Tag: sexual abuse

Uncategorized

Life, the same, but very, very different too …

carolyncordon

I suspect this blog post is likely to have a bit of a Stoic angle to it, but that’s OK, in fact it’s a good thing. Looking at life from a Stoic angle, when things are looking pear-shaped is probably the best way to look at life, in troubling times. And these certainly are troubling times.

Writing about it here, on my writing blog makes sense though, because, well, this is where I have the most followers, and I’m hoping what I write will be worth reading for others. And a note to any newcomers to Stoic Thought – being a Stoic does not mean one must live a boring, life, with no emotional actions happening. It simply means one will accept the good, and the bad things too, and deal with them in the best way you can.

And that ‘best way you can’, doesn’t just mean best for you, it means best for you, your family and friends, your community and the entire world. So obviously, being a good Stoic is a big thing, if you’re doing it all well. I don’t imagine I will ever have a huge impact on the entire world, but if the call goes out for me, I’ll be there, doing my Stoic best!

Is writing a Stoic thing? Being a poet and writer, fiction and non fiction, books, a community newsletter, blogging. Some of it is at the more flippant end of things, some more serious. I have had lots of fun times with family and friends in my life, but I have had some terrible things happen too. Such is the way of our lives. Good and bad, and yes, if we wish to live our best possible life, we must find ways to handle all of it, and do it well.

One of my blogs talks about sexual abuse, and another of them talks of Multiple Sclerosis (MS). Both of these things have been in my life. The sexual abuse happened when I was a child and teen, the MS has been with me since I was diagnosed with it in 2010, and unless there is a cure found, it will be with me forever.

I have thought long about these things, and written about them in my creative writing, firstly with the poetry collection, https://damagedchildrenpreciousgems.wordpress.com/ and more recently, https://mickjaneandme.wordpress.com/ These two books have been great and therapeutic for me, allowing me to examine things in ways where I control what is happening, and looking from a variety of different points of view. I am a firm believer in these therapeutic possibilities from creative writing. I know that other people have found help in these books, and I am glad of that.

In fact, one of my best life things to do, I suspect, would be to assist others to travel from victim to survivor, and then further, to being one who is thriving in life. This is a possible thing, I am living proof of it. I have good family and friends who love and care about me, I have a safe and secure home, with enough money available to go on living here, easily and well.

I am not held back by my Chronic Illness, and for that, I can thank both my excellent medication, and the lifestyle choices I have adopted – reduce stress, increase healthy eating, get some exercise into my life, and go on thinking about my life in positive, rather than negative ways. There are bad things in life, yes, but I am going well, and helping others to do the same, when and if I can.

So this year, 2020, was going to be the year of Great things, with the whole 2020 Vision vibe of life, but then Covid-19 came along. Did I let that make me close down, and hide away from the virus? NO! I decided what I might be able to do, to help others think about how they were doing, and how things may be improved, perhaps.

Before the year was half over, I had put out a call for submissions in response to Covid-19, and very soon I had collected a goodly number of works from around the world. I was thrilled with what I had collected, and I was encouraged to forward this ‘anthology’ to a publisher that I know, to have the anthology professionally published, if possible. I’m currently waiting to hear back from the publisher, and whether they accept this book or not, I intend to launch the anthology at the Gawler and Adelaide Plains Festival of Words, in late July 2021.

This has been my first adventure in being the editor of a big collection, and I have enjoyed it very much. There’s no telling whether or not I will take this kind of thing any further, I have certainly considered the idea of setting up as a Publisher. We’ll see what happens with this anthology first …

This ‘seeing what happens’ attitude is my Stoicism shining through. Taking advantage of opportunities, knuckling down and working when I have to. Knowing what I can do, and doing that, but also stretching myself further, to try do more. These are definitely good ways for me, and for others, to look at their own lives. It’s the old “When life gives you lemons” thing. You don’t sit back and curse, because you wanted a sweeter fruit, instead you get on with doing great things with those lemons you’ve been given!

So, overall, life in many ways is the same for us all, but oh, dangerously different, for those living where the Covid-19 virus is at loose in their community. I feel for those people, and hope that soon, scientists and other medical people can find a vaccine, or other way to finally kill the virus, for us all. It only takes one person, to spread the virus to another, and so it could go again.

