So, far my 15-year-old daughter has escaped the "family disease." For all of us, anti-depressants and cognitive-behavioral therapy have been a life-saver.

I don't care what the long term effects of anti-depressant use are because I know that the short-term effects of depression are devastating. Unless a person has been clinically depressed, there is no way that they can understand how horrible it is. I can truly understand why people kill themselves --- in their minds, it's the only way to escape the unrelenting pain.

We all have to do the best we can and use the tools that are available to us to make our lives that best that they can be.

Diana, your post was read with heartfelt interest. Thank you for pouring out your story in these forums where other women can read and learn from your experiences. I was touched by your battle and most grateful for your victory. I pray you live life to the fullest.

Dianne, I continue to pray for your daughter. I know it all comes in baby steps, but I'm glad to see she's taken the big step of a new job (frightening in itself) and is exercising again! Onward!

I started crying when I read your post.

When I was younger, I wouldn't go to school because I was overweight. We had to go to family court & I was sent to live at an all girls school.
I didn't belong there--the girls were from troubled homes--abandoned--and then some. I think I still suffer from being there to this day.

ANYWAY!!! I never realized what I put my parents thru during that time. I found my father's little journel he kept after he died & I cried my eyes out!!!

I so feel for you!!!! Do not give up on your daughter!! Try anything & everything to help her!
It might be the smallest thing that will mean so much to help her.

I am thinking of you & your daughter.

So many of your stories break my heart. You've been through so much.

She was forced to sleep in her bed when my oldest son and his boys came to visit. The boys slept with her. Seems to have helped. She started a new job and loves it so that has also helped. As I told Dotsie, she's started working out again, which is a good sign.

I deeply appreciate all of your help. Thanks so much.

Those are such good signs, that she can enjoy her new job AND has started working out again. I'll continue to keep her in my heart-prayers that as she begins to do these good things for herself, she'll also start to feel better about herself.

Dianne, as you know from reading my book, there is no cure for those surviving sexual abuse. But as msdian says, it is not impossible to manage the effects. I am glad to hear your daughter is doing better. As one who attempted suicide, I must admit that I often pretended to be better in order to relieve those around me from the burden of my depression. People often attempt suicide not in their most depressed state, but in their more energetic states. I don't care what the long term effects of anti depressants are. I wouldn't be here today had I not been prescribed the "newer" anti-depressants. Also, I could not recover from abuse without them. The meds helped me to cope and clarify so that I could get to the deeper issues related to being sexually and otherwise abused. On the other hand, anti-ds are NOT a cure all or a fix it. Mental health requires a variety of therapies, including counseling. One thing that your daughter has, Dianne, and that is you. As you know, my mother was not available to me. She thought that at 19 I was too old to live in their house, and she forced me out before I was ready to live on my own. How can a bird fly from the nest when the wings have been broken? How can a bird feed herself when her beak has been slammed shut with the duct tape of silence and stigma related to abuse? How could I create a safe nest of my own when I had no role models? Thank God your daughter has a safety net in you should she fall. I'm so sorry to hear about both of your daughters being molested. I would not bypass long term therapy for both of them because the effects of abuse rear their ugly heads time and time again without proper processing. Have you given either of your daughters my book? I wrote it for them. Also, they could visit my web site to see that they are not alone and for recommended readings. You might be interested in the article I wrote about the incidence of suicide after sexual assault ( I don't mean to scare you...just saying it is a common phenomena.) Okay, nuff said for now, Love and Light, Lynn

Kay B, If I understand your post correctly, the school reported your family for you not going to school. I went through being over weight as a teen. I had always been under weight. After the abuse first from my father and then from my brother, I used food to fed my emotional needs and to insulate my body from abuse. There were many times that I did not want to go to school. I was so ashamed of my body size that when I did it, it was in secret in the girls' lavatory toilet stall. Imagine eating lunch in toilet stall! My parents sent me to a psych ward for troubled teens. I learned more about how to abuse drugs in that ward than from the streets! I agree with what you said to Dianne: you never know when the smallest thing may reach someone. (Like Eagle's signature line.) I hope you, Kay, can clear your mind of that time in the girls' school, and relieve yourself of any guilt you may have for what you put your family through. You were just a child, my dear! Just a child! Love and Light, Lynn