How To Live A Joyful Life After Trauma
Okay, so you read that title and you maybe thought, “She’s nuts. Doesn’t Michele know there is no joy after trauma?”
The short answer: Yes, I know it feels like there’s no joy after trauma. If you’ve read my trauma/PTSD recovery memoir you know that it was that very belief – that joy was not possible for me — that set me off on a joy quest that became the catalyst for my full healing.
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So the title of this show reflects what I know from my own experience: there are ways to tap back into your joyful self after trauma. But you don’t have to just take my word for it. I’ve got stories from clients who have experienced this same transformation.
This week’s guest, however, came from outside of my own world. Angela Shelton is the pied piper of how to live a joyful life after trauma. She joined me for the full show to talk about her own journey out of trauma, plus offered tips for how you can move through yours.
MEET MY GUEST:
Angela’s directing debut, the multi-award winning documentary Searching for Angela Shelton, led to appearances of The Oprah Winfrey Show, Larry King Live, 48 Hours Investigates, NPR, Lifetime Television and the cover of the New York Times. She later wrote Finding Angela Shelton about her experience during the making of the documentary and the epidemic of abuse and violence.
She co-wrote the screenplay for Tumbleweeds, winner of the 1999 filmmaker’s trophy at the Sundance Film Festival. The movie was based on Angela’s life and a chapter from her first manuscript, written when she was 19. Her Emmy award winning performance as a Superhero for children in the video series, The Safe Side, has taught countless children about Stranger Danger and other important topics.
Angela has traveled the country speaking to various audiences about the epidemic of abuse. She has spoken in Congress, universities, military bases, high schools, elementary schools, community centers, conferences and seminars nationwide and abroad. She has helped over 30,000 people learn how to move forward and live “happily ever after.” Her unique perspective and joyful humor inspire others “to live a joyful life no matter what you’ve been through (and we all have a story).
The Be Your Own Hero Workbook is Angela’s most popular product, helping people move past pain and into living fun healthy lives. It is used in classrooms, support groups, and therapist’s offices around the country. Her extraordinary new children’s book series, The Adventures of Tilda Pinkerton is filled with lots of life lessons and is written to expand the heart, mind and vocabulary.
Michele struggled with undiagnosed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) for 24 years. Then she was diagnosed and went on a healing rampage! Today she inspires others to reclaim their lives by creating change they choose.
I’m almost there with both Michele and Angela. I am learning God only gives you want you can handle is so true. I’m learning he knew every hair on your head before you were even born. I’m learning to love myself and the PTSD that made me the strong woman I am today. You truly cannot be happy until you are happy with yourself. I’m on my way! If it wasn’t for my faith in the Lord, I don’t think all this would be possible. I also know listening to other strong women such as Michele and Angela, who prove you can be happy after so much trauma, made me finally realize I was no longer going to be the victim. There is no way I was going to allow the abusers to have that control on me because I know they do not care. I am a survivor not a victim!
@Colleen — I only got where I am (and I bet Angela would agree) very slowly and with baby steps along the way. I love, love, love hearing you say you are learning to love yourself, that’s such a gift and one only you can give your tired, heroic soul. Here’s to being a strong survivor who reclaims her life!
Dear Michele, I agree with you on the baby steps. It’s been a long road, but I never gave up on healing and loving myself. Everyone needs to love themselves not caring what anyone else says about them. I have eliminated all the toxic people out of my life concentrating on healing and loving my grandchildren fighting for my rights and winning. The one thing they use to love about me, my PTSD, is the one thing they used against me in court. Imagine that! I found out most people including my abusive “family” do not want me happy and healthy. I no longer give anyone the power over me by trying to make me feel guilty by saying no. Finally, they cannot walk all over me since I am NOT that YES person they “loved” so much. When I started saying “NO” that is when they no longer “loved” me. The fact is they were just users and abusers never loving me. I cannot say I feel sorry for them because I feel nothing for them. I feel for me and my grandchildren. I do not need their type of love. My definition of love was always different from theirs. It took 47 years to realize abuse was not normal, but I am there holding my head high being very proud of myself. My life has been horrific, but they did not take my heart full of love and they made me stronger. For that I thank them even the three predators. My goal is to help others by sharing my story of surviving 47 years of every kind of abuse one could never imagine. I use to say I was so tired, but now I say I am inspired. Thank you for your kind words from one strong survivor to another. God bless!
