.
So, this isn't an update, this is just something i need to put down.
While on Pandy's today, there was a post about shame - and shame is something massive for me, so i was instantly drawn to the post.
I read the post, and my immediate thoughts were i wanted to get in my car and drive to wherever this person lived, maybe 12000 miles away but that was okay, and just hug her. The abuse she suffered was horrific, humilating and just so awful that no one should ever have to have those experiences. I walked around the house and garden for the next hour, just lost in my own head.
This woman had suffered many of the same humiliating things that i had suffered, her thoughts were so similar to mine, the shame of thinking people will be visualizing what you are telling them, its was so fucking close to home i was truely floored.
I know in terms of counseling i am still newish to it, 3 months in to be accurate, but i already know that there are so many things i cant talk about because of the shame, because i dont want her to visualize what i am telling her, i dont want someone else to have them thoughts in their head - even if it is their job - they are caring humans after all. But maybe i just need to sit with this, because when i read this womans post, i didn't visualize what happened to her - what i read and thought was there are people on this earth who are so so twisted and fucked up that they don't deserve the even share the same breathing space as the rest of us. Maybe my counselor may stand to hear some of the stuff - just needing to sit on that i think.
But i get that feeling of shame, and reading it, this person should hold no shame at all, she didnt choose what these people done to her, she didnt choose to be sexually abused. Yet, my shame is just as big, maybe bigger because i havent really worked on much yet, i even struggel to accept i was abused - in terminolgy sense - it was just stuff that happened to me.
Just looking at only one of the three bigger incidents i have told my counselor about, i remember the sahme and humilation like it was yesterday. Laying blindfolded, not know who was there, naked, hands everywhere, sex going on in every orifice, the humilation of the next people coming in and calling the main abuser in to clean me up, i had been bad and was bleeding again. Laying there not knowing who is spreading your legs that wide, whose penis you are holding, the shame is massive, the shame of remembering that woman sitting on my face. I just feel buried in shame. So i get where this woman was coming from, how can i tell my couselor stuff that happened that was more shameful, more embarassing, more humiliating?
My counselor sits there with a really caring look on her face, telling me i can tell her anything, its okay to tell me anything you want....and i look and think, i know she genuinely means that, but actually it isn't okay.
Wednesday, 19 May 2010
Saturday, 8 May 2010
.
So, i've been putting this off writing this here, but its still spinning round in my head so i'm just going to put it down - this is after all what i intended using this space for.
A flashback from no-where, no mini one pre the biggie, just wham. I did mange to talk some of this through with my counselor (LA) this week.
The first part is my memories of the event, nothing censored - just how it was - the second part is some of the discussion that LA and I had around the event.
The abuse had been going on for about a year, so i was 10.
I went to the house as pre-arranged on the last visit - all three of them were there, and i dont know, there was a strange atmosphere, just something different. I wasn't really sure what to do as they didn't initiate anything - after a bit i decided to take my chances and leave (i got away with this sometimes if they were too pissed or stoned) - not today, he shouted at me to get in the room and dont fuck him about today.
So i overheard their conversations, and the one line that sticks in my mind was the doctor was coming to get rid of her baby - time passes and i am feeling really nervous, not sure what is going on, i've been shut in the room and then the secret doorbell rings. it must be the doctor.
I heard them all go upstairs, i sat in the room getting more and more anxious - after what seemed ages, the doctor went. Botht he men came into the room and he was carrying a balnket and he put it in my arms and said i needed to look after the baby - i sat there, with this blanket in my arms with a baby inside - i couldnt see the baby but i could feel it was heavier than just a blanket. I just remember sitting bolt upright. He told me i needed to feed the baby otherwise it would die, i just carried on sitting there holding it not knowing what to do. The other man took the baby off me and put it on the couch. He said again i needed to feed the baby, i kind of sort of knew that baby's sucked their mums boobs and they had milk in them, but was at a loss at what i was supposed to do. He came over and said lets see if you have any milk for the baby, he took my t shirt off and sucked my nipples for only a second or so and said i didnt have any milk for the baby - i remember being scared that i did have milk for the baby, i had no boobs at all at this age, completely flat chested. The thought of having milk coming out of my nipples scared the life out of me.
