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Svasti: A Journey From Assault To Wholeness

~ Recovery from PTSD & depression + yoga, silliness & poetry…

Svasti: A Journey From Assault To Wholeness

Tag Archives: Trauma

A forked road

20 Thursday Dec 2012

Posted by Svasti in Learnings

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

choosing healing, demarcation point, fork in the road, Grief, Healing, PTSD, Sorrow, Trauma, Wisdom

A fork in the road

One of the truest things I know is this:

Wisdom comes at a price

It isn’t cheap or easy, and the whole getting of wisdom process itself? It sucks. Until it stops sucking, and by then the wisdom is deeply ingrained.

So much so that it doesn’t really feel like one has learned anything at all.

This was true for me. Until of course, I found myself observing the experiences of others.

It doesn’t matter how similar/dissimilar their experiences are to mine. It’s all around us, all the time: the world is in deep, deep pain. Sometimes, that pain gets tipped over into terror and agony. This is what I’m talking about.

Lately I’ve seen friends and acquaintances alike going through some heart-rendingly painful experiences. Seems to be a lot of this going around at the moment (blame the supposed end of the world perhaps – which is really just a massive energetic shift of consciousness).

These days, I find that suddenly I know what to say or do. How to help. Well, sort of.

I still have that horrible sense of helplessness, even though I know how it feels from the inside out. There’s only so much someone can do.

I really hate that.

I wish I could rip open my own soul so I can put my battle scars on display. So you really can know that I really, really do get it.

Regardless of my ability to express this, I do understand. Intimately so. And I see and feel the sorrow, trauma or grief of others and I silently weep in sadness because I not only know roughly where they’re at; I also know what’s coming.

Holy Shiva, how well I remember those first steps on the path of incomprehensible loss…

I remember trying to make sense of it all and that NOTHING made sense, no matter what.

I remember how long it took before I realised that actually, nothing WAS making sense!

It took even longer than that to realise there was truly a way out. That feeling good again was even feasible or desirable or something that could happen to me.

As awful as it is while you’re still in the bleeding-and-wounded phase of those experiences, at some stage there’s a fork in the road.

A very clearly marked demarcation point

1. Continue down the path of total and complete utter-fucked-up-ed-ness.

OR

2. Get really sick of the path of total and complete utter-fucked-up-ed-ness and decide that enough is enough.

Of course, the first path eventually leads to the second. However, the time frame on that is different for everyone. For some people, it can take their entire life. Others pass from this world before they get there.

THAT’S how hard this shit is to get through.

The second path? Choosing that one… is just the beginning of the process of healing. Which, it should be said is an absolute bastard of a thing to do.

Because real healing requires in-depth levels of honestly – with yourself, about yourself, about how you relate to everyone else in your life. It requires real change.

Eventually, this second path leads to bone-deep wisdom. Life lessons you’ll find are applicable across all kinds of situations, times and places.

The other thing? This becomes an ongoing path for the rest of your life. Once you step onto that fork in the road, you’re wisdom-bound. Yes, you’ve paid a ridiculously high price. Yes you have.

But in choosing healing, or even in choosing being utterly fed up by feeling like crap… you’re on the path to a deep understanding of yourself, of life, of what makes being alive worthwhile. Despite all the horrors life has thrown your way.

I guess what I’m saying is that when ready, you WILL get there in the end.

But the road is long and so it really isn’t worth looking too far ahead. Way better to focus on where you’re at right now.

And keep an eye out for that fork.

~ Svasti xxx

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Talking about healing is hard to get right

22 Thursday Nov 2012

Posted by Svasti in Health & healing, Yoga

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Dealing With Your Shit, healing process, life changing events, Light Up Your Life ecourse, Nadine Fawell, PTSD, Trauma

Whenever I read what people have to say about healing – or even if I’m the one doing the writing – I always think it never really comes out right.

For those who’ve never experienced life changing events from which serious healing is required, I suspect the sheer scale of what’s been achieved by those who’ve bravely faced their personal wounds… is highly misunderstood and/or under-rated.

Even just a few years later, the worst of those wounded or healing years can take on a dreamy quality. It can be difficult to recall properly because honestly, don’t we all want to forget?

Then, for those who ARE wounded at that deep soul level and are pre or mid-healing?

Reading accounts of people who’ve made a full recovery can sound implausible.

Like…are they just making this shit up?

We wonder: can people really overcome PTSD, sexual abuse, depression etc…and not *just* cope, but come out the other side, thriving? Happy? Fulfilled? Living a better life in spite of it all?

I reckon there’s this underlying idea that if you can truly recover from a terrible situation, it can’t ever have been THAT bad in the first place. And if it really is that bad, well then you can NEVER truly recover.

As if serious tragedy is permanent and unrelenting and that once you’re broken, you’re always broken.

Sound familiar? For sure, it can feel that way. For years, even. It’s how I felt, too.

We judge ourselves like this and others as well. Quite unintentionally for the most part, I think. Even now, the worst of my healing process feels like it happened to someone else, or as though it couldn’t have been “that bad”.

But then I read through some of the archives on this here blog and realise that HECK YES, it was exactly that awful, and ugly, dark, scary, hard, and difficult.

For most of my healing journey I was alone. Desperately, sadly alone. And going through it all quite blindly. What I wouldn’t have given for a guide!

Unfortunately there was very little in the way of support groups or appropriate assistance for someone like me who didn’t fall into any particular pigeonhole.

But guess what?

A guide to help your through the darkness now exists!

Light Up Your Life - an ecourse by Nadine Fawell

My friend – and fellow yoga teacher and survivor – Nadine Fawell, has written a book, which turned into an ecourse: “Light Up Your Life” (starting January 14th 2013).

Nadine’s taken her hard-won wisdom – earned via healing a traumatic past that includes sexual abuse as a child – to become a kick-ass woman that I’m proud to know. She’s strong, funny, and running an inspirational yoga business. Doing the work she loves and making a living from it.

Recently Nadine gave me a sneak peak at the Light Up Your Life course, and I think its something that’s very much needed in our world.

There’s nothing like a helping hand from someone who’s been through the worst that life has to offer, as opposed to a well-meaning therapist who might never have faced adversity of any kind.

It’s a bit like imagining what its like to visit a certain country, versus getting advice from someone who knows that country well. Even better? Is advice from someone whose lived there, right?

Horrible life experiences are horrible

As I’ve written before, there should be no judgement on the size or relative importance of the event(s) that have brought you to your knees.

If you’re suffering or life is getting increasingly difficult to manage…then you have a choice to make: do something about it or keep going the way you are.

And if you choose to do something about it?

You’re already waking up to the beginnings of your future strength. For, taking actions to heal your life will make you stronger, even if you feel weak while you’re going through it.

I wish I knew why it works that way, incidentally!

