Lisa Dietz

Each figure in this piece represents almost a decade of recovery work. My first stage was full of depression, guilt, shame and hopelessness. I was wrapped tightly within myself. Note that to the left of the first image is the word "believe." It was only a vague hope that kept me alive. The center figure represents vulnerability, a sensation that I was raw emotion with hands and heart open, yet still bound by fear and intensity. The third figure begins to reach upward in hopes of release, a life more worth living. Beside this figure is the word "imagine" because it is my first glimpse of the possibility of peace of mind. Throughout, the sparkles represent that part of me that is innocent and untouchable—my essence or perhaps the presence of holy spirit.

In my experience with other survivors of domestic abuse, whether it be long-term spousal abuse or the betrayal of incest and sexual abuse by those we are supposed to trust, these stages of recovery are most effective if available soon after emancipation from the events. I consider myself to be blessed because, despite my anger or resistance at any stage along the way, I was motivated to get better, I was able to connect with services (most of which were helpful) and I had a few key people in my life supporting and advocating for me. I began to gain perspective. I am currently some years into the third stage and I believe or at least I'm hoping that eventually I'll find a 4th stage of transcendence to release me from the bonds of memory and flashbacks. I know I'll never forget, but I hope my spiritual practice will grow so that eventually my memories will trigger compassion and validation rather than flashbacks (or reliving the event).

It has not been easy.

I experience a sense of a common bond with other survivors of trauma. I know that it is difficult for friends and family members to know how to talk to someone recovering from abuse. Too often the message is, "Don't talk about it and you'll forget it." No one forgets it. As victims of long-term abuse, we have been deliberately brainwashed. We remained in our horrifying circumstances because we were convinced that we were worthless, powerless and undeserving of rescue.

For every moment that I am distracted from my memories; for every kind, simple word of encouragement like when someone says, "I understand," or "I know you did your best;" for every time I share my story despite the fear and someone says, "if you survived, I can survive as well," I am eternally grateful. I now know that each day and each moment when I realize I am safe and surrounded by spiritual goodness and personal possibility, I am the lucky one.