So, i was going to have to make some milk, i remember so clearly that they sort of said this in a helping me way and i needed to make the milk because the baby would die with out it. I kept looking over to the baby wrapped in the blanket on the couch. He tells me that there is only one way to make milk when you havent got any, that is i have to be good and swallow the stuff that comes out of the end of his willy - that helps make the milk, the more you swallow the more milk you make, if i was sick it wouldnt work and i wouldnt be able to make any milk for the baby.
So two rounds of oral sex followed with the constant reminder to swallow - i was gagging and retching but it was for the baby.
Straight after he sucked my nipples again but still no milk, i remember being somewhat confused that i had swallowed this stuff and it wasnt enough to make any milk and also scared about how many times i was going to have to swallow to make some milk.
I was sent home, maybe tomorrow if we do it again it might be enough for the baby.
I went home, kept thinking about the baby, i knew it would be hungry, i kept squeezing my nipples to see if any milk would come out, i remember thinking if some milk did come out in the night i would hqave to sneak out of home and go to his house to feed the baby.
No milk produced by morning, i went to school, i kept checking, still no milk. i got home from school and the day before they told me they wanted me there after tea. I remember not wanting to go, but also wanting to go because if i was good and did some more swallowing i could feed the baby - i went round early, the two men were sitting in the kitchen smoking and he smiled and said i was early, i said i come to see the baby - he laughed and said the baby was dead because i didnt feed it. I went in the room to look for it, it wasnt there, he said it died that morning and they buried it in a box in the garden because it was small, i remembered thinking it was small because i couldn't see it in the blanket, and remembered thinking of my dad burying a rabbit in our garden in a box and the baby was smaller than that.
I remember crying, i had killed the baby, i didnt feed it, it was my fault, the poor baby. He told me i didnt swallow enough stuff and maybe if i had been good and swallowed all the times before i might have had enough to feed the baby. The guilt was immense, i remembered all the times when i was sick, or when i spat it out, why didnt he tell me then it was for a baby, i would have tried to be good.
She was upstairs and she called me up, i was crying and she was lying in bed, she said did i know about the baby, i said i did, she confirmed to me all that i already knew and felt, she wouldnt forgive me for not feeding the baby and now its dead.
I cried and cried, i remember the funny feeling in my tummy, knowing what i had done. He told me i had better go - so i did, i didnt know what to do with myself, i had to stop crying at some point and i did, and i knew that the baby died, i had killed it, and i didnt mean to, but i was so sorry in my heart.
----------------------------------
So the next 25 years pass, and the minute details of the events fade, i dont process it, there is nothing to process, i knew i had killed a baby and that guilt and shame sat in the back of my locked away head for all these years, never spoken about, because why would i wanrt someone to know what i had done, knowing it was enough, i never thought about the actual incident, it was just the knowing that the baby had died.
So the flashback happened, full, vivd, near enough in 3D, it shook me to the core, how could this memory that i had buried so well be coming back to life, i knew i killed the baby, i didnt need to see a replay. It would have been somethin i never would have talked about, i dont think i would have told LA about it, it is just one of those situations that are buried deep, i know about it, but no need to air it.
2 days of this flashback, the guilt is mounting more and more - i had a counseling session, what do i do, do i cancel, do i try and just push it down as much as i can for the hour or do i tell her?
Two days of no sleep kind of gave it away i guess.
So we went through it - in more detail than i will write here, but this is the bones of it.
Did i actually see a baby? No
Did i feel the baby move, cry, wriggle? No
As an adult - does swallowing semen produce milk? No
Did the woman look preganant, did she have a bump? No
You remember them saying the doctor came to get rid of the baby - not deliver the baby.
Did they show you where the baby was buried? No
Why couldnt the woman feed the baby?
Couldnt they have gone to the shops to buy formula milk?