So, do you need a hand with your healing process? From a local?

Happiness really does come from within

Both Nadine and I are super-duper locals in the realm known as Dealing With Your Shit.

Whereas my ebook will be support for people who are still going through the worst parts, Nadine’s book and ecourse are for people who’ve started to pull themselves out of the mire and are ready to work on making their lives awesome.

Nadine uses the metaphor of dusk-night-dawn-daylight to help step you through various phases of self reflection and of course, yoga and lots of powerful insights on supporting your life through the changes you’ll be taking on.

As Nadine says herself, Light Up Your Life is:

a more sophisticated version of the Two Words Project, helping you get clear on the life you want to create by finding your intrinsic motivation.

I’ve been using the Two Words Project this year and let me tell you, it’s been powerful! My posts to date on Two Words are here, and I’ll be writing a couple more before the year is through.

Essentially, if you’re ready to step up and make some possibly challenging, but very positive change in your life…then Nadine’s Light Up Your Life course is an excellent place to start.

In terms of timing, the course starts January 14th 2013, just in time to set yourself up for an excellent year!

Early bird offer!

Like many lovely yogis I know, Nadine is a super-generous person. So of course, there’s an early bird rate:

$99 for four weeks of super-reflective and nourishing course materials

That’s about $25 a week! Total bargain, right?

The full price for the course is $129.

Still pretty affordable but you might as well get the early bird rate.

Sound good? Awesome!

Then read more about it and sign up over here!

I’ll be a part of the course, too.

Let me know if you’re joining us!

~ Svasti xxx

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An ode to Snake Gully

11 Tuesday Sep 2012

Posted by Svasti in Learnings, Post-traumatic stress, Writing a book

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

confident, courageous, hiking, Nature, paths, pathways and patterns, powerful, PTSD, repeatable experiences, self-assured, Snake Gully, thrive, Trauma, waterfalls, you can’t ever go back

Snake Gully montage...

The place I went to for my writing retreat? I used to come up here maybe once or twice a year. More often whenever I could.

It was easier when I lived in Sydney because once I moved to Melbourne, I had a cat. As all pet owners know, you can’t just pick up and take off any time you like. So there was that.

Silvery blue sky magic

Then I got PTSD and although this magical home of my friends was the perfect place for me to recover, I simply shut myself up in my own home. Anything else was too scary.

I still saw them when they came to Melbourne but I didn’t make it back up this way much. And then I gave up car ownership, which made it even harder to take a spontaneous road trip…

Nature things - quartz, moss and animal trails

Anyway, back when I was a frequent traveller to this part of the world, we’d take many trips down Snake Gully. Which is on my friend’s property – just start following the creek to the south-east and keep on going.

Snake Gully is the sort of place where, if you’re sensitive to and aware of nature-type energies then you’d better bloody well ask for permission to walk the land. If you’re not, then you’d better just be respectful and watch where you’re walking.

Because the land, river and surrounds that comprise Snake Gully, are truly alive. It’s a place of magic, power and wildness.

sunshiney magic

So for the first walk of my writing retreat, I returned to the Gully.

My method of speaking with nature has changed: these days I can’t help but turn such things into songs. Wordless songs or chants, it doesn’t matter. As long as it comes from the heart and I can feel the boundaries of the world shifting in response, then it’s all good.

Traversing the Gully and its numerous waterfalls, I noticed the message I was being given and it took me back to a lament I used to have when in the midst of living with trauma:

There’s no going back!! I used to angrily repeat to myself over and over.

There’s no going back to how things were. I’m not the person I was before I was assaulted, damn it. I can’t even remember who I used to be…

You see, there’s this absolute anguish around not being able to return to a place or time or experience we used to have. It’s part of what makes grief so terrible. We think of not being able to go back as a very, very bad thing.

water and wood

BUT. Snake Gully told me this as I criss-crossed the creek and scampered over rocks:

You can’t climb down me and then go back up in exactly the same way. There’s no set path. There’s actually no right or wrong way to go. As long as you can see where it’s safe to walk, then it’s fine.

My paths don’t look the same from below as they do above. Some paths are visible; others are not. You might need to take the steep path up and away from the creek for a while because from where you stand, there’s no obvious way through.

There might be some hints of what move to make next, but there’s no guarantee. You have to try it out for yourself and see if the ground is solid/unslippery enough for you to pass. And when you return, good luck finding your original path! Take the route that makes sense and don’t worry about the rest.

Our western world is all about making experiences repeatable.

Same, same. NO different.

We build our cities on grids so it’s harder to get lost. We signpost everything. We create franchises and malls that look alike the world over. We grow up thinking we can do the same things we’ve always done and the way we’ve always done them. And most of us do just that.

waterfall magic

Part of the distress of trauma and PTSD is that it destroys what was. ALL the pathways you knew are gone. All the experiences of life as safe and happy. There’s nowhere to turn, no safe haven (or so it seems for the longest time).

This is part of what breaks us: we think we need this sameness to function and without it, we’re lost.

The process of healing has taught me that you really can’t ever go back and damn it, I don’t WANT to anymore.

A path or not a path?

Whoever I was before, that version of me is nowhere near as powerful, self-assured, confident and courageous as the person I am now.

So, we learn to function without our previous pathways and patterns. We find new ones and we see that yes, we can get by.

A balance of fire and water

Actually, we don’t just get by. We thrive. And see that change is a good thing, even on an everyday basis.

Change doesn’t matter in the end because when the previous layer or path is peeled away, there’s always something else just waiting for us.

~ Svasti

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I’m off on a writing retreat!

01 Saturday Sep 2012

Posted by Svasti in Health & healing, Post-traumatic stress, Writing a book

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Albury, Awayyyy, bushland, Charlotte Almond, ebook, faeries, kangaroos, koalas, lizards, nature sprites, PTSD, snakes, tea sipping, Trauma, wombats, Writing, writing retreat, Yoga

See this?

This gorgeous, rustic building is up a hill (accessible via 4WD only), in the middle of nowhere-ville. Okay, so it’s actually a few hours east of Albury.

Wild animals (wombats, snakes, lizards, koalas, kangaroos etc) live there. So do faeries and nature sprites (for realz, I’ve encountered them before!).

For ages and ages, I’ve been trying to get at least one book out of my head. Y’see, there’s a couple of ’em living up there at the moment… but it’s not always easy to do that kind of work when you’re distracted by your crazy busy everyday life.

A while back, The Divine Ms N sent out an email to her Yoga Mafia (read: newsletter subscribers!) with a super-generous offer from one of her contacts – a limited number of exceptionally affordable life coaching sessions.

Soon as I saw the offer I jumped right on it. JUMPED, I tell you. Because as I’ve alluded to already, there’s a few Really Big (Positive) Things going on for me. It’s all quite exciting and overwhelming, and I knew this offer of life coaching sessions had my name all over it.

