Writing

This page is devoted to writing by male survivors. The first entry is by the man in Victoria, Australia who suggested that we add this feature to the site. Thanks.

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ADen’s 10 Commitments
 
1. Survive today – every day
 
2. Make and keep a commitment to myself that I will ensure that I make at least one step on MY journey of healing every day
 
3. Do battle with self imposed isolation every time I feel it by contacting at least one fellow survivor who knows just how I’m feeling
 
4. Disclose – for me there is no closure without disclosure.  The more people I tell, the more bridges are built out of isolation (mine and others) we become a network – a safety-net-work
 
5. Refuse to allow the myths any power in my life – it was not my fault
 
6. Refute the lies – yesterday’s victims are not tomorrow’s perpetrators
 
7.  No excuses – no self pity – no “why me?” – look for the splashes of joy in the cesspool of life
 
8. There’s no crime in being a victim but staying a victim IS a crime
 
9. It’s OK to say:  “help”; “hello”; “no”; “I love you”;
 
10. After all is said and done, there’s a lot more said, than done.  On my death bed I want to sing with Frank Sinatra “I did it my way” with the emphasis on the “I did it” not the “my way”.

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Trickster Troll

Hi all my wonderful brothers,

Sometimes when we are walking through our daily life, for many of us a lot of the time, we feel as if we are dragging around a massive black boulder of guilt and doubt.
And do you know what it is?
It's the Trickster Troll! He is very cheeky and loves indulging himself in watching the struggles of others, especially bright light spirits who are full of the life that he covets so dearly.
So that big black boulder of negativity that you and I and so many of us carry around with us is not ours to carry. Years ago the Trickster Troll came up to you when you were sleeping and he gently slipped a rope into your hand , then gently closed your fingers around it. This rope he attached to the biggest darkest boulder that he could find and then then ran off to hide behind a tree, waiting to see you wake up and watch what you would do.
So then when you woke up and found this rope in our hands you naturally thought that it was yours, and so stood up and began to walk along your path, dragging behind you this large, heavy and dark boulder behind. All the while not noticing the Trickster Troll sniggering and giggling behind the tree at your struggles.
As time went on you kept dragging this boulder simply assuming that it was always yours to bear. Never questioning why you had it and when other people saw you carrying it they agreed that you had to struggle as the Trickster Troll had slipped a rope in their hands as well when they slept.
I discovered that I had tied the rope around my waist so that I would never let it go no matter how hard I ran or what I went through.
You didn't ask for this boulder, you don't deserve it and never was it your's to bear. Just a Trickster Troll who thought it was funny to see you struggle.
If you're like me then untie the rope and let the boulder roll away, or simply just let go of the rope and watch the big dark boulder be left behind you and laugh back at the Trickster Troll that is always still hiding behind the tree :)

Lots of love to you all,

Miles

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MESSENGERS

The house itself, if it had a voice
Would speak out clearly. As for me,
I speak to those who understand;
if they fail, memories are nothing.

Aeschylus, Agamemnon

We say what we know because we must.
You can cheer us or run us out of town.
It’s nothing at first, like rain on dust,

a hairline crack in the faultline’s crust,
a tentative first-person plural pronoun.
We say what we know because we must

recall, recount, redeem, and readjust
all that we’ve known, not for renown.
It’s nothing at first, like rain on dust,

or the first few tiny flecks of rust
on barrels buried underground.
We say what we know because we must

talk back to histories we do not trust,
relearn our own, and set them down.
It’s nothing at first, like rain on dust.

What does it mean to fear what’s just?
You can cheer us or run us out of town.
We say what we know because we must.
It’s nothing at first, like rain on dust.

Richard Hoffman

For more of Richard Hoffman's writing, see: www.abbington.com/hoffman or http://mnemosynesmemes.blogspot.com/

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