Just one day can completely change a person. I might have something yesterday and have it taken away from me today, believe one thing only to be completely changed next time. I've really struggled a lot in trying to make sense of this huge mess that comes with years of sexual abuse. I have run away from God, sat on a kitchen counter chugging a bottle of wine so I could fall asleep night after night, had meaningless sex to fill some void, smoked enough weed to knock out a gorilla, and so much more. No matter what I tried to do to further mess up my life while "trying to find help", I can look back and see now that God totally had his hand over me. It feels like he had a little protective bubble over me. Those nights when I was out on the town looking for just about anything to harm myself, I felt invisible and people left me alone. Even though I wanted to find harm, it stayed away from me and I know that God was the one who kept it away from me.
I know that all survivors of sexual abuse try to find some sort of meaning for what has happened to them. Most of us lash out at one point or maybe even forever, saying that there was no possible reason why something that horrible should happen. As I continue to look back and learn how to analyze more, I am finding even more reasons why this was allowed to happen to me for so long. I am by no means saying that any form of sexual abuse is good, so please do not read that into what I'm saying. What I am saying is that God can take the ugly and turn it into something used for His glory, but it starts with the gospel.
In a nutshell, the gospel, to me, started when man became helpless back in Genesis and then because God still loved such disobedient, awful children, he took on tremendous amounts of torment and did what we could never do, which was save us. This love takes away any pride we could have in ourselves because we weren't able to be good enough to be spared, and the fact that our salvation was a gift removes any rights we have to boast about our abilities... or lack thereof. Now in applying the gospel to my situation, it was hard for me to think that God really cared about sexual abuse victims, most likely because my father was the head of our home and a "godly" figurehead and he was the one who told me it was my fault. I started reading the book Rid of My Disgrace and it pointed out the fact that Christ knows what trauma is. Think closely about the death he suffered which we usually overlook. He was severely beaten, so there is the physical abuse. He was berated by the most vile, ungodly people, so there's the verbal abuse. He had nails driven through his flesh and he was hung up to be apart of a death that usually included water-filled lungs and an exploding heart from all the pressure. That's excruciating, isn't it? But the worst part is that he had to bear all of our sins and sufferings on his back, and that is by far a much heavier load. To top it all off, to make it infinitely worse, his very own father in heaven turned his back on Christ when Christ was bearing that load of sin. I know what it's like to have a father who blames you instead of being a father, and Christ knew what it was like for his Father to turn away from him during his greatest hour of need. So, he knows what abuse is, and he LOVED ME enough to take that abuse for my sake. I can look up to heaven and find my real Abba. The gospel has worked to soften my heart. It showed me I was incapable, but one who was greater than I am said it would be alright, because he would do it for me.
Looking back, and looking forward, there are things I can be thankful for. Looking back, I am thankful that even though no matter how many times I begged for it to stop, that my parents never found out. If my father had told me as a child that it was my fault for being assaulted, I would have been SO damaged and confused. Hearing that as an adult who knew she was better off sleeping in her car than living around her father made it easier because I knew now that he is not an invincible authority figure that I must blindly follow. Currently, I am thankful for the fact that this brokenness has made me lean on God after he brought me back because I have strength and a true, discerning, unconditional love in my Abba. In the future, I look forward to the possibility of this horrendous situation possibly breaking my father of his stubborn pride while I present the gospel message of saving love to him (through an email, of course). I also look forward to helping other sexual abuse victims on their road to recovery. While many circumstances in my life were quite evil, God still held out many other darker forces that could have utterly wiped me out.... "It could have been worse", or as I believe, knowing that God will use it for his purposes, allows me to look forward to a future that's not quite so dim.
I feel like that's enough.... 'nuff said. These are the ramblings of a scrambled brain being pieced together and learning to think again. Praise God for His goodness! I love Him as He continues to shower blessings on me, and I love him when I'm in the depths of despair because God is good no matter what.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Learning to Just... BE.