Which is how I came to meet Charlotte Almond, who is an extremely lovely and canny lady. I can highly recommend her services, and will write more about her soon enough.

Together we worked through some of my Really Big Things, but also, laid down some powerful and practical steps I could take towards my Excellently Awesome Future Life Plans.

One of those steps is writing my ebook! It’ll be practical advice for those who are trying to recover from PTSD/trauma. Because trauma’s a bitch, recovery is freakin’ tough AND there really isn’t enough out there by folks who’ve been through it all.

And I can write this now, since I’m no longer in trauma myself!

However, to really be able to write down the bones of it all, I need to get outta town. Awayyyyy from my hectic job. Awayyyy from my home, which is comfortably hermit-like and filled with books I like to read etc etc. Awayyyyy even, from the internet and Facebook and Twitter (*ahem* says the digital media addict).

Anyhow, I was hunting for a place to get awayyyyy to. And I’d sort of forgotten that my friends (whom I haven’t seen in years) have this retreat space on their beautiful virgin bushland property. Up a hill in the middle of nowhere.

It was only when I posted a Facebook status asking for recommendations of cheap get-away places that my friends said, Ummmm, what about our place?

DOH!

Maybe because it’d been so many years between visits (I don’t have a car now and their place really is in the middle of nowhere), I simply didn’t think it was polite to ask. Also, I suppose there’s a part of me that’s become so used to being self-sufficient that I’m not accustomed to people being this generous with me. Even when they are, a lot. I don’t expect it, I guess.

However in a subsequent phone call, I was told very plainly that I don’t even need to call ahead. Just turn up. There’s always a place for me.

Wow, right? I have some awesome friends.

So I’ll be away for the next week. Living in an octagon-shaped room with a view of nothing but trees and enveloped in the sounds of nature. Doing yoga, eating whole foods, drinking copious amounts of tea and writing like a woman on a mission. Which I am.

Have to confess that I’m a touch nervous about it all, because writing this book will require some digging and re-visiting. But I’m strong and well now, and it’s all for a good cause. There might, however, be vomit. And tears.

When I return, there’ll be a mountain of editing to do. Then finding a designer to make it look pretty, and putting it all together. But how exciting to crow-bar all those words from my over-crowded brain, huh?

Also: a lil Spring clean!

So in case you’re looking at this post in an RSS reader or via email, I’ve just neatened up the blog. In the southern hemisphere, we’re on the verge of Spring, so a spring clean is appropriate: I’ve applied a fresh new template, tidied up my left hand column and so on. I’m loving the new look!

Enjoy your week, and I’ll check in on the flip side.

Wishing you all lots of creative inspiration!

~Svasti xxx

Other posts inspired by my retreat

  • Writing retreat report: I’m back!
  • An ode to Snake Gully
  • Writing a book is a topsy-turvy thing
  • Life lessons from managing a fireplace
  • Waterfalls sound like the Universe
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I. Am. Out. Of. Trauma.

25 Wednesday Jul 2012

Posted by Svasti in Health & healing, Post-traumatic stress, Two Words Project

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Depression, Enter your zip code here, Healing, I Am Out Of Trauma, Kinesiology, PTSD, Trauma

Yes. Yes, I am.

And I need to tell you about this because trauma’s a tricky little bastard who likes to make you think he’s permanently in your life.

Let me tell you: when you’re dealing with PTSD, you think its forever. It sure feels like forever. I really DID think it would in fact, be forever.

And yet.

I. Am. Out. Of. Trauma.

Truly. I’ve tears of gratitude and happiness and just the most GIGANTIC sense of relief and release flowing forth from every pore of my being. Because I know this now, and I know it deeply. Irrevocably.

But it’s not like I woke up one morning with a blinding flash of realisation – THAT I AM HEALED! No one sent me a telegram or email with said announcement, either.

Yet, I am out of trauma. I really, really am.

It makes me smile the broadest smile I can manage with this face that I was born with.

Cumulatively, I know this is true. Piece by piece, as I’ve reclaimed all of the forgotten broken parts of who I am.

And instantly I know this, too. In retrospect, anyway.

Last weekend I knew this most definitely, in my kinesiology session, where my kinesiologist Amanda, said this: You’re no longer in trauma. Life and these sessions are now about what’s next instead of what has been.

She said that and I knew it to be true. And I remembered all of the sessions. My early ones with Kerry. Then the first eight or so months with Amanda. As we shone lights on all the sneaky hiding spots that trauma tried to squeeze its self into. To remain and fester. Because that’s what trauma likes to do.

But that was then. Those sessions were then. All of those years, all of that sadness and grief… it isn’t who I am anymore.

Instead, I cackle out loud like a crazy hyena. I snort and belly laugh, too.

Because I. Am. Out. Of. Trauma.

This, I know deep in my bones as all of those Other New Things come at me… more change, but this time of the positive ilk. My job now is to prepare. To make the right decisions for my future and… already do whatever I can to help others.

And I can do that – help others – because I. Am. Out. Of. Trauma.

So all of the hard won wisdom is now mine to share. And that’s what I’m in the process of doing.

I want to hand write love notes to all of the wonderful healers I’ve worked with over the years. The people who kept me afloat when I otherwise would’ve drowned. I’ve so much gratitude for all of their love and care and support.

I. Am. Out. Of. Trauma. And now it’s time for me to give it all back to those in need.

~Svasti
xxx

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Chronic Yogi interview: Christine Claire Reed

19 Friday Aug 2011

Posted by Svasti in Chronic Yogi, Health & healing

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Anxiety, Bessel von der Kolk, BlissChick, body dysmorphia, Borderline personality, Christine Claire Reed, chronic abuse, Chronic Grief, chronic pain, Complex PTSD, curiosity, dancer, Depression, disordered eating, Erich Schiffmann, Fibromyalgia, healing movement, IBS, Kundalini yoga, Love, migraines, Peter Levine, self-judgment, singing bowls, stubbornness, Trauma, trauma release, writer, Yoga, Yoga Dance

Are you ready, folks? This is a loooong one, but worth the read. Grab yourself a cuppa and settle in!

~ / \ ~

Name: Christine Claire Reed (aka BlissChick)

Bio: I am a healing movement instructor, dancer, and writer, who finally has the tools to consciously keep in check the former primacy of depression, anxiety, and disordered eating in my life.

How long have you been a student of yoga? And how long have you been teaching?

I started doing yoga about 16 years ago for a very typical reason — I needed to calm down. I suffered from debilitating despression, anxiety, and many-times-a-month migraines.

I knew intuitively at that point that it would be first through my physical self that healing would come. I started with Iyengar and spent time delving into many schools, including Integral, Kripalu, Vinyassa, Ashtanga…you name it and I probably experimented with it at some point. About 9 years ago, I found and fell in total love with Kundalini.

