Life, liberty, & pursuit of dreams.
I believe in “hopee changee stuff” in My Life: It Works… on J DeGolier Noetling will air 04/13. http://tobtr.com/s/958150 #BlogTalkRadio
Tweet This Post 
Plurk This Post 
Buzz This Post 
Delicious 
Digg This Post 
Ping This Post 
Reddit 
Stumble This Post
J. Degolier’s Nature: http://www.cafepress.com/nature_parade via @addthis new look check it out
Tweet This Post Plurk This Post Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Ping This Post Reddit Stumble This Post
My Mamas Mustache Other Inherited Stuff on Blog Talk Radio: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/janeen-d via @addthis live in 5 minutes.
Tweet This Post Plurk This Post Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Ping This Post Reddit Stumble This Post
By September 1988 I was eternally lost, surrendering to the oblivion I felt I deserved.
By several miracles I joined AA on September 13, 1988 amid cheering and applause, hugs and grins.
I belonged someplace at last.
I returned repeatedly.
The reason I bring this up here and now is that most of my recovery stemmed from people like me telling my story and stories similar to mine. Recovery came from relating to other people who described my pain, fear, confusion, frustration, depression, and loss.
I learned faith in the power of ordinary people joining hands in a circle of healing.
I got the message that I could not keep it unless i give it away, the healing I mean.
I am living proof that people healing people works. I can promise, barring some other fantastical miracle, I would be long dead without the people who held my hand and told their story openly.
It is not a far stretch to believe I can also hold out my hand to others. I am not a program, there is no building with chairs, no set schedule of events, and no professional with a degree that says I went to college for this.
I went to college. I have 128 college credits but no degree. I majored in English, Computers, and Interior Design/Architecture at Daytona Beach Community College over the space of 11 years. I was often on the Presidents List with a 4.0 average. I also often floundered and failed and had to pick myself up and start again.
My point is, I have and am nothing more than another person telling my story, sharing my experience, hope, and strength in the hope that something, some day, some time, helps someone.
I took this attitude, and my experience strength and hope to DeGolier Land oblivious to the fact that the incest family system was impenetrable by any ray of light or life.
I have been ridiculed for holding out to them the same healing method that kept me above ground. I didn’t tell them they had to accept. I told them I was acceptable.
They weren’t listening.
I told them I meant no harm.
They would not hear me.
But just because they couldn’t hear me, in AA they say the program is not for those who need it, but for those who want it, does not mean I can stop sharing. Nor will I stop.
In my generation there was not only no help for abused children, but people knew and turned their heads, my own mother turned her face from me, and silence was the rule.
That state of affairs still lives and breathes in incest family systems like the one i was born into and thankfully have escaped. Getting out has nearly taken my mind and my life.
I am not alone. I save all the emails sent to me and there have been many, to bolster my courage, remind me why I am speaking out, and to cheer me on.
To borrow from the Obama, “If not now, when?”
When will it be more ok for victims to live than the predators who abused them? If not now, perhaps after another generation or two of our children have paid with their lives?
I know well, I lived the effects of sexual assault as a child, and the aftermath brought me at last, thankfully, to AA and now here.
I gave the family a choice, not an ultimatum, and they chose to stick to the old ways of re-abuse and denial.
My choice must be for the future, for my children and grandchildren and generations beyond. My choice will never lean toward protecting predators from their own consequences.
This is not revenge, it is me saying “I won’t foot the bill this time for the crimes done against me.”
Tweet This Post Plurk This Post Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Ping This Post Reddit Stumble This Post
I know the effects of sex abuse personally. I speak from the heart my experience. we survivors can speak up loud and often to save children.
Tweet This Post Plurk This Post Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Ping This Post Reddit Stumble This Post
Shine a spotlight on sex offenders. Twitter it and write about it and spread the topic like wildfire on a dry prairie. Save our children.
