Strangers with Familiar Faces

Sometimes I think of things to write about on here and then I don’t, I think I don’t want to sound as though I am depressed or only write dark kind of posts. I am not after pity, mostly support, and sharing my journey. I think sometimes I lose track of that. I post here to help me, but also to help those that might come across my words with the same issues. I know, realising  I am not alone and that one person understands means more to me than any form of sympathy.

So I think I lost sight of what I started this for and so have not posted many thoughts.

A few weeks ago, when the weather was great I had a barbeque at my house, it didn’t actually start that way, but it’s what it turned into. In many ways I am glad, what started to be something for one of my children became a day where lots of things happened for me.BBQ

For starters, I ate barbequed food. That’s huge for me. I love food cooked on a barbeque, but my OCD had stolen that from me and really it had been a good ten years since I have dared to enjoy food like that. I ate crisps with my hands (potato chips to my American readers).

I had people in my house and I didn’t watch what they touched, didn’t freak out internally every time someone wanted to use my bathroom. I didn’t freak out later that many people had used it and now I had to clean it.

I didn’t panic at my children eating food with their fingers. I didn’t panic when the children and friends took their empty plates and things into the kitchen or when someone other than me opened bread rolls or salad.

Maybe these are little things, but to me, these are things that would have sent me on some odd kind of anxiety day until I couldn’t breathe.

Perhaps though, the most important realisation was my father. I hadn’t seen him for the best part of a year, my choice really. He came with my brother and they sat away from everyone else. I talked to them and I was pleasant enough, but really, I didn’t fit there anymore. I didn’t want to. I realised that I didn’t belong with them. They were just strangers with familiar faces.

When he asked me how I was doing with my schooling I wasn’t afraid to tell him, maybe it was because there were a lot of people around and I knew that he wouldn’t belittle me then or maybe it was just because I’m happy and I wasn’t letting him spoil it.

Afterwards when he left and I saw him out, we stood around the front of my house and for the first time I looked at him, really looked at him. I thought to myself, I know what you did to me. That kind of thing has never crossed my mind before, I don’t know where it came from, but maybe that in itself was another achievement for me that day.

Birthday Wishes

I find that the people that touch us the most are the ones we don’t expect to come along. They pop up like surprise and leave you feeling great inside. Maybe that’s their purpose, maybe it’s our purpose to pop into each other’s lives and make them better. If we stay or go, I don’t think it matters, but as long as the footprint that gets left behind is one of love and kindness, that is what is important.

Last month I received an email that touched me in such a way, from a wonderful young girl who had read my books and taken to them so much that she wrote a fan fiction. It felt so amazing to mean that much to a reader, that she would spend time on something and message me about it.

Today is her birthday. I wanted to make sure that she knew how much I appreciated what she had done and loved what she had written. She truly is an amazing writer.

Happy Birthday Nafisa!!! 

naf

I hope that your day is as wonderful as you are and that you enjoy it to the fullest. It’s your day, this one and everyone after it. Make them your own and thank you for taking the time to write and to message me. I hope that you keep writing, you work was so great to read.

Happy Birthday once again,

Much love and care.

JD

Stupid Boy

A good friend of mine and fellow author Azure Boone read Teddy three, which at the moment I affectionately call Stupid Boy. Its a working title at the moment. She thought to write a review of it so far and said I could share it here. 

So, I beta read Dear Teddy part three by JD Stockholm.  The current working title is I think is “Teddy and Stupid Boy”

When he sent me the file, it was titled Stupid Boy. First thing I wanted to do was change it. Isn’t that how we are though? Wanting to just erase the wrong, and make it right? I did that throughout the manuscript in fact, changed words to erase the lies. I was like an out of control parent, storming through his past and rewriting shit like it might actually help.

He said he got a good laugh, so, I’m glad for that.

But you know, the most amazing thing happened while I read book three. I began to really understand this kid. I began to “get” why he didn’t want to look in the mirror, “get” why he felt “bad”.

Reading these accounts in the child’s pov has allowed me to actually watch how the abuse took hold of him, how he processed it and how his phobias were born.

Tremendously educational while at the same time, horrific.

Some things that really struck me in book three, I mean really slapped awe into me, was this kid’s compassion! The best way for me to explain it, is to show it. Warning…this scene is taken from the part in his life when he’s being sexually abused by strangers all day long at a “camp” his “parents” sent him to:

My hand is sore. I don’t be able to hold the cover very tight. The girl next to me has too much and I don’t be able to pull it back. The dark man made it all sore because he squished it all down. He didn’t mean to. He said he was sorry about it. I told him it was okay. I didn’t want him to be sad about it.

I swear. This broke my heart. I mean, here’s this sweet kid, suffering the most horrific shit, and he has the heart to care about the man who hurt him. Un-believable. Truly.  I couldn’t even comment on what form of torture would befit this mother-effer. I was too blown away.

What’s different about book three too is the whole Stupid Boy theme. At this time, this kid is sure he’s got to be the most stupid kid on the planet. He can’t do anything right, everything he does makes people hate him and hurt him. The author opens every chapter with a small Stupid Boy story that summarizes what the chapter holds. So very clever, and as usual, the voice, the vocabulary, is just remarkable. I mean, Stupid Boy is my hero! I love Stupid Boy, he’s like the most awesome kid on the planet to me. He was even nice to the monsters in his stories:

Stupid Boy and his friends all went out for the day. They went to the big hills that touched the sky. They climbed the hills. It took a long, long time. Maybe a week. There was lots and lots of snow. It was all white and shiny and cold.

