10 Songs to Silence the Voices

One of the things that I have always turned to is music. When I was 6 my primary school announced they were going to have music classes, violin classes, but you had to sit an audition. I was terrified, I knew nothing about music, but I needed to learn the violin. I had this strong urge that knowing how to play music would help me. So I sat the exam. And I did brilliantly. I started violin lessons.

This piece, Bach Minuet in G Minor was the first proper piece I ever learned. I would play it over and over again, even now, although I haven't played in many years, I bet I could still get the tune out. Here is my list of the top 10 songs or pieces I turn to, and you can find the playlist here

1. Gopuru - Gurrumul

This song is just like a aural hug, the words are so soothing, Geoffrey's voice is just the most beautiful instrument I have ever heard.

2. Ben Harper - Whipping Boy

The first time I heard this song was in the 90s, covered by an Australian band for a tv mini series about a child abuse ring. It just really hit me in the heart, and when the voices are getting at me, it helps.

3. Johnny Cash/Marilyn Manson/Depeche Mode - Personal Jesus

It really depends on what the voice is saying and what mood I am in which version of this song I reach for. The Johnnyy Cash version is probably the most spiritual but when I really angry Marilyn Manson really works for me!

4. Tears for Fears - Shout

I have chosen the 2012 version for my playlist because its so powerful. I was 12 when I first heard this song. The lyrics really spoke to me. The abuse was just coming to an end, the bullying was at its worse, I felt powerless and a lot of the time scared and angry. "I hope we live to tell the tale" with "shout shout let it all out" on top of it just meant so much to me.

5. Electric Light Orchestra - Don't Bring Me Down

This is a really hard song to include on this list. ELO was played a lot in the abusers house and this song was played when things were happening. But for some reason, this song always helps. I think the driving nature of it just kept me going. But at certain times ELO can make the voice much worse.

6. Supertramp - Its Raining Again

This is another difficult inclusion, as this song was another from that era. I remember it most in the car, with mum and dad, and singing it always made me feel better. I do love songs where the lyrics and the music are a bit mismatched!

7. Sinead O'Connor - Troy

My sister introduced me to Sinead O'Connor, and I could have chosen many of her songs, but this one really does help, with its quiet beginning and reaching a stunning crescendo, then coming back down again.  One of the reasons I love it so is the orchestration. As a teenager I was in the Tasmanian Youth Orchestra and there is nothing so powerful as to be part of something like that, when you work as a team and create a wall of sound.

8. Hunters and Collectors - True Tears of Joy

This was my band, from the first time I heard the, Hunters and Collectors became the soundtrack of my life, I owned every album and ep, I went to see them 3 times in concert. This song is probably the most apt for me and silencing those voices, the lyrics are amazing. "your thoughts are scattered like paper everywhere tiny pieces of laughter and despair"

9 Bernard Fanning - Watch Over Me

I went home to Australia in 2006 and heard this song for the first time. The lyrics just spoke to my heart, and whilst this is  a prayer, its almost like a song to my nana. "Tell me you'll always be there to pull me free". There's also a special friend this song reminds me of to. "You brought me round, your humble way".

10. Black Sabbath - Anno Mundi

When I was at university my friend Amanda introduced me to the TYR album. Sometimes the best thing to silence the voices is a long, self indulgent metal track and this is the one I choose. Must be played loud and really give those voices a kicking.

What music silences your voices?

I Have a Voice in my Head

I hear voices. But I'm not crazy.
The voice is relentless. When I have a flare up.
Most of the time its silent, but boy when it has something to say it just won't shut up.
"pathetic, you can't do this, you think you can get better, you think you can heal, but you can't"
"you are worthless, this was your fault. You deserved what I did to you, you are dirty, you are damaged"
"you can't achieve anything, I put paid to that, you will never achieve your goals you will always be a loser"
"you are a pathetic friend, a useless wife, a rotten mother. How could you even think for a moment you could have a family and make it work?"
"just stop kidding yourself, get a care job, go back to being a nobody, finish this now"

I told my therapist today about the voices. He said something that stuck in my head.
"stop listening to it, it has nothing of value to say". Nothing. Of. Value. To. Say.
I have been listening to the voice, thinking that maybe I can find some truth, something to help me.
He also told me something else. Most abuse victims hear the voice.
I am not crazy. I am not alone. I am, um er, normal. Well as normal as can be.