Working on Climate Change, tied with action of Covid-19 seems to be how the whole world needs to go, as soon as we possibly can, for all of us!

New Ideas, Story Ideas, Uncategorized, Writing

Themes in a Writing Life

carolyncordon

I have been ‘a writer’ for perhaps twenty years. Over my time as a writer, I have written about a variety of different things. I tend to write about what my mind is connecting with, at the time, and I think about many things.

An early theme was Sexual Abuse, which resulted in both a poetry collection, and a blog. Another theme has been Dogs, and that has so far resulted in three books with at least one more book in the same series to be published perhaps next year. Since I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2010, I have published a book about it, and again, have a blog regarding that theme.

My current theme, one I have also begun a new blog about, is living a Stoic life. I began thinking about stoicism around two years ago, and I based much of my early thought around a book I received for my birthday last year (or it may have been a Christmas present). It is the book “How to be a Stoic” by Massimo Pigliucci, a well written book and very informative.

I am enjoying looking at my life, and considering it in regards to Stoicism. I wrote a blog post on my Stoic blog this morning, which shows this, I would love you to go there and read it, it tells a bit about me and how I live my life!

Being a writer means you have to have things to write about, and living a life made up of many different things means the range of your writing can be a diverse one. And exploring different genre means you have more options and avenues for your words. I am a writer, as I have said, and I write different things.

I am currently working on an adult novel, I have an idea for a Young Adult novella, I am a poet, I am a blogger, and I’ve written short stories too. I also have a memoir, which was the book mentioned previously, about multiple sclerosis. I am also the editor of a newsletter for the people living in the town closest to where I live, Mallala. This newsletter comes out monthly, and I enjoy putting it together, with my own writing, and the articles sent to me for it.

My life is one of writing, and also of working with and for my various communities. It is a good, simple, and Stoic life, and I love it!

domestic abuse

Why People Like Molly Hate Winter

carolyncordon

This is Molly:

Screenshot 2019-05-17 at 5.52.43 PM

When Molly was young, she loved winter. She could go outside, running around in the rain, trying to catch rain drops in her mouth, and playing in all of the puddles everywhere. Then when she’d finish playing, she’d go back inside and have a lovely warm bath her mother would get ready for her.

But then, things changed. Molly would get in the bath to get warm, and wash off all the mud, like before, but her father would come into the bathroom and just look at her, not saying anything. His breathing would go funny, like he was running a race while standing there. Then he would start sweating then suddenly rush out of the room.

It took any joy out of having a bath for Molly, having her father there doing such strange things. As she got older, she began to understand what was happening, and Molly would only have a bath if she know her father was out, and wouldn’t be home until after she was out of the bath and dressed.

So that was one of the reasons why Molly lost her love for cold wet winters, having her own father staring at her naked body. But after Molly left home, when her father began lusting after her, as she realised later, she found more reasons to not love winter anymore.

Molly didn’t have a house to live in, once she’d left home. Sometimes there were houses she stayed in, when it felt safe to do that, but the best houses came with rules, and the worst houses came with men who would be like her father, lusting after her body, and doing things to her she didn’t like or want to have happen.

So if things were like that, with rules Molly couldn’t understand or like, she’s go, out on the road, and try to find places to sleep where she could make her own rules. But her own rules weren’t the proper ones, the legal ones, and Molly would often have to move on again and again. Molly didn’t like living with other people, she didn’t like talking about herself, she didn’t like the ‘interventions’ other people said she needed.

Molly got used to carrying her own things to keep herself warm no walls or heating needed. Molly lived on the streets, in holes, in empty places, staying as long as she could then moving on again when she had to, because other people arrived there to stay, or new building managers or owners came to do something with their building, fix it up, rent it out, and there was no room for Molly or others like her.

Winter with shelter in Australia, in particular in southern Australia, that is a nasty time, being rained on, unable to get dry, or to keep all of your things dry, sometimes, often really. When you’re homeless, making your own food is difficult without a kitchen of your own, and without the ability to store your food to keep it fresh. Sometimes Molly ate with others who lived on the streets, but she didn’t like it if people asked questions.

