Archive for April 29, 2010

Confessions Book Launch Draws Crowd of Almost 200!

What an incredible night it was! Yes, the books did arrive in the early afternoon. And all went smoothly after that.

The auditorium of Women’s College Hospital was filled to overflowing with the wonderful people who joined me in launching Confessions of a Trauma Therapist.

One of the best parts of organizing the book launch was hearing from old friends and seeing so many people who matter to me at the launch itself. Read more

Today is My Book Launch!

I’ve been telling readers of my blog that I was in a blissful state of calm about my coming book launch.

Well, all that bliss got shattered a few days ago when I still didn’t have any books for the book launch.

Imagine! A book launch with no books! My trust in the universe and my assurance that if I just did everything in my power, it would all turn out just as it was meant to – all that faith turned into an internal windstorm of sleepless nights and a stressed body. Read more

I Was the Smartest of the Dumb Bunnies

Childhood trauma is cumulative. You start out being traumatized by the original abuse. Then, each stage of life piles on more bad experiences. As a child, I couldn’t clear my head to think. This excerpt from Confessions of a Trauma Therapist describes my life in grade three:

“Grade three was the year the class was divided into two. Smart kids got to do grade four work, skipping a grade. Dumb kids sat in separate rows doing grade three stuff. I was held back with the dumb kids.

I dreaded telling my parents. Standing in front of them that evening, I looked for a way to soften the blow.

‘Well,’ I assured them, ‘I’m the smartest of the dumb bunnies.’

My father howled with laughter, doubled over, smoker’s cough erupting, breathless with the hilarity of it. That was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Smartest of the dumb bunnies! Ha, ha, ha!

My mother shared his amusement, albeit less raucously.

As for me, I just slunk away, relieved they weren’t mad at me. Nobody ever asked me how I felt. I don’t remember my parents ever mentioning it again.

My friends went on with the smart kids and I stayed behind. By the time I got to high school, I was already older and feeling more sophisticated than my classmates especially the late-maturing boys. When I was sixteen, I tried to makeup for the lag by choosing an older boyfriend. His interest in me may have soothed one part of my battered ego, but the fact that I couldn’t say no to his sexual urges made me feel even worse about myself.”

Travelling Around with My Father

Here is an excerpt from Confessions of a Trauma Therapist describing my camping trips and visits to cottage country with my father:

“I was aware and at the same time I wasn’t aware that my father’s frequent stops to open the trunk of the car were making him more and more drunk. He kept a red metal Coke cooler there with a block of ice and glass bottles of Coke. He would drink a bit from the bottle, pour in a belt of rye and continue sipping and driving until the next stop. Read more

When Father Came Marching Home

Here is another excerpt from my book about father-daughter incest:

“In 1945 when I was seven, the war ended and the men came home. What a strange time for the world. It was an era of post-traumatic stress disorders from the horrors of war. And for many it was a time of marital stress from too many years of living separate lives.

I don’t know how my parents’ marriage would have been different if it hadn’t been interrupted by the war. And I don’t know if my father would have relied less on rye and Coke to face his world. He had always been a party boy, but after the war he was seldom sober. Read more