He told me to choose. To treat the voice like a bully. There is a time to engage, to fight, there is also a time to ignore.
He also told me to find balance, to find positive voices. Like my Nana. Her soft gentle voice telling me she believes in me. That I can do anything. That I can save the world, one heart at a time.
I can make a difference.
Today is the day.
Today is the day I tell that voice it has no place now, I know what its trying to do.
And it won't win.

I will win.

I am winning.

Happiness

Happiness is looking at my daisies in the garden.
Singing "hakuna matata" with my little boy.
Crocheting a blanket for my best friend.
Meeting work colleagues for lunch and having a giggle.
Reading recipe books and planning meals.
Walking to the park and patting dogs.
Reading a magazine with the cat on my knee.
Hanging the washing out listening to the neighbour's little girl giggling.

Happiness exists.
Where there is fear, and sorrow, happiness still exists.
Sadness and happiness are not opposites, you can be enveloped in one and still feel the other.

In therapy we talk about "self care". To me "self care" is about finding happiness, about keeping balance. Therapy is tough. When we talk about things I have pushed aside for over 30 years, its painful. Old wounds reopened, friendships I have lost, family relationships fractured, its very hard to bring those things out and deal with them.

It can threaten to overwhelm.

To me "self care" is making time for the things that bring me into the present. That remind me life, although its been hard, is unbelievably beautiful and happiness is all around.

Sometimes you just have to look really hard, dig really deep and ask for some help to find it.

On Being a Survivor

Almost two weeks ago I read "Jimmy Savile is Dead" to an audience of 500 people. The last two weeks have been tough and I really need to share my thoughts.

Being a survivor of child abuse
Means the childhood I never really had is never really over
Every happy memory has a sad one attached to it
I close my eyes I see things that stopped a long time ago
But in my head have never really stopped
Smells trigger me, the smell of cut grass in the sunshine leads to lawnmowers and two-stroke fuel, and those greasy smelly hands of him.
Lavender in my garden reminds me of nana, my safe place, my safe person, but she has gone.
Freshly baked bread, the farmhouse kitchen where I felt safe, but always had to leave, to go back home.

I keep busy, but I can't focus
I feel angry but I am impotent.
I cry, but it doesn't help, as no one truly understands
I want to talk to other people who can relate
But their own pain and suffering makes my own worse and the whole thing even more unbearable.
I try and hide from the news but it is everywhere.
I try and take comfort in my own son and absorb myself in him, but the fear of this happening to him just won't leave me.
His age haunts me, the age where I lost my childhood. 
There is no comfort in anything, everything makes me sad, or angry or frightened.
I still have so much fear.
Yet everyone uses words like strong and brave, and I feel anything but.
The person close to me cannot bear to be with me, there is talk of separation, of having time out.
There is so much to bear
And my shoulders aren't as broad as they appear to be.

 And I just really want this to be over now.

Rock Bottom

I think I have reached it.

I have been having therapy for about a month and have had to take a three week break, it couldn't be avoided due to Britmums and my husband going away so no child care, and then my therapist going away, but the bottom of the rock has been reached.

It's hit me just how much I have gone through, the abuse, the bullying, the miscarriages, the marriage break up, this week should be my 20th wedding anniversary and I should have an 18 year old and a 15 year old with me. And this time 4 years ago Joseph still had 3 weeks left in hospital and I remain stuck in the Premmie Game.

I just don't even know where to start. Everything is upsetting me. I was at my best friend's house this weekend and heard a snippet of a song and burst into tears. Painful memories flooding back old ones and more recent ones.

I am so bone crushingly tired but am sleeping ok, I can't imagine sleeping any more than I am doing. I just feel a deep fatigue in my brain and heart.

I feel sad, angry, happy, scared, confident in equal measures. My poor brain feels like a computer working overtime.

My husband is away on a stag do for 5 days and I miss him, and feel angry too. It's a long time to be away on a jolly leaving me with Joseph and work.

I just want to find my happy place and be able to relax a bit and sort this brain of mine out.