@Colleen — You’re my kind of survivor! I lovvvve this line, “It’s been a long road, but I never gave up on healing and loving myself.” You sound so empowered, strong, creative, boundary-defining and full of a confidence that might sometimes be rattled but never shaken loose. You NEED to be sharing your story. So much people can learn and be inspired by in you!
Michele, thank you again for your support. You got that right I sure can be rattled, but I am working on that among many other things. Everyone should also love himself or herself in spite of what they survived. I know it is hard to do when you are beaten down so much, but somehow I never allowed any of my many, many abusers to sway me from knowing I mattered in this world and they were wrong about how they tried to belittle me and mistreated me. Anyone can now call me every name in the book and I will laugh in his or her face. I have no fear except God. I love this verse from the Bible, “He knew every hair on your head before you were born.” I truly believe this.
Now I am going to share with you some things about my life, which you may already know but other do not. This is about a 16th of my life of pure abusive hell for almost 48 years. I do not know if I should be writing all this, so if you feel it is inappropriate then it is okay with me if you delete it.
I had an invitation about 4 years ago from a New York Publisher to send my completed manuscript to them. The problem was I did not have an ending. I have 85,000 words typed and 20 chapters. I have not written in it for many years, so it needs to be edited and so much more needs to be added. I will be sharing my story of living with PTSD since birth and surviving what even my doctors and few friends do not understand how I survived. Some are so amazed by how many bad things just come to me even when I am minding my own business. I tell them God had a mission for me all my life to share my story of survival helping others.
I remember going to a doctor by myself at 17 telling him I feel like I am having a heart attack. He did nothing looking at me like I was crazy. I now know I was having panic attacks. My parents took me to a psychologist when I was about 12. They never took me back because he told them he could not help someone who would not speak. Well, maybe if he did not have my abusive parents in the room during our session I might have spoken up about my half-brother sexually abusing me at eight years old and them subjecting me to domestic violence and abuse telling him that is why I was smoking cigs and pot, drinking, stealing, lying, cheating at school, etc. Maybe I would have told him how messed up it when I was about 10 my father took me to witness an accident scene no child should have seen when my 5 year old cousin shot and killer her half brother playing cops and robbers.
I started stealing when I was very young remembering going to a neighbor’s home stealing a girl’s one Christmas present just because I wanted it. The next day her mother told my mother it was missing. Since it was obvious I really liked it, they came to me and I gave it to them where I had it hidden in my dresser. I did not need it as we always had the best holidays when it came to gifts, but emotionally our holidays were always ruined as I have learned this is typical behavior of most abusers.
From what I what I survived it does not take a rocket scientist to figure out my diagnosis, but it was difficult for the “doctors” to figure out. I have found most do not want you better because you are their meal ticket.
I now have an ending to my Autobiography by winning my grandparent right’s case seeing my granddaughters in December. I am afraid my ending is not yet complete as their games have just begun since they do not want me to have any relationship with my granddaughters all out of retaliation. I have not seen my babies for over two years all because I reported credible abuse. Everyone that hears their distorted side of the story thinks (and I do not care) that I am a horrible mother and grandmother for reporting the abuse to the useless Children & Youth Services.
I told my daughter I was going to do it if she did not get out of the relationship or they both get help because I was not going to turn a blind eye to abuse on my girls as what was done to me. She told me to F off saying my granddaughters are none of my business. I told her I am grandma that makes me grand of all and my granddaughters are my business. Without me she nor my granddaughters would be here as I almost aborted her because my 1st husband beat me for eight long hours when I was a few week pregnant for going on a job interview. I was not going to bring a child into his heroin addict world, but I just could not go through with it.
So I am labeled as a snitch and I do not care, for reporting abuse on my girls trying to get my daughter an intervention by all of those she hangs with and their parents who were all abused in one way or another and are not smart like me to realize it is time to end the abuse. I only care about my granddaughters’ wellbeing and not those who do not know what they are talking about and keep turning a blind eye to abuse. Not one of them have the nerve to say anything to my face.
I have been in six abusive relationships fist fighting men thinking it was normal since I grew up with violence, ignorance, and hatefulness. I found out New Year’s Eve 2010 another boyfriend was going to kill me than himself because I dumped him due to his abuse. He told someone who told me at the party he said he was so obsessed with me that was his plan because he could not stand the fact of anyone else having me. My instincts told me this 17 years earlier, so I purchased a gun. He just violated a PFA twice from his wife. I surely dodged a bullet there and she is in my prayers.
