Let me tell you a story…


This story was rattling around my head a few days ago and I’d like to tell it because…well I want to. To me it’s a prime example of how dysfunctional things around me were.

We were at religious services, and that’s a really important part of this story for reasons that will become clear.

We had picked up a older gentleman my parents knew to give him a ride and he sat with us. I dress appropriately at religious services out of respect for why I’m there…knee length or longer skirts or dresses, no low-cut tops etc. And yes I have a reason for saying this. During the service I crossed my legs in my modest outfit. The man was sitting next to me and he was shifting in his seat. My mother (who was sitting on my other side so she couldn’t see anything) then proceeded to lean over and tell me to stop crossing my legs because I was giving the man an erection.

Yep, that happened.

I remember that I froze in absolute horror and I’m pretty sure that I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my life. I became so still, I don’t think I moved for the next hour. I barely breathed because I was so horrified.

I don’t know why I wanted to tell this story but there it is. Maybe it’s because I think my mother is disgusting or maybe it’s because I wonder why, as an adult I get obsessed about my ability to give random men erections. I’ve written about that before…the way that I will see a man and wonder if I can arouse him. It bothers me. I don’t know if it started during this instance or not but it’s something that I don’t understand.

Well now that I’ve made everyone uncomfortable…

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Contemplation


Contemplation

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Head For The Hills!!!


I think that this is what my head has done.

To start my last therapy session I told my therapist that I felt a need to have a “serious” discussion but I didn’t know how to start it or what to say. I had been reading the book I’ve been referring to and continuing to take hard looks at my psyche and questioning myself.

One part of the chapter about memory brought up the idea of a person creating a narrative in order to please a therapist who has suggested that abuse happened. I brought this concept up her and her response made me laugh. She said, “Well you’ve done a terrible job of that then haven’t you? You have no details and no story. You have the same two images repeating over and over and that’s it.”

Well…yea I admit I haven’t “come up” with much if I was trying subconsciously to please her but I think I needed to throw out another obstacle for myself. She also brought up her history with me of going on 12 years of being my therapist.

We got the serious part of the conversation in which I talked about my inability to believe that the flashes I see and their accompanying emotions are actually based in reality. I was having a hard time because I was feeling fear every time a flash happened. The images aren’t threatening in themselves; just a room and a narrow hallway. When I see them I automatically associate it with  my uncle for some reason.

I feel fear. My body tenses up…my stomach…and I get scared of what else I might see. The flashes are so fast though that I couldn’t reconstruct the picture to describe it to anyone.

For some reason I can’t quite remember everything my therapist said during that last session but whatever it was…it had something to do with who I am as a person in every circumstance in my life. The fact that I make it a practice not to lie. It is literally only in this one area that choose to believe things about myself that are not true. I am not a liar. I engage in fantasy but I always know what’s true and what isn’t and my fantasy is all about escape. I do not indulge in therapy for attention and I only talk about painful subjects when I have to. I get no pleasure out of it and do not seek attention from anyone.

So why do I have such a hard time believing these images and feelings? My therapist asked me to consider what it would mean if I did believe and my mind felt the fear for a split second and immediately recoiled from the idea. I understood what it would mean on a very small scale for a very brief moment.

On my way home I gave serious thought to our conversation. I felt like a turning point had been reached for me. And then the flashes stopped. They were just gone.

I could theorize that once I was ready to believe it, my mind decided that it didn’t want me to believe a lie but my gut…my gut says that the retreat into the hills is because of fear not lies. I could wrong about myself…so very wrong that it would rock the foundation of who I believe I am but if I am not a liar then what I feel is based on something real.

But I don’t know how to get my mind back. I don’t know how to get the images back. I’m hoping that I’m patient they will come back on their own but I don’t know. It’s very frustrating to feel like you’re on the precipice of something only to have the edge move away from you to a distance you can’t even see.

Posted in Child Molestation, DID, dissociation, dissociative identity disorder, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, Sexual Abuse, Trauma | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

The Power of Ideas Versus the Power of Me


While continuing to read the book I’ve shared before I’ve been reading the chapter on memory. Much of it is a bringing together of research from many people over many decades and is presented as possibilities with some certainties in the way memory works. Most of it is theorizing but much of it also makes sense.

When I came to a section talking about the power of suggestion I made sure that I didn’t ignore it in favor of the section on memories cut off from consciousness. I feel it’s necessary to look at all possibilities when it comes to sexual abuse and not to only consider that everything I see must be real. Nor does it mean that everything I see is fake.

I found myself going back to the session when I first told my therapist about my uncle kissing me on my underwear. She was sure that it wouldn’t have been the first time he did something but for me, that was the first time I ever entertained the idea that anything else could have happened.

Without her meaning to, my therapist has made this process more difficult. I in no way believe she had some nefarious purpose and I remember the conversation we had the next visit because I was upset with her for saying that and I called her out on it. She apologized explaining that she goes off of her professional experience and her intuition in situations like that. She just spoke what she felt. I could accept that and we have since come to better understand how the other person communicates and processes information. But…it was still said and because of that I always wonder if I would have had these distressing thoughts about my uncle if she had said nothing about possible other abuses.

So, now I once again feel the need to look back at the “case” and once again put forward other facts in play. Sometimes it can be helpful to have things down in writing as it were.

I go back to when I first got married and my husband and I had been intimate. I had never been with anyone sexually before him (as far as I know). Afterwards I was laying in bed (I believe my husband was going to sleep) and I suddenly saw an image of my uncle and I started crying. That fact has always stuck with me in moments of doubt because it made no sense. I hadn’t thought of my uncle in years and years. He was nowhere in my thoughts until that moment. I think my husband asked me what was wrong but I can’t remember what I said. And just as quickly the whole incident was forgotten until I brought him up in therapy.