A Gardens Yarn Bomb

At Christmas time my best friend Daniel needed a hat for his doll limited edition Big Bang Theory Sheldon figuirine. So I knitted him hat and a scarf. Thus started the germ of an idea.

Daniel has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy (DMD). I met him on Twitter because I am nosey and wanted to see how these guys were using social media and Daniel and I started becoming good friends, and then best friends. DMD isn't what defines Daniel, and to be honest, I completely forget he has it. However facts are facts. Duchenne is an incurable life limiting condition.

I have chosen The Muscular Dystrophy Campaign as they work with a number of conditions, fund research but also campaigning and support.

I hate Duchenne. I was 7 when I met my first friend with Duchenne. One of the guys I worked with in care had Duchenne, he died in his early 20s leaving his family and friends devastated. I know there are cures and treatments for Duchenne. I know there are. We need more research to find these cures and treatments, and sadly research largely has to be funded by charity.  But also, boys and girls with Duchenne need ongoing good quality medical care and opportunities to shine, this all costs money and it also means a lot of campaigning. I am passionate about finding a cure, but also about ensuring us as a society support people with all forms of muscular conditions to live happy and fulfilling lives.

So I have this mad idea to decorate an area of Manchester in knitting and crochet. I would love as many people as possible to get involved, and have already had some gorgeous submissions which I will showcase in the coming weeks.

It doesn't matter how proficient you are, an absolute beginner or a skilled craftsperson. I am actually a beginner myself. The beauty of this project is I can use anything. If its holey, too tight, too lose, a bit wonky, it doesn't matter.

I have a Pinterest board with ideas and patterns please have a look and feel free to request to be made a contributor.

Items will be sold on the day, which will be in mid August, and also if you could ask your friends to sponsor you that would be great. My sponsorship page can be found here

Please keep following for more updates, and maybe even a tutorial or two!

An Absolute Joke - Sentencing of Child Sex Offenders

I really wanted to swear on the title of this post. I blogged about the tragic death of Frances Andrade here. 

Frangipani for Frances Andrade

Clearly, with my personal journey at the moment, triggered by the stories of adults coming forward about the abuse they suffered as children, this story was always going to be close to my heart. I am on somewhat of a media blackout at the moment as I seek further treatment and support.

I was on a tube platform when I saw the news, over the shoulder on someone else's copy of a free newspaper, that Frances Andrade's abuser had been sentenced. I held my breath.

6 fucking years. 6 years. She's dead! Dead! Because the trauma of court was too much for her to bear and he gets six years. It gets worse though. The judge describes him as a predatory sex offender and in his opinion he is still a threat, yet he gets six years. And six years of what? A life in prison yes, but treatment? Therapy? Probably not. He'll come out in pretty the much the same way he went in. A predatory sex offender who is such a danger to young girls, that as adults they are so traumatised they kill themselves.

What a fucking joke this system is. He serves half of this sentence in prison and the rest on licence. 3 years in jail.

This guy's wife, as the judge describes, had a sexual agenda of her own and got 21 months. Her solicitor said this "Mrs Brewer's Christian faith has remained a mainstay in her life. The guilt she feels in playing any part in the demise of Frances Andrade is very acutely felt."

Which leaves victims like me thinking, what's the point. What is the point of putting yourself through that trauma of court for sentences like that. 

And that my friends is why I don't call myself a Christian. How can anyone sentenced for sexually abusing a young girl now dead claim to be a Christian? It's an insult. And she shouldn't feel guilty because she is a "Christian" she should feel guilty because she is human. Guilt is nothing to do with God, guilt is human. 

Honestly its just madness, and something HAS to change. It makes me rather pleased Jimmy Savile is dead, because maybe his sentencing would be piss poor to, who knows.

Coming forward as an adult to say you have been abused as a child is bloody hard. My heart goes out to all those with the intestinal fortitude to face court.

We need a better system. We need much better support for adults. Getting help is so hard. I've had to go private, yet again, for help with my poorly brain tormented by memories.

We need to get this right. Savile proves there are so many of us walking around with this hurt that needs healing.

And we cannot rely on the court system, and when perpertrators are utilising the same God we are, it makes it very hard to bear.