I had a shower, and sat on the floor with my legs crossed and my head resting on the glass, for maybe a good 45 minutes trying to meditate or at least practice some mindfulness breathing that our marriage counsellor suggest I try. I can’t, I can’t for more than a few seconds just sit there and let the water flow over me and breathe, my hands twitch,I find myself unknowingly squeezing my hands or wringing them out almost, I have to stop myself and remind myself to breathe and be here and present and grounded. I even repeat in my head, ‘be grounded” to try and guide my mind. I feel almost infected with some kind of flesh eating disease that is eating me from the inside out.
I struggle to be alone in my mind, because my thoughts fly through so fast and so quickly that i barely have a chance to catch myself from stopping them come or even to accept them and see them and let them go. Like when you are on a train and there are heaps of buildings and they zoom past and they make that Woosh sound and if you tried to stop the train by grabbing onto something out the doors, you would probably rip that arm clean off. That’s how fast they feel.
Lately one memory in particular has taken residence in my mind. So I’m assuming that because this is happening I should write about that. It is not my first memory of my abuse but after saying it out loud to my counsellor something stirred it in me and is at the forefront of my mind.
I was probably about 6, my mum was out, it was almost night time and my new step-dad had already made my younger brother go to bed. I remember the house really well as it was the first house they lived in together and my bedroom had this really cool butterfly shimmery wallpaper and where i would sleep in my bed the wall had an air bubble in the paper that I would tap and it made this cute little popping sound when I pressed it in, over and over again I played with that spot.
I was told to have a bath, so I did, I was in the bath which was this weird old 80’s style brown colour and had a shower attached to the right of it. I was in the bath for a while playing when he walked in, he turned on the shower and I remember thinking that this was a new thing, he’s never done this before. He had his shower for what seemed like a minute and didn’t speak to me, I was still in the bath, he hopped out and I felt relieved he was leaving, but then he stayed naked and hopped into the bath with me, before he sat down I scooted myself to as far to the end of the bath that I could and curled my knees up and had my arms tightly around them. He sat down, and he’s a large stocky very tall man and took up a good part of the bath so the water raised up and was now a bit deep, he placed both his legs down the sides of me. I had never seen a man’s penis before and must have looked either confused or shocked or scared because he said to me:
“You can touch it if you want”
I being the polite girl I am said “No it’s ok”
This time he said “no, it’s ok I want you to touch it, you can touch it.”
I don’t know what I said or did at that point but I am pretty sure I got out and went to bed.
That was the first time he tried to get me to do something to him, and wouldn’t know if he tried it again.
What confuses me about this is that I was 6 and I knew that I didn’t want to touch it, and that he was already touching me, if I knew at the time that it was wrong, then why didn’t I tell anyone? I don’t recall him talking to me as a kid, I don’t remember any conversations he ever had with me, so was he telling me not to tell? How did he keep me quiet? Why wouldn’t I tell, it had been a year of it already and I was just shutting up? How did he know I wouldn’t tell and I’m often left wondering how much I have shut out. What things happened that I don’t remember?
I had a Flashback last year about him performing oral sex on me, When the flashback happened I was so confused and upset, I thought I had made it up in my head right then and there, it came as my husband and I were having intimate ‘sessy’ times but the more I thought about it the more it was apparent that it really did happen but it just didn’t feel real.
Your mind forces you to question things that you didn’t know about before I guess; I felt betrayed by my mind for keeping important things from me, and I felt violated all over again.
Child me double crossed adult me.
Makes sense to me though because I feel very disconnected from the child I was, I don’t see her as me yet I feel all the things she does and feel the pain just as she does. I feel as though she is like this spirit of a child that died, and has been following me around haunting my body for years and occasionally inflicts emotional pain on me for funsies.
Part of my recovery will be trying to find my inner child, my childhood was taken from me and I think that is one of the things I am most angry about.
It’s unfair that people think they have the right to walk into someone’s life and smash it into a billion pieces and then walk away years later unscathed and having their lives intact.
What kind of human being must you be?
Or at that point have you lost your humanity?
When you do something hurtful and irreversible to another human being on purpose should you cease to be recognised as a human being?
Should you have rights?
But world over they do, they go to court for rapes and sexual assault crimes on other human beings and do piss poor sentences they get let out on good behaviour or community service to only repeat and repeat until they are caught again and again.
There is no real justice. The world is corrupt. Things need to change.