The other thing I look at is my more immediate reaction to my therapist’s thoughts about further abuse. My own thoughts became very specific. I thought of my uncle’s wife, about her leaving me alone with him. I did a collage about it at one point two years ago. ****

You Left Me collage

****I saw a narrow hallway with rooms off to the sides that was in keeping with the architecture of my hometown. I also had a perspective on the “scene” that was unusual. I told my therapist about something I had seen at one point and she pointed out that my perspective was from being on the floor where children play. In that she was correct and I’ve wondered from time to time why I would put my younger self on the floor automatically instead of on a couch or chair or whatever.

Yes, she suggested that a man would not pick up a little girl and kiss her on her panties in a house with people around him as a “first move”. But I’m the one whose mind started displaying “details” or environments and scenarios that had nothing to do with what she said. She never once said, where or how etc. There are other things that I’ve seen or felt but I picked out two.

I feel that to be responsible I have to ask myself if I am that open to having my mind influenced? Honestly? I’m not. I am a person who tries to form a cohesive unit with those I am around socially so that we can all get along and find common ground. But if a person tells me something or suggests something I don’t just accept it. I have to prove it to myself first. I either do that based on personal experience and/or previous knowledge or if I have none, I research the matter in order to form my own opinion. And while I try to understand other people’s feelings or conclusions, if my own don’t match I don’t defer to the other person.

I think the power of Me is stronger than ideas. This doesn’t help my own struggles but I find it helpful to re-evaluate myself and my process from time to time.

Posted in Child Molestation, DID, dissociative identity disorder, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, Sexual Abuse, Trauma | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

3 Year Blog Anniversary


I just realized that I’ve been blogging for 3 years this month! So, I want to sincerely thank every single person who has read the blog and stuck with me through all my confusion and ranting and speeches and mood changes etc. Thank you guys!

I hope that in another 3 years I can look back and see some of the progress I’d like to make.

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I’ll Talk About It, But I’m Not Talking About It


This is more a quick post so that I put down in writing what may have triggered me a few weeks ago but I’m not going into too much detail for my own reasons.

There was a teenager I was trying to reach out to. I had an inkling that something was off in her household and I wanted to offer to be a friend for her. I ended up being right but I was also very triggered by our conversation. There are adults aware of the situation including the teen’s mother and I plan on making sure that the other adult and I have a conversation about what’s going on. I’ve been waiting to hear back from the teenager but even though we’ve been around each other a couple of times, she hasn’t told me what I was waiting to hear.

For my own conscience I will have to follow-up with the adult I feel is in a better position to help her but I also realized afterwards that I can’t put myself in the position of being responsible for her. I can only say what I think needs to be done but there were things the teen needed to do for me to help her and she hasn’t done that yet. Of course I get that she’s not quite an adult yet so that’s where the adult that’s closer to her comes in. Hopefully her parent will get on board as well and I’ve also suggested therapy, medical help and police involvement.

I think once you’ve done everything you can, you have to know your limits. It’s difficult because of all the stories I’ve heard where adults didn’t help the victim and I don’t want to be that person but I also don’t have super powers to change things or make people do what they need to do.

I felt one of the most important things I could do was to tell her I believed her and to listen to her story. I did those things and gave her my thoughts on the situation. There are things that are out of my control and I have to be careful since I was highly triggered. I don’t have the mental or emotional stamina to be someone’s anchor or rock in my real life in a situation like this where I see these people all the time. But I will do what I can to get resources in on what’s going on.

When speaking to my therapist about this I became very emotional… in my own way that is. When that happens, I don’t cry. I get quite calm and analytical, almost detached and I state that I am feeling a certain way almost as if I’m observing some strange specimen. My therapist wanted me to stay with the feelings but I couldn’t identify exactly why I had been triggered by discussing it with her. It was one of those times when my therapist honed in on the heart of the matter with scary precision.

She asked me if I’d had anyone to talk to when I was that age. I shook my head…maybe I got out a “No” before the tears came. I hadn’t realized that the emotions ran that deep. I felt selfish for crying about myself but there it is.

I’ve also noticed that as I wrote this post, I repeatedly stated that I was going to do what I could to help and I think it’s because I’m afraid that you guys will blame me or think I’m not doing enough or worse…that I’m like all the adults who didn’t help us.

So much for a short post.

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Frightening Familiarity


It’s scary how comfortable addictions can be.

I restricted my calories for a just a few days and exercised briefly like I did when my eating disorder was in full force and it’s frightening how much it felt like getting into a warm bath; it was very comfortable and all too easy.

I can see that my thoughts are already beginning to reason on things the way they did when this all started. It’s so easy. It’s soothing even.

It doesn’t help that I was “rewarded” with weight loss. But the anxiety from being overweight so soon after losing so much was unbearable.

I don’t know how to lose weight and keep calm without falling back into old behaviors. If my weight could just stay at a place I could breathe through then I could hold out until my body recovers from the ED.

I also have no desire to distract myself from my goal of remembering…if there is anything to remember. When my ED was raging, that part of me shutdown and I don’t want that.

Maybe I need to explore if there is something else at work here. Several bad things have happened to people I know and it’s possible I’ve been triggered without realizing it.

Maybe I will write about those events soon.

Posted in Child Molestation, DID, dissociation, dissociative identity disorder, Eating Disorder, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, self-harm, Self-injury, Trauma | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments