Darker Days

As I begin to write this, my hands are shaking, my chest feels constricted, and my heart is racing.

Dark clouds have dimmed my days over these past two months. What caused it all exactly, I'm not sure. It may be that I was out of options for course selections for this summer and had no choice but to enrol in a child sexual abuse (CSA) course at university. Maybe it was coming home from my trip to Brazil and experiencing reverse culture shock, which tends to make me cynical, bitter, and antisocial. It could also be that I'm so burned out from life, school, multiple jobs, financial stress, and all of these things that can all too often be overwhelming. Undoubtedly, these dark days were caused by a mixture of all of what was mentioned above, and my past experience has once again caught up to me.

I'm struggling to put into words how impairing it feels to constantly be overcome with anxiety, panic attacks, flash backs, nightmares, and depression. When I began to do the course readings for my CSA course, I started to identify with what was being discussed. Guilt strong enough to keep you awake at night. Migraines. Constant body aches. You guessed it, all long term effects of trauma from being sexually abused, on top of depression and anxiety. I feel so angry at my abuse. It is a ball that has chained itself to my body, I carry it around with me everywhere – I get stronger because I have no choice but to, however I also tire from being tethered to it. I do not always think about my abuse, sometimes weeks can pass and it will not cross my mind, but other times it weighs heavy on me, and it cripples my ability to do anything. I'm not sure my father understands the life sentence he has given me. He did his time in prison for his crimes, but I'm left to handle this for the rest of my life. I don't think justice was served.

There have been numerous sleepless nights scared of the dreams that haunt me. It's just as scary to be awake. Flashbacks of my abuse that come from triggers that I wasn't aware existed. They've sent me to the floor in the fetal position, shaking and crying, completely taking over my mind and body. Panic attacks that tighten my chest, my heart races, my body shakes, my mind spins. And I'm in a constant melancholic state, regardless of other wonderful events happening around me. I want to be back to where I was just a few months ago, happy, satisfied, and loving life – but this monster in my brain protests, it demands to be acknowledged and dealt with.

I'm tired of running away from my demons. I'm tired of pretending to be happy, putting on a smile. When I walk through my door at the end of the day I fall to pieces. I'm embarrassed that I'm incapable of being strong for everyone else around me, that I can't always keep it all together. I feel guilty when disclosing how I'm feeling to people who are my support system, because I don't want it to burden them. I feel isolated, even with loving family and friends, and my partner who offers me an abundance of support and empathy.

I hope my current battle will be over soon, as my body, mind, and heart are fatigued. I'm not sure how to end this, because I'm not sure where I am.

Kora Liegh

Frustrations with the Media

Note: I am writing this as my own personal opinion and it is not the opinion of any organization or group that I am affiliated with.

Yesterday I was excited. The second annual Miles for Smiles took place, a walk to raise awareness about and for the prevention of all forms of child abuse. Despite the cold and misty weather the event was successful and all of the time and effort put in by our team was visible and everything fell into place.

However, yesterday I was also upset. There was not one media outlet in attendance at this event. Not a single one. Press releases were sent out to all newspapers, radio stations, and television stations in Newfoundland and Labrador explaining the event and its importance, both several days before the event and the day before. Why was this not news-worthy? Why isn't this something that the public should be made aware of?

I am not upset because I wanted news outlets to toot our horn, I didn't want a pat on the back, I didn't want sympathy for my experience as an abused child. I wanted to show the province that child abuse is more than present here, it's an epidemic, it's real, it's happening. Our ultimate goal is the prevention of child abuse and the only way this is going to happen is if we create awareness. We're here, we're creating awareness, but the media turned a blind eye.

Maybe the media didn't want to pay attention to our cause because it hasn't been turned into a franchise, because we aren't accepting donations, because it isn't sensational to report about. If it had been the trial of a serial sex offender the media would have been there to report. Good, you caught the bastard and you're trying them. Question: what about the child(ren) that were abused? How about trying to prevent child abuse from happening in the first place, raising awareness, teaching children their rights and how to protect themselves from not just strangers but loved ones. PREVENTION. If I could scream this from behind my keyboard I would. PREVENTION.

I wonder if our cause is too hard to swallow for some people. If hearing about child abuse puts a lump in your throat, if it makes you feel nauseous, if it makes you angry, then that is your first clue that you should take action. If you are a parent, an aunt or uncle, grandparent, friends with someone who has a child(ren), a teacher, or have children in your life that you care about in any capacity, this cause is one that is undoubtedly important to you.

Mayor O'Keefe remarked during his opening comments yesterday that if there was a pothole in the city that needed fixing, the media and community would be up in arms about it, however child abuse gets pushed to the back burner. People who care about potholes care because they can see how it affects them directly. Child abuse affects you too, even if you aren't a victim or know a victim personally. Victims of child abuse are scarred for life – some turn to crime, to substance abuse, others become abusers themselves, many struggle with mental illnesses such as PTSD, anxiety, depression, and so on, others use their voice to fight child abuse. You interact with victims on a daily basis whether you know it or not, and their experience has both direct and indirect impacts on you and what happens in your community.

