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The day was sweet, like sugar, like nectar, like something that could have filled her days forever had it not been for the bomb inside her mind. It ticked so softly and shifted not, so that she hadn’t the idea that it was there, collecting the ammo of knives and needles. 

All it needed was a trigger man. 

It was not the fault of the one who pulled the trigger the night she first tasted red. She was a live wire, due to something in her mind that just wasn’t quite right. It had morphed her self-hatred and her vulnerabilities into weapons, weapons she could use on herself. It mattered not that the walls were white instead of brown, it mattered not that they bound her wrists and mouth and locked her way, it mattered not that those who loved her would never be able to reach into this scarlet world. She had weapons now. And, even if they only worked on herself and those she cared about, she could not resist the itch to use them after being weak for so long. 

Time passed backwards here, never day, never night, only white. She reached out to others, others with weapons. They shared ideas, sparked each other’s madness. It was here she met the disturbed. It was here she found out where she belonged. 

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Sweetheart, I'm here for you

Sweetheart, I’m Here For You

Like all broken things this creature with wounds still locked in fresh bandages she needed a protector. Around her she saw no one, but she was a creative creature this one was. So she conjured up something from nothing, a person, someone that was hers and hers alone that would keep her company and, more than that, keep her from harm. 

In truth his power was limited, if not nonexistent, but in her mind he held every power she wished of him. 

There was a love there, for she cared for the thing that cared for her. He kept watch at night, picked her up off of floors when she fell into tears, and told the bad people where they could go. He was her plaything, her partner, her everything. If a God was, this was truly the kind of false idol he must have warned about, for he was nothing short of worshipped by her. 

She was instructed by him how to act, taught again how a normal human being should be. But she never quite grasped it, never quite clung to his lessons, and was always the peculiar child. Due that to the suffering she endured or to her chemical makeup, it didn’t matter in the end. What was best however was that it didn’t matter if she was peculiar, there was always one “person” that loved her. 

He could have been her first sign of schizophrenia, a spirit guide, a demon himself, or something even more sinister. People speculated about what they didn’t understand. But she never needed to define him, what he was was hers. 

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Perfected by a God that may or may not be, there was a flawless creature once. Her footsteps shook worlds, her imagination surpassed all other qualities, other than perhaps beauty. But the devil hates beautiful things. He sent a demon to her, to take her closely into its arms and cover her mouth, but to do nothing about the tears. Somewhere someone collects the screams of young girls that never escape their lips. As this demon held her cracks appeared In her skin, fractures small at first and then larger and larger, until he dropped her into the dirt, something ugly and destroyed. 

She rotted there alone for a long time, until before her decaying flesh she saw a flower grow. It screamed of possibilities, and taught her something she’d treasure more than anything else for the remainder of her life: you can make something beautiful out of the ugliness in this world. 

She gripped this flower, then armed herself with it by sliding it into her hair. Broken and damaged she went after that demon, and when she found it, she didn’t just kill it. She caged it, like she’d been caged, and took away everything it had. It then left it there to learn what rot really was.

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Hello everyone

Firstly, thank you everyone who has commented on my previous post — it is so helpful to communicate with people who identify and understand what I am going through. I have done the SLAA steps up to Step 9 but I decided to stop before proceeding with Step 9, because something did not feel right to me. I felt that I should make amends to my abuser which is quite probably insane. By that point, my Step 4 had revealed that I had an over-developed sense of responsibility and codependency.

So, I put the SLAA programme on hold and went back to Step 1 in CoDA. Despite a number of people in my SLAA fellowship telling me that this was a bad idea and that I should finish SLAA first, my instincts (once again, when I listen to them!) proved me right. I will not abandon everything I learned in SLAA but stepping away from the SLAA H.O.W. programme was definitively the right thing to do. It's too shaming and punitive and I have enough of that within myself anyway (for those who don't know, in the SLAA "H.O.W. method" the steps are no longer suggestions but requirements and there are "punishments" for breaking your bottom lines (that is not the language of the programme but that is essentially how I interpret them; i.e. there are consequences for breaking your bottom lines and sponsors will frequently dump sponsees if they break a bottom line more than twice and that type of thing)).