I do not know when the abuse began in my family, but I do know that my great-grandfather named his son, Adolph, who did the same with his son. While researching my family tree I found and contacted Adolph the 2nd. I was told my Granny and her siblings had a horrific childhood. Their father would spit and punched them in their faces and urinate on them. My great-granny had her finger bit off trying to break up a fight. Then on the paternal family tree I was told my great-grandfather hung himself after the Civil War, so I was doomed from the womb.
My 74 year old Aunt is the only one in my family who has my back teaching me more and more about love and God through my grandmother in heaven, who died when I was only 2. My Aunt told me she was so proud of me for finally ending the “holding the grandchildren cycle from the grandparents” in both side of the family tree telling me it killed my grandmother. I know it is true because it almost killed me. I wished my child had loving grandparents who cared while she was growing up. Every child needs loving grandparents. I had them, but they were kept from me. My daughter did not have loving grandparents on neither side. We both lost, but I am making sure my grandchildren do not lose. I fought very hard and won. I almost gave up a few times, but I just could not as I promised my oldest granddaughter I would fight for her to be with me again and I do not break promises.
Corruption got involved in my case, which is getting ready to be sent to the Supreme Court giving me a second book. I must finish the complaints first, which are almost completed. I thank the Lord for giving me 10 years of employment at Blue Cross, who provided me with excellent documentation skills. They all thought I was stupid including my own child because I was labeled in court due to my PTSD. I thank all of them for underestimating me because I am coming back with a vengeance for what they did to my granddaughters and me.
When I was in Vegas, some woman read me telling me God put me through so much because he knew I was would make a difference in this world. She knew about me being artistic saying I was currently working with my hands on something. That something was my Autobiography. I was in a domestic violence shelter that also had homeless floors. She was on one of the homeless floors. The only reason why we spoke is due to me having breakfast chores that morning because someone did not show up as they kept the DV girls away from the homeless as much as possible. We were on the 3rd floor in complete lockdown. You had to take the elevator to that floor.
In the early summer of 2004, I was running from four pimps who were trying to recruit me. I also had my abusive 2nd husband calling me saying he was coming to be with me. When I showed them the pictures of all the bruises he gave me by kicking me over and over again and then rapped off the pimps names to a shelter worker, I was put in complete lockdown on the DV floor. I was also asked if they could call the police to be an informant. I told them, “No way they are the ones who put me in the situation!” Besides when do you ever hear of pimps being arrested by local cops? You don’t. They are arrested when the FBI do their prostitution stings.
Prior to my PTSD surfacing around 2000, as a single mother I had a great job at Blue Cross making $45K in 1999. I bought my own home without child support furnishing it with all antiques, two vehicles, etc. I was living the American dream. I quit my job eventually selling everything running from my problems, as you will read AGAIN, ending up in Vegas. This can all be read under my Las Vegas Experience posted by Glendene Grant, who is missing Jessie Foster’s mother, under link: http://www.nowpublic.com/world/my-las-vegas-experience.
Then I ran for my life out of Vegas to Texas. Life was peaceful for about two years. Then I was packing my vehicle to move back home. This real hot guy came up to me asking me if I needed help. I have learned the hard way a beautiful face does not make a beautiful heart. This was also one of those times when I should have said NO! It is a long story, but I was moving back home and was set up for stealing one of the Mexican Mafia’s family member’s vehicles. The kid was not all there in the head being very slow not knowing the evil he was hanging with. It did not take me very long to figure it out. Those who did steal his vehicle were the ones who helped me pack my vehicle as this was all part of their plot. I escaped death yet again.
I was a 16 year old runaway in June 1981 due to my father’s affair. The mistress set it up with her 19 year old neighbor for a 15 year old innocent me to witness it. That 19 year old became my 1st abusive BF. When the mistress did not get her part of the plot (my father) because I did not snitch him out until 2004 when I wrote my mother a letter from Texas telling her what her accepting horrific domestic violence for money did to me, she snitch me out for sneaking out at night. The first time I ever snuck out was to witness what I was told I had to see with my own eyes, which turned out to be the affair. My father smacked me in the face so hard for the same thing he was guilty of resulting in me urinated my pants running out of the house. A few days later the 1st boyfriend, who was now in the Navy in Florida, wired me money for a bus ticket. At 16, I was on a bus alone with a destination of 1,000 miles away from home. I could have been kidnapped, raped, or murdered just by being on that bus alone. I cannot wait until she gets her KARMA as he did and my father, who was just in a bad car accident breaking two vertebras in his neck and some in his shoulders. I know that sounds cold, but why should I care since he has proven he does not care about his own daughter. My parents also met their KARMA when their sons legally fired my father from the family printing business, which was my paternal grandfathers. My father raised us on the business including the one he adopted giving him everything over his own daughters, who the predator sexually abused along with my cousins.