I am now 43 years old and am finally seeing the fruits of those initial efforts, but most of my healing has come through creative movement and healing dance…which would have never been possible if I had not started to study yoga.

I have been teaching for about a year and a half.

What sort of yoga do you teach?

Currently, I teach intuitive dance based on the principles of yoga dance, the 5 rhythms, and an array of other modalities. I also teach a mixed class that relies heavily on Kundalini yoga.

Which form of chronic illness do you live with? When were you first diagnosed?

Oh, my…I think my most accurate diagnosis would be Chronic Grief. Yes. That covers it all.

There is no formal diagnostic protocol for living with and being neurologically-biologically changed by chronic abuse, being surrounded from the time you were born with the anger and violence of the two people who were meant to care for you. To try to put someone like this into a diagnostic box proves almost impossible, as I have found out over the years.

Some people would like to call me Borderline and that is not helpful at all. Children raised like I was often exhibit those characteristics but we most likely just learned those behaviors and are not actually Borderline in the sense of having psychoses.

Complex PTSD comes the closest but then there was no classically definable trauma but instead a string of sometimes daily traumatizing factors.

Physically I am quite certain many physicians would say I suffer from Fibromyalgia due to my (previous) chronic pain issues, exhaustion, etc.

Yes, I like “Chronic Grief.” Over the last two years of my life, I have come to a much healthier and happier version of myself, but I definitely still have times of struggle.

Now though, since I have the tools that I need, I am able to turn those times of struggle rather quickly into breakthroughs.

What sort of symptoms do you experience? Is there a known cure for your condition?

My symptoms over my life have been varied. As I mentioned, there has always been chronic pain. It changes and even now I can relapse but the more I MOVE, the better I feel. Period. I have to move at least 2 hours a day. Seriously move, as in sweat and exert.

I have gone through periods of disordered eating, and now because I dance, I know I have to eat well, so that was like an instant cure. I still have body dysmorphia issues, but I just take off my glasses while I dance through times like that and soon I am back in my real body. (HA!) Depression has been managed pretty thoroughly with gluten free eating. Anxiety is no match for Kundalini Yoga. Over the last twenty years, I have gotten rid of (for the most part): IBS, severe migraines, and not-able-to-walk-needing-a-cortisone-shot hip issues.

Chronic Grief = total mess. Really. When I was recently at a trauma workshop with world-renowned trauma psychiatrist and research scientist, Bessel von der Kolk, he said over and over that children of chronic abuse are a mystery to him in terms of how to help. That we are so basically changed by the chronic nature of our traumas. He said for a person to maintain curiosity about their internal lives (which is essential for healing) after a childhood like this is the sign of an extraordinary intelligence.

Though that was hard to hear (he kept saying that healing rates are rather low for people like me), it was also really affirming, because I HAVE maintained that necessary curiosity. In a recent interview when I was asked what I thought was THE THING people needed to heal, I answered with “curiosity about themselves,” and this was before the workshop.

I don’t know why I have been lucky enough to have that gift in my life, but I am thankful for it every single day.

Did you start teaching yoga before or after you got sick?

After, obviously. I have lived with all of this my whole life. Teaching has been such a gift. The energy exchange that happens between students and teacher is a healing balm for all of us, isn’t it? And I find myself feeling accountable to my students — like I have to do better for them!

If you got sick THEN started teaching yoga, what was going through your mind when you applied for yoga teacher training? Was your YTT impacted by your illness?

When I returned to dance at 40, I knew my life was either going to change right then and there or I was forever to remain stuck in illness. I opted for the change, and I knew for that to really STICK, I had to make some radically different choices.

So I immediately looked for any sort of training I could commit to and challenge myself with. I was lucky enough to stumble upon a Yoga Dance teacher training at Kripalu, and I signed up and paid right away so that there was no backing out. It was the scariest thing I had ever done, but I just walked through one fear after another to get there. I am stubborn like that.

My teacher training was a deeply emotional time for me. It was a time when I was witnessed as a dancer in more ways than I can possibly cover here. It was a re-birth.

I was also lucky enough to meet one of my main mentors in this life, Megha Buttenheim, who still guides me with her love and care.

Have you ever thought of quitting your teaching because of your health?

YES! There are times when I am feeling so awful that I am convinced that I am nothing but a fraud and that my students deserve the “real thing.”

Marcy (Ed: Christine’s partner) reminds me that my hard times are exactly what makes me that “real thing.” She is right. Many of my students tell me that I am their true teacher because I am so up front and honest about my struggles.

Have you ever shared your health condition with your students? If so, what happened? Has anyone ever reacted negatively?

No one has EVER reacted negatively. When I “confess” about difficulties to my students, there is a palpable sense of relief in the room.

It is important for people to see the weaknesses and vulnerabilities in others and especially in teachers. I use my own struggles as examples all the time and it is inevitable that someone (usually more than one someone) says, “Thank you for telling us that. I feel that way all the time and think I am the only one…”

Can you tell us a little more about how this kind of sharing works in your classes?

I usually talk about things like this at the very beginning of class so we can have a few minutes of contemplation and even quick little conversations before beginning with breath awareness, during which I then follow up with a suggestion for, perhaps, something they can hold in their hearts during class, a filter through which they can “listen” to their bodies for messages, information, stuff that needs to come up, answers to questions they’ve been having in their own lives.  When I tell stories like this, they are great at book-ending the class, creating another level of meaning to the work we do.

The stories I tell are always from my immediate life.  And they just happen.  I rarely go to class with the intention of talking about something specific. I show up and trust that I will know what needs to be said.  Erich Schiffmann talked at a workshop I was at about how it took him 20 years to get to the point where he could just go to a class with no notes, no topics in mind. This really startled me, because I have done this from the beginning (but I do have many years under my belt of teaching critical thinking and creative writing). I might take a quote with me but have no idea what else I am going to say.

For example, I might tell them that because of serious abandonment fears, I can get triggered by the most harmless things… like Marcy wanting to have a beer date with a friend. Totally NORMAL! But I can feel my fear monsters just rear their ugly heads, and before I know it, I am acting ridiculously angry and jealous.  BUT…I have come far enough to SEE it and so I know I just need to dance and get back in my body so that I can remember that I am reacting to my present out of my past.

After a story like that, there are a lot of out breaths and giggles.  So many people…especially people coming to Kundalini yoga who are obviously seeking something…they just need to know they are not totally wacko and alone and that they are actually quite normal in their…unhealthy or unproductive ways of responding to their feelings.

Then during breath awareness, I will direct them to be aware of any anxiety or tightness in their own bodies that was elicited during my story. During class, I would encourage them to be aware that their own stories might start popping up and that they can say, “HEY! There you are…” and just keep breathing.