Does anyone else out there feel socially retarded every single day of their life? I feel like I should be wearing a helmet and eating crayons or something. I really love my church family - through them, I can see the hand of God doing tremendous things and they have all mirrored Christ's love in one way or another. If God had not seen fit to bring me to this church, I can't even imagine how horrible life would be right now. God has provided me with brothers and sisters in Christ who love me more than my own family ever did, but as humans do, I feel like I mess up the relationship so much. I'm still somewhat reclusive and recovering from that issue, so that definitely affects how I reach out to the other ladies in church who are all wonderful and a tremendous blessing. God has also provided me with godly brothers that I never had. Romans 12:5 says "So we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another." I have no idea how to interact with my brothers (sisters too sometimes) in Christ! I'm praying that God will help me find this balance which allows me to be comfortable because there are some great leaders in this church. I've always been used to men either being abusive, prideful, stubborn, control freaks with a god-complex, or just... being "boys." The Lord is providing me with all sorts of opportunities to learn and discover what it's meant to be like to have healthy fellowship with the body of believers but holy crud it's difficult!! Through everything, whether it's a small, silly problem or a big one, my God is doing a tremendous work in my heart and though there are days where I feel like the seed being thrown into shallow soil where I'll flourish for a little while then burn up, He's still there guiding.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Nightmares
It's really weird how our brains operate. Just about all the ladies in my group therapy class have said they've experienced some horrific, graphic nightmares at one point in their lives after they were victimized. In this instance, my brain somehow managed to combine my abuse with my ultimate betrayal in the form of my father.
Perhaps my subconscious took two matters which bother me constantly and somehow combined them. The fact that I was raped repeatedly on a daily basis is of course traumatizing me to this day. The fact that my father betrayed me by saying it was my fault just as much as it was my rapist's fault (my brother) was the ultimate form of betrayal to me. I suppose the Bible verse being quoted in the dream came into the picture because my dad says I need to "repent in sack cloth and ashes" because of my "deception" in keeping this secret. Nightmares are a "normal" part of this recovery process and perhaps a sign that some issues need to be dug up and dealt with... Now I'm dealing.
Perhaps my subconscious took two matters which bother me constantly and somehow combined them. The fact that I was raped repeatedly on a daily basis is of course traumatizing me to this day. The fact that my father betrayed me by saying it was my fault just as much as it was my rapist's fault (my brother) was the ultimate form of betrayal to me. I suppose the Bible verse being quoted in the dream came into the picture because my dad says I need to "repent in sack cloth and ashes" because of my "deception" in keeping this secret. Nightmares are a "normal" part of this recovery process and perhaps a sign that some issues need to be dug up and dealt with... Now I'm dealing.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
My Struggles, My RIGHTS.
I'm finding that the more I walk on this healing journey, the less denial I have about many things, and the more miserable I feel about them sometimes. I feel like I'm being born all over again, learning how to function, learning how to feel, learning how to think and reason for the first time. Doing all of this puts a strain on a healthy relationship because certain behaviors I used in order to endure those moments of daily torment have carried into today's way of thinking and doing. Dissociation, for example, is a huge burden that's plaguing me constantly. As survivors, just about all of us agree that we have have tried to mentally withdraw or "check out" from a situation so that our sanity could be kept in tact as much as possible, but it leaves us feeling disconnected from the rest of the world.
Recently I've come to terms with another time in which I was raped. I had this kickboxing coach who may have taught me some vital skills which saved my life, but at the same time, he hurt me tremendously. One night I was training at his house and he started making advances towards me. I told him repeatedly to leave me alone, but at the same time, I felt powerless to stop the situation. My dissociation had already begun, so as I lay there frozen, he did what he wanted, and I was left to feel something that was most certainly not the truth. I did not "connect the dots" which would have told me a truth which I know NOW to be true. He raped me, yet at that time, I thought I'd had sex with a man for the first time. The one time when we were driving back to town from a Muay Thai match in LA and he kept putting his hand on my leg (and which I slapped his hand and told him NO) made me think I was somehow at fault because I was in the car. Now as I look back with more strength and knowledge as a result of counseling, I see that after years of being helpless as a little girl, I did the same thing as an adult. Years of dissociation and denial had me frozen on that bed and in that car feeling like I didn't have the right to move or defend my honor.
While that is a rough example of what dissociation may do to a person, there are day-to-day ways in which we dissociate. Those years of checking out of a situation made it impossible at times to think through a situation, plan ahead, see something for what it really was, have a conversation, etc. Seemingly little things that everyone should be able to do as an adult, I could not do. Thankfully, the good Lord gave me a wonderful boyfriend who can see things for what they are and he has the ability to see where I am coming from. He brought up the fact that I always dissociated as a child up until now, so now it is hard for me to make decisions after following the steps involved in the thinking process. For example: we could be walking down the street and there could be a group of guys off to the side. My boyfriend will see a group of guys who are checking us out and making gestures towards us and he will either speed up or have us cross the street to the safety on the other side. Me on the other hand... all I see is a few guys over there, but I'm zoning in on the stop light ahead because everything else is a blur. My whole mentality has been that "If I don't see the pain or the danger around me, it will just pass me by or be over with soon enough, especially if I ignore it." We all know that's wrong, but that was my defense mechanism which worked as a child when I was defenselessly being raped every day. Essentially, I will see green pastures in the distance, but I ignore the flaming volcano between me and the green pastures, so I'll charge ahead through the fiery pathways until I get to the pasture where I can have my peace.
