My journey My story

Posts that are about experiences I was having at the time I wrote them, about my life, interactions with family and quest to get proper medical care for my injuries.

Warrior Schedules PAP Test

Okay, so I think I found a safe (to me) place to get a gyne exam. I found out through some friends that the community health centres have nurses that do pap tests, who are allowed to schedule longer appointments than doctors (who under our health system are allowed 15 minutes, if you can believe […]

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Warrior 2 – It takes much bravery to stand up to our enemies but we need as much bravery to stand up to our friends

“Warriorship…does not refer to making war on others. Agression is the source of our problems, not the solution. Here the word “warrior” is taken from the Tibetan Pawo, which literally means “one who is brave.” Warriorship—is the tradition of human bravery, or the tradition of fearlessness.” – Chogyam Trungpa In those terms, most of the

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Hunting down the fragments

After my success last week with the intrusive imagery, I decided this week to hunt down other pain in the ass residues of being a survivor that are persistent. I have a fear of walking up stairs from basements. I manage to do it on a regular basis, in fact my bedroom is in the

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Back in the saddle

I’ve been getting weekly massages and had one today. It’s amazing how nice and unusual being more relaxed than usual is. Last night I made some good progress on writing a song to go with Oniongirl’s words (with her permission) and I’m really happy with it. I’ve got to get the guitar part a bit

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Pap test, anyone?

Okay, so I went bravely forth today on my quest to find a doctor to do a pap test. Like many survivors, I haven’t had a gyne exam in several years, in my case, about 8.  I haven’t had (or thankfully, needed) any other medical care during that time. I have recurrent yeast infections (or

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Hiding

Yesterday in therapy we talked about me hiding. There is a sneaky part of me that is afraid of being seen, that shuts me down, but doesn’t tell me that it’s doing it, whenever it gets triggered. It reminds me of when I was learning not to dissociate. At first I wouldn’t realize I’d dissociated for

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My Mother

November 22nd. I have come to understand that my mother knew and chose to do nothing. When I was 18 or thereabouts, I wrote my mother a letter telling her what my father had done to me. That he’d raped me and sexually abused me, beginning when I was quite young and continuing for years.

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