Before the sun could shine again, it rained, and rained, and rained. Darkening my very heart, and causing me great pain. I searched my soul for many years, to repair the damage that was done. Before I saw a rainbow, and could walk into the sun. Are you living your life in fear? Are you over stressed? Were you diagnosed with depression, anxiety disorder, compulsive thinking disorder, agoraphobia, or panic disorder? If you were, you need to read this story, my story. At times, do you wonder where you came from, who you are, and what is the meaning of life? I sure did. Sometimes our lives spin out of control in ways we would never expert. We search for answers, sometimes feeling discouraged, confused, and alone, but we never have to feel abandoned. Where there is faith, There is love. Where there is love, There is God.
Courageous Butterfly
A journey to self-acceptance – A message of hope, love and courageBy Nancy ForbesBALBOA PRESS
Copyright © 2011 Nancy Forbes
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4525-3321-6Contents
Foreword.........................................................xiAcknowledgments..................................................xiiiIntroduction.....................................................xviiChapter 1. My Early Years........................................1Chapter 2. Teenage Years.........................................9Chapter 3. The Wild Escape.......................................19Chapter 4. Sweet Jessy...........................................31Chapter 5. The Incessant Dialogue................................53Chapter 6. The Winding Road to Recovery..........................65Chapter 7. Yoga..................................................93Chapter 8. Yesterday, a wise young man spoke.....................109Chapter 9. The Whispers..........................................117Chapter 10. The Ego Speaks Hard..................................135Personal Messages................................................151The Monkey Mind..................................................155The Truth........................................................159Closeness with God...............................................165God Is Love, Love Is God.........................................169The Greatest Gifts...............................................173A Precious Moment................................................177Coming Back to Love..............................................183Fly Away.........................................................191The Art of Moderation............................................195The Power of Friendship..........................................199Whispering, "I love you."........................................203It's Okay to Ask for What We Want................................207I Will Live this Day, and Love this Day..........................213The Power of Letting Go..........................................217People Pleaser...................................................221A Knock from Heaven..............................................225How Can We Help?.................................................231Self-Healing Mantra..............................................235Afterword........................................................239
Chapter One
MY EARLY YEARS
I was only five years old when my sisters Sylvie, six and a half, Johanne, three, and I were placed in a convent outside Montréal. I remember that terrifying period of my life, recalling how frightened and shocked I was when our parents abandoned us. Terrified of the unknown, we were left with strangers without any explanation of why or when our parents would come back for us. A war started to rage inside me, fear took over my tiny body, and I could not understand why my mother had left us. Minutes turned into hours, then hours turned into days, and the weight of the rejection began to rip my heart apart. Overwhelmed by fright, I curled up into a ball and cried for days. I hurt from the very core of my being; that was the beginning of my intense suffering.
With a broken heart, fear seemed to be the only emotion left in me. At this very young age, I had set in motion soul-pain feeling unwanted, unloved, unworthy, and unaware that this baggage would follow me for most of my life. Yet during those terrible months, I had also set in motion my survival instincts. Somehow, I found the strength to survive every obstacle that came my way. I stood for long hours inside a crib, in wet diapers the nuns had forced on me. Humiliated, I waited and waited. I waited for the return of my mother.
As time passed, exhaustion took over, and this allowed me to sleep. It was a brief release from my deep sadness, but only until my eyes opened again. After weeks of endless tears, I finally stopped waiting. I felt trapped; morning to night, I lay in the crib and used my imagination to pass the excruciating hours of seclusion. Behind bars in a crib, like a bird in a cage, I felt abandoned and neglected by everyone, including my parents. The three long months felt like an eternity. I was only five years old, and I lived through my first experience of isolation and abandonment.
The bittersweet return
Home again, my parents tried to reconcile their differences for almost two years. This interlude resulted in two more children, twin girls, Chantal and Sonia. We were now five innocent little girls, ranging from the age of one and a half to eight, in a very dysfunctional household. My father was constantly missing and seldom supported his family. My mother was struggling for money and time, and she worked long hours in a distressed state of mind. Running out of patience, she became overwhelmed with responsibilities and decided to leave our father and send us away. Déjà-vue! As I recalled the pain of our previous separation, I became hysterical and out of control. I cried and begged my mother not to leave me again. I was overwhelmed with fear, as I knew what to expect—the abandonment, the loneliness, and the excruciatingly long wait. I remember crying out, "How long, Mom? How long this time, Mom?"
The very first night at the convent of Centre Térèse-Martin, I cried so hard that I threw up all over my bed and on the stuffed animal that my mother had given me for Christmas, my own precious lion. My insides were torn to shreds; my lion was the only friend I had in the whole world, and I had vomited all over him. That little ball of fur was my only comfort, my companion. It was the most precious possession I owned. I felt my mother's gentle touch in the comfort of its soft, warm fur. I was devastated. I could no longer press my little furry friend against my chest to feel my mother's love. Scared of the reaction of the nuns, I got up, removed my sheets, took them along with my lion to the washroom, and tried desperately to wash them clean. I then returned to bed, carrying with me a very wet stuffed animal. I rested my head on the pillow, squeezing my only friend in the world close to my heart, and waiting forever to fall asleep in a cold, naked bed.
My sisters and I were making a great effort to survive and trying to understand the new situation. We had been separated from each other. Sylvie and I stayed at the convent Centre Térèse-Martin and my younger sisters were put in foster homes. I was only seven years old, facing my second horrific "left behind" abandonment. Little did we know that this time, the wait would be five long years! Even though Sylvie and I were living in the same center, we were separated from the start. We had been placed in two different dormitories, walls and floors apart, so we could only see each other at meal times. My eyes would hunt through the large, noisy cafeteria, hoping to have a glimpse of my sister, desperately looking for a familiar face. My life was upside down; nothing made sense any more. I was sitting only a few feet away from my older sister and yet I was unable to reach her. I wanted to scream, "Let me go, let me be with my sister. I need my life to make sense again." But I was trapped. Someone else was in charge of my every move. I couldn't do what I knew in my heart was right. I had to walk their way, speak their way, and follow their rules. At all times, I had to be obedient and well mannered to meet their expectations. I was forbidden to sit with or talk to my...
