Not All Poems Need To Be Shared With All

Yesterday was a big poem writing day for me, and I don’t know when, or if, the poems I wrote will be widely shared. So poems may have only one reader who will understand the poem written. But that one person may be the perfect person to read a poem, and find solace, or understanding, or relief from the poem and that is what many of us wish to give …

Author’s photograph

I’ve written some poems, and published them in a collection, that had a limited audience, but those who understood, and felt the truth of my poems, were exactly the kinds of people I was writing for. And those people may well be the ones who will understand the poems I wrote yesterday.

So for that to happen, I’ll need to share the words, carefully, and hope my intent is understood, as one to assist in healing, not trying to rip sheds of skin from already damaged people.

Touching on damages done, can hurt people, but ignoring the truth of that damage can destroy them. I hope my writing is always felt to be understanding, and healing. ‘damaged children, Precious Gems’, a blog, and a poetry collection, have been the way I’ve gone with my poetry in the past, and I have a feeling that blog, and at readings from that poetry collection, may be where I eventually share these recent poems I have written.

Or perhaps it may be that I am the person to gain healing from the writing of these poems, and they are never shared more widely at all. And that is fine. Therapeutic writing is definitely a thing that works, it has done so for me in the past, and does for other people all around the world – it has in the past, does in the present, and will into the future.

Words work, in many ways.

My Regular Big Event!

Today, February 28 is the last day of February, the last day of Summer, and the day of my favourite event of the month. Today is the day my favourite Big Event happens. This Big Event isn’t necessarily big in terms of people attending, but it is huge in terms of the wonderful things that can happen.

The event is the Gawler Poets at the Pub event, incorporating both a writing-related workshop, and after that a Poetry Reading. The event takes place at the Prince Albert Hotel (known as the P/A to regulars, and it has lunch happening too. I am one of the two coordinators of this event, and it is a small part of what the writing group I’m the President of, does.

So Alex Robinson, my co-coordinator, is also the Treasurer of our group, which is the Adelaide Plains Poets. He collects the money, and also brings along books we have as a prize for one of the little mini competitions we hold during the afternoon’s happenings. These new books are donated by a wonderfully eclectic bookshop close to the P/A hotel. It is the Gawler Bookshop, and I love popping in there every now and then to say hi, and thank you to the lovely Ally who owns the store, and can find or get in for you any book you might ever want, I suspect!

So this morning, right now, I’m getting ready to head off to Gawler to the P/A for the workshop our guest for the day will present. The guest is Valerie Volk, and the subject for her workshop is ‘Poetry from Pain’. This is a subject dear to my heart, and to my savings too, because I’ve written and sold my own books touching on this subject. One is my memoir about having Multiple Sclerosis ‘Mick Jane and Me – Living Well With MS’, and the other is a poetry collection about my own story about being sexually abused as a child, teen, and young adult ‘damaged children, Precious Gems’.

So painful things for sure, both of them, but the writing of those books has been therapeutic, and I’m in a much better space in my life now, having written the pain out of my head and onto the pages of my books.

What If ‘What You Know’ Is Rape?

Write what you know, they say, whoever ‘they’ are … But what if what you know isn’t fluffy kittens, or interesting garden tips and tricks, or wise dogs with funny thoughts. What if what you know, is how it was to be sexually abused by a family friend, gang raped by some young men I’d idolised, and sexually abused by work colleagues?

How would I write about that, when the reality of it was something I rarely allowed myself to think about these days, happily married to a good man, mother of a fine son, and safe from the predatory behaviour of workmates, because I’m now a writer, and not working in a office, with Happy Hour an excuse to all get pissed, and ‘see what happens …’

Well actually, I have written about the sexual abuse, a poetry collection I put together and got published in 2011, one year after my diagnosis with Multiple Sclerosis, which I am now learning, may in fact have links to sexual abuse – who’d have thought it? Well the body knows about these things, and some researchers have looked at these things, and noted the statistics about sexual abuse, and about Multiple Sclerosis are similiar … coincidence? I wonder.

Maybe there is another book in that thought, but at the moment, I’m working at feeling settled, and safe. This past week with all of it on the media, and getting hooked up and unable to escape, and feeling and remembering things I’d thought gone. A dear friend pointed out that what I’d written on Social Media sounded exactly like Complex PTSD, with memories hitting me, things I’d barely remembered, humiliating, frightening things I don’t want to remember, but my body and brain remember, whether I like it or not.

At the moment, I don’t feel that is the next book I want to write. I have a novel to finish, and a poetry collection to put together, on much happier subjects … What I am interested in doing with these sex abuse issues though, is to run workshops or at least one workshop, looking at finding peace through poetry. Being able to write things down, and making it into poetry, can be a healing thing, the idea of therapeutic creative writing is far from a new thing.

I know this, I have a book to prove I know it. I also have a blog, where I have looked at these issues, http://www.damagedchildrenpreciousgems.wordpress.com the blog having the same name as my poetry collection on the subject. So if anyone out there in South Australia is interested in such a workshop, let me know, I’ll happily present it!

Poetry and Getting Over ‘Issues’

This is serious stuff, and the current Mini ‘Me Too’ times currently happening in Australia shows how widespread this ‘issue’ my poetry helped me to get over is. But getting over things, isn’t really a thing, is it, not necessarily. I know the poetry collection I’ll say more about soon, may have felt like it helped my top ‘get over’ something I’ll refer to soon as well, didn’t actually help me to ‘get over’ just to hold at bay.