Okay......As adults reading this, you will have known there was no baby.
For 25 years i have believed there was baby, i killed it - fact.
LA is telling me that they lied to me, they did it to scare me, they did it so i would do what they wanted me to do, they did it so i would keep going back, there was no baby, it was all part of the manipulation, part of the grooming, part of anything to keep me there.
Now? I'm still processing it, i can logically see what LA is saying, and she is right - i think. How do you go from knowing something so true in your heart for 25 years to then discover it isn't true, there are other explanations - none of which are easy to accept.
It feels easier to know i killed the baby, i lived with that for 25 years and have accepted it.
I struggle with how did i not put this all together myself and come to this conclusion - after all, i do know that semen doesnt make milk! The answer is simple i know, but hard - it happeded to me as a child, it is what i believed as a child, i have never processed it as an adult, never put an adults perspective on to it, i've just always known the baby died and lock that memory away.
I keep having mini flashbacks of other times they reminded me of the baby, and then thinking LA has got it wrong, but i keep going back to the facts, and deep down its obvious - but its so hard to get my head around, i feel confused, i feel stupid, i dont feel free of the guilt? Shouldn't i feel elated?
So, i've been putting this off writing this here, but its still spinning round in my head so i'm just going to put it down - this is after all what i intended using this space for.
A flashback from no-where, no mini one pre the biggie, just wham. I did mange to talk some of this through with my counselor (LA) this week.
The first part is my memories of the event, nothing censored - just how it was - the second part is some of the discussion that LA and I had around the event.
The abuse had been going on for about a year, so i was 10.
I went to the house as pre-arranged on the last visit - all three of them were there, and i dont know, there was a strange atmosphere, just something different. I wasn't really sure what to do as they didn't initiate anything - after a bit i decided to take my chances and leave (i got away with this sometimes if they were too pissed or stoned) - not today, he shouted at me to get in the room and dont fuck him about today.
So i overheard their conversations, and the one line that sticks in my mind was the doctor was coming to get rid of her baby - time passes and i am feeling really nervous, not sure what is going on, i've been shut in the room and then the secret doorbell rings. it must be the doctor.
I heard them all go upstairs, i sat in the room getting more and more anxious - after what seemed ages, the doctor went. Botht he men came into the room and he was carrying a balnket and he put it in my arms and said i needed to look after the baby - i sat there, with this blanket in my arms with a baby inside - i couldnt see the baby but i could feel it was heavier than just a blanket. I just remember sitting bolt upright. He told me i needed to feed the baby otherwise it would die, i just carried on sitting there holding it not knowing what to do. The other man took the baby off me and put it on the couch. He said again i needed to feed the baby, i kind of sort of knew that baby's sucked their mums boobs and they had milk in them, but was at a loss at what i was supposed to do. He came over and said lets see if you have any milk for the baby, he took my t shirt off and sucked my nipples for only a second or so and said i didnt have any milk for the baby - i remember being scared that i did have milk for the baby, i had no boobs at all at this age, completely flat chested. The thought of having milk coming out of my nipples scared the life out of me.
So, i was going to have to make some milk, i remember so clearly that they sort of said this in a helping me way and i needed to make the milk because the baby would die with out it. I kept looking over to the baby wrapped in the blanket on the couch. He tells me that there is only one way to make milk when you havent got any, that is i have to be good and swallow the stuff that comes out of the end of his willy - that helps make the milk, the more you swallow the more milk you make, if i was sick it wouldnt work and i wouldnt be able to make any milk for the baby.
So two rounds of oral sex followed with the constant reminder to swallow - i was gagging and retching but it was for the baby.
Straight after he sucked my nipples again but still no milk, i remember being somewhat confused that i had swallowed this stuff and it wasnt enough to make any milk and also scared about how many times i was going to have to swallow to make some milk.
I was sent home, maybe tomorrow if we do it again it might be enough for the baby.
I went home, kept thinking about the baby, i knew it would be hungry, i kept squeezing my nipples to see if any milk would come out, i remember thinking if some milk did come out in the night i would hqave to sneak out of home and go to his house to feed the baby.