I also have a free movement segment in all of my classes, regardless of what I am teaching, and toward the end of that, I direct them through a stomping, shaking, jumping routine that is based on Peter Levine’s work with trauma release. By this point in the class, they are usually already pretty “clear” but I do this to make sure they leave feeling free and emotionally flexible and strong.

Does your health ever affect they way you sequence or run your classes? (e.g. time of day, how you have your needs met before/during/after a class etc)

Mostly I have to be careful about how much I teach (I teach many classes a week but need lots of down time), and I have quit teaching gigs when I am uncomfortable in the environment. The way a place feels to me is very important, and if I am uncomfortable, I know I am not giving my all to those students. (Ed: this is pretty much good advice for all teachers!)

Other than that, I find the more I trust myself to teach what needs to be taught, the better my classes are. I rarely rely on my “plan” at this point.  I also have found that if I am in need of a certain type of class, that it most likely will resonate with the students. There is an amazing energy connection and synchronicity if we trust ourselves to tap into it.

It’s a bit of a “DOH!” question, but do you think your own practice and/or teaching have helped your health stabilise or even improve? Which part of your yoga practice helps you the most and specifically, in what ways does it help?

The biggest thing for me is that my own witness consciousness has expanded exponentially since I started to teach. I am able to watch myself and “see” what is happening with my mind/body now on a much deeper level, and my witness self kicks in much faster than ever before. I find I have become highly attuned to seeing the emotional state of my students in their bodies. That has been thrilling and again has rippled over into my ability to do this for myself.

I find, too, that I am able to find previously debilitating issues that would have led to self-judgment rather fascinating now. Like I am my own research subject now that I have students to share the findings with.

Also, as someone who used to sequester herself when she was having an extra hard time, I can no longer do that. I have a class six days of the week. I have to get myself together to meet my students and be open to their needs. This pushes me in very positive ways. I can’t sit in my own crap for very long any more.

Chronic illnesses can be very frustrating. Do/did you ever feel angry about your diagnosis? How does it impact your own yoga practice and your life in general?

I can feel quite angry. I feel angry that the way most of us are raised impacts us in such negative ways. I feel angry that violence in the home is a silent epidemic that culturally we refuse to acknowledge and that it then changes the person you were born to be. I get angry that we then have to work so damn hard on such basic things just to maybe some day get back to being that essential person/soul/heart. I get angry that so many people never ever get better and that they live their lives sad, stuck, never fulfilling their beautiful, powerful potential.

I get angry, yes, and it is the very reason I do this work.

Have you experienced any “dark night of the soul” moments/hours/days in dealing with your illness? What got you through?

Love got me through. My own stubbornness got me through.

There were many days and weeks and months of my life where I was not sure I wanted to continue to live, and yet I pushed forward. I am essentially an optimistic person, I have come to learn. I kept going; I kept searching; I kept doing the work. My will power and determination — two things that I was told I did not even possess!! — are incredible.

There are still days that the symptoms of “Chronic Grief” are overpowering. There are still days when the best I can do is get through that day in one piece. On those days, I can feel like a total loser for not being someone who can power through a giant To-Do list, for not being “normal.”

But I am learning that it is those days that are my biggest winner days, because I do NOT give up, I DO make it, and I LOOK FORWARD to the possibility that the next day holds.

From your yoga practice and studies, what sort of outlook do you have regarding your health?

My outlook is super sunny!

Through Kundalini yoga and dance, I have come to taste and know my own internal resources of power, courage, and beauty.

When I am dancing, I know 100% for sure that I am a piece of the eternal, the infinite in a skin suit. I am the universe exploding through this skin. I get stronger, fitter, more balanced, more creative, happier, more playful, more joyful every single day, and I know that will only be increasing.

How do you manage your health? With western medicine, eastern medicine, alternative therapies or a combination of them all? What one thing helps you the most?

Western medicine has never been helpful for me. Even with my migraines, the medicines that were tried on me did not help and usually made me feel worse. With depression and anxiety, the mix of pills they tried me on, created side effects that were worse than the “illness.”

I do not think Western medicine has anything to offer Chronic Grief, and I do believe with all my heart that the majority of people diagnosed with ANY “mental illness” are actually suffering from Chronic Grief (Ed: even people who don’t have a “mental illness” I reckon!).

They need to speak their grief; they need the grief acknowledged; they need to be told they are amazing for being so strong that they are still alive; and then they need to be helped back into their bodies and thus back into their lives.

I have used some alternative therapies, but it has mostly been telling my story and now dancing it out that has created my health.

Currently, my main self-care method is going to an energy healer every few weeks who does incredible mind-blowing energy work and using singing bowls to create vibrational reactions in my very cells and in my spirit. She cleans me out!

Is there anything else I haven’t asked you, but that you’d like to add?

If I could emphasize one thing here, I would BEG people…no matter your symptoms…to be truthful about your story and not let anyone tell you it is insignificant and to MOVE YOUR BODY. We were made to MOVE. Dancing is in our DNA. Ecstatic, sweating, giggling movement will change your soul and heal your life. I PROMISE.

Where you can find Christine

Blog: BlissChick Social media:

~ / \ ~

Christine – I really like your definition of Chronic Grief. I too, think grief underlies the discontent and unhappiness that many people feel. Something I’ve been coming to terms with lately is that no matter how small you think something might be, if it matters to you, then it matters. Also, the more we cram our emotions down deep inside for fear of their escape, the less likely we are to be happy and healthy. For healing to really happen, we really DO need to be honest with ourselves and tell our stories. So thank you for your wonderful words and for sharing so much with us here!!

If you have any questions for Christine, let her know in the comments. 🙂

Read other Chronic Yogi interviews

Get some more goodness from other inspiring yoga teachers.

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If you are and you’d like to participate in this interview series read my criteria, and email me and/or let me know in the comments. Your voice is more than welcome!

~ Svasti xx

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Dammit, I used to be the Salad Queen!

06 Thursday Jan 2011

Posted by Svasti in Depression, Health & healing, Post-traumatic stress

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

comfort food, Depression, diamond shards, Food, fox hole, half-life of trauma habits, jigsaw puzzle, PTSD, salad queen, sleep, smack down, time, Trauma

Recovering from trauma and depression is not unlike trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle: one made of thousands of tiny shards of a diamond. Sometimes those broken pieces are blatantly obvious, while others are almost invisible and you just can’t find ’em for quids no matter how hard you look. That is, until you end up slicing open your foot, blood everywhere.

There’s always, it seems, more to do. More to heal. Unravel. Soothe. Re-program. Sure, the pieces you recover might get smaller and smaller, but that doesn’t mean they’re any less important.

Time moves on and regardless of when the initial impact occurred, you’re still picking up the pieces for years and years, because they hide in the darnedest places.