So to bring clarity to this all, the poetry collection is titled “damaged children Precious Gems”, which is a collection on the theme of child abuse, particularly sexual abuse. I put together this collection at a time when I was facing other bad, but very different things in my life, a medical related thing. But anyway, the writing of poems, and putting together of the collection helped me feel far more in control of my life, regarding the abuse I had suffered at the hands of various men.

At that time, I launched the poetry collection, I was married, being a ‘stay at home mum’ and working through my sexual abuse issues with a community worker who’s held a workshop for women with problems of abuse. That was around twenty years ago, and I was feeling in control, as I said. The book is a good one, and I’ve had plenty of praise for it. I was happy with how I was going.

But then, this week, I hear of, see, read, about the rape two years ago, of a young woman at her workplace, an awful thing, not unusual really, sadly, terribly, but that workplace was parliament house in Canberra, and her abuse was ‘allegedly’ working for the government, as she was, and the whole thing seems to have been covered up by a member of parliament, and others in the Liberal party too.

This, I hope this young woman, and another one who seems to have suffered in the same way, will get the proper treatment, and this abuser is charged with the two rapes, so the wheels of justice can do what they should do at such times. I can’t do much about this process, apart from offer support on Social Media, and watch to ensure it doesn’t get swept under the carpet again …

This has finally shown me what the concept of triggering is about, I’m feeling edgy, and things I’d thought were finished, have been hitting me this week, over and over, memories I hadn’t thought about, and had in fact forgotten, have been right there in my head, telling me that even though I’ve been full of inward praise for myself for going from victim, to survivor, and on to thriver, I’m still that victim, at least to some extent. Yes I am thriving in my life, I have eight published books, I’m involved in the poetry ‘scene’ in South Australia, I have family and friends who love me, and a good marriage with a fine man (35 years, with a fine son doing well in his life).

But the memories, oh if only I could wipe them out forever … But if I could do that, would I still be the me who was able to write such a fine book of poetry on the theme of sexual abuse? Who knows. We are all made up of the things that happen to us, and the ways we manage, or don’t manage them. I am who I am, because I have survived what has happened to me, and that medical thing I mentioned (the diagnosis with Multiple Sclerosis in 2010), well there’s a possibility that may have something to do with trauma from my sexual abuse, who can tell?

But I’m actually doing well with the Multiple Sclerosis (MS), going through a long period of remission, and no real relapsing, only pseudo ones from too much heat, readily resolved by getting cooler. I’m very aware of the dangers to people with MS of getting too much stress, and I work hard to manage my life so stress isn’t there, as much as I can. It’s working well for me, but this current situation has me spending far too much time of Social Media, following the story, to see that it is properly dealt with. In reality, what can I do, but be witness, and offer support …

Maybe it’s time to resort to writing some more poetry about all of it, put my thoughts into words, and share it with others, or perhaps writing about it in prose, rather than poetry, who knows, but I know I am connecting and supporting other victims, and together, may we collectively make changes to ensure this doesn’t get cleaned up, and ignored, but gets the weight of the law applied to it, and if anyone is found guilty, they get exactly what they deserve, a jail sentence.

Us victims have had our penalty paying the price in so many trauma related ways, and we were the victim, not the perpetrator!

Who Am I, Really?

Wife, mother, poet, blogger, writer, dog lover, watcher of nature, editor, motivated community member, writing group President, and other things. These are the things I am, now. Fine things, things to be proud of, for sure..

But in my head are the things I’ve been. The past, the things that happen to us, they don’t just happen and then disappear. They remain, sometimes buried away below life’s flotsam and jetsam, but then that trigger hits you, and it comes back, and it’s like it’s right there again, even if only for a moment. But that moment can last for all of your lifetime.

So I’ve been a victim of child sexual abuse, and victim of sexual abuse as a young adult. I’ve been a worker in the Commonwealth Public Service, and before that a stablehand and strapper for my harness racing father. I’ve been a part time worker in a few varied jobs, I’ve been employed, interested, bored, confused, stressed out, and sacked.

Now, I’m proud of who I’ve been, even that job where I got sacked. I said the wrong thing, apparently, but gee, giving me free wine, what did they expect, if they can’t handle the truth, sheesh! That job gave me half a year of sleepless nights anyway, so I’m glad they sacked me. It as a shame the man who actually sacked me was a friend of my brother’s from many years previously.

What a way to completely crush a one time girlish crush that was! Moving out of our teenage years and into adulthood is a good thing, but when money takes over, softer feelings disappear, and the almighty dollar hardens emotion into a scabby little sore that will heal over, and disappear …

But today, I am something else, today I am an Inspirational Creative Writing Guru. That’s who I am today. Lots of days actually. Today I was told by a writing friend that something I posted on Facebook inspired her to do lots of writing, and she is thrilled with the words she has produced. I’m thrilled back at her about that.

Today I’ve also give a ‘critique’ on a poem a friend posted to Facebook, a fantastic poem that wrenched me in the guts, brought back unwanted memories, reminded me of things I’d love to get rid of, but know will be there, somewhere, until I die. Good writing can do that, and today I let that poet know how good her poetry is, how fantastic that poem was. I know she will go on writing gut wrenching poetry, it is inside of her, and her story is an important one.

Hidden away stories, the ones that can come out in this kind of poetry, if I can be involved in that kind of writing, the kind that can sometimes help to ease some of the pain of our terrible memories, being involved in these things is a terrible, beautiful, ugly and true thing. and again, if you can’t handle the truth, sheesh!

Many people have these kinds of things in their lives, and if they have someone in their lives who writes the tough stuff too, they can inspire that person to work through things, bring out their truth, share the pain, and sometimes some healing may come. I hope I can help people like this. I have had my own work, difficult things, published and I am glad to have done that, because I know how good it feels to share words with others who truly understand.