RAVENHAWK
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©2013
Book Reviews for SOLD!

"RavenHawk’s story of triumph and transcendence is a Must-Read."
-Nancy Moran, Integrative Nurse Coach
 
“Sold” is intense."
-Kelli Weaver, Child & Family Services Director
 
"This story left me with the feeling that I could do and be anything".
- Heaven Leigh, Author

"Without a doubt Majick RavenHawk has written an incredible and inspiring book."
-Debra Jayne East, Author


 
Majick RavenHawk, Ph.D., CCHt, CHHP
Newest Memoir
On Sale NOW!

A Portion of Sales Go To Engage Life Institute
a 501c3 Non-Profit Public Charity.

"Raising Awareness of Child Trafficking, Generational Abuse
and Trauma and Domestic Violence!"


Sold on the black market
at birth, My journey is one of overcoming what could very well have been a tragic end to my life.

This story walks you through life events than can define us if we allow them to.  In this story we see how my life along with others was involved in the madness of the collective unconscious.  People in my life acting out in rage, abuse and other destructive patterns simply because they believed in "their story".  A story that had been implanted into their subconscious from an early age that they "weren't good enough", that "they had no choice", and that "it was the only way".  They had bought into the lie that their lives were defined by their circumstances and were powerless to change.

I in no way makes excuses for the destructive actions of my parents, myself and others that played out the drama of my early life. I came to understand that "their story", void of consciousness dictated that they carry on the generational abuse.

Until society becomes consciously aware of their own trauma and abuse and comes to understand it for what it is, we may all be trapped to repeat the patterns of our own dysfunctional families.

With an emptiness in my heart that fiercely burned an enormous hole in the very being of my soul, I tried for many years to fill that vast emptiness from the outside in.

I looked to fill it in the many relationships that came and went, money that came and went, careers, food and many material things as well. I was constantly searching and allowing the need to consume me.  Life was passing me by and I so wanted to be an active participant but always felt something was holding me back.

Then in an instant, a spark of knowledge that existed since before the begging of time revealed the answer.  The answer does not exist anywhere else but within all of us.  I traveled deep inside myself to find the answers that freed me from the dark place in which I resided.

I had found the courage to allow myself to awaken to the truth.  To know I had control of my own life.  I chose to end the cycle of abuse and trauma. I realized I indeed did have a choice.

The journey to release the past was painful to say the least and it was a journey that I had to take sooner than later in order to survive.

My hope is that my story will help those of you who carry the demons of abuse and trauma while unconsciously traveling the road of life not knowing why you cannot find your purpose.  You find yourself living half a life being unfulfilled in so many areas of your life.  Learning why you drift on the waves of uncertainty and cannot get a firm footing in safety, security and happiness.

My hope is that you learn from my journey and that it might make your own journey less painful by awakening you to the reality of what can be if you allow.


From:  SOLD! "A Black Market Baby's Survival and Journey into Awareness"

From Chapter ONE


The voice at the other end of the line said, “Ms. RavenHawk, your mother passed away this morning, I am so sorry”.  There was a long silence on my part.  I wasn't sure what I was feeling.  It all seemed so surreal.  I was having trouble feeling any one particular emotion. Of course, I thought, there are several steps in the grieving process and I’m probably in one them at this very moment. 

But there was something more.  It felt like an out of body experience. I could feel my essence separating into small fragile pieces and begin to drift into the still nothingness.  No…not now…not this feeling again.  I had felt this way when I first went into therapy and started opening the doors to locked childhood memories.  I quickly struggled to gather the pieces up before they vanished and there was nothing left. 

And in that one monumental moment I slipped into an unconscious state of mind, no longer living in the present moment but propelled into the past where I frantically began to search the recesses of my mind trying desperately to find fond memories of times with my mother.  It was all so foggy.  I so desperately wanted to find a GOOD memory, but just couldn't find one.  I searched and searched, certainly there must have been something good about our relationship at some point of my life?  I hadn't thought about this in years.  I soon realized that I was unable to find any happy memories, not even early in my childhood. My ambiguous feelings toward her probably begin from infancy, when she bought me on the black market.

I had blocked out many portions of my childhood memories and later through therapy had unlocked many of those haunting visions.  Most were so terrifying that I did not ever want to go back there again.  Trauma will cause people to block memories and I certainly was in no hurry to unlock the remaining doors and let those wretched demon memories out to devour what I fought so hard to keep intact.... my sanity.

 From Chapter FIVE

The box would hold horrors and discipline for me.  The box was a large steamer trunk with a dome top.  It measured 35”x20”.  As I grew older and found it harder to fit comfortably in the box, I became claustrophobic and of course, apprehensive of clowns. I had to learn how to breathe deeply so I could control my anxiety. 

 From Chapter EIGHT

This ritual happened every month for a year.  It was amazing that as time went on I wasn't as scared.  Somehow, believing what my mother and the others said about someone putting protection around me, made me feel at peace.  Shortly after the first incident of this crazy ritual my father began to have night terrors.  He would wake up screaming and choking.  I remember the first time it happened, I ran out of my room to see what was happening, only to have my mother meet me in the hall and order me back to bed.  She whispered something to him as he got out of bed for a drink of water.  It happened twice that night and I didn’t get any sleep at all.  
 




All characters, places, and events are from the author’s perspective and memory and may not resemble the views of those portrayed.  Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.  The names chosen to represent living people are fictitious; and any similarity in real life or history to people living or dead possessing these names is completely unintentional and coincidental.

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