Mr. Ted thought maybe there would be penguins. They got to hear a growl outside. It was a snow monster. It was all big and scary.  He got big giant claws that was all black. He got sharp teeth too and was going to eat everyone all up.

Mr. Ted and Stupid Boy got their swords and went outside to chop the monster up. Mr. Ted hit the monster with his sword and the monster cried.

Stupid Boy feeled sad in his tummy. The snow monster was cold. He wanted to sit in the tent by the fire.

They all got to be friends.

I vote Stupid Boy for president!

Another amazing thing I learned was why the child in the story thought he was bad. He didn’t like when his father did sexual things to him, and so, he was sure it was the bad inside him that made him not like the sexual things his father and mother made him do. His parents were so good at pretending it was normal and good, that the child figured he was the bad one for having a problem with it!

That just blew me away when I realized that was happening.

I think the end of this book was the hardest for me to read out of all the books so far. In fact, I even told him, “I don’t think you’re going to be able to put this, it’s too horrible, people aren’t going to be able to read it.”

And it was only a day’s account at that hellish camp they sentenced him to. I asked him how long he went there. He told me every weekend and during holidays, for nearly two years!

Why was this abuse worse? Because it hurt him more. He wanted to go home. He wanted his mom. His dad. This abuse at the hands of strangers was much worse on his psyche than any other. And it went on for nearly two years. The reader wouldn’t be able to endure that torture, because I believe they become very tied to him throughout the book and would feel like they were making him live it again.

And for others like me, if it’s there, I must read it. Or I will feel like he’s shared something and I have left him alone to bear it. So, I’m not sure how much of it will get left or removed, but, I do hope he does whatever he needs to.

Well, this concludes my review on the Dear Teddy part 3 book with the working title of Teddy And Stupid Boy.  I thank the author for allowing me the privilege of reading this account and not being angry at me for marking it all up with my temper tantrums. Be looking for the release, it’s coming soon! Help me spread the news, help the author educate the public about the hidden side of child abuse.

 

Read it on her site here.

You left

You left

And I was done

I cried for you

You didn’t come

I wondered why

I was all alone

Left

Why?

What did I do?

 

 

I tried so hard

Didn’t you see?

I did it for you

The badness inside

It controlled me

 

Is that why you did it?

So sneaky behind my back

So you could laugh

Sit and make your plans

Like a plan of attack

 

My innocence

It never expected

The designs

No clue

Broken

Disrespected

 

You did it like I was nothing

What was I supposed to do with that?

Thank you?

Inside my horror

Made its bed.

There’s a place

There’s a place

 

There’s a place

It’s not so far away

Just around the corner

The corners of my memories

The things I’m afraid to say

 

The doors are painted white

The mirage of none hell

Inside a vicious torturer

Far worse than any devil

Just my enemy in sight

 

Death comes with the clicking of a lock

Closed down

Kept

And afraid to move

Every escape completely blocked.

 

No whispers from my lips will fall

No echo of their crimes

Faceless villains

Taking what’s theirs

Indulging in sick past times.

 

From my flesh

They stole my soul

The things they made me do

Just a child, a boy I was

No longer left whole.

 

Held down in suffering

Burnt, beaten and betrayed

No sounds to save us from this place

Cries not heard by the deaf

But the dirty and afraid.

 

Cameras clicked at every angle

Snapshots of fake smiles

Behind the vile picture

Tears

Forced labour of our trials.

 

So many men through the day

Some came to us at night

Spending black gold

Their perverted actions

Their right.

 

A nameless boy I was

Laid frightened and alone

To sore to move

To afraid to be still

Raped, taken for their own.

 

My notebook holds all my sins

My teddy in my arms

Holding onto every secret

The guardian of my pain

My written words of harm

 

Go now that you have seen

Look away and close this book

Don’t think of me at all from now

There’s nothing for you to see

I beg you, please don’t look.

 

The shameful images in my heart

Aren’t what you want to now

But rather, a happy child

The lies his life does tell

Your guilt is free to go.

 

I held your hand so many times

Wishing that you’d see

The innocent child waiting for you

Your son.

You never came for me.

I asked you to stop.

I asked you to stop.

 

How could you

How could you

I asked you to stop

But like always you didn’t

Just a moment you said

I pushed with my hand

Because you hurt me so much

One minute is all you said

Because you didn’t care

I hate you so much

I cried and I pleaded but you didn’t cease

I’m so f****** angry

That I can’t get it out

It’s your fault that I’m like this

You did this to me

I hate you

I hate you

My brother was watching

You tarnished him too

He held my hand when I cried that night

Not you or my mother

No, you laughed and you joked

And none of you cared

I hope that you’re happy

I can’t even love you

Through Darkness

Through Darkness

 

Through darkness comes help unexpected

Friendship unknown from secret places

Blind, wandering through an abyss of sorrow

Reaching in, staggered with concerned faces.

 

A life that is not alone

Is a mystery to me

The sounds of silence fill my world

I often wish, a dream, maybe.

 

To touch the things

I cannot have

Stolen, gone, not mine,

Taken in greed and insecurities.

 

In times of anger and my pain

Through the tears and stress

A test, the gift, a treasure that I see

One of joy, honesty and sincere happiness.

 

Handed to me, when in need

When it seems there’s no way through

Heroes of unrealised friendships

I thank you.