No milk produced by morning, i went to school, i kept checking, still no milk. i got home from school and the day before they told me they wanted me there after tea. I remember not wanting to go, but also wanting to go because if i was good and did some more swallowing i could feed the baby - i went round early, the two men were sitting in the kitchen smoking and he smiled and said i was early, i said i come to see the baby - he laughed and said the baby was dead because i didnt feed it. I went in the room to look for it, it wasnt there, he said it died that morning and they buried it in a box in the garden because it was small, i remembered thinking it was small because i couldn't see it in the blanket, and remembered thinking of my dad burying a rabbit in our garden in a box and the baby was smaller than that.
I remember crying, i had killed the baby, i didnt feed it, it was my fault, the poor baby. He told me i didnt swallow enough stuff and maybe if i had been good and swallowed all the times before i might have had enough to feed the baby. The guilt was immense, i remembered all the times when i was sick, or when i spat it out, why didnt he tell me then it was for a baby, i would have tried to be good.
She was upstairs and she called me up, i was crying and she was lying in bed, she said did i know about the baby, i said i did, she confirmed to me all that i already knew and felt, she wouldnt forgive me for not feeding the baby and now its dead.
I cried and cried, i remember the funny feeling in my tummy, knowing what i had done. He told me i had better go - so i did, i didnt know what to do with myself, i had to stop crying at some point and i did, and i knew that the baby died, i had killed it, and i didnt mean to, but i was so sorry in my heart.
----------------------------------
So the next 25 years pass, and the minute details of the events fade, i dont process it, there is nothing to process, i knew i had killed a baby and that guilt and shame sat in the back of my locked away head for all these years, never spoken about, because why would i wanrt someone to know what i had done, knowing it was enough, i never thought about the actual incident, it was just the knowing that the baby had died.
So the flashback happened, full, vivd, near enough in 3D, it shook me to the core, how could this memory that i had buried so well be coming back to life, i knew i killed the baby, i didnt need to see a replay. It would have been somethin i never would have talked about, i dont think i would have told LA about it, it is just one of those situations that are buried deep, i know about it, but no need to air it.
2 days of this flashback, the guilt is mounting more and more - i had a counseling session, what do i do, do i cancel, do i try and just push it down as much as i can for the hour or do i tell her?
Two days of no sleep kind of gave it away i guess.
So we went through it - in more detail than i will write here, but this is the bones of it.
Did i actually see a baby? No
Did i feel the baby move, cry, wriggle? No
As an adult - does swallowing semen produce milk? No
Did the woman look preganant, did she have a bump? No
You remember them saying the doctor came to get rid of the baby - not deliver the baby.
Did they show you where the baby was buried? No
Why couldnt the woman feed the baby?
Couldnt they have gone to the shops to buy formula milk?
Okay......As adults reading this, you will have known there was no baby.
For 25 years i have believed there was baby, i killed it - fact.
LA is telling me that they lied to me, they did it to scare me, they did it so i would do what they wanted me to do, they did it so i would keep going back, there was no baby, it was all part of the manipulation, part of the grooming, part of anything to keep me there.
Now? I'm still processing it, i can logically see what LA is saying, and she is right - i think. How do you go from knowing something so true in your heart for 25 years to then discover it isn't true, there are other explanations - none of which are easy to accept.
It feels easier to know i killed the baby, i lived with that for 25 years and have accepted it.
I struggle with how did i not put this all together myself and come to this conclusion - after all, i do know that semen doesnt make milk! The answer is simple i know, but hard - it happeded to me as a child, it is what i believed as a child, i have never processed it as an adult, never put an adults perspective on to it, i've just always known the baby died and lock that memory away.
I keep having mini flashbacks of other times they reminded me of the baby, and then thinking LA has got it wrong, but i keep going back to the facts, and deep down its obvious - but its so hard to get my head around, i feel confused, i feel stupid, i dont feel free of the guilt? Shouldn't i feel elated?