Child abuse isn't the only cause that gets the shaft in the media, I'm aware of many causes that attempt to attract the media to their events with limited success. Then there are causes where there is hardly a need anymore for media attention because they are bubbling over with support, attention, and donations that they hardly know where to allocate it or what to do with it. The presence of some causes are well established in the province, the country, and internationally, enabling them to have the resources and the human-power to garner the support they need to see their cause recognized. These causes are so sensational that it becomes necessary for the media to be there, to tell their story that we can all recite effortlessly already.

What I am not saying here is that these causes that have a grasp on the medias attention are not worthy of it – they are important and are worthwhile causes. What I am saying here is that there are multiple causes out there that too deserve the medias support in promoting the work that they do. If the media took greater pride in working with organizations and people in the awareness and prevention of causes, there would be less people affected by what the cause is trying to stop in the first place.

Thank you to everyone who has shown myself and other victims support, who came out to the event yesterday or who have gone to similar events, and for all of you whom I don't know who are dedicated to worthwhile causes around the globe. As April wraps up and National Child Abuse Awareness/Prevention month comes to an end, the work doesn't stop there. We need to continue raising awareness about and preventing child abuse in all its forms.

Peace, love, and happiness,

Kora Liegh

Losses

I'm evidently terrible at having a blog, and my apologies to all of you who were hoping that I would post regularly. Writing about my experience is tougher than I had imagined it would be and trying to figure out what I should write about has been a challenging feat in itself. It's hard to write when I don't feel what I felt that day was significant, however seeing as I haven't posted in several months it's easy to see that I don't allow myself to recognize my experiences or believe them to be useful to anyone who happens to read this blog. What I would like to ask of you, my readers, is to tell me topics that you would like me to write about or to ask me questions – I feel like if we do it this way I will be able to write and post more frequently so that we can make this blog a source of comfort and inspiration for other people, as that was my initial reason for starting the blog.

There has been a few things that have happened since September, I'll write about one of the things that happened for today's post. The hardest has been the passing of my grandmother – my Mom's mom. Now, my grandmother was no ordinary grandmother, although I doubt anyone would ever suggest that their grandmother was anything other than extraordinary, but I digress. Nan Norman was one of the most important actors in helping me and my family get over what had happened to us. She supported us in every way possible, but most importantly she gave us the love we needed to stay strong and to overcome our hardships. Nan hadn't been one of the first people to know when I first told – we actually didn't tell her till months afterword, as my Pop, her husband, was sick with cancer and passed away exactly two months after I told Josh. Even through her heartache and grief she was our rock, and there are no words of gratitude that will suffice for what she did for us through those 10 years.

I've lost several people over the years, but there hasn't been a loss that has hurt my heart so badly as hers. She passed on December 17, 2013, just before Christmas, after a long, long struggle with sickness. Number 17 continues to be my unlucky number, as everything bad that has ever happened to me has happened on a 17^th. Nan wasn't just my grandmother, she was one of my best friends, and she was a second mom to me and my brothers. We had a special bond, the two of us, and I didn't feel like there was anything I couldn't tell her or that she couldn't tell me. I would call her up whenever I needed someone to talk to, many times about the challenges I was facing in dealing with my abuse, and she would always listen, she would share my pain, cry with me, be angry with me, laugh with me. Even years after I had told, Nan has been one of few people who I could trust with my pain entirely and who I knew felt my pain as deeply as I did. While I've never wanted to project my pain onto anyone else, it was comforting to know that I had someone to share it with me, and she did. I lost one of the most important people that I had in my life, one of the few people who helped me carry the burden of my abuse, one of the people who loved me wholeheartedly without fail, one of my biggest teachers in life, and one who believed I could do anything I set my mind to. I'm missing one of the pillars of my strength, I'm lopsided now, and there's nothing that can take her place.

What few people know about my Nan is that she was unknowingly the person who helped me see what was happening to me was wrong. Aaron and I were at Nan and Pops for a sleepover when I was 8 and he was 11. We were in the room we called our Uncle's and were watching a made-for-TV-movie. It was about a daughter who had a little sister and brother, and her Dad was sexually abusing her. She was the oldest and didn't want her father to do the same thing to her siblings as he done to her, so she would make sure it happened to her and not to them. (I have looked high and low for this movie but have failed in my efforts). I remember Nan coming into the room to talk to us both about sexual abuse and I can still hear her say as plain as day, “It doesn't matter if it's your dad, your grandfather, your mother, anyone. They're not allowed to do this to you and if they do, tell somebody.” She was the one who saved me, indirectly, unknowingly. I never told her that and I don't know why. I never told her that and I should have.

Thank you Nan for everything that you did for me, Mom, and the boys. Thank you for saving me. I hope you know how much you mean to me, how much I think of you, how much I miss you. I had you in my life for 21 years, but I'll have you in my heart forever.

As you can see, she is a very important person in my life. She's the first person I've lost who was essential to me and my healing process over the years, and I feel lost without her. This is a new struggle for me as I never realized that over time the people who were so integral to my experience would someday be gone. I know that she's with me now in a different way but the grief is never ending.

Peace, love, and happiness,

Kora Liegh

UPDATE: After I posted my blog today, my brother Aaron contacted me to tell me that he found the video when he searched again today. The movie is Liar Liar (1993). It can be found on Youtube here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PeReymnxJmw. 

Nan and I