My mother always told us she knew about the mistress. She would tell us kids, “She could have his money, but she can’t touch his money.” Real nice, huh? If a woman touched my man, she would be eating dirt and he would be speaking dealing with me in court. I am so glad I am the Black Sheep.
The abuse always began after 2 a.m. when he came home drunk from being with his mistress of 16 years beating on my mother turning our quiet sleeping home into complete chaos and fear. I was always drug out into all kinds of weather always after 2 a.m. to go to Granny or Aunt’s homes. In the letter, I also informed her of her son from her 1st marriage sexually abusing me at 8 year old. My sister finally backed me up about 5 years later. Then he was an SOB, but to this day I received no reply. Then I ran into her in a doctor’s officer. Quietly, I told her to her face what I thought of her. As she kept her head buried in the magazine, she never acknowledged me. It really hurt bad at the time as I cried when the doctors came into my room. All I ever wanted was one easy word, “Sorry”, that seems to be the hardest to say. I realize I will never get it and I am now fine with that. I said my peace and ended another chapter in my Autobiography, “What is Wrong with the Black Sheep?”
I did some research calling my school questioning how they explained why I did not attend my 11th year. I was told all they have written on my school records dated 6/12/81 is FLORIDA. I have since picked up my records as proof they did not even wait until the next school year to inform the school. I cried my eyes out. I thought how could my parents not save me? Here I had proof they knew from the beginning they were not coming to save me from a statutory rapist.
They left me there for 8 months starving sucking on ice cubes for days because he ate on the Military base and bought alcohol and drugs with his money. Since he was in the Military, there was no excuse for them not to save me. I was sexually groomed by my half-brother, my father’s mistress, her 19-year-old neighbor, and a few more. The 19-year-old is now dead being thrown out of a windshield on my 2nd husband’s birthday. My 1st husband would grab me by my throat throwing me down on the bed spousal raping me as our 1 year old baby slept in her playpen in the same room. I would head butt him, spit in his face, etc. but he did not care. I had to be quiet though as I did not want to wake my baby up to see such a horrific act of violence. He is now suffering from throat cancer for over 7 years as I remember his hands around my throat raping me. I have another one who mistreated me who died of cancer. Now if this is not God’s doing then I do not know what it is! My few friends joke that I am the black widow.
When I ran for my life out of Texas, I eventually ended up homeless back home living with friends. I filed for social security disability ending up in the Projects collecting food stamps and cash assistance. I did not even apply for WIC for my child even though I qualified when she was little, so I felt like such a loser. I felt like I had nothing to live for, so I tried to commit suicide taking so many pills on St. Patty’s day 2006. I do not know how I survived, but I woke up two days later in my bed mad I was still alive. Then six years later in 2012 on the same day, 3/17, my Granny died. I found out when I opened up the newspaper reading her obituary. It was awful to find out that way on my own my Granny died. I cried my eyes out for days. I was my Granny’s favorite because I was the first granddaughter. My Granny taught me how to crochet and sew. Then they kept her away from me. Then I found in my granddaughter’s bedroom in my home a Tiger I bought for her on St. Patty’s day at a 2nd hand story in between 2006-2012 when I took her to a parade. I thought to myself how eerie that was. I tried to take my life on St. Patty’s day, my Granny died on the same day six years later, and on the same day my granddaughter threw a fit until I bought her this stuff tiger that was nothing special, but she wanted it for some reason. I feel that was another sign from God that he made us tigers.
I also overdosed on Meth in October 2006 self-medicating because I was misdiagnosed as being bipolar being put on the wrong medication. I am 150% Chronic Post-Traumatic Stress as I had to diagnose myself. I will not tolerate abuse anymore. If you raise your voice to me I will walk. I have protected a few from violence, so I just try to stay by myself anymore because when I see violence all the memories come back and it is not good for my well-being. It is time for Colleen to take care of herself until she can help others the correct way. It is going to take some time, but I am surely on my way.
@Colleen — Thank you so much for sharing your story with me. You definitely sound like you’re on the road to a new future. I’m excited for you to get there!
Michele, sorry about the darn typos. I am pretty sure you can figure them out.
Michele, me too!