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
.
So, i'm feeling a bit trapped by something, as to whether at some point i will be able to inform LA of an incident that occured while i was being abused. The difficulty is because i think it is a reportable offence, even though it happened 25 years ago. I'm kind of stuck as to where to go with it, do i just keep everything crossed that it doesn't come up in a flashback again, or.....what else.....I know the concern is about being reported, as in me, because it wasn't me who committed the act, but if it was still reportable to the police i just cant do it, full stop.I need to let this go, as i'm getting hung up on it, and i need not because its not an issue at present, i guess i was trying to get some answers before it does become an issue but LA can't give me definate answers because she doesn't know what it is! And, thats stupid, because it feels like i am playing games, i am not, i am the last person to play games, i'm just straight on the nose. Grrrrrrrr
I am managing so crap at work its a wonder i havent got the sack these last couple of weeks, i mean, there are only so many days you can keep taking off before it becomes an issue - and i'm even struggling to keep up with what i was doing before, which was on good days working 24/7 to keep on top of things because so much happens every day and it only takes a couple of days of being in the soup and i'm like hours and hours behind, but these last few weeks, even on good days, i havent got the energy or motivation to spend hour after hour keeping on top of things, and believe me, i'm drowning.
And, i felt really guilty this past weekend, like massively so - a work colleague rang me for some work advice, no issue with that at all, we talked through the issue, batted about some options, looked at it from different angles and came up with a solution, a no brainer really, until she rang me out of work a day later, just having a general chat about work and responsibility and accountability, and she said "how does it feel to be living someone else's dream" - i was like what??? We then went off on to the conversation of careers etc and cut a long story short, my life (as this person views it) is her dream.
Her take on me: You have everything, your own house, a car, an excellent career with never ending prospects, you are respected, valued, listened to, you are fun, you listen to people, you are fucking batty and you have compassion, you speak and everyone listens and you treat everyone with respect.
Umm.....
Somehow i think she had her rose tainted spectacles on here, but it just floored me that someone thought that of me, and also made me smile of how good a job i do of keeping my its all okay front on, then i felt guilt, that i supposedly have what someone else wants, and i told her she could have the job i have if she wanted it, yes its hard work but she is capable of it, she smiled and said, all the training in the world cant teach you what you have, bemused with this i asked her what "this" was, and she said, you cant name it, you just have it, it radiates from you. I was floored, waht a nice thing to hear from someone, and it was said in an absolute genuine way, of course she also called me all the names that i'm used to like crazy lady, batty fucker, a shot away etc!!
Ummm.....
I wanted to say to her for the first time ever, but with this image you have of me, comes flashbacks, triggers, PTSD, nightmares, sleepless nights, fear, guilt, shame, regret, a feeling of being completely lost and alone. Have one side of me, have the other, of course i didnt, but it amazes me how well sometimes i mange to keep all of this in check.
I'm still struggling with some stuff i wrote in my last post, but then i guess it wont just be okay over night just because i managed to write it down. I didn't talk to LA about it, no doubt i will at some point, but i didnt feel ready to just yet, and thats just going to have to be okay.
I got triggered big time at the weekend, strange how things trigger you that never have before, i was in a big warehouse shop, and i came to the end of an aisle and there were kids dressing up costumes, loads of them hanging up, it just stopped me in my tracks, mini flashbacks all over the place and sweating like i had run a marathon. Weird how this memory has just say in the back of my head all of these years, i knew it happened, but with kind of no feeling attached to it, then all of sudden there i am, 9 years old having to wear fairy or angel or nurse costumes - picked by her - and paraded around the group of people at one of their parties, i hated it, hated it so fucking much, and they seemed to prefer the nurse's outfit, with the stesthescope, equally hated was the fact that after each person had finished with me, i used to have to put the fucking costome back on again for the next one. I don't know, its been sitting there whirling round in my head and i'm just not sure how to process it.
Its starting to feel like i am not safe going anywhere because of these unexpected triggers and its one more thing to fuck with my head.
