Today i am angry. I am so fucking angry, that someone that isn’t in my life nor deserves to be still seems to have quite an effect on my daily life. Today is not an ideal day. Today i want to hunt him down and put smelly old fish under his car seats, a over filled sanitary bin in his bed and draw giant dicks all over his car. I probably won’t. But lets pretend.
This morning i watched a video about a young teen who has Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and was sexually abused as a child by her Father (See the link on her amazing heartbreaking story here!) Her story was refreshing. Refreshing to see these brave young women talking about something so important something almost Taboo, to see how tenacious yet fragile they are, I haven’t really ever been able to see someone else in the way i see myself, but in those girls i saw myself, i related to them, they were amazing, they were hurt and a little broken and always will be but i got them. They all had elements in each of their stories i knew too well, how it made them feel, the confusion, the shame, the disgust. I am not alone, which is the sad part, perhaps it would be better if i were alone so that might mean no one else would be abused, the fact is that we should never have ever been abused by our caregivers. At this point i feel i am going through some rage about this, like yes it happened just like other things in my life happened but this is one thing that never should have. I am angry and rage filled like the devil about to eat 20 heaps cute newborn babies.
One of her friends starts to speak of her abuse and in the beginning she is strong like I have seen in myself a billion times before, and then it swallows her up a little on the inside and it gets to her and you see her face drop and her eyes are so sad and full of a thousand bad memories and someone places a hand on her arm to comfort her and that’s where i ached, i grieved for her as though i was her, i understood her and i wanted to so badly hug her. I know that pain and the distress it causes on the inside, it stains us and makes our insides black like we have emphysema, that shit never goes away. I know the feeling of the power and the courage it takes to speak out loud and i know the feeling that in mere moments those feelings can turn to gut wrenching agony.
I was lying in bed with Batman, Wheels and Little flea in our sunlit little room, warm, safe, content with the smell of morning, a very full wet nappy and morning breaths and possibly wet carpet smell from the leaky bathroom. I was watching the video feeling and reading the article so easily, so content and completely ok with the idea of it. I had watched and read many things about Sexual abuse before, i’m like a sexual abuse Wiki page. My son wheels was watching me and said “Why do you have tears in your eyes mum?” He didn’t understand and nor should he, nor will he ever. If he ever did understand the pain then i know i failed him. The tears fell but what i really needed to happen was to be alone to cry, i wanted to sob, heave, and make weird and awkward sad noises while i writhed in pain alone in my beautiful bed of love.
“Cancer never bothered me at all, versus with sexual abuse it’s like that happened and it’s still haunting me”…
A girl of her age stating that Cancer doesn’t bother her despite now she can’t have children, she shaved her head, she lives in a tiny room with her entire family so she can get to treatment for her Cancer. Yet it’s the sexual abuse that haunts her, not her life changing cancer that could have killed her. It could have killed her. The abuse caused her to want to take her own life, then on later she’s trying to save the life she wanted to end.
Many people wonder why people like myself can’t “just get over it”, this kind of shows it. Sexual abuse even in the eyes of a teenage girl is worse than Cancer, even she can recognise how truly bad it is. I can’t imagine, since i have never had cancer. I always imagined cancer would be the worst thing i might go through if i were to get it, i always assume it’ll be a weird cancer of like maybe my butt or knee cancer?
I could think; ‘well at least i don’t have Cancer’…but it’s not like that.
So if this pain, the emotional torment and shame of my abuse is the worst thing i’ll probably encounter in my life then i welcome the rest of my life with absolute open awkward huggable arms. If this is the worst, then the rest should be a walk in the park, a really scary dark and savage beast filled park littered with little lego pieces and tiny shards of glass that have spikes on them as well perhaps, but a park all the same. Walk in the park.
If Lena, the 18 year old woman can be that hero and survive like she has, the Cancer, sexual abuse, and suicide attempts?
Then i will be ok too.