While all of that is really long and hopefully it makes sense, I'm realizing (and you should too!) that as a survivor of sexual abuse/assault, I have the rights to many things. I don't have to dissociate or feel powerless because my life used to be ruled by a monster. No one has the right to step on me, my life, my decisions, my spirit... we really can stand up and say NO or I NEED *THIS*. I found this little list and I really like it. God bless you all in this tough journey! Press on!
As a Matter of Personal AUTHORITY, You Have the Right ...
...to manage your life according to your own values and judgment
...to direct your recovery, answerable to no one for your goals, effort, or progress
...to gather information to make intelligent decisions about your recovery
...to seek help from a variety of sources, unhindered by demands for exclusivity
...to decline help from anyone without having to justify the decision
...to have faith in your powers of self restoration -- and to seek allies who share it
...to trust allies in healing as much as any adult can trust another, but no more
...to be afraid and to avoid what frightens you
...to decide for yourself whether, when, and where to confront your fear
...to learn by experimenting, that is, to make mistakes.
For the Preservation of Personal BOUNDARIES, You Have the Right ...
...to be touched only with your permission, and only in ways that are comfortable
...to choose to speak or remain silent, about any topic or at any moment
...to choose to accept or decline feedback, suggestions, or interpretations
...to ask for help in healing, without having to accept help with work, play, or love
...to challenge any crossing of your boundaries
...to take appropriate action to end any trespass that does not cease when challenged.
In the Sphere of Personal COMMUNICATION, You Have the Right ...
...to ask for explanation of communications you do not understand
...to express a contrary view when you do understand and you disagree
...to acknowledge your feelings, without having to justify them as assertions of fact or actions affecting others
...to ask for changes when your needs are not being met
...to speak of your experience, with respect for your doubts and uncertainties
...to resolve doubt without deferring to the views or wishes of anyone.
Recently I've come to terms with another time in which I was raped. I had this kickboxing coach who may have taught me some vital skills which saved my life, but at the same time, he hurt me tremendously. One night I was training at his house and he started making advances towards me. I told him repeatedly to leave me alone, but at the same time, I felt powerless to stop the situation. My dissociation had already begun, so as I lay there frozen, he did what he wanted, and I was left to feel something that was most certainly not the truth. I did not "connect the dots" which would have told me a truth which I know NOW to be true. He raped me, yet at that time, I thought I'd had sex with a man for the first time. The one time when we were driving back to town from a Muay Thai match in LA and he kept putting his hand on my leg (and which I slapped his hand and told him NO) made me think I was somehow at fault because I was in the car. Now as I look back with more strength and knowledge as a result of counseling, I see that after years of being helpless as a little girl, I did the same thing as an adult. Years of dissociation and denial had me frozen on that bed and in that car feeling like I didn't have the right to move or defend my honor.
While that is a rough example of what dissociation may do to a person, there are day-to-day ways in which we dissociate. Those years of checking out of a situation made it impossible at times to think through a situation, plan ahead, see something for what it really was, have a conversation, etc. Seemingly little things that everyone should be able to do as an adult, I could not do. Thankfully, the good Lord gave me a wonderful boyfriend who can see things for what they are and he has the ability to see where I am coming from. He brought up the fact that I always dissociated as a child up until now, so now it is hard for me to make decisions after following the steps involved in the thinking process. For example: we could be walking down the street and there could be a group of guys off to the side. My boyfriend will see a group of guys who are checking us out and making gestures towards us and he will either speed up or have us cross the street to the safety on the other side. Me on the other hand... all I see is a few guys over there, but I'm zoning in on the stop light ahead because everything else is a blur. My whole mentality has been that "If I don't see the pain or the danger around me, it will just pass me by or be over with soon enough, especially if I ignore it." We all know that's wrong, but that was my defense mechanism which worked as a child when I was defenselessly being raped every day. Essentially, I will see green pastures in the distance, but I ignore the flaming volcano between me and the green pastures, so I'll charge ahead through the fiery pathways until I get to the pasture where I can have my peace.