So, i'm feeling a bit trapped by something, as to whether at some point i will be able to inform LA of an incident that occured while i was being abused. The difficulty is because i think it is a reportable offence, even though it happened 25 years ago. I'm kind of stuck as to where to go with it, do i just keep everything crossed that it doesn't come up in a flashback again, or.....what else.....I know the concern is about being reported, as in me, because it wasn't me who committed the act, but if it was still reportable to the police i just cant do it, full stop.I need to let this go, as i'm getting hung up on it, and i need not because its not an issue at present, i guess i was trying to get some answers before it does become an issue but LA can't give me definate answers because she doesn't know what it is! And, thats stupid, because it feels like i am playing games, i am not, i am the last person to play games, i'm just straight on the nose. Grrrrrrrr
I am managing so crap at work its a wonder i havent got the sack these last couple of weeks, i mean, there are only so many days you can keep taking off before it becomes an issue - and i'm even struggling to keep up with what i was doing before, which was on good days working 24/7 to keep on top of things because so much happens every day and it only takes a couple of days of being in the soup and i'm like hours and hours behind, but these last few weeks, even on good days, i havent got the energy or motivation to spend hour after hour keeping on top of things, and believe me, i'm drowning.
And, i felt really guilty this past weekend, like massively so - a work colleague rang me for some work advice, no issue with that at all, we talked through the issue, batted about some options, looked at it from different angles and came up with a solution, a no brainer really, until she rang me out of work a day later, just having a general chat about work and responsibility and accountability, and she said "how does it feel to be living someone else's dream" - i was like what??? We then went off on to the conversation of careers etc and cut a long story short, my life (as this person views it) is her dream.
Her take on me: You have everything, your own house, a car, an excellent career with never ending prospects, you are respected, valued, listened to, you are fun, you listen to people, you are fucking batty and you have compassion, you speak and everyone listens and you treat everyone with respect.
Umm.....
Somehow i think she had her rose tainted spectacles on here, but it just floored me that someone thought that of me, and also made me smile of how good a job i do of keeping my its all okay front on, then i felt guilt, that i supposedly have what someone else wants, and i told her she could have the job i have if she wanted it, yes its hard work but she is capable of it, she smiled and said, all the training in the world cant teach you what you have, bemused with this i asked her what "this" was, and she said, you cant name it, you just have it, it radiates from you. I was floored, waht a nice thing to hear from someone, and it was said in an absolute genuine way, of course she also called me all the names that i'm used to like crazy lady, batty fucker, a shot away etc!!
Ummm.....
I wanted to say to her for the first time ever, but with this image you have of me, comes flashbacks, triggers, PTSD, nightmares, sleepless nights, fear, guilt, shame, regret, a feeling of being completely lost and alone. Have one side of me, have the other, of course i didnt, but it amazes me how well sometimes i mange to keep all of this in check.
I'm still struggling with some stuff i wrote in my last post, but then i guess it wont just be okay over night just because i managed to write it down. I didn't talk to LA about it, no doubt i will at some point, but i didnt feel ready to just yet, and thats just going to have to be okay.
I got triggered big time at the weekend, strange how things trigger you that never have before, i was in a big warehouse shop, and i came to the end of an aisle and there were kids dressing up costumes, loads of them hanging up, it just stopped me in my tracks, mini flashbacks all over the place and sweating like i had run a marathon. Weird how this memory has just say in the back of my head all of these years, i knew it happened, but with kind of no feeling attached to it, then all of sudden there i am, 9 years old having to wear fairy or angel or nurse costumes - picked by her - and paraded around the group of people at one of their parties, i hated it, hated it so fucking much, and they seemed to prefer the nurse's outfit, with the stesthescope, equally hated was the fact that after each person had finished with me, i used to have to put the fucking costome back on again for the next one. I don't know, its been sitting there whirling round in my head and i'm just not sure how to process it.
Its starting to feel like i am not safe going anywhere because of these unexpected triggers and its one more thing to fuck with my head.
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