Anyway, I digress...I now know that migrating to CoDA was the right thing for me. Why? Because I had made the opinions of certain SLAA group members my Higher Power and I have been suffering from extreme anxiety and sleeplessness for well over a year now (I was averaging about 3 hours of sleep a night). Since doing Step One in CoDA, I have come to recognise that I am a people pleaser, that I am an approval seeker and that I have a lot of avoidance and control patterns, as outlined in the CoDA programme. I have come to recognise that my motivation to speak is often rooted in approval seeking but then I leave myself open to being hurt if I receive disapproval because I have made that person my Higher Power. I also recognise that I do not seem to have developed codependent relationships with everyone. Some of my friendships are heavily "polluted" by codependency and others are not. I was trying to figure out why but then I realised that it "takes two to tango". So, where my relationships are not laden with codependency, it is those particular people who are not severely codependent; the relationships whereby codependency is heavily playing out in the relationship, both myself and the other person are heavily codependent.

Does anyone else relate to this? I have found this so beneficial! I can breathe a lot easier and I am sleeping between 7 and 8 hours a night! It's like a miracle! :-)

Yours in truth and sending lots of love,


I'm new to online SIA

Hi my name is Lindsey,

I m new to online SIA but have gone to in person meetings as well. I just wanted to start by saying that I just completed reading a book called, "It wasn't your fault," by Beverly Engel, and I have to suggest it to anyone struggling with this past of incest abuse that I am.
For the longest time (aka since the abuse) I was never able to forgive myself for going back to the abuse, for not fighting, for not saying anything, or helping myself. I realize now that I was young, and I look back on the abuse with a much more mature mind, but there was a passage in the book in one of the chapters. It may have been two paragraphs long, but it speaks of forgiving yourself for going back, and the two paragraphs were the words that I have been searching for, the support I desperately needed to forgive myself. I read them, and I cried for two hours. The tears were of relief, and pain surfacing. It was a beautiful moment that I will remember all my life. If anyone struggles with forgiving yourself for the same, maybe this book can help you like it helped me.

Thank you for letting me share my journey

P.S. Does anyone know if the SIA store is still operating? I ordered over a month and a half ago and still haven't received my order. Not sure if I should be asking for a refund, or wait longer... thanks =]


Hello all, I am animallover89 and I am an Incest Survivor. Okay that feels weird saying that. I am not saying that we are weird because of what happened to us I am not saying that at all. What I am saying is that its very hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that I was a victim of incest. To me I feel like I was a victim of sexual abuse,rape,and other things both by people I knew and strangers but not incest. I am however told by people that know my story that I was a victim of incest. That is actually how I found out about the SIA website and this support group. 

I actually have a question. Does anybody know how to go about inserting a LJ cut? The instructions that are given in siastepstudy LJ account I believe is out dated.

Struggling to change my thinking

I have been in the healing process for a very long time. It is clear to me now that I need to change my thinking. I am very negative about myself. I think thoughts about myself I would never think about anyone else. I am working on changing my thinking. Tonight I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I am fighting an uphill battle. But I will continue to fight. I will learn to think about myself in healthy ways.

Hi, I'm new!

Hi everybody,

I'm Katy and I'm an incest survivor.

I came here after realising through therapy that I am dealing with toxic shame about my childhood relationship with my father. I'm reading an amazing book called "Healing the Shame that Binds You" by John Bradshaw. Originally written in the 90s, this seems to be the best book on shame out there and is full of insight.

My biggest takeaways from the book are as follows:

1. It is relationships that got us to this shameful place in the first place. It is healthy relationships that will heal our shame
2. The most effective way to heal shame is to find a support group
3. Writing is a great way to express shame.

So, here I am! Still figuring out how this livejournal thing works...

I feel hopeful about being here and also emotional as I write this. would absolutely love to receive comments from anyone supportive out there!

Yours hopefully,



My name is Maria, and I am an incest survivor.

Last month I confronted my father about the incest. I had not spoken to him in 15 years. I arranged a private dining room in a restaurant and invited my father by letter.

I had not been sure whether or not I would confront him, until I found out at the end of last year that my father would be going for a longer period of time to my brother and his children, who all live abroad. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed with a necessity to inform my brother, and to protect his children. As I am very careful with sharing my experiences, not only to protect myself, but also the vulnerable relationship I now have with my mother and brother, I felt I had to confront my father first, before informing my brother. I did not want to be accused of demonising my father behind his back.

He showed up. And so, he and I spoke to each other for the first time in fifteen years. I had a voicerecorder in my purse, so I would end up with tangible evidence of our rendez-vous. We talked for two-and-a-half hours. I did not confront him until the very end, because I knew from our history  that my father has a tendency to walk away if the questions become too difficult.

Before he showed up, my father first called to the restaurant, and he tried to persuade me to postpone our meeting until he returned from visiting my brother. I refused. Then he tried to make me come to him. I refused. Then he wanted to know what I wanted to talk about. I told him that he had to show up if he wanted to find out. He reluctantly agreed. When he did show up, I first refused to hug and kiss him. He immediately threatened to leave. And so I did hug and kiss him. This meeting just had to continue. I did it for King and Country, so to speak.