Molly had a story, but she didn’t feel the need to tell her story to anyone. She wanted to keep the shame of her story to herself. And freezing in winter, catching colds and worse, these things were part of her ongoing story. Walking around, carrying her bundle of blankets and other items she had, this was a way to get warmer, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. There wasn’t really anything much at all Molly enjoyed. There had been a cat, for a while, in a place Molly stayed at for a while, but the cat disappeared one day, and then Molly got scared by a newcomer, so she ‘disappeared’ too.

So Molly hates the cold and wet weather, Molly hates winter and so do many other homeless people. Winter is only good if you can get warm, and stay warm …

domestic abuse

Helping By Listening

carolyncordon

This is Molly.

Screenshot 2019-05-17 at 5.52.43 PM

Molly is not one person I actually know, Molly is many people I know of, and may know without realising that I know these things about her. Abuse, particularly of a sexual kind, is a hidden and shameful thing, even these days, when we are apparently all open about sex.

But things done to children often go unseen by those outside of the family, hushed up, denied ‘if necessary’, and to feel embarrassed and ashamed about if they happen to you. Sexual abuse, not only of children, but of women and men too, is a thing to be stamped on and stopped.

In an ideal world, this would happen, but this is far from an ideal world, and so women like Molly live all around the world, hiding from society, whilst remaining right there in the world with us, hoping no-one will notice them, and hurt them again.

These damaged souls deserve our sympathy, but they are unlikely to ask for it. Many of them don’t understand that other people truly do care, and want to help them. If a person gets knocked down often enough if and when they manage to stand up, then eventually they may simply stop trying to stand up to get what they should be given.

If you ever come across a person like Molly, someone on the edges, not seeming to want to join in, an angry person perhaps, bitter about what they have been kept from, or angry about the bad stuff they’ve been given, then why not see if they are willing to talk to you. Sometimes the opportunity to talk can open up the floodgates, and if you prove yourself to be a good and non-judgemental listener, there’s no telling how much you may learn, or how much you might help, simply by hearing this person’s story.

Listening actively is a skill, one well worth following up on, if you have any ideas of taking on  any kind of informal counselling roles, like the one I have been writing about here. Active listening involves pay these aspects: pay attention, show you’re listening, provide feedback, defer judgement and respond appropriately.

Listening without jumping in immediately with your own opinion is a great skill, a rare skill to have, because so many people only have a conversation to have their own story being heard. People like Molly though, they need to be properly listened to, if they feel safe enough to talk. If you talk over the top of them, they will close down, and you won’t have helped them.

People like Molly don’t deserve such treatment, if they try to reach out, they deserve a sympathetic listener who will let them say all they feel they need to say.

 

domestic abuse

When Molly Fought Back, the First Time

carolyncordon

A new idea for Molly’s story – she leaves home very soon after her father slapped her hard, and grabbed her, trying to drag her off to his bedroom, she fights like a wild cat, and races off through the back door, jumps over the neighbours fence, and then just goes, as far away as she can.

She had her wallet in her pocket, with her bank card, and she knew there were other things of her in her school locker, so knows that’s where she has to go, to get all of her things before her father can go to the school and get everything.

Molly is twelve. Her father had been nasty to her, telling her she’s dumb, and will never amount to anything, that he doesn’t know why he should have to spend his ‘hard earned money’ on her fancy stuff she wanted all of the time. He’s just begun looking at her when she goes into the bathroom before school, to make sure she washes her hair properly, and doesn’t waste all of the shampoo and conditioner.

She doesn’t like him being in there, and thanks to the sex ed classes they’ve begun at school, she is starting to realise something is wrong in the things he does with her, and has been doing since she can remember. She’s beginning to feel that he’s been doing bad things to her, touching her in places she now knows he has no right to touch her.

Molly has enough documents that she can keep on going, out on the streets. She contacts her maternal grandmother at an early stage of her new life out on the street, who helps her as much as she can. She’s frightened of Molly’s dad too though, so she isn’t able to do a lot, in case he finds out, and beats her.