Catacomb Productions

Anyone who has ever suffered from abuse, whether it was emotional, psychological, spiritual, physical, sexual, or any combination of those terrors, knows that it is nearly impossible to acknowledge one has been a victim. Being a victim seems to say something negative about us, rather than about our abusers. Being a victim of a more powerful and evil force, frequently coming from a known and even loved person is an overwhelming reality which is very painful to acknowledge.

 Acknowledging it, as necessary as it is for any healing, seems to increase the original pain because it makes us face the fact that not everyone we love and trust is trustworthy and loving, or at least not as much as we presumed and hoped.

 State laws ignore the fact that it is nearly impossible to deal with such horror in our personal lives until we have the opportunity to grow strong enough and that opportunity does not present itself simply by passing years.

 Our ability to trust is destroyed or harmed so severely that becoming secure in our adult relationships is often a life-long effort. And, without that inner sense of security, it is impossible to deal with our original betrayal safely. We run. We hide. We ignore the abuse and its very real effects until we can run no more.

 For many that does not happen until our own children reach the age we were at the time of our abuse. For others it is when grandchildren reach that age. There is no time limit to this, as the legal system would allow.

 State Statutes of Limitation need to be abolished in cases of childhood abuse. Criminal molesters of youth, whether pedophiles or ephebophiles are sick, but still criminals, and allowing statutes of limitation to protect them only paves the way for further abuse of children.

 I am not a poet of any distinction. My poetry is simply in the bardic tradition of my blood. It tells stories. Sadly, part of my story is the spiritual, emotional, and sexual abuse I received from a Religious Sister of Mercy whom I had grown to love and trust with my soul. My prayers about this have been many. These are just a few.

 My abuser is protected by civil law. She has been protected by her religious community--that same community which did not protect me from her. I pray for her and for them, that God will have mercy. I pray too for myself, that I will heal, and have mercy, and share it with others. I pray for those of you who have been abused, and for those who try to help us.

 Your truth is what makes you who you are. Don't let it be robbed from you or silenced. You are more than the abuse you suffered, much more!

 Peace,

 Cáit

"Catacomb Productions"

 © 2003 Rev. Cáit Finnegan

 Catacombs house all dead bones, buried in decay.

 History, herstory, all stories of their day.

 Memories that no one knows.

 Memories of friends and foes.

 Thoughts that they will never say.

 In my own soul, buried deep, rotten stories dwell.

 Only good ones surface, while smiles would hide my hell.

 Mem'ries buried deep within,

 Mem'ries of another's sin

 Against me, I now shall tell.

 My catacomb productions rising from within--

 My own creativity healing shall begin.

 Words and music flowing out

 Hope replacing every doubt

 Sealed in my soul by her sin.

 I mourn youthful years long gone, ripped away from me.

 Shame secures the sepulchre, but truth holds the key.

 Resurrection sheds a light

 On my dark and deadly night.

 May this Grace now set me free!

 May anger fuel your courage to let your own light shine

 On your darkest memory, let in light benign.

 Reclaim your own life today

 From the one who took away

 Your spark of light and life Divine.

 You need not dwell in your hell of your catacomb,

 Or wait another day to roll away the stone

 That would keep you locked inside.

 Rise up now and open wide

 The door to the life you own.