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Archive for the ‘Sexual Abuse’ Category

I’ve decided I’m not going to give my dad a Father’s Day gift this year and nor am I going to give him a birthday present a few weeks later.

This will be the first time I have ever done this. I won’t be making the phone call and I won’t be acknowledging the two events to him in any way, shape or form.

Why? Because giving a gift to my abuser is like handing a bunch of flowers to someone who just beat the crap out of me.

I am allowed to be angry at the events in my childhood. They should not have occurred. I entrusted my parents to take care of me, to do what’s best for me and they failed me on many levels

There are still many unexplained events in my past. My journey through sexual abuse is still evolving.

I am not ready to see my dad for all the good things he’s done in my life. I’m not ready to separate the man from the abuse and let the past go.

My non compliance with the norm will likely cause an uproar or turmoil for my family of origin – all of them – my dad, mother and two sisters will be aghast. I will become the “bad one”.  My sisters will endure (and take part in) the tirade of remarks about what an ungrateful daughter I am – “of all the things we’ve done for her” etc.

My closest sister is already emotionally detaching from me and there’s nothing I can do about that.

The abuser will slowly chip away at my character , placing ideas in my family’s heads that I am mad, crazy and an ungrateful child. The abuser will slowly but surely turn me into the perpetrator and turn my family against me.

It is important to see it for what it is. This is the nature of the disease of sexual addiction and what sexual abusers do.

I might lose everyone who I grew up with but I must not lose myself and my truth.

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I have spent much of my life disconnected from things.

What does that mean? It means feeling numb, without emotion, without opinion, the absence of enjoyment, not really knowing who I am and not feeling connected to my body, needs, wants and desires.

A bit like a living zombie!

I have actually had a few moments where I have felt connected and free. Earlier this year when I made the big decision not to join my family of origin for Christmas Day was one of them. It was my way of standing up and saying that I was no longer going to continue to play the game of denial. I was no longer going to sweep the family secrets under the rug.

My decision saw my connection to self and wonderful carefree feeling last for some weeks but I was subsequently shut down again after an argument that reminded me of abusive treatment in my past. I retreated back into my safe hole.

I’m finding myself curious about feeling like “me” again and I want to experience it more but I do not know how to switch myself back on again.

Perhaps it is something I need to give myself permission to do or perhaps there is another phase in my healing that needs to unravel, I’m not so sure.

I do know that I want to experience more of it. I deserve to experience more of it rather than stay trapped by the abusive experiences of my past.

I no longer want to be a living zombie.

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“If your child tells you he or she has been abused, believe it.

If you suspect that your partner, that person who abused you, other family members, or your child’s caretakers are being abusive, take action immediately.

Countless women have been sure they were the only ones to be abused, only to find out years later that their own children, grandchildren or even great grandchildren had become victims as well.”

From The Courage to Heal by Ellen Bass & Laura Davis.

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I’m so tired, you know what I mean?

The brain says “push yourself” or “stop being so lazy” but the body says “rest” and “take a break”.

The brain is very often not satisfied with the extent of work the body has put in for the day. It says “you didn’t get to clean the toilet” or “you didn’t vacuum the house, what a disgrace” and “it was a good day today BUT you didn’t get to wash the dishes”.

See, my brain is often set on “critical parent mode”. What I do will never be good enough for my (critical) parent.

Fighting the critical parent is very tiring. It is like having a mini war inside my head.

Taking time out for myself by just doing nothing is a big “no no” for the critical parent. I am “wasting time” and “my life is slipping away” and my all time favourite “you’ll never get anywhere in life”.

Fighting the critical parent is not the only war going on inside my head either. There is “what is he REALLY doing today” and “who is he REALLY with” and “you’re going to have a busy day at work tomorrow” and “oh, it’s Monday tomorrow, what a drag”. There’s also “you’ll never get through this sexual abuse stuff” and “your family are talking behind your back” and “you’ll never get off this medication”.

With all this brain activity, is it any wonder we get so tired? Find it hard to get out of bed? Can’t pick up the vacuum cleaner or just plain don’t want to go out?

If you know what I’m talking about then lets join forces and cut ourselves some slack.

We have all been through and are going through a lot.  It’s time to show ourselves some compassion and understanding. Wouldn’t we say the same for someone else in our situation? Hell yeah.

Today it is OK to give ourselves permission to do nothing. We are not going to wilt away and die, we are not going to lose that big opportunity and we are not going to eventuate into nothing if we just take a break.

There is a high probability that when I am on my death bed one day I won’t be scolding myself for not vacuuming the house – I’ll be scolding myself for not doing all the things I wanted to accomplish in my life!

Let us comfort our inner child and tell them that a break is OK, they are allowed to rest.

Our inner child is worth it, they ARE important, they ARE precious, they ARE loved.

The guilt of our critical parent will break us if we allow it to.

Today I will do what my inner child wants to do, I will not do any chores.

I will bake, watch some TV and pat my dogs.

The only person that can tell me I’m not allowed is ME.

Watch out for that….

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I’ve seen it today, I understand now. There’s a repetition in my life – there are many of them.

I spend endless hours chattering away to my dogs, like they can understand me. It fills the hole in my soul – temporarily.

Nobody heard me as a child. As a four year old I told my mum what dad was doing to me but dad exploded and that was the end of that. I was branded a liar, a trouble maker and my mum unconsciously punished me until I left home at 29 years of age. Yes, I understand that to be part of her process, her denial, but it hasn’t helped me one bit.

Now I spend many a wasted hour trying to get heard by people who don’t understand what it’s all about. A pointless, fruitless exercise.

My counsellor can hear me, she can validate me. She can give me a safe place to share, a place where I can begin to contemplate what happened to me and speak my truth.

Slowly slowly my inner child will get heard and my repetitive need for someone to hear my voice will dissipate.

Many people just don’t understand the full ramifications of child sexual abuse. There, I’ve said it – sexual abuse. That’s what it was and that’s what it will always be. Nothing anybody says will make it not so, for my inner child knows the truth. She carries the secret deep within and for now she gives me snippets of details. One day she will be fearless enough to tell me exactly what happened – but only when I’m ready to hear it.

Thanks for listening, I appreciate it like you’ll never know.

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Hiding from me what you do on your computer late at night continues to reinforce the message I received in childhood that I am not safe, things are not as they seem and what I want is of no consequence.

My grief is so deep. I am dirt to you.

You continue to over power me,  to control and win regardless of what I ask of you.

As long as my environment is not safe I will continue to recoil in fear.

I am an adult trapped in childhood trauma and I trust no-one but myself.

Nobody understands…..

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I know you are there;

I search deep within my soul;

To find another clue;

A smell, a piece of clothing, surroundings;

Anything to take me one step further to your face;

My eyes bore into nothingness;

Trying hard to draw a memory from my subconscious;

But I cannot;

Is it true that trauma has stopped me from remembering you, them or it?;

Or am I just clawing at something that is not there?;

It makes sense that you abused me as a child;

My behaviour today reflects the truth;

But my eyes and heart won’t let me see;

God, show me who you are and what you did;

So I can set myself free;

And heal my inner child.

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