I have been reading quite a bit lately. Most recently reading Max Lucado's book "Facing Your Giants". It's been an enlightening book. It includes a study guide to correlate with the readings. So, as I read, I will flip back and see some of the questions that Lucado brings up for discussion. One of those questions hit me "upside the head with a 2 X 4" - lovely expression, eh? Well, he may as well hit me with the block of wood, it stood out so much.
Question - "Think about the purveyors of pain in your life. It's one thing to give grace to friends (stood you up for a date, borrowed your favorite shirt and hasn't returned it, took "your" parking spot, etc), but to give grace to those who give you grief? Could you?"
WOW! What a loaded question...however, it was something I needed to look at. There are little things that I get frustrated with friends on (not returning a phone call, meeting up for quick get-together, etc) will let it pass. However, God was asking me - could I forgive Sam and Rocky for what they did? Could I forgive myself for the areas that I blame myself for the abuse? Could I forgive Grandma and other people in my family for allowing it to happen, and yet to allow it to continue?
Throughout the chapter, Lucado talks about David (the same David in David & Goliath) and how he and Saul have gone back and forth and the "opportunities" they had to kill one another for their "wrongdoings" towards each other. Saul is hunting David to kill him and David has this opportunity when Saul entered a dark cave to "relieve himself". David could have killed Saul and his army of 3000 men. It would have brought him down...just like that. However, David told his men to hold back and David himself, goes closer to Saul (in the dark) and cuts off a piece of King Saul's robe. David could have killed him, instead he takes only a piece of the robe instead. David was upset with himself and realized he just "harmed" someone that had been appointed by God himself. When Saul leaves the cave, David follows and tells him, "I could have killed you, yet I didn't." He let him go.
Another opportunity later on again tests David. David comes upon King Saul's camp while they are sleeping. One of his soldiers tells David that God put your enemy at your grasp once again. The soldier was willing to kill. David said no. Instead he took King Saul's speer and water jug and left the camp. Once he was far enough, he shouted out to King Saul that once again his life was spared because he was the anointed one from the Lord.
The Lord occupied David's thoughts on both of those occasions. Instead of acting in vengeance, he looked to the Lord for some solution. This brings me to my life...instead of being filled with hatred, that consumes everything about me, around me and anything else...I should look to something much bigger than I to bring goodness to the situation. It's hard, it's frustrating at times. Sometimes I feel like I am still filled with the hatred and that it turns on me in a split second - changing everything.
Lucado talks about that forgiveness is moving on. It doesn't embrace, endorse or embrace what the wrongdoer does - he discusses that they are still being worked on by God. That was a powerful thought. I think about the wrongdoings in my life; the sin I have committed and still do at times. However, God gives me grace each time. I look back at how far I have come in my life. There has to be that same grace given to Sam, Rocky, and my family. God is still working on them.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Forgiveness - The Next Step of Healing
I spent some time this week with my pastor discussing my first assignment - The Abuse. In the midst of our discussion, he introduced my next assignment...forgiveness, of myself. I wasn't sure if I could complete this next step and definitely not sure as to "how".
He asked me my definition for forgiveness. I told him that I felt like it was forgetting what happened or to just look past the wrongdoings of someone else. He said that is exactly what forgiveness is. I was stuck on the "forgetting part". I thought, how can I get past this point? I know that this has been the biggest road block in my life and thus has kept me from moving forward.
I have been reading a lot of verses in the Bible about forgiveness. The Bible defines forgiveness as a "pardon" - this would be like a judge pardoning us for our crimes and saying you can leave prison and that your "time" has been settled. Why doesn't it seem as easy for situations like this?
Someone talked about writing an inventory about the wrongs that I am holding out on. So let's see...what I am holding on to:
1 - Shame
2 - Making me feel pleasure in the act
3 - Hatred inside me causing me to hate life and wishing to die
4 - the hold it has on me
5 - lack of building strong relationships with people, lack of trust,
6 - nightmares
7 - fear of having a physical, sexual relationship with my husband
8- having my own child
These are things that I believe are holding me back or constantly come up when I try to get beyond and make attempts at healing. I think that is what they are too - "attempts" - as valid as they are, I think this time it is more determined than ever before. While in church yesterday morning, I truly felt this. There was a verse that I have heard so many times while in college, after college, etc. It is a verse that I want to hold onto during this time of healing.
He asked me my definition for forgiveness. I told him that I felt like it was forgetting what happened or to just look past the wrongdoings of someone else. He said that is exactly what forgiveness is. I was stuck on the "forgetting part". I thought, how can I get past this point? I know that this has been the biggest road block in my life and thus has kept me from moving forward.
I have been reading a lot of verses in the Bible about forgiveness. The Bible defines forgiveness as a "pardon" - this would be like a judge pardoning us for our crimes and saying you can leave prison and that your "time" has been settled. Why doesn't it seem as easy for situations like this?
Someone talked about writing an inventory about the wrongs that I am holding out on. So let's see...what I am holding on to:
1 - Shame
2 - Making me feel pleasure in the act
3 - Hatred inside me causing me to hate life and wishing to die
4 - the hold it has on me
5 - lack of building strong relationships with people, lack of trust,
6 - nightmares
7 - fear of having a physical, sexual relationship with my husband
8- having my own child
These are things that I believe are holding me back or constantly come up when I try to get beyond and make attempts at healing. I think that is what they are too - "attempts" - as valid as they are, I think this time it is more determined than ever before. While in church yesterday morning, I truly felt this. There was a verse that I have heard so many times while in college, after college, etc. It is a verse that I want to hold onto during this time of healing.
