Lynn, how long did it take you to write your book and what compelled you to do so? Mine was that nagging inner voice that wouldn't shut up. How about you?

Hi Smile, I'm sorry you experienced abuse, and so glad you were able to get out with your self intact. You wrote: "I may be the exception, but I was weakened by helplessness. I was empowered by responsibility for my own actions. I am not a victim." Yes, yes, yes! Something inherent in the victim status is "learned helplessness" which is a condition I developed. And, it was counseling that helped me to understand responsiblity for myself and my actions. LLL

The following is a portion of the book. Karen, my counselor, is talking to me: “You perceive yourself as a victim and are led into circumstances that continue the victim role. The inner resources to defend your self were eroded by the myth that men are a force to fear. The fact is that men and women are equal in the emotional and spiritual levels. It’s possible to transform from a vulnerable target to an empowered woman, but you need to develop the strength and skills required to be independent. Change your way of living by changing your way of thinking.”
“How can I do that?”
“You can replace negative self-talk with optimistic thoughts,” Karen said. “It is possible to change a negative perspective on life into a positive life force if you keep a sense of proportion.”
“Oh, so not every minor inconvenience leads to a major catastrophe.”
“Exactly. It’s up to you to make the conscious choices that bring about a better future. Find new methods to deal with old routines. You have to take charge of your life, to be accountable to yourself and responsible toward others.” Of course, easier said than done!

Hi Dianne, it took me years to write my book. Here's a part of the prologue to answer your quesiton of what compelled me: "My desire to share a message of healing from trauma became too strong to ignore; the book became a mission. I left the corporate environment to write my story about personal yet universal emotional issues. Although journal writing was a cathartic experience, the book was written with the courage to face my fears, with compassion for myself and others, and a conviction to tell the truth." The heart felt urging to write this book became greater than all the reasons my mind could conjure up NOT to write it. I'd say that it took me 5 years to write after thinking about it for 20 years. I had journals, poems, and prayers to help me. Sometimes I would write obsessively for 12 hours a day; other times I was so emotionally drained I had to stop writing for a month, or two. But the internal urgings always prevailed, until I realized this was a job that had to be done. It was hard emotional work, and sometimes what I was writing sent me back to therapy for a refresher course in coping! Even after I thought the book was "finished" I did not pursue publishing for a year because I was so concerned about "what would others think" including my family. Then, the need to publish the book to help others became greater than the need to protect my family. I attribute the book to a Higher Power that guided me to completion and publishing. I have wondered why I was not instructed to do a romance novel! I pray that there will be peace enough in our families that books like ours will no longer be lived, then shared!

Unique wrote that you don't have to be beaten to be abused. Here's some dialogue from the book: Todd was the man I was married to, and Sally was my friend who met Todd. Karen became my counselor *** "Todd bullied me: “I ought-a wup you upside the head” or “I ought-a haul off and kick you in the ass,” and sometimes he did just that. He grabbed my arm, squeezed it hard, and twisted both his hands around it, until I bruised. “If you weren’t such a skinny runt, you wouldn’t bruise so easy,” he would justify.
Sally told me, “Todd’s abusing you.”
“No, he never beat me with a broom or broke a bone.”
“It’s abuse, plain and simple.”
As I was telling this to Karen, she confirmed the abuse: “Putdowns, name calling and threatening behavior, as well as hitting you, then denying that he hurt you, are all forms of abuse.”
I recognized a frame of reference regarding my family. My father was like a jack-in-the-box, ready to spring without warning. I was all wound up, ready to strike in defense. According to my father, I was the one who was high-strung. I did not know where his tension ended and mine began. When I was around him, I was on guard, watching for his next move. My older brother imitated our father; Eric bullied me by shoving me back, pushing me forward, staring me down, and kicking me under the table. The exact scenarios applied to Todd." I did not recognize abuse even as I experienced it!

Dian wrote: "A true victim is one that is not in control of their life and their chances of being "rehabilitated" are very small." Thank God I moved from victim to survivor. One of the great growth areas for me was in assertiveness training. Here's a segment from the book: "In the assertiveness training sessions, I learned that I was indeed passive-aggressive, allowing emotions to simmer until they exploded like an untended pressure-cooker. An assertive personality considers everyone’s rights while striking a balance between compliance and resistance. I learned that “no” is an acceptable answer all by itself. No. No. No. I had the right to say no, and the right not to feel guilty about saying no.
I learned how body language conveys messages. The psychiatric aide pointed out that I usually stood with my arms folded across my chest, as if to hold myself together. Or I sat on a couch with a pillow over my abdomen, as if to protect myself. In the assertiveness class, the aide encouraged me to practice standing in an upright posture that demonstrated control of my surroundings." Being assertive opened up avenues of empowerment for me.

The power and control information came from a text used in a class for "Men Who Batter." The YWCA where I worked conducted these classes which were 99% court mandated cases. In other words, rarely, if ever, would a man enroll in the class on a voluntary basis. Not only did the men get court mandated to attend after being convicted of assault, but they also had to pay to attend. I never taught these classes, but observed several times. I knew I had accomplished a strong sense of self when I was able to sit in the room facing a group of men who were known wife beaters. (And a couple of gay men who had battered their male lovers.) Unfortunately, there was no way to measure the rewards of the class. A guy could report to his probation officer that he no longer beat his wife or girlfriend or kids, but it was on an honor system. Who was going to believe a known offender? As a social worker, I did not like working with men. I admitted this every time in peer evaluations and self-evaluations. "What population are you least likely to serve?" The male batterers. Yet, I was most likely to be across the hall, tending to the "at risk" mothers who needed 3 hours a week to themselves in "Mom's Time Out." Anyway, I did not coin the phrase "makes her do..." but the language was appropriate to the class.

Making me commit criminal acts. Hmmmm... got me thinking. In the book, my cousin Annie and one of her low life boyfriends convince me to pass a fraudulent prescription to a pharmacisit. How in the world did they manage to make me do this potential felony? I was at such a loss for love that I would have done anything to find favor with my cousin, who I loved like a sister. No, they didn't force me to felony; my fears of lack of love forced me to it. They did not hold a gun to my head (although he had guns.) Figuratively speaking, the gun to my head was the exteme need for love. I wanted my own cousin to love me, like we loved each other in childhood. But in early adulthood, our love had been adulterated by abuse and its ramifications of drug use. I never considered that they made me do it, but I allowed myself to be a victim and a patsy because my self-esteem was so low that I thought it, I, didn't matter anyway. Lo and behold, neither of them is alive. He was killed in gang related activity, and she, well, she died in a DUI accident. I wish she had lived longer so that we could have reignited our childhood love, and so I could tell her there were ways to move into the light.

Hi friends, if I've missed something you want to talk about, or if you want to talk about something else, please let me know. I am here for you! And I put a deposit down on a house today! Yeah, I am becoming a permanent Colorado resident! Yippee Skippee!

Lynn - I'd like to know more about the writing process. How did you organize your material and did you follow a schedule for writing?