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I always dreamed of writing a book. Over the past 40 years, I
unintentionally wrote 58 books in the form of diaries, notebooks and
journals—all on the subject of me. These were not daily rundowns
of events but rather dumping grounds of frustration where here or
there, an insight would shine through, bringing transformation. In
this way, I evolved from being a depressed, hopeless victim to a
person fully alive, capable of ecstatic happiness.
When I sat down on my fiftieth birthday and read through my
dramas I found tragedies and comedies intertwined to weave the
story of my life. From there I was led to a writing class and then to
the teacher who became my coach. She lovingly coaxed stories out
of me that I didn’t want to tell—even to myself.
And then I couldn’t stop. My dream of writing a book became
a desire so deep it kept me going for several years as I struggled with
writing the tough parts—coughing up hairballs, I called it.
I again felt the powerlessness of living with an alcoholic father
and the strictness of Catholic School. I replaced that victimhood
by fighting back and trying to control every aspect of my life. I
unconsciously married the very kind of man I was running
from—twice. From Al-Anon and Adult Children of Alcoholics
meetings I realized the overwhelming task of controlling was not
only futile but exhausting. I began letting go and asking God to
take over.
Slowly I learned what was mine to control and what wasn’t.
Then I began really living.
Through writing this book, counseling, group therapy, Feng
Shui, Reiki, N.E.T. and other energy work along with Al-Anon,
I was able to conquer my fear of telling the family secrets or being
burned at the stake for believing in a spirituality different than I was
taught in Catholic School. I learned to love myself enough to stop
the abuse from me and others. I now live in a magical place of grace
where I feel divinely guided every day.
These stories are my perception of my life. Some of the names
have been changed to protect the guilty. I’ve capitalized some Moms
and Dads out of reverence for them.
As Freud said, we are only as mentally healthy as the secrets we keep. I must be sane now because I have no secrets left…here they are.
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