My father was very angry. At first, he kept repeating: "What is wrong with you?". I think that he just could not deal with me standing up to him. But I gave him no easy opportunity to walk out. Even though it was sheer darkness what expressed itself to me. My father told me that his time with me was the only thing during his marriage and his life at that time that made him happy. I asked him whether or not he thought that was going too far. His response was: "Too far? No, totally not! I liked it!" And after a short pause: "And you liked it too!" I was between  five and twelve years old.

My father showed also an incompetence to have adult relationships with mature responsibilities. With contempt he spoke about the times that my mother wanted him to divert his attention from me to his responsibilities as a father. Also, he showed a general contempt for women. He basically confessed, or should I say brag about, that he used women instead of being used by them. Love clearly does not exist in his vocabulary. And also, there was absolutely no love for me during all the time that we spoke.

He told me that he wanted to teach me about the world. I did not tell him that he basically taught me not to trust, not to tell and that love is painful and I am undeserving of positive attention. Instead, I asked him about protection and teaching about healthy boundaries. He had clearly no idea what I was talking about. When I asked him how he felt his lessons turned out, he said he considered me to be a failure. I did not respond. I carefully asked him if he could imagine that I had encountered sexual feelings during my interaction with him when I was a child. He said he could imagine that, but that would have been my fault, because I had no boundaries as a child. "You attached yourself too strong, and you were too clingy as a child", was his response.

I told him then that I wanted to have this confrontation because I wanted to know his level of insight. And clearly, I told him, he has none. And that makes it all the more important for me to inform me brother, as I am worried about his children. "You are sick", he said, "I am worried about you". "You needn't be worried about me", I said , " but I am worried about my niece and nephew". My father continued the conversation to encourage me to look for help. And without responding I thanked him for coming. I felt sick afterwards. There's a part of me that would have wanted to shout, to curse and to have used violence against him. But no matter how difficult it was, I kept my dignity.

I informed my brother through e-mail. He thanked me, and though it came as a big shock to him, he does believe me.

Since this confrontation I feel that I have dealt with an illusion I have cherished for a long time. The illusion that I will get recognition and compensation from my abuser for the wounds that I suffered. It won't happen and that hurts like hell. But it also gives me the much needed space to learn to care for myself. Which I do not know so well how to do. With the help from my Higher Power, from SIA and together with you I can try.

I am grateful for SIA, the fellowship, the literature and my Higher Power, who all helped me to maintain my dignity in the face of this difficult encounter. And I thank you for reading this and I am very thankful for my opportunity to share.

With love,


The truth

I was an innocent child that has learnt that love hurts. Love is not supposed to hurt; it is loss of love that is supposed to hurt. I have learnt to feel that loss of love is a relief. That is a lie.

I maintain the illusion that I can control giving and receiving love by feelings of guilt, shame, superiority and inferiority. Acceptance of my powerlessness over love feels like I will unavoidably be overwhelmed by a devastating loneliness. That, too, is a lie.

Taking care of myself and to be gentle with myself feels like I am conveying the message that I was not harmed by what was done to me. As if I need recognition from others to feel, see and experience my own wounds. That, too, is a lie.

The truth is I am equal to my fellow human beings, that I can do my best to be of service to them and to trust that love will follow.

I was innocent.

I did not deserve to be abused.

I am equal to my fellow human beings.

I deserve to be loved and my love is worthwhile.

I am capable to take care of myself.

I may be proud of myself.

This will be my affirmation, and I will repeat it until I believe it as strongly as I came to believe the devastating message I took from being abused as a child.

As always, take what you like and leave the rest.

In love,


Latest Month

July 2018

Welcome to the Survivors of Incest Anonymous step study meeting on Livejournal!

SIA uses a very broad definition of incest, and this meeting is open to everyone. Please read our info page to find out how this meeting works.

This is a place where we can share our experience, strength, and hope in recovering from sexual abuse. When sharing, to protect each other's emotional safety, we do not give advice, evaluate what anyone else has said or mention their name in our shares.

We respect our own inside people and our members who are multiple. If someone asks for suggestions in their share, it is okay to respond via the "speak" link under their entry.

If you are a newcomer to the program or to this meeting, please feel free to introduce yourself (but it's not required).

This meeting has a focus on sharing about our experiences with the twelve steps, but it's fine to share anything related to our recovery from abuse.

If you have questions about how the meeting works, please speak with someone privately (look for an email link on the info page) or wait and post them as part of the business meeting.


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