Hi Everyone,
I found this site about a year ago and just bawled as I read Dr. Grossman's articles and words. It was my experience almost to a T. I think for the first time I felt heard and understood. I came back from time to time and found relief and now found this forum. I had to write my truth, maybe for the first time for real. I have sugar coated much of it, because of the deep, deep shame of who I am.
I am 39 year old woman. I was sexually abused by my father on a regular basis as a young young child. I didn't speak for years. I had decided with my little mind that it was best to just disappear and be as benign as I could to avoid being abused, gotten angry at, or hurt. So I shut up and shut down, although, I stayed very awake allllll the time, so as to be as concious as I could to prepare myself for when the abuse happened, I thought that knowing it was coming would help me survive.
I really do not know why I wanted to survive. I do remember... after one bad abuse, I remember more clearly than any event in my life, I ly on the floor badly hurt, I could have left, I really could have died if I wanted, but something told me to live. Well, I decided I would live, that I would wait it out, when I was old enough, I would leave and it would be over. I also promised myself and God to dim my light. Because I thought it was my light, my purity that pissed my dad off and maybe even God off, that made him so angry he had to abuse me. So I promised as a little girl to dim my light and be as benign as I could. And that is what I did.
My day consisted of predicting when the abuse was going to come, avoiding any and all behavior that I thought would promote it and that is about it.
I remember being on the school playground watching the other children play and act "foolish" I thought they were so foolish to be so free and unaware. Most of my life I judged people for being seemingly foolish and not be aware. I did not know they had no reason to be hyper concious every second.
At the same time as I grew up I would be in situations where the other children were laughing and playing and I did not know how to do that. I felt like a foreigner, a weirdo, I would try to plan out what to play and what to say, because I did not know what I felt and what I thought, besides that I was scared. That I did know. Actually that was me, all of me, scared. Scared every minute of every day. Not a minute of peace. NOT A MINUTE OF PEACE. No aunt, no grandmother, no one to tell, no one to talk to. No one was interested. That is so sad, so sad. I couldnt talk about how scared I was, so I couldn't be me.
I felt isolated and cut off. My parents hated me. My siblings hated me. Everyone did not want me around. That is how I felt. Dirt. There were other little abused children around and we would cross paths and feel some recognition comfort for a minute or two, but I would run, too close to home, the shame too great, THAT is not me. So there we were, isolated again.
I cut my parents out of my life 12 years ago, went through different therapists and programs for the last 18 years, they all helped a good amount and got me through to a homeostasis of surviving again. Maybe even some touching moments and love here and there. But nothing forever, NOTHING to count on or lean on. Nooooo, who wanted that with me. NO ONE. I leaned on no one. I told no one. I healed the sexual abuse issues for the most part. Little did I realize the way more damaging, and way more scary issue is that I dont know who I am.
I have never been married, so sad, and have moved all over the united states by myself. In and out of friendships and relationships one after the other, realizing that they were not really a good friend, that when it came down to it they were only interested in themselves. Never getting my needs met. Looking for that ONE person who will save me and meet my needs.
I have always known that it was wrong or it wasnt possible for that to work, but that didnt stop me, it was the only hope I had, because I had no one inside, I did not and still am distant from who I am really am. I never had a chance, gave my self a chance, a place, to come out.
Sure, halfway or temporarily here and there. Someone and people who welcomed me, the real me, and wanted me, the real me. It didnt happen. I now have a dear friend Rachel, who truly cares about me. Maybe for the first time I have allowed a true friend who cares about me, all of me. I have had therapists who cared, but I would leave before we got too close and near that empty void.
I am now back in therapy, and I think I am finally ready to handle and find the real me, I mustered up just enough self love and strength to go in there. And be forgiving enough of all my shame and self-judgement and self-hate. I think I can really do it this time. That is relief and peace, I am scared. My child is so lost and alone, I can feel she is relieved I am going to heal her and listen to her instead of running out there one more time to find that man that will save her and me. I had no idea I was running in a circle and pretending for so long.
Only in the last few days, after another failing relationship with a self absorbed person, am I forcing myself to focus on the real problem, finding me, feeling the absolute void and fear that I have been running from most of my life.
I have a great male therapist here that I have used before, and I am hopeful he can help me go deeper and heal this last part of my voice, living for me for the first time.
He has a group that I will go to also. I am just so relieved, I think the circus is over. I think the lies and the running is over. There will be peace at last, because I am going to find me. I will not give up this time. I will not avoid this time. I deserve it, at 39 I deserve that peace and even some self-love, love and appreciation of myself.
I guess we are never really done. But now it is time and little did I know the worst abuse I suffered was losing my voice. Actually losing me. Or never really finding me. THAT is the real shame, and the worst abuse my parents took from me. Over and over and over again, shutting ME down. Shutting me up and shaming me. I am going to gently and consistently love that child, that adolescent, that young adult me. I know I wont do it perfectly, but I will do the best I can to love them, and my therapist will help me. I will give my self a chance a real chance maybe for the first time.
GOSH! What a relief to be here, to be writing this. The chase is over. I am going to love me, the real me. What a relief.
Well, thank you for listening. I am sure alot of you, if not all of you, here. Can completely relate because I have related so much to what you have written. Thank you.
with Love,
Marieblue3
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