If you need immediate assistance, dial 911.
Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects, and distressing in others.
Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at try.
The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her step grandmother; it was under this influence that she thrived. Her step grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was she who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.
Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.
Shelby considers her writing a gift, a joy, and a tremendous responsibility. It is something that helps to define her life.
The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her step grandmother; it was under this influence that she thrived. Her step grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was she who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.
Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.
Shelby considers her writing a gift, a joy, and a tremendous responsibility. It is something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University. She works in healthcare.
She lives in beautiful Western Washington with an aunt, an uncle and her disabled son, Jordan.
She lives in beautiful Western Washington with an aunt, an uncle and her disabled son, Jordan.
A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters
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I was having a rough day; very rough. Until that is I just saw the latest commercial from The Partnership for a Drug Free America...with their new commercial called "Denial is a Drug". And I had a "now, that's what I am talking about moment".
Yay! that someone said it out loud.
Because my novel addresses/explores the very real, unrelenting and almost debilitating experiences I had with confronting other people's denial. So when I saw this commercial I thought I was going to shout "praise the Lord". And much like denial facilitates drug abuse, it also facilitates other forms of abuse as well...like the abuse my son suffered back in 2000.
Prior to Jordan being hurt by a man named Billy, I was already in and out of shelters. Why? When my family lived just down the road? Well, because my abusive ex-husband was friends with my family...and they did not want to hear that he was abusive. Did I mention a number of them are still friends with the abusive ex. Why? I am thinking because "denial" is in fact a drug. A drug that deadens us to reality. A drug that keeps us in our comfort zones and off of the front lines (of actually making a difference in people's lives). Denial is a drug!!! Wow!!! I could not have said it better myself!!!Denial keeps the abuse going! Denial insulates otherwise caring people from acting! Denial keeps people from repenting! Keeps people from getting their hands dirty with having to extend themselves!
Denial keeps a family from even seeing or calling their grand child; because if we say it didn't happen/or that wasn't as bad as it actually was then we can go on with our lives like it never happened. Disabled kids are disposable aren't they? They don't need love, family, encouragement, respect or memories, right?
Denial should not be a drug...but a simple defense mechanism, lasting from 5 minutes to maybe a few weeks...it should not be a way of life!!! But it is for so many!!!
Can denial hurt someone? Yes, I have a disabled 15 year old who is as scarred by Denial as he ever was by Billy injuring him.
Prior to Jordan being hurt by a man named Billy, I was already in and out of shelters. Why? When my family lived just down the road? Well, because my abusive ex-husband was friends with my family...and they did not want to hear that he was abusive. Did I mention a number of them are still friends with the abusive ex. Why? I am thinking because "denial" is in fact a drug. A drug that deadens us to reality. A drug that keeps us in our comfort zones and off of the front lines (of actually making a difference in people's lives). Denial is a drug!!! Wow!!! I could not have said it better myself!!!Denial keeps the abuse going! Denial insulates otherwise caring people from acting! Denial keeps people from repenting! Keeps people from getting their hands dirty with having to extend themselves!
Denial keeps a family from even seeing or calling their grand child; because if we say it didn't happen/or that wasn't as bad as it actually was then we can go on with our lives like it never happened. Disabled kids are disposable aren't they? They don't need love, family, encouragement, respect or memories, right?
Denial should not be a drug...but a simple defense mechanism, lasting from 5 minutes to maybe a few weeks...it should not be a way of life!!! But it is for so many!!!
Can denial hurt someone? Yes, I have a disabled 15 year old who is as scarred by Denial as he ever was by Billy injuring him.
This is my son, Jordan: for whom "The House that Silence Bought" written
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