Wednesday, February 27, 2008

EXCERPT: Last Day Of Victimization

Last Day Of Victimization

Linda Wattley

LAST DAY OF VICTIMIZATION is a soulful journey of an ex- victim who survived many forms of abuse. While on this journey, priceless nuggets of wisdom were accumulated revealing the mysteries behind the world’s reasoning for using victimization to survive. Not only will this be revealed but also the reality that “all things work together for good to them that love the Lord”.

This book is for anyone who has been victimized be it rape, molested, robbed, natural causes, birth defects, injustice, etc. It is also for those who love them and would like to assist in their healing process. The contents of this book are written to the spiritual man. When a soul has been victimized, the spirit is vexed and at times enters a state of hopelessness. LAST DAY OF VICTIMIZATION imparts a message from God through the author a spirit of restoration, hope and tools to re-establish their foundation to begin again.

The author knows the plight of being a child of God in a world against love and spirit. The reality of being in the world and not of the world is the truth that will set His people free from His enemies. Today in our prisons, hospitals, homes and the world as a whole, victimization is manifesting in so many forms. The source of this loosed evil is satanic influences the world denies exist. Even the unbeliever will have to question his or herself after reading LAST DAY OF VICTIMIZATION because it presents the evidence that you are either of God or Satan, of the Abel or Cain spirit, Adam or Jesus and or Christ or Anti-Christ.

As the author of this book, I have written a Religious Column for over twelve years for the Frost Illustrated Newspaper in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I had the freedom to share unique truths from my understanding of God to my readers. Today I contribute articles to Faith Writers, The Blessed Room, and The Cheers online Magazine. I am a survivor of childhood molestation, mental, physical and emotional abuse. I have studied Psychology at the University of Akron. In my lifetime, I have read over a thousand books pertaining to God and spirituality. I have also done speaking engagements sharing my experiences with others and encourage survivors that abuse does not have to be a life-sentencing.

My work has answers and spiritual truths for all victims that can be remembered as needed. I am a Christian, yet God has blessed this book to have universal power to reach anyone wanting more out of life than what has been given and experienced. I am honored to deliver this message to the world.

Chapter Three - Victimized Presence

Doses of Reality

As the time passed, I grew too weary to think about what happened to me; instead my interest was in what was it about me that gave my victimizers the signals I could be captured. I went back to the nature of a child because children are the most sought after and innocent victims in the world today. They have the potential to allow love to be given and received. Children give us a chance to do the right thing for humanity.

Compared to a child, I found I as well as people I had talked to who had been victimized, all had a heart to do the right thing by people and life. We tend to have a respect for God and our spirituality. When I accepted this woman as a partner in fulfilling my dream, I was busy praying and hoping to be a blessing in her life because there was no pleasure for me being blessed alone.

Where I was thinking about prospering her life while we worked towards my goals, she was interested in her own progress at my expense. She led me to believe the value of my dream was valuable to her as well. There was not anything childlike about her presence. Her presence in the world joined the other worldly conscious of greedy and selfish people.

Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: 1Peter 5:8

Facing the Victimizer

It was amazing how powerful this woman was inside my mind, heart and soul. For so long I denied the reality that this woman had raped me without putting a hand on me. Mentally, emotionally, soulfully and financially this woman took me from a safe place to an unsafe place in the world.

There were times I would call her on the phone and get no answer. Then I would send e-mails begging her to do the right thing. She would write me back like I was a child, lashing back at me with words making me feel like scum. There were times after reading her e-mails I felt like I was the selfish and inconsiderate person in this adventure knowing deep down I only asked for what was rightfully mine.

I was broken inside in reference to feeling comfortable calling her on the phone. Her voice went through me like thunder causing my insides to tremble so I dared not call her. This behavior just increased my reality of victimization. It also awakened past fears of the voices of my angered mother, stepmother and stepsisters. I could never win with them and subconsciously the reality ruled my life even now.

