There will be a frank, detailed post about child abuse below. If you can’t stomach this subject, then you’d better look elsewhere for entertainment.
Thank you for visiting,
Life is difficult for me at the moment. There are things that are going right (for a change), but the things that are going wrong seem to over shadow them…
When I was eight, I was sexually abused by my grandfather (hereafter known as He / Him.)
He never touched my younger sister and he didn’t like women his own age. He was, in fact a paedophile, before the word was well known. I don’t have many memories of what happened to me in that period. It’s a confusing mish-mash of scenes and impressions, sounds and smells.
There are certain places that can trigger a recall for me and the sound of water running into a metal container often scares me. The things that I can remember are seen as if I am watching TV. I know what this is – it’s called “Out of Body” – and its a defence mechanism that children use when they are terrified. Things can happen to them and they won’t feel them.
I can still take myself out of body, but that’s more of a concious decision and I don’t do it very often.
One of the things that He used to do to me was rub himself up against my back. It was always a prelude to pain and I never wanted to think about it again, so I wiped the memory.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t actually wiped out; just locked tightly away and this morning, the memory got out. Suddenly I was eight again and being bent over the drivers seat in his van. It was a fleeting flash of a picture, but the feelings came flooding back. It made me seriously grumpy / grouchy / hard to live with / unable to touch or talk to.
Along with that, a discussion that TOH and I have been having for a while (6 years or so) about my libido and the fact that I’m not particularly keen on touching him when we make love,…
… Don’t worry, that’s all the detail on that discussion you’re getting – I’m not talking about that in public…
…came to a head. TOH and I had the worst row we’ve ever had. It came close to him walking out of my life at one point and the emotion triggered more memories. Next thing I know, words are pouring out of me. I needed to get it out – as if the memory or the words were poisoning me.
I don’t remember what it was that I said. It’s almost as if it wasn’t me speaking. Maybe it was the terrified little girl from my past talking and my adult side had hidden away from the pain? Anyway, after things calmed down, we made up and I called a counsellor.
I’m fed up with having these episodes. I need to release the poison that is inside and the only way that is going to happen, is if I talk to someone. Someone who knows how to draw the poison out from my wounds and can put a plaster on to allow me to heal.
I’ve taken another step on my road to mental health today – a painful, but necessary one.