I was sexually abused when I was a child. I know I have written about it before, but its a big deal in my life.
The thing of it is, it isn’t always a big deal in my life, in fact, most of the time, I don’t even think about it.
It started with the movie Georgia Rule. For those who havn’t seen it, its about a girl who was sexually abused by her stepfather. And the movie is about the family dynamics after she comes out with the truth.
Its so different than the dynamics of my family, and the dynamics of what happened in my family after the truth came out for me. See, my mother didn’t ever do much of anything.
And it makes me angry.
It got worse when I called my Grandmother, I don’t often do this, because well she is a lot like my mother. And I know before long, the guilt trips, no matter how subtle, are going to start. I wasn’t dissapointed. She went on about how sad she was that I couldn’t show up for Easter. I started thinking, if my mother had just told her, if she had stuck up for me in the slightest bit, my Grandmother would know why I didn’t show up for Easter. It made me sad, it made me want to tell my Grandmother what really happened so that she would know.
Then there was a game… a game for kids about knowing the difference between okay touch and not okay touch. A game that teaches kids that its not okay for someone to touch you in ‘those’ places. That its okay to be uncomfortable, and most of all, if it happens, its okay to tell someone. Its okay, and its not your fault.
All I could think about is that maybe, just maybe, if someone had talked about these things. If I had someone I could have talked to, someone I could have trusted. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to suffer with the abuse for five years, maybe it would have only happened once, and maybe I could have gotten through it.
Instead, yesterday, I suffered my very first flashback from the abuse. It was scary as hell.
Expecially since before this I could barely remember any of it… any of the five years that I suffered through hell.
I was terrified, thank god for my therapist, who could be there, and allow me to relive some of the worst moments of my life. Thank God for my ability to get through things.
I guess I don’t know where this is going, perhaps I just felt the need to put it out there. Its something that I guess has needed to happen for a while, and I guess it just caught me off guard, because I have spent years trying to pretend that this all didn’t mean anything to me.
It also brings up a lot of feelings that I just want to go away. Feelings towards my mother, feelings towards anything. It made me think about how I am going to go about all this now that I know I need to do something, do something if I am going to make these hard feelings go away.
I keep thinking I need to write a letter to my Grandmother, telling her what happened, explaining to her why I don’t come around for holidays anymore. Because even though it should be my mother, it should be her explaining to people. Because she is supposed to love me and protect me that way, but its not that way.
I am going to have to do it. I guess having a flashback, I guess reliving these moments, feeling like he was right there. Feeling him on my skin. It was my bodys way of telling me i’m ready. I am ready to do something about this, work through it. Get through it. I suppose the first step is my Grandma.
I guess I am just afraid that I will get the same reaction from her that I got from my mother.
I’m even a little afraid that she will do the opposite, what if it blows the whole thing out of the water. What if then, I am thrown into dealing with it.
Worst of all, what if I have to face him.