Tweet This Post Plurk This Post Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Ping This Post Reddit Stumble This Post
Parents of dead SoCal teen urge new predator laws – Yahoo! News: http://bit.ly/cUPoYB via @addthis
Tweet This Post Plurk This Post Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Ping This Post Reddit Stumble This Post
Neither is hope an illness needing medication, therapy, disability.
When hope dies what is left? Ashes like an old wood stove to be cleaned before use.
My hope is not dead for most things. It is dead for the family who has repeatedly tried to burn me at the stake over the past three years.
I created this video with hope of some miracle. I remember telling Ann Varney at 20/20 she might be the miracle the family needed. But there was no miracle save the miracle that I am still here to tell about the aftermath of daring to hope for change within the family.
I understand the family system theory/fact and I do see with hindsight all the red flags waving, warning me “Danger” “Enter At Your Own Risk.”
There may be no more treacherous a weapon of mass destruction than the incest family system protecting its honor, its name, its secrets, and its predators.
Victim be hanged, there is no place for disloyalty, open mind, hope for change, individual thinking, choice, personal feelings, or courage.
Like a heat seeking missile the family machine was slowly zeroing in on me from before I re-entered NY State in June of 2006. Red flags everyplace and I did not heed them.
After all, I was healed and brave and strong and filled with only good intentions.
Laugh here.
The first red flag lay in my fear of returning to DeGolier Land.
#2 was fear generated from family of me returning and “rocking their boat” with my delusional tales of being molested as a child.
Third was a brother who sat at the campground all morning the morning I was to arrive. He and I had no relationship ever as I had been warned early on about him, there was no friendly reason for him to be there.
Fortunately, I was a few hours late. Still, it unnerved me and I set up my fifth wheel and went inside to peer out the window awaiting his return. He did not return.
The third red flag waving was the wave of people denying my most innocuous of memories.
“Where did you dream that up?” and “No I don’t remember.” Or just blank looks and the shaking of the head.
My family did not know the knew me, and the old one did not exist except in their narrow minded perception of who I was.
So from the summer of 2006 began my age old struggle of figuring out how to make me visible to a family whose priority was, unknown to me, to keep me invisible.
My memoir “Entombed in Silence was a direct answer to that, show them me and they will accept me. It was not effective, though many people including myself and my children benefited greatly from it.
I suppose by the third red flag I was in over my head, too caught up in the drama to let go and run for my life. After that the red flags flew freely in the breeze and I just kept insisting they ought to get to know me before judgement.
And the beat goes on.
I know I was beating myself up for three years trying to be “one of the DeGoliers” again. Hindsight tells me clearly that it was neither possible or desirable to return to the folds in an incest family system. I could not get in any more than they could get out.
Hope is not a crime, though I was found guilty and punished severely for it, but it is wasted on the wrong people sometimes. Now my hope is for the millions of victims to come to terms with this fact.
When my sister wrote me that “if my heart really wants their love…just relax and be one of them” I knew the end was near. My heart shattered. With that statement I knew I was a permanent outsider and perhaps that is the reason I jumped back in the fray one last time. But i knew it was over.
But it was not over for them and here I sit picking up the pieces once again of a shattered life. At least this time all the pieces are clearly marked.
Most incest victims will have to deal with an incest family system on one level or another. Mine is a rather bizarre case perhaps, but I am by no means unique in my experiences.
If I had it to do over again, with the knowledge I have now, I would not look too long at the mistakes I made in defending myself or battling my way into my family circle. I would walk away from all but the handful of wonderful family members I gained from this.
That said, I doubt if I would have the family I have without going through the last 3 years as it played out.
There are no easy answers. I would rather have my freedom, my right to my memories, thoughts, ad emotions than to be accepted on false pretenses by a family like the one I come from.
I approve this message LOL
Janeen Brenda DeGolier Hunt Noetling
Tweet This Post Plurk This Post Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Ping This Post Reddit Stumble This Post
Twitter links powered by Tweet This v1.6.1, a WordPress plugin for Twitter.