The half-life of trauma habits

2009 was huge for me. So much happened! I became a yoga teacher, was unemployed for almost four months and took enormous leaps in healing my PTSD. At the same time, I very nearly succumbed to a most heinous and black-natured episode of depression.

In 2010, life was still up and down a whole bunch but gradually a sense of lightness encroached on the territory previously staked out and defended vigilantly by trauma. I felt rather absurd in my enjoyment of life, with the stark comparison of blacker times in my very recent history. But it was all good because those feelings of lightness kept coming back!

Okay, maybe they didn’t come back every day, and maybe there was plenty of hard work still going on. But suddenly I felt supported in my struggle. For every crappy time where I still wondered if stepping in front of a bus was a viable alternative to my empty, pathetic life… there was a yoga class that drastically re-organised my inner world, or a beautiful sunset that entranced me.

Despite my improving state of mind I was still barely coping with the bad habits that trauma had engraved deeply into my life: bad eating, sleeping too much and being quite hopeless at getting anywhere on time. Others were more subtle: withdrawing from being around people, avoiding conflict at all costs, and let’s not forget that broken stress reaction that causes anxiety attacks over a storm in a teacup.

It seemed grossly unfair. PTSD and depression had moved in, trashed the joint and even though they’d been evicted, they hung around outside a lot, yelling abuse and getting drunk in the driveway. And of course, they left behind one hell of a mess.

Thankfully, a couple of those habits have recently begun to break down. Kinda. I mean, I’m still not entirely in the clear. But things are better, y’know?

The first is food

Eating regularly and properly. For a good long while after that initial impact, I had no interest in or capacity for cooking whatsoever. And because I lived alone there wasn’t anyone around who noticed, and I certainly didn’t.

I’d eat ice-cream for dinner for weeks on end. Or cheese and crackers. Or grilled vegemite and cheese. Or nothing.

Occasionally I’d get my shit together and make a huge pot of soup. I ate a lot of take-out and really boring, repetitive meals because I hadn’t the energy or appetite for anything better. Comfort food was a staple, as long as it was easy to prepare or order.

Of course, I’d still pretend to eat well – buying groceries and then regretfully throwing most of them out. I didn’t care though really. It was all just more of the same as far as I was concerned: more days of trauma and fear that left me wishing life would just call time.

So you could say that caring about what I ate was very low on my agenda.

It’s still hard. I’ve gotten out of the habit of making food for myself and it’s not like the cat is going to encourage me. I reckon I still eat too much take-out, and I keep “convenience” meals around, like rice cakes and tuna to substitute for a “real lunch”.

I sure as heck eat far less ice-cream and cheese than I used to – they give me a belly ache anyway. And I’m working on encouraging myself, which generally boils down to making sure I have plenty of time to prepare my food.

Dammit, I used to be the Salad Queen! I made completely EPIC salads, full of tuna, eggs, nuts, seeds, herbs and all kinds of crunchy green goodness. I’d make them day after day, varying the contents or the dressing. And I loved them!

And I’d be all over making simple but tasty evening meals as well. Meals that I now struggle to find the energy or time for. But hey, I have plenty of time for other things, just not making my own food.

Good news, kids: the Salad Queen is making a comeback. It’s kind of on the quiet side, but it is happening.

The second is time and/or getting out of bed

The seductiveness of spending hours or days in bed, barely moving. Comforting. Safe. It’s a rough gig when you feel that awful and still need to be somewhere on time. Like your regular 9-5 day job, for example.

Granted, I had something of an issue with time before all this happened, but that was more to do with being young and irresponsible.

Depression changed all of that and for a long time the only way to feel safe was in my bed (well mostly, anyway).

Waking up was like trying to stop myself from falling. Impossible to do, balanced on a precipice and desperate to hold on to that relatively painless state of mind, ensconced in a bubble of beautiful disassociation. Nothing hurt there, when the nightmares were at bay. It was worse than the time I had glandular fever which left me deathly exhausted from merely walking up a short flight of stairs. Worse than that. Way worse, because at least with glandular fever, I wanted to try.

Leaving the house to go anywhere was an enormous act of will. It still kind of is. That feeling of home as my fox hole is very strong, and it’s very easy to spend all day there if I don’t have anywhere to be. Perhaps that’d be okay if I lived with other people, but as a solo act it’s pretty anti-social, right?

Structure is what I need to keep my weekends operational. Places I’m expected to be, things I’ve gotta do. I’ll write a list to remember what has to happen (buy extortionately expensive cat food, fix my bike etc) and then string those activities off whatever structure I’ve managed to form in order to do stuff and not waste an entire day, again.

Though, these days I’m naturally waking up earlier. There’s more of an impulse to leave the fox hole – gasp – just for a walk in the sun, with nowhere in particular to be. More often than not I can even get places on time – having to show up to teach yoga classes has strongly influenced my time management skills.

And heck yeah, having these things in some sort of order is kinda nice.

Smacking down those habits!

The shrugging off of trauma habits moves perhaps as slowly as everything else has. Piece by piece, and I notice another non-operational part only when I see it. It feels disabling to still be lumped with habits formed for reasons that are no longer valid, but it’s exciting to know that I’m now in a position to do something about them.

Yeah, I used to be the Salad Queen

The Salad Queen!

The Salad Queen!

Once upon a time, that was then

That’s right, I used to be the Salad Queen

The Salad Queen!

The Salad Queen!

And I’m coming back for my crown once again!

~Svasti

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Blowing up the Death Star

03 Sunday Oct 2010

Posted by Svasti in Post-traumatic stress, Time to come out

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Achilles heel, bogey men, Brutalised, Death Star, defiled, Depression, flower offerings, gravitational field, gut instincts, Incense, jasmine, light therapy treatment, Mantra, Meditation, nurturing, PTSD, Sanskrit, self-love, Skywalker, space junk, Star Wars, supta virasana, Trauma, use the force, yellow daisies

It was something about my face…of course, that’s where most of the physical damage was caused. And so, after leaving work on Thursday I did something that wasn’t particularly logical, all things considered.

I found myself at a beauty salon, wanting some kind of facial treatment. It was money I didn’t really have or intend to spend, but I didn’t even think about it like that.

Ended up getting a peel and they also suggested this light therapy thing. Didn’t know what it was, but it sounded good.

You look like you’re in need of a pick-me-up, the therapist slowly scanned my face and eyes.

Yep… [and I’m REALLY trying not to cry].

I did though, but not while she was in the room.

Somehow my instincts knew this was a good idea. Someone soothing my face with beautiful products and massaging my skin while delicate music was piped into the room. Low lighting and glorious aromas. An oasis in the middle of the city, a level up from one of the busiest intersections in town (not that you’d have known it).