While all of that is really long and hopefully it makes sense, I'm realizing (and you should too!) that as a survivor of sexual abuse/assault, I have the rights to many things. I don't have to dissociate or feel powerless because my life used to be ruled by a monster. No one has the right to step on me, my life, my decisions, my spirit... we really can stand up and say NO or I NEED *THIS*. I found this little list and I really like it. God bless you all in this tough journey! Press on!
As a Matter of Personal AUTHORITY, You Have the Right ...
...to manage your life according to your own values and judgment
...to direct your recovery, answerable to no one for your goals, effort, or progress
...to gather information to make intelligent decisions about your recovery
...to seek help from a variety of sources, unhindered by demands for exclusivity
...to decline help from anyone without having to justify the decision
...to have faith in your powers of self restoration -- and to seek allies who share it
...to trust allies in healing as much as any adult can trust another, but no more
...to be afraid and to avoid what frightens you
...to decide for yourself whether, when, and where to confront your fear
...to learn by experimenting, that is, to make mistakes.
For the Preservation of Personal BOUNDARIES, You Have the Right ...
...to be touched only with your permission, and only in ways that are comfortable
...to choose to speak or remain silent, about any topic or at any moment
...to choose to accept or decline feedback, suggestions, or interpretations
...to ask for help in healing, without having to accept help with work, play, or love
...to challenge any crossing of your boundaries
...to take appropriate action to end any trespass that does not cease when challenged.
In the Sphere of Personal COMMUNICATION, You Have the Right ...
...to ask for explanation of communications you do not understand
...to express a contrary view when you do understand and you disagree
...to acknowledge your feelings, without having to justify them as assertions of fact or actions affecting others
...to ask for changes when your needs are not being met
...to speak of your experience, with respect for your doubts and uncertainties
...to resolve doubt without deferring to the views or wishes of anyone.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
My Story
I'm writing this for two reasons. One is in hopes of being able to reach someone - someone who may be hurting.
The other is because I have been "stuck", unable to heal all these years. I am tired of feeling this way. I have a counselor, I attend group therapy, my boyfriend is loving and ALWAYS there for me, and I am DETERMINED to move past this pain. Just talking about it allows me to know it was real and it also gives me a sense of control/strength in that I am able to talk about it now. If there is anyone who would like to talk - about ANYTHING - please don't hesitate to message me. I am open to any questions, as well.
God Bless you all in this journey.
When I was a little girl, no older than 9 or 10, I was molested by my brother. I was so little I didn't know what all the touching meant; all I knew at that time was it was something we didn't talk about. I have a hard time remembering so many details because I have tried to bury and deny it for years, but it hurts more when you do that so I won't do it any more. I remember he used to make me suck his penis and he used to ejaculate all over my stomach. The smell of sperm terrifies me to this day but for some reason God gave me a poor sense of smell now, so that helps. Eventually he got tired of molestation and he decided it was time for penetration. That was something I always was frightened of, naturally so. He manipulated me, gave little threats, and was very persistent until I was like most sexual abuse victims - hopeless and helpless.
I remember quite vividly the first time he raped me. It was a hot summer day, we had a sprinkler put under the trampoline in the backyard. He sneaked a bottle of Vaseline into the backyard, told me to stand up against the rail of the trampoline, and I watched as he stood in front of me and took a gob of Vaseline and smeared it over his thick penis. He told me to move my bathing suit aside, he placed it right where the opening was, held it there for an instant, and then he thrust as fast and as hard as he could. I lurched forward in so much pain I couldn't scream even though my mouth was wide open. I remember feeling the crunch as my hymen ruptured, and my senses were so heightened out of terror that a certain type of crunching noise is now my current flashback. I remember smelling the wet grass while the hot Bakersfield sun beat down on it, birds chirping. I felt like my life had ended on that day, and I knew at that moment I would be very miserable for a very long time. He thrust in and out a couple times, he asked me if it hurt and I said it did. So he pulled it out, said, "That's good enough for now" and I started walking inside. My mom was in the kitchen, and I walked past her without notice. My dad was in the living room, I walked past him without notice. I went to the bathroom, took off my bathing suit, and tried to pee but it burned so bad and there was blood. I didn't cry because if I cried, my parents would know what was happening and then I would be in trouble. My brother would hurt me and it would somehow be my fault that this was all happening. The next few days, my crotch hurt and burned, but I carried on like any "normal" kid would do and none of my little friends had a clue that my world was shattering. Soon I didn't have any friends because I was slowly dying inside, I was angry, and I couldn't show it to anyone.