Philippians 3:12-14 (NIV)
Pressing on Toward the Goal
12Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. 13Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.The verse just really hit a nerve and stuck to me. I really want to forget the past and move on. I know the ways that I am using to "forget" what's happened is not solving anything and is definitely not making it better and is definitely not moving me any closer to healing.
Am I ready for this? I think so.
Dear God,
I know that this has been a long time coming and has been in limbo for years. I believe I am ready to forgive myself for feeling the guilt and shame caused by someone else's sins and not of my own. I want to move on and regain my life back from Sam and Rocky. I want to make a new, fruitful life with my husband. I want to sleep next to my husband and be able to comfort him without the triggers happening that causes me to slip back. I want to allow myself to enjoy being with my husband and not thinking it is wrong. I want to enjoy life. I want to be happy and have a positive outlook with things. I want to make the relationship with you and I stronger. Yes,I am committing to that. I know that I have many friends who want what is best for me and is willing to help me travel through this journey. They are praying for me. I am working on the praying myself. I have been reading your Word the last several days and it has really spoken to me a great deal. Just like in worship yesterday with a new song we were learning - "if my God is with me, then who can ever stop me; if my God is for me, then who can stand against me" - so, therefore, I am asking forgiveness of myself in the sins that I committed trying to forget the past and for forgiveness of myself for the guilt and the shame and all the other feelings that I have had.
Amen.
I am ready to move on.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Abuse
The Abuse
Where do I start? I was 12. I just came back to live with my mom and step dad on a permanent basis; I had been in foster care since I was 7. We left Florida and moved to Texas to be near my grandparents, on my mom's side. My grandma had recently remarried and her new husband had two sons from a previous marriage - Sam and Rocky. Sam was 18 and Rocky was about 14 or 15.
It was decided that we were going to go to the lake to camp. It was a place apparently they went to a lot. The adults slept inside the cabin/house. The kids had tents set up outside. All the older kids were in one tent, the middle ones in another, and the babies were in the house. That left me being the only girl in the older kids tent. I didn't think much about it. I really hadn't ever been camping before - so I looked at it as an adventure. Until the inevitable happened that changed everything.
It was very hot outside and so I was going to sleep on top of my sleeping bag. One of them put his hand inside my pants and started to fondle me. I was terrified! No one had ever done that before. I didn't know what to do. I kicked him away. A few minutes later, he did it again. I crawled out of the tent and went and stood by the adults for a little bit. I was scared. I was 12. Eventually, the adults made me go back into that tent and "sleep". I don't think anything else happened that night; however, it was just the beginning. It was a very long two years living in Texas. I also learned that adults sucked. They didn't listen when you were little and they weren't listening now. I would go to my grandparent's house almost every weekend. And each weekend, I encountered the boys. They were great to hang out with during the day - we rode motorcycles, we went running around - always doing something. the only time during the day that they would mess with me was when we were in the swimming pool or in the lake water. Usually, the adults weren't watching us. The boy's would grab me and hold me close and fondle me through my suit. Then just toss me up, as if they were throwing me out into the water. I guess I just kept going back. They at least paid attention to me. I hated the fact that I had to come back and live with my mom and step-dad. I loved being with my foster family.
There were times when I visited my grandparents house that when we kiss them good-night, that my grandfather used his tongue. I used to think that was really weird. He would hold me tight and close, I couldn't exactly push away. I kind of quit going to him when I would get ready for bed. He used to brush up against my chest as well. I spent 8th grade being driven to school by Sam. He had a really cool red Ford pick up - an old timer's truck. I guess in some ways it was cool to get a ride to school instead of having to take the bus everyday. However, there was a price for it. Of course, I sat in the middle almost every time when I rode with him. It gave him a lot of opportunity to continue "grooming" me. He would always tell me how pretty I looked and complimented me. Of course, he was 17 or 18 by this point. I know he was a senior in high school Of course, after the compliments, came the touching.
Eventually, we moved to Minnesota; closer to my step-dad's family. We moved to Fairmont, MN. I was getting ready to enter into high school. I was away from the guys and no one was going to touch me there. Our first summer there, they came to visit. Us older kids slept outside and everyone else was in the house. Once again, they would fondle me until I would push them off and it would always start up again. It would stop when I would move into the house to sleep. I was 14 by this point.
We stayed in Minnesota for 2 years before moving to Kansas City to meet up with my grandparents; grandma was being transferred by Sprint from Dallas, TX to Overland Park, KS. My parents uprooted us over the Christmas break right before my 16th birthday. We would live with my grandparents and all 3 of their sons (Grandma had a son who was 6 months younger than me) for the first 3 or 4 months. This meant, 3 of us went to school together at the high school nearby. Of course, no one outside the circle of friends, realized we were related. So, Rocky, Jon and I all went to school together. Rocky and I were in the same grade and Jon was a year behind us. This meant we had the same circle of friends and hung out all the time. I did anything to get out of the house. In this house, was 5 adults, 9 kids and 3 dogs. It was a crazy household. So, to get out of the house, I always hung out with Rocky and his friends. It was fine at first. Rocky didn't mess with me much. However, Sam touched me whenever he had the chance; mostly when he was drunk. He would come into my room at night and touch me. I would kick him away and he would eventually leave me be. Sam didn't stay at the house long. He eventually went to live back at his mom's in Oklahoma. Rocky would invite me into his room to watch TV or help