She finished with the peel and prepped me for the light therapy treatment. Little goggles on my eyes. Something positioned over my head.

It’s really, bright. It takes a moment to get used to it. I’ll turn on one light first, then the other.

Soooo bright, yep, she wasn’t lying. Although my eyes were tightly closed nothing was black – instead everything glowed golden-red. And after a few moments I thought that this is probably what consciousness is like when we’re no longer limited to a human form. Everything as one, so very luminous. It wasn’t scary, just really relaxing.

Later I cried some more while I dressed – me with my smooth new skin that felt and looked wonderful. Sure I was a little shiny, but I was going straight home so what did I care.

I cleaned my practice room – vacuumed and dusted. I read these posts by Nadine and Kerry – which were incredibly timely (thanks gals!). I cried a whole bunch more as I snipped yellow daisies (I think?) and jasmine from the bushes outside my apartment.

My yoga practice was very simple – some breathing and then a supported supta virasana (although with the bolster further away from my lower back so I could tilt my pelvis forward more than the woman in this picture).

This pose always feels like hell when I first lie back, but once I relax it generates the most open and joyous feeling – the supported version is awesome if you’re feeling fragile!

Then I felt more open in both the hips and the heart. It was time for my practice which involves a series of chants and prayers in Sanskrit, and generating love, gratitude, compassion and wonder. Some incense and flower offerings, mantra repetitions and then… sitting. Just sitting in meditation for as long as I needed to.

My altar, adorned with flowers

There’s a bunch of structured or form-based meditations I’ve learned, but that’s not what I needed just then. So I just sat, following my breath and listening to my body, relaxing deeply. I think I sat there for around an hour.

From this place comes information. I got the face thing, then. Five years ago, it’d been defiled. Brutalised. And then I’d allowed it to hold my shame and fear. I’d also grown an invisible mask that covered my eyes as well as my entire face. I didn’t want people to see me. I didn’t want to see them. I wouldn’t let anyone get too close, just in case they were dangerous.

But now I’d begun reversing all of that with a symbolic gesture of self-love and nurturing (gotta love those gut instincts).

Then I noticed a whole bunch of energy rising up in waves from my stomach to my heart. Many layers. Hello, Fear. Hi, Despair. What’s up, Grief? How-dee-do, Shock? Each one reaching upwards, evaporating and integrating and no longer weighing a tonne in my belly.

I’ve never really told anyone this: my meditation practice suffered a great deal when all of this went down. I stopped for the longest time and felt terrible about it. But how could I meditate when those things could happen to me?

It took a long, long time to regain that ground.

The problem most of the time was relaxing (impossible to meditate if you’re tense!) and closing my eyes (which made sleeping quite tricky), because behind closed eyes was where all the scary stuff lurked.

Which is why the whole light therapy treatment thing was SUCH an extra amazing piece of synchronicity because that light – so warm and golden – blasted away any last possible dark hiding place.

See? No bogey men here!!

So I continued sitting and breathing until I felt like all the shackles I’d built up were undone. At least right at that moment anyway. I did some closing chants, extinguished the candles and slept deeply. Dreamlessly.

I felt… much better. Calm, and perhaps still fragile but MUCH better.

I’d never before felt the pull of this date or tied any meaning to it. September 29th has not once been circled in my calendar and I’ve never held on to it as a marker of what happened. Perhaps because I was trying to forget, I’m not really sure.

BUT this time around I wasn’t allowed to let it pass by (thanks tiny but accurate voice of intuition!) and I think that MAYBE… this is truly the beginning of my freedom.

Maybe it’s time – maybe I’m ready to no longer think of myself in relation to what happened, y‘know?

I suspect that to be able to say I am truly healed; this thing that happened has to become unimportant to who I now am. It can’t be a reference point for everything that happens moving forward and I can’t continue to orbit around it like it’s the center of my being.

Sure, for a long time that’s exactly how it felt. Like I was just space junk held in the gravitational field of the Death Star (i.e. the trauma, the PTSD, the depression, the memories of What Happened).

And somehow, the realisation of this milestone date, and exactly how far I’ve come in that time, not to mention some timely and amazing facial treatments (including all of that LIGHT!) were the killer shot, right in the Death Star’s Achilles heel.

Just like young Skywalker, somehow I found a way to use the force and blast that sucker… totally disabling its ability to destroy anything anymore.

But… I could be wrong. Time will tell I guess. At the very least, this is the beginning of the end of it all… Just like the end of my PTSD flashbacks, I’ll wait and watch.

In the meantime, I can’t believe how much better I feel. Possibly this is akin to how my old Self felt once upon a time, not that I can remember Her too well…

But it’s been a REALLY long time since I felt this good.

~Svasti

(With apologies to those who don’t get my geeky Star Wars references!)  😉

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ANZAC Day musings

25 Sunday Apr 2010

Posted by Svasti in Life, Post-traumatic stress

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

alcoholic, ANZAC Day, Battle of Gallipoli, DNA, hamster wheel of hell, Lest we forget, mental health, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, Rats of Tobruk, remembrance, transgenerational transmission, Trauma, WWI

Today is ANZAC Day here in Australia – which stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. Essentially it’s the remembrance day for those who fought in the Battle of Gallipoli in WWI. Generally speaking however, we honour all of our armed forces on this day – those that survived as well as those that passed.

All over the country, dawn services are held. There’s also one held in Gallipoli every year which is very popular with Aussie tourists, kind of like a pilgrimage of sorts.

In yesterday’s weekend paper, there was a piece about the remnants of an army unit known as the Rats of Tobruk – The Last Rats who fought in WWII. My maternal grandfather was one of their number but unlike the men featured in the story, he passed away thirteen years ago.

This is a photo of my grandfather, taken the year he died. I so wish I had a photo of him in his army uniform when he was young – he looked so handsome back then!

There’s things I know about my grandfather that made me do a double take on each of the former soldiers featured in the article.

Like, I know that he returned an alcoholic – not an uncommon side-effect of war. Somehow, despite his daily drinking he managed 85 years before he finally succumbed to liver cancer. I was living interstate at the time but my mother told me how confused and terrified he was on his deathbed – “…he was convinced the war was still going on and he was in the bunkers, hiding from snipers…”.

One moment he’d be lucid and talking to family members and the next he was re-living the war. I also know that he saw one of his best friends get blown up in combat, and there must be other atrocities he never mentioned but lived with for most of his life.

All of this tells me that my grandfather had PTSD – before there was a recognised diagnosis for it. Without any support for his condition, alcohol became the only way to anesthetise his ongoing trauma. Of course, he wasn’t the only one.

These days soldiers coming back from the war aren’t much better off. PTSD is generally recognised now, but sufferers are still not appropriately treated. Just read this case study, which talks about the soldier’s experiences, but says almost nothing about treatment.