Facing her was a frightening experience because my soul was aching so badly from the losses that I couldn’t take any vibrations from her. Those concerned for my future and life often told me to be careful because she could give me a terrible reputation in the literary world. Their concerns added to my fears of facing her as I was told of possibly being blackballed. Understanding their concerns, I knew they did not know something deep down inside of me was telling me what to do. It was as though a voice in my mind revealed the predators had to be exposed to help others. This began to give me strength to get beyond the paralyzing fears and the possible outcome of facing my predator.

The thought that I was invisibly raped troubled my mind. I didn’t know how to face her as a person anymore. She had taken everything I worked and sacrificed my life for from me. What do you say to a person who knows they have raped you knowing there is nothing you can do about it? My next question was: How do I face her without communication?

Crazy question, I know, but it did enter my mind. There was a strong need growing in me to let her know what she had done to me. It was crazy because she knew exactly what she had done. Then, I wondered why I could not face her. I had no idea what I was afraid of, then I discovered I was afraid of falling apart. At the time, if she breathed on me, I would die. That is how fragile my emotions had become.

She had awakened the frightened child within.

It was like being a wounded animal injected with deadly venom. My pride was eating me alive as I backed down from facing my victimizer. What was it inside of her that gave her such a dark and evil permission to destroy lives? Surely there was something in her that was not in me. It was like our natures were as different as day and night. I call it the Abel and Cain natures. Cain had a killer instinct while Abel lived to please God.

In this the children of God are manifest, and the children of the devil: whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his brother. 1Jo 3:10

Society attacks early when the individual is helpless.--

B. F. Skinner

Victimizing Children

As a child, life was difficult to face. I had no clue how beautiful life could be. I was consumed by living in a fantasy world filled with angels instead of referring to the loveless, vial and at times violent attacks on the mind, body, soul and spirit of a child in a home consisting of victimizing; today, we use the term dysfunction. I began my journey through life with a foundation established with scars of long term victimization.

I didn’t know anything about love beyond the love introduced to me by my environment. This love did not inform me of being a child of God. It taught me silence is normal. You do not ask questions about your feelings. You just follow grownups.

Being a quiet child, I found it to be my normal identity. My mother told me even as a baby I was quiet. To figure out what would be a normal level of silence for my nature would be difficult to know because when I was molested, my soul was silenced as it quenched the reactions of unlawful touch. That was one of the prices of being molested early in life, you do not know who you really are or would have been if it had not happened.

Victimizing for me as a child consisted of the heart wrenching agony found in adulthood except the pain exists as more normal for me because there were no other feelings to compare to. The developmental stages of understanding life are altered to fit the vibration of victimizing making us susceptible to predators in the future. I didn’t know I carried the vibe. Other abused children and I face the world differently than children who have been loved and nurtured. For sure if you look in our eyes, our souls would reveal our private abyss of darkness. Our eyes do not hold the twinkle found in the eyes of a well nurtured child.

As I revisit the raping of my soul through my literary experience, I imagine many vital emotions and feelings are damaged and shut down mainly for sure my ability to discern danger of predators.

There are people in the world this will never happen to because they are awake to the reality of worldly games people play when they want something from them.

Even today, if you approached me, I will still be gentle and willing to consider the possibility God can show up in your presence. In the world that is considered naïve, stupid in some cases or just plain immature. Does this mean I am retard due to molesting? Or does it mean I will not let victimizing force me to grow tough skin?

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; Matthew 5:44

An Invasion of a Child’s Soul

As I am observing my granddaughter experience the splatter of the waves of water as it poured through the faucet from the bathtub, I marvel in how she is so captivated by the ripples and the freedom to enjoy it without any interruptions. While she was enjoying the wonderment of the wetness of water, I was able to recapture the possibilities of trusting life, my surroundings and light in the newness of each day. All of those things were in her bright beautiful eyes. She sat in the bathtub not concerned about her nakedness. Her body was free to be one with the water; its texture, waves, bubbles etc. There were no worries of any form of invasion, intrusion, unnatural infringements; she was free to blossom and unfold into a free creation of life.

