My last blog addressed courage that rises out of fear. There is another kind of fear that is difficult to accept, especially those abused as children, the fear of change. When I was twelve years old my parents had gone out for the evening. When they didn\u2019t arrive back home at the time they said they would I become distraught, fearfully praying my rosary, pacing the floor, and checking every few minutes to see if their car had pulled into our yard. I just knew they had been killed in an accident. By the time they came home I was a basket case sobbing with relief. My mother tried to comfort me by saying the old platitude \u201cNo news is good news.\u201d She said they were sorry they were late but had run into some old friends and assumed we were all asleep and wouldn\u2019t be worried. Not me. I think the word worried was invented so I\u2019d have a place to store all my fears. The thought of losing both my parents (this was before my dad started his nighttime rape raids) threw me into a state of terror that threatened to swallow me whole. Where would we live? Would we have to move? Would my siblings and I be divided? (Although in the case of one of my sisters it would be a blessing) What would happen to our puppy? I had just graduated with honors into the field of full-blown neurosis. In the coming years being fearful of change would alternately be a blessing and a mind blowing horror.<\/p>\n
\nFear of change is a huge problem. My husband hates change. When we were first married he didn\u2019t like it if I put the wrong spoon in to his coffee cup. It turned out he liked the one that had a slight dent in it and he would quickly place the rejected spoon back in the drawer and take out his treasured one. I thought it was so silly. I had just sold my lovely and spacious home to be with him in Colorado, left my four children and many grandchildren to say nothing of the friends I left behind, quit one job and was preparing to start a totally different one, was going from the frolicking fun of being single where I went to the theater with friends, dances, plays and just plain doing whatever I wanted and he was grumbling about having to use a different spoon. I toyed with the thought of shoving said spoon up his whatever.
\nBy that time I had gone through recovery and knew how to handle change. My husband obviously needed a bit more time on that subject. Today he could care less what spoon I lay out but I could set the clock by wherever he was going to be at any given time in a day so I guess he\u2019s in it for the long haul.<\/p>\n
\nPeople who were abused as children forever seek a safe haven. They pray for a knight in shining armor. I have known children who preferred being with an abusive parent to making the change to a pleasant home. Some people thrive on change but the majority I have known do not, especially survivors of child abuse. It might be abusive but it\u2019s still steadfast. Dad may come home and beat us but at least he comes home. There is a sort of stability in our world of abuse. Even if mom started defending us it would be so out of character that we would be fearful. It is as if we want constancy, dependability, inflexibility and other worlds that have strong boundaries so we never have to worry about change. Therein lies the rub. When we are children we see our parents as dependable and constant. We live in a box so the borders are firm. But inside the box is a smoldering fury, violence, ill-treatment, sexual, emotional, physical and mental abuse even sadism and cruelty that lives alongside the constancy. Change takes courage and in the lives of child abuse survivors just making it through a day robs us of whatever courage we have.<\/p>\n
\nI\u2019ve thought long and hard on the word \u201cchange\u201d. Why is it so fearful? How can we learn to take delight in change? We all love the change of a vacation from work where we can forget our problems and feel free. But in the day-to-day things we lose our courage. Once you go through recovery you will find that change is not the bad guy you thought it was. It may take baby steps to adjust to this new world. As I approached the end of my Bridge of Recovery, I wrote the following words.<\/p>\n
When you are ready to Repair your life it will take courage and it will require change. Some people think better the devil we know than the devil we don\u2019t. I can tell you from first- hand experience that the changes you will go through in Repairing the damage done to you as a child will be your knight in shining honor and the devil you know will disappear.<\/p>\n Good luck with your recovery.<\/p>\n
\nChange has always loomed<\/em>
\nLike a demon in my mind.<\/em>
\nIt pounces sharp on all my plans,<\/em>
\nThe treasures that I find.<\/em>
\nI hate it when it comes to me,<\/em>
\nA smile upon its face.<\/em>
\nDisguised in goodness and character,<\/em>
\nDressed up in pearls and lace.<\/em>
\nMy life is set in front of me,<\/em>
\nPredictable and fast.<\/em>
\nHow dare this wayward, orphan child<\/em>
\nStray me from my task.<\/em>
\nIt flounders, wanders, oscillates<\/em>
\nWith its persistent, nagging voice.<\/em>
\nBent upon surprising me<\/em>
\nWith growth and will and choice.<\/em>
\nBut I can see through all of it,<\/em>
\nThis aim to tempt my fate,<\/em>
\nAnd call adventure to my door,<\/em>
\nWhen I’d really rather wait.<\/em>
\nFor deep inside my cautious heart<\/em>
\nThere lurks a frightened child,<\/em>
\nWho doesn’t know if she can cope,<\/em>
\nWhen change makes her riled.<\/em>
\nWhat if I stumble, lose my way,<\/em>
\nFall and skin my knee?<\/em>
\nWhat if life, who brings this change,<\/em>
\nBecomes an obstacle to me?<\/em>
\nBut I must play the advocate,<\/em>
\nWith deep humility,<\/em>
\nI must admit that without change<\/em>
\nI’m never really free.<\/em><\/p>\n