Dont get me wrong, my childhood wasn’t horrible. In fact it was pretty good.
But a pretty good childhood doesn’t erase the scars of sexual molestation and abuse that were endured during that childhood.
What is your earliest memory? I hope yours is a good one.
Unfortunately mine isn’t. Stop reading now if you are offended by violence or descriptions of child abuse or sexualization of the underaged.
Still here? If you are just be prepared.
I was crying, naked and hiding. I was scared. I was between the bed and the wall trying to not be found. I was holding a stuffed toy or a blanket. I felt terror.
I screamed as the faceless male pulled me from my hiding place. No one heard my scream except my attacker. I remember blood and pain from my rear end. I remember tears and I remember fear. I don’t remember anything else. I don’t remember who it was.
That is my earliest memory. I know now I was being molested, most likely raped.
The only thing I know about my abuser is it was a male. The rest is blacked out. I’ve never been able to picture his face.
Was this the first time I was sexually abused? I haven’t a clue.
It’s just my first memory. Memory was still spotty for a while after that.
Was it the last time I was sexually abused? No it was not.
During my teen years, starting about 13, I was repeatedly molested by three different males. Two of them were my teachers, one was a trusted neighbor. One I continued having sex with until I was about 17.
…..oh and all three were “straight men”….and one even gave me a constant supply of drugs to keep me coming back.
Oh, and each of these three convinced me I wanted and needed them. Two of them worked their way from suggestive petting to full blow sex.
The other just heavily petted, described what he wanted, told me what he thought I wanted, fondled me through my clothes. He seemed to get off on his verbal graphics and heavy petting without fully completing the act. He actually made me feel the dirtiest and most violated. Yes he repeated this behavior multiple, multiple times. He taught a class I needed to pass.
Why did it happen? Why is it affecting me now?
Yesterday I lost it. I broke apart. In front of a sister-in-law and in front of my mother-in-law I lost it. I threw a ham across the room after I opened the refrigerator and found it leaking all over. I then threw left over spaghetti sauce and a thawing turkey both onto the counter and against a wall, then I blacked out into a crying heap on the floor.
I remember The Better Half getting me up and walking to get me to the bedroom. I remember tears and hyperventilating. I remember being numb.
I’m still numb this morning. The pain in my two injured shoulders is more than I can bear. I’m eating Motrin & Tylenol. I hurt all over.
I have, however, had an epiphany. I just saw the news and I suddenly remembered the news was on when I had my breakdown. I remember seeing the report that the current resident of the White House had just endorsed the senate candidate from Alabama who is accused of molesting underaged girls.
Could it be? Did I fall victim to my own experience upon hearing the news that the current White House resident endorsed a child molester? Endorsed a child molester just because he is republican?
Can anger come to full rage causing a full breakdown after news such as this? I think so.
Abusing children is wrong. A big part of my life struggle is to make sense of why others would hurt me, or any child, to accomplish their own pleasure.
Did the leader of our country just endorse an accused abuser of children? He endorsed abuser accused by more than one? He endorsed a person who stole the innocence of children for his own pleasure, just for political gain and party loyalty?
Yes, the acting leader of our country endorsed an accused, by more than one, child molester for political party gain. Yes, and I went into full breakdown. Yes my life experience and PTSD got the best of me and overcame my serenity and almost my sanity.
How do I recover? How do I get better after a full blown breakdown?
I start by writing this post.
Child molestation is wrong. It is wrong period.
The scars I have hurt. May they, from this day forward, only make me stronger. I was a victim. Today I’ll be a survivor.
Today I will speak out. I will speak up.
Today I will take a step out of the darkness.