As well as remembering my grandfather and everyone who’s ever gone to war on behalf of their country, today I remember that some of those survivors have lived with untreated PTSD for many long decades. It breaks my heart that some of the men interviewed in The Last Rats possibly still deal with PTSD even now.

On top of that, I’ve been considering my family history of trauma. There are theories and research on something called “transgenerational transmission” of PTSD, and here’s just a few examples:

  • Transgenerational transmission of cortisol and PTSD risk
  • DNA of PTSD
  • PTSD, Family, And Genetics

It doesn’t seem so far-fetched to imagine that changes to the brain wrought by PTSD can impact a person’s DNA, creating an inherent risk of PTSD for that person’s progeny if they too, suffer a traumatic event.

As well as my grandfather, I suspect my mother experienced it, too. In addition to being powerless to stop the adoption of her first child from proceeding (against her wishes), she almost died giving birth. And she’s mentioned things from time to time about “…not being able to stop the memories from coming back over and over…”. It’s reasonable to assume that she too, could be a PTSD sufferer. Undiagnosed and untreated, just like my grandfather.

So if there’s any truth to the research on genetic pre-disposition, what hope did my mother or I have in the face of extremely traumatic events in our lives? It certainly helps me to understand why I had such an intense reaction to a single incident of being assaulted!

But fortunately for me, I grew up embracing alternative therapies and so it wasn’t too much of a leap for me to talk to a therapist or try EMDR, which meant that I got the help I needed and ultimately, I’ve been able to free myself from the hamster wheel of hell that is PTSD. Of course, the study and treatment of PTSD have also advanced significantly in recent times.

All of this makes me think that every ANZAC Day should be a time when we also consider how war affects people’s mental health. How many returned soldiers are still suffering in silence? If as a society, we could make it okay to talk openly about mental health issues without fear of stigmatisation, it would help. I know from my own experience that silence only makes things worse, even though at the time I thought it was a way of protecting myself.

Lest we forget those who died, and those who still live in a daily personal version of hell. Love and healing to you all.

~Svasti

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Shock jocks traumatise teenager

30 Thursday Jul 2009

Posted by Svasti in Life Rant

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

2DayFM, gimmick, Jackie O, Kyle Sandilands, lie detector, Lies, no appology, rape, Sex, Trauma, win Pink concert tickets

What I think of Kyle & Jackie O

Ooooh, I’m hopping mad!

This is a HUGE story in Australia right now – the Sydney-based Kyle and Jackie O breakfast radio show ran some kind of gimmicky competition to win Pink concert tickets.

I’m sure if Pink heard about this, she’d be appalled.

The set up? Apparently, two people call in, one gets hooked up to a lie detector and the other asks the questions.

Who calls in? An entirely unfit mother dragging her fourteen year old daughter on the show. That should’ve been a red flag right there.

The producers knew in advance what kind of questions the mother wanted to ask her daughter – whether she takes drugs and has sex.

Yep, she’s legally a minor and her mother wants to ask her these questions on live radio. Somehow neither the producers or DJs or anyone connected with the show saw anything wrong with this.

Then, it goes horribly wrong for them.

Because it turns out the girl was raped when she was twelve, something the mother (words fail me) KNEW ABOUT already, but when asked on air, at first claimed she didn’t know if her daughter had had sex!

Under pressure to answer questions, the girl gets emotional and blurts out her painful story. On live radio.

King Bumbling Idiot Kyle (well known for his general idiocy and arrogance) clearly didn’t want too many seconds of silence go by, so asks her:

Right. And is that the only experience you’ve had?

The mother then admits she knew about that, but wanted to know if that was the only time!!

Mercifully, Kyle-the-Fuckwit’s sidekick interrupts, ends the segment and the girl doesn’t have to answer. Both shock jocks/idiot people ramble on about offering counselling to the girl – which she’s had none of to-date (thanks mum!).

Listen to an audio of the segment.

The next day, the King Moron writes a blog post defending himself and claiming he didn’t realise he’d said what he said. My blood is boiling!

It’s wonderful how everyone wants to avoid blame. No one wants to take responsibility. The whole thing is just sick!

Thankfully, the police and child services are investigating the situation.

Sure, Kyle and Jackie weren’t solely responsible for what happened, but they sure are responsible for how they handle themselves. And how they dealt with things afterwards.

Kyle was quoted as saying: We’re not on a time delay, but even if we were, I wouldn’t have dumped the segment… There was no breach of any radio code. What I’m most annoyed about is that some of the press have jumped on this and made it out to be a stunt and a ratings ploy.

I’d like to scratch his eyes out for that statement alone!

Let’s not forget that this incident could and probably did trigger a whole bunch of listeners dealing with their own trauma/abuse/assault/rape/violence.

Or that the girl, already traumatised, is now embarrassed too? That all of Australia knows what happened to her?

I’m busy making complaints to the broadcasting authorities and leaving comments on blogs. I simply can’t tell you how furious this makes me.

But I’m not alone. The uproar is widespread, thankfully.

Some of the news coverage:

  • Girl’s rape revelation sinks radio stunt
  • Call to sack radio hosts
  • Kyle and Jackie O: radio rape case to be investigated
  • Austereo in crisis over Kyle & Jackie O rape debacle

If only they’d all say sorry, unequivocally and with no if’s or but’s.

Maybe then I’d feel they were genuinely contrite for this prank, instead of just patting themselves on the back for organising counselling sessions and quietly celebrating the publicity this has generated while doing what they can to avoid being sued.

Grrrr!

**UPDATE** Looks like the public outcry has been taken seriously. The show has been suspended indefinitely with Kyle saying he is ‘unable to work’ or something like that.

**Update #2** OOOH! Kyle is also a judge on Australian Idol. Or he WAS until today. He’s been sacked, thanks to the powers of an international franchise (Idol – see its good for something!).

I really hope that everyone involved takes a good hard look at themsevelves in the house of mirrors and wakes up to the truth of their abhorrent actions!

**Update #3** MediaWatch’s take on the events, PLUS… they shed light on the vile two-some’s other deplorable antics.

~Svasti

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  • Who am I becoming?

Guest posts by me on other blogs

  • Yoga with Nadine: 5 Key Tips for Healing From Trauma
  • The Joy of Yoga: Guest post from Svasti
  • Suburban Yogini: My yoga story
  • BlissChick: EmBody Talk: Svasti, Yogini & Survivor
  • CityGirl Lifestyle: A Pearl of Wisdom {by Svasti}
  • Linda's Yoga Journey: I don't know how old yoga is and neither do you - part 1
  • And part 2
  • Getting help

  • Beyond Blue (Australia)
  • Black Dog Institute
  • EMDR Assoc. Australia
  • Gift From Within
  • Root Cause of PTSD
  • Trauma & mental health
  • Women Against Domestic Violence
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