As The Fog Lifts & The World Twirls
I am perhaps the least surprised by the things hung in limbo during the months long trauma of abuse by the incest family as I am at last coming out of that fog. At times I was not sure…
But the evidence lies in my computer (you would be surprised at the evidence in my computer of many things, mostly my innocence) performance. It was like depression settling into me, I didn’t see it clearly until I cleared the drive and re-installed everything. Now I can bear to sit at it and work.
Yes work. I have often gotten the eye roll for my “work” and critical (rude) comments about it from that other family who disowned me, again.
But I do work and have worked diligently for two and a half years with little reward. Most people might not be that determined, and they are the ones who say I don’t work.
But I am talking about the fog in my computer. suffice it to say it was nearly impenetrable, like the fog in my brain.
Moving on.
The family (incest family system) engaged in fear mongering to accomplish their goal, to relieve me of mind, life, and sanity. They used people wisely to do the actual dirty work wreaking havoc in innocent peoples lives.
You would think fear mongers would be courageous souls, after all they deal out fear like cards in a casino. If they have so much to give away, they must have learned to deal with it themselves. No.
Fear mongers are terrified little cowards riling the masses to accomplish what they will never be able to. There is a trick to it.
It begins with an agenda which has little if anything to do with truth, in this case it was the protection of predators and the disabling of a victim (me). The idea is to throw one lit match after another in the form of lies, misconception, hear-say, innuendo, supposition, opinion, assumption, all rated in the highly negative to the bizarre, and where the best flame burns fan it like crazy.
In time you have at your disposal and army of frightened people who do not need facts. They act on their fear as in this case, and I am tarred and feathered. Can family really do that? Yes. It is written in the very brain cells I think of every incest family member.
Can people leave the system? Only with determination and courage, and acceptance that they will not be taken back except on the system’s terms. You must lose your individual thought, like the Borg on Star Trek, all answer to the one mind.
But guess what> I at last had enough recovery and with that a sense of myself, that I am returning to my pre- burn stage like a pickle returning to cucumberdom. I will not be a pickle again. No, not even a sweet pickle.
It boggles my mind still that predators, known predators mind you, are more respected in the family than I who has struggled through the victim and survival stage and become more who I might have been without being molested by three brothers, a nephew and my father and made a life for myself. Not to mention, I came back to DeGolier Land Brocton, New York with compassion, forgiveness, and the idea and research to write a very different sort of book, more historical, on the family than the memoir I ended up writing in defense of myself that the family denied.
There is no defense for disloyalty to the family system. At least that is their rule.
But I am not a member of that system any longer, and I will speak as freely as I wish about my life, in defense or just to vent or to lay out my story for myself, my children, my grandchildren, and all who may be the same as me.
My oldest sister calls my memoir a failure due to my mean spirit. I only told 1/100 of what I could have, I made every effort not to do more harm. In other words, i cheated. I did not speak at much from the heart as I knew i must to engage readers, but you see, I was not focused on the general public, but the family who would not accept me.
Entombed in Silence was a success by the way, in terms of people in my life who know me better and I who can be here without running so they get a chance to know me better.
I do not believe that my nightmare life happened so that I could speak to others about it. I do believe there is more value in speaking about it, as long as it is a reality I cannot escape, than by either denial of my life, or self centered whining.
I have engaged in both over the course of my life, and occasionally I still do but on a more limited basis.
I enjoy life too much to stay down.
Posted in: Just Life.
Tagged: abuse · courageous souls · cowards · dirty work · eye roll · family incest · fear mongering · fear mongers · flame burns · fog · incest family · innocence · innocent peoples · innuendo · Janeen Degolier noetling at Edventure Museum in Columbia SC Grannie J · limbo · misconception · predators · rude comments · sanity · two and a half years · wreaking havoc