shock

Blame is a Defense Against PowerlessnessBetrayal trauma changes you. You have endured a life-altering shock, and are likely living with PTSD symptoms_ hypervigilance, flashbacks and bewilderment__ith broken trust, with the inability to cope with many situations, and with the complete shut down of parts of your mind, including your ability to focus and regulate your emotions.Nevertheless, if you are unable to recognize the higher purpose in your pain, to forgive and forget and move on, you clearly have chosen to be addicted to your pain and must enjoy playing the victim.And the worst is, we are only too ready to agree with this assessment! Trauma victims commonly blame themselves. Blaming oneself for the shame of being a victim is recognized by trauma specialists as a defense against the extreme powerlessness we feel in the wake of a traumatic event. Self-blame continues the illusion of control shock destroys, but prevents us from the necessary working through of the traumatic feelings and memories to heal and recover.

It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit.

It was not a monster that lay sleeping on the white sheets. Nor a faceless horror. Nor even the white bear. It was a man.His hair was golden, glowing bright as a bonfire in the light of the candle. And his features were fair, I suppose, but he was a stranger and that somehow was the greatest shock of all- that I had been lying all these months beside a complete stranger.

I begin to feel this tension when things that doesn't worth attention are the things that attracts attention

I am made to think, not for the first time, that in my writing I have plunged ahead-head-on, heedlessly one might say-or 'fearlessly'- into my own future: this time of utter raw anguished loss. Though I may have had, since adolescence, a kind of intellectual/literary precocity, I had not experienced much;nor would I experience much until I was well into middle age-the illnesses and deaths of my parents, this unexpected death of my husband. We play at paste till qualified for pearl says Emily Dickinson. Playing at paste is much of our early lives. And then, with the violence of a door slammed shut by wind rushing through a house, life catches up with us.

I__e seen daggers pierce the chest,Children dying in the road,Crawling things hooked and baited,Rapists bound and then castrated,Villains singed in public square.Yet none these sights did make me cringeLike when my Love cut all her hair.

Tell me, Eric,_ he said, licking a droplet from the corner of his mouth. __ave you ever tasted blood?_________y mouth was so dry I could barely find the voice to answer him. __hat an odd question...__________ut a valid one. Well, have you?____________e cut my lip before, so yes, I suppose I have tasted blood, but...__________ot your own, you foolish boy._ He let out a short, derisive laugh and leaned in so that he was only a few inches from my face. __ mean the blood of another.__________ood God, Stefan, of course not!__________ity...