While thinking about how powerful I had become by making the decision to give Jaelynn a bath. I could have made the water too hot or cold, or decided I was going to turn the water off and shorten her moment of pleasure as she splashed the water simply by immediately beginning to take the washcloth and soap and wash her body. Hearing one word from me could’ve interrupted her hypnosis of nature playing with her as the water trickled between her fingers. I could have even begun to wash her hair, something she was not ready to experience. But I chose to give her as much time within reason to enjoy her moment of exploration.

I imagined when I was a couple years older than Jaelynn’s, age five instead of almost two, my father was in the same position I was in; empowered to determine my fate in that moment. I probably felt the wonderful flow of the water and played with the bubbles not knowing I was in the room with a predator I loved. He had the power to enhance my life’s adventure or alter it forever as he sat watching me in the bathtub, wet, and covered with bubbles trusting life. Each moment of sensations be it water, bubbles, my wet flesh, were moments weaving my soul forever.

I am sure I was not concerned about any potential dangers. Daddy was there and he was taking care of me while Mommy was gone.

The washcloth probably felt normal as he began to wash my small frame. Each stroke of the washcloth saturated with soap touched my flesh getting me closer to getting out of the bath tub but then there was no wash cloth instead a wet boney finger flickering me between my legs. I am sure I wondered what was happening as my natural life’s rhythm no longer felt open and moving towards a light instead there is a rumbling inside of me I had no control over. I imagine looking to my dad to save me from the storm. But when I looked in his eyes lightning struck me blinding my eyes and I didn’t see Daddy as I remembered. Instead he was like an old aged tree with branches gripping me. The grip did not scratch me but it interrupted my life’s flow. No longer did I spread my wings instead I kept them closed. Watching Jaelynn, I was sure that’s what happened to me.

I remember one time I was talking to a mother who had entrusted a male babysitter with her three-year old son. She told me how full of life her son was prior to this particular day, she remembered her son being feisty and eager to challenge life. She said that day when she returned the spark in his eyes was gone. He was no longer running around and enjoying his space instead he was sitting upright in a chair with no interest to join others. That was the last day this mother had that baby sitter in her home but it was too late for her son, his natural life flow was already altered and it was never discussed at all.

I saw the hurt in this mother’s eyes as she shared her story. It had been more than thirty years later and this mother still felt the pain of losing her son’s innocence to a man she trusted with her child. She knew what happened to him but she had no idea what it had done to her.

That is how victimizing works. It is like a virus that is extremely contagious and takes root in our souls. It is that presence in our being that is so fragile and fragmented that we can never hold it in our hands. This is what a victimized child faces in the world. While we are trying to hold the internal trauma, the world victimizes us more. This is reality and it aches and this aching becomes a normalcy to be abused by others is a sure sign of normality. Imagine if you will a little girl in the bath tub and a finger flickers the private parts between her legs. She’s trembling while her predator watches with eyes unknown to her; yet she knows something is happening to her and the predator is sending strong and foreign vibrations through his touch and response to her convulsionary reactions of his indulgence.

Finally, he picks her up and embraces her gently in his arms and it seems that is the only thing that stops the volcanic eruption inside her virgin body. He strokes her and tells her he loves her but she is passed out by now. Though she has blacked out, her soul has received impulses that will mar her presence in life forever. She has now become imprisoned to the world of victimization.

What about the little boy who became silenced in his interactions towards life? Was he physically penetrated with a thrust that shattered his soul in one stroke? Unable to explain his reactions to the possible massaging of his private parts along with a possible thrust of his rectum, he too entered the world of victimization without realizing he has been raped.

Before the invasion, life was like flowing uninhibited. No stones or debris could stop the ever unfolding light within that connected the soul to all life. It was safe but as a child you do not realize that is what it is; you are just being and allowing others to be.

But Jesus turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children. Luk 23:28

The barb in the arrow of childhood suffering is this: its intense loneliness, its intense ignorance. ---


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