I don't remember the next time he did it, or the time after that... only certain events that were more traumatic than others. It would happen every single day except Sundays (in most cases) because the whole family was home and he just wasn't that sneaky. Dad would leave for work on his motorcycle and mom would climb in the shower, and I remember she was always in that bedroom for 30 minutes each morning almost like clockwork. That's when the terror would come out and that is what I endured.
Eventually vaginal penetration wasn't good enough for my brother, though. He had heard from one of his friends about anal sex, how it felt much better because it was tighter. So he came home with that news to experiment. My parents had these rubber gloves that my brother stole and he placed one over his penis, more gobs of Vaseline, and he got ready to sodomize me. I remember lying there on my stomach, on the floor, next to his closet, my eyes clenched shut, my butt cheeks clenched together, and I don't know why he just stood over me, but it took what seemed like hours. As soon as I stopped tightening my cheeks because they were too tired to tighten any more, he was on top of me, he put his penis right by the hole, and once again, thrust... Only this time a little slower but that didn't help. I had never felt such pain in my life. Every time I pooped for about a week, there was blood and pain and tears that were miraculously held back.
I don't know why exactly it stopped, but it stopped when I was around 13 or 14. I thank God that I did not get pregnant and that he allowed me to start my period much later than most girls. I have flashbacks every single day, little red Toyota trucks make me nervous, licking sounds (from animals) enrage and terrify me and if they don't stop soon, I get very close to tearing up any room I am in Tasmanian Devil style. The smell of sperm freaks me out. I want to punch anyone who stands behind me, walks behind me, and grabs me from behind or at all. Being around men makes me nervous. I cannot visit the side of town my parents' house is on without almost rocking back and forth and hiding behind my hair. I have triggers all over the place and there are many things I cannot do now, and I usually find it difficult to just talk to people since my mind is elsewhere trying to find relief.
That was what I went through as a child, now this is what I faced a little more recently. When I moved out of my parents' house, it was because my relationship with my father had deteriorated to such a level that he had a mental breakdown, almost shoved me out of his way, then screamed at me to get out. I had started spending long hours in my room, reading dozens of books, and dissociating without knowing that my childhood abuse was the reason why I was depressed and why it was so hard to function. I didn't even know I was depressed. I drove to San Luis Obispo, slept on a bench for a bit, drove around, walked around, but I felt like a ghost. A few days later my dad said to move back in, but I said no. Hell no. I stayed at a friend's house for a while and that's where I met my current boyfriend - he was the drummer in their band. I was struck by him not just for his golden brown eyes and cute curly hair, but because he was one of the kindest, wisest people I had ever met, not to mention he was a huge goofball and I loved it. I was going to go in the military, but thankfully my aunt talked me out of it and told me to move down to Thousand Oaks. So plans changed, my boyfriend and I had just started dating when we found out that I would be moving down south a week later. He would take the bus down to Ventura usually on weekends or I would drive back to Bakersfield and see him when I got lonely until he eventually moved down to Ventura.
While I was living with my aunt, the big house creeped me out at night. I dispersed weapons all throughout my room. A bow and arrow set from Indonesia was spread in all four corners of the room, a punch knife was on the floor on the side of the bed I slept on, and a pocket knife was on my night stand. Eventually I couldn't sleep well, I woke up screaming once. My aunt had no idea what had happened to me as a child and she had no idea why, but I moved in with my boyfriend because he knew what had happened. When I was sleeping next to him, I could finally sleep without feeling scared.
Eventually I talked to my dad a little through email and it came out what had happened. I told my parents that I would send them an email about what had happened to me, but I prepared them for it saying "it's going to be really ugly and it will hurt you a lot, so brace yourselves." I got a call from my brother while I was at work. He wanted to know if he could delete the email then tell my parents himself about what he had done, but I said no, he can tell them what happened and they could read my email. One of the first things he said was, "Wow... This is going to ruin my engineering career." My parents were really sympathetic at first. Eventually my dad told me that it was partially my fault because I did not tell them sooner.
Then it got worse. Just recently, my father sent this venomous email basically saying that I was an accomplice in my rape because I did not tell my parents what was going on. He said "I could understand if it had happened once, twice is stretching it. But you let it go on for years without telling us, so that is why you are just as much at fault as your brother." Now I am an accomplice. Great. I've come to realize my father is a frighteningly prideful stubborn man. All of my life whenever there was a chance he was wrong, he was too stubborn and too prideful to think it through and apologize, so he would turn the blame around on his family so that a lot of things were our fault. I could give some examples but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that what should have been my strongest support system turned out to be the one that hurt me the most. My mother blindly follows his lead, and even though my dad is quite the convincing authority figure, she should know better. My father is plain stupid. After all his years as a police officer, I am certain that while he was arresting a man, he never told the man's daughter that it was her fault for being raped simply because she didn't call the cops. The man will not use logic to come to a conclusion if it is a painful one. I have struggled with so much bitter hatred for the man and realize I have never loved him as my father.
That story is fairly easy to get through at this moment, but all the other details and horror stories in the middle of these main events all build up and make my life different. I'm working on trying not to be a recluse in my home, and while it's hard for me to talk to people at school (I just started going again), I still make myself do it when I can. Sexual abuse victims all share a common bond, and it feels good to go to group therapy and talk with a bunch of ladies who don't judge me for how I behave and they don't make assumptions. They know.
Living in denial of something so huge is much more painful over the years than allowing the pain to rise to the surface so it can be dealt with. If you have been a victim of sexual abuse or any kind of abuse, FIND HELP NOW. You don't have to talk about it until you are ready to, but just going to a place that will help you is a huge first step that will change your life for the better. Remember you are beautiful, your soul is a treasure beyond all treasures, there are those who love you and will support you, you can love and be loved in return, and there IS hope. We survived something that huge, so that means you're a strong person already. If you haven't found help yet, I strongly encourage you to do this, and I even pray for you even though I don't know your name. Send me a message if you need help getting started - I would love to talk to every single one of you.
The other is because I have been "stuck", unable to heal all these years. I am tired of feeling this way. I have a counselor, I attend group therapy, my boyfriend is loving and ALWAYS there for me, and I am DETERMINED to move past this pain. Just talking about it allows me to know it was real and it also gives me a sense of control/strength in that I am able to talk about it now. If there is anyone who would like to talk - about ANYTHING - please don't hesitate to message me. I am open to any questions, as well.
God Bless you all in this journey.
When I was a little girl, no older than 9 or 10, I was molested by my brother. I was so little I didn't know what all the touching meant; all I knew at that time was it was something we didn't talk about. I have a hard time remembering so many details because I have tried to bury and deny it for years, but it hurts more when you do that so I won't do it any more. I remember he used to make me suck his penis and he used to ejaculate all over my stomach. The smell of sperm terrifies me to this day but for some reason God gave me a poor sense of smell now, so that helps. Eventually he got tired of molestation and he decided it was time for penetration. That was something I always was frightened of, naturally so. He manipulated me, gave little threats, and was very persistent until I was like most sexual abuse victims - hopeless and helpless.
I remember quite vividly the first time he raped me. It was a hot summer day, we had a sprinkler put under the trampoline in the backyard. He sneaked a bottle of Vaseline into the backyard, told me to stand up against the rail of the trampoline, and I watched as he stood in front of me and took a gob of Vaseline and smeared it over his thick penis. He told me to move my bathing suit aside, he placed it right where the opening was, held it there for an instant, and then he thrust as fast and as hard as he could. I lurched forward in so much pain I couldn't scream even though my mouth was wide open. I remember feeling the crunch as my hymen ruptured, and my senses were so heightened out of terror that a certain type of crunching noise is now my current flashback. I remember smelling the wet grass while the hot Bakersfield sun beat down on it, birds chirping. I felt like my life had ended on that day, and I knew at that moment I would be very miserable for a very long time. He thrust in and out a couple times, he asked me if it hurt and I said it did. So he pulled it out, said, "That's good enough for now" and I started walking inside. My mom was in the kitchen, and I walked past her without notice. My dad was in the living room, I walked past him without notice. I went to the bathroom, took off my bathing suit, and tried to pee but it burned so bad and there was blood. I didn't cry because if I cried, my parents would know what was happening and then I would be in trouble. My brother would hurt me and it would somehow be my fault that this was all happening. The next few days, my crotch hurt and burned, but I carried on like any "normal" kid would do and none of my little friends had a clue that my world was shattering. Soon I didn't have any friends because I was slowly dying inside, I was angry, and I couldn't show it to anyone.
I don't remember the next time he did it, or the time after that... only certain events that were more traumatic than others. It would happen every single day except Sundays (in most cases) because the whole family was home and he just wasn't that sneaky. Dad would leave for work on his motorcycle and mom would climb in the shower, and I remember she was always in that bedroom for 30 minutes each morning almost like clockwork. That's when the terror would come out and that is what I endured.
Eventually vaginal penetration wasn't good enough for my brother, though. He had heard from one of his friends about anal sex, how it felt much better because it was tighter. So he came home with that news to experiment. My parents had these rubber gloves that my brother stole and he placed one over his penis, more gobs of Vaseline, and he got ready to sodomize me. I remember lying there on my stomach, on the floor, next to his closet, my eyes clenched shut, my butt cheeks clenched together, and I don't know why he just stood over me, but it took what seemed like hours. As soon as I stopped tightening my cheeks because they were too tired to tighten any more, he was on top of me, he put his penis right by the hole, and once again, thrust... Only this time a little slower but that didn't help. I had never felt such pain in my life. Every time I pooped for about a week, there was blood and pain and tears that were miraculously held back.
I don't know why exactly it stopped, but it stopped when I was around 13 or 14. I thank God that I did not get pregnant and that he allowed me to start my period much later than most girls. I have flashbacks every single day, little red Toyota trucks make me nervous, licking sounds (from animals) enrage and terrify me and if they don't stop soon, I get very close to tearing up any room I am in Tasmanian Devil style. The smell of sperm freaks me out. I want to punch anyone who stands behind me, walks behind me, and grabs me from behind or at all. Being around men makes me nervous. I cannot visit the side of town my parents' house is on without almost rocking back and forth and hiding behind my hair. I have triggers all over the place and there are many things I cannot do now, and I usually find it difficult to just talk to people since my mind is elsewhere trying to find relief.
That was what I went through as a child, now this is what I faced a little more recently. When I moved out of my parents' house, it was because my relationship with my father had deteriorated to such a level that he had a mental breakdown, almost shoved me out of his way, then screamed at me to get out. I had started spending long hours in my room, reading dozens of books, and dissociating without knowing that my childhood abuse was the reason why I was depressed and why it was so hard to function. I didn't even know I was depressed. I drove to San Luis Obispo, slept on a bench for a bit, drove around, walked around, but I felt like a ghost. A few days later my dad said to move back in, but I said no. Hell no. I stayed at a friend's house for a while and that's where I met my current boyfriend - he was the drummer in their band. I was struck by him not just for his golden brown eyes and cute curly hair, but because he was one of the kindest, wisest people I had ever met, not to mention he was a huge goofball and I loved it. I was going to go in the military, but thankfully my aunt talked me out of it and told me to move down to Thousand Oaks. So plans changed, my boyfriend and I had just started dating when we found out that I would be moving down south a week later. He would take the bus down to Ventura usually on weekends or I would drive back to Bakersfield and see him when I got lonely until he eventually moved down to Ventura.
While I was living with my aunt, the big house creeped me out at night. I dispersed weapons all throughout my room. A bow and arrow set from Indonesia was spread in all four corners of the room, a punch knife was on the floor on the side of the bed I slept on, and a pocket knife was on my night stand. Eventually I couldn't sleep well, I woke up screaming once. My aunt had no idea what had happened to me as a child and she had no idea why, but I moved in with my boyfriend because he knew what had happened. When I was sleeping next to him, I could finally sleep without feeling scared.
Eventually I talked to my dad a little through email and it came out what had happened. I told my parents that I would send them an email about what had happened to me, but I prepared them for it saying "it's going to be really ugly and it will hurt you a lot, so brace yourselves." I got a call from my brother while I was at work. He wanted to know if he could delete the email then tell my parents himself about what he had done, but I said no, he can tell them what happened and they could read my email. One of the first things he said was, "Wow... This is going to ruin my engineering career." My parents were really sympathetic at first. Eventually my dad told me that it was partially my fault because I did not tell them sooner.
Then it got worse. Just recently, my father sent this venomous email basically saying that I was an accomplice in my rape because I did not tell my parents what was going on. He said "I could understand if it had happened once, twice is stretching it. But you let it go on for years without telling us, so that is why you are just as much at fault as your brother." Now I am an accomplice. Great. I've come to realize my father is a frighteningly prideful stubborn man. All of my life whenever there was a chance he was wrong, he was too stubborn and too prideful to think it through and apologize, so he would turn the blame around on his family so that a lot of things were our fault. I could give some examples but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that what should have been my strongest support system turned out to be the one that hurt me the most. My mother blindly follows his lead, and even though my dad is quite the convincing authority figure, she should know better. My father is plain stupid. After all his years as a police officer, I am certain that while he was arresting a man, he never told the man's daughter that it was her fault for being raped simply because she didn't call the cops. The man will not use logic to come to a conclusion if it is a painful one. I have struggled with so much bitter hatred for the man and realize I have never loved him as my father.
That story is fairly easy to get through at this moment, but all the other details and horror stories in the middle of these main events all build up and make my life different. I'm working on trying not to be a recluse in my home, and while it's hard for me to talk to people at school (I just started going again), I still make myself do it when I can. Sexual abuse victims all share a common bond, and it feels good to go to group therapy and talk with a bunch of ladies who don't judge me for how I behave and they don't make assumptions. They know.
Living in denial of something so huge is much more painful over the years than allowing the pain to rise to the surface so it can be dealt with. If you have been a victim of sexual abuse or any kind of abuse, FIND HELP NOW. You don't have to talk about it until you are ready to, but just going to a place that will help you is a huge first step that will change your life for the better. Remember you are beautiful, your soul is a treasure beyond all treasures, there are those who love you and will support you, you can love and be loved in return, and there IS hope. We survived something that huge, so that means you're a strong person already. If you haven't found help yet, I strongly encourage you to do this, and I even pray for you even though I don't know your name. Send me a message if you need help getting started - I would love to talk to every single one of you.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Survivor's Sanity List
In my sexual abuse therapy course, we went over this list one by one and a lot of it brought tears to my eyes. Hopefully this will help someone else too :)
If you are healing from sexual assault and you get out of bed in the morning, you are doing well.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you hold down a job, you are amazing!
If you are healing from sexual assault and you are still remotely pleasant to others YOU ARE A LOT NICER THAN ME.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you cannot always be there for a friend, you are still a good friend and a strong enough person to know what is best for you.
If you are healing from sexual assault and find it difficult to care for yourself, but still find the strength to care and love your family, then you are strong as well.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you decide to tell your story, you are brave.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you decide that you are not ready to tell your story, you are also brave.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you cry daily or have nightmares, you are normal.
If you are healing from sexual assault and seeing happy, healthy people makes you sad, angry, jealous and worse, join the club.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you decide to press charges against your perpetrator, you have incredible courage.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you cannot or choose not to press charges against your perpetrator, your perpetrator is still the one to blame, and you are smart for knowing what you can handle.
If you are healing from sexual assault and think that what happened was your fault, you are WRONG, but you are NOT ALONE.
If you are healing from sexual assault and are jealous that some survivors put their abuser in jail, you are one of many.
If you are healing from sexual assault and feel like your significant other truly understands and is 100% supportive, he/she is rare and a keeper.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you have a good support system, it will help A LOT.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you don't have enough people who understand what you are going through, I strongly recommend joining a support group.
If you are healing from sexual assault and were not believed or supported when you found the courage to tell, you still deserve to be heard, no matter how long ago it was.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you feel like you hate your body, remember your spirit is held within your body.
If you are healing from sexual assault and feel painfully alone and isolated, please know that there are thousands of people healing with you in spirit.
If you are healing from sexual assault and there are days where the only thing you are able to do is exist, remember, we are existing with you 'til you can live again.
If you are healing from sexual assault but still looking to the future, you are a survivor.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you get out of bed in the morning, you are doing well.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you hold down a job, you are amazing!
If you are healing from sexual assault and you are still remotely pleasant to others YOU ARE A LOT NICER THAN ME.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you cannot always be there for a friend, you are still a good friend and a strong enough person to know what is best for you.
If you are healing from sexual assault and find it difficult to care for yourself, but still find the strength to care and love your family, then you are strong as well.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you decide to tell your story, you are brave.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you decide that you are not ready to tell your story, you are also brave.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you cry daily or have nightmares, you are normal.
If you are healing from sexual assault and seeing happy, healthy people makes you sad, angry, jealous and worse, join the club.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you decide to press charges against your perpetrator, you have incredible courage.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you cannot or choose not to press charges against your perpetrator, your perpetrator is still the one to blame, and you are smart for knowing what you can handle.
If you are healing from sexual assault and think that what happened was your fault, you are WRONG, but you are NOT ALONE.
If you are healing from sexual assault and are jealous that some survivors put their abuser in jail, you are one of many.
If you are healing from sexual assault and feel like your significant other truly understands and is 100% supportive, he/she is rare and a keeper.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you have a good support system, it will help A LOT.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you don't have enough people who understand what you are going through, I strongly recommend joining a support group.
If you are healing from sexual assault and were not believed or supported when you found the courage to tell, you still deserve to be heard, no matter how long ago it was.
If you are healing from sexual assault and you feel like you hate your body, remember your spirit is held within your body.
If you are healing from sexual assault and feel painfully alone and isolated, please know that there are thousands of people healing with you in spirit.
If you are healing from sexual assault and there are days where the only thing you are able to do is exist, remember, we are existing with you 'til you can live again.
If you are healing from sexual assault but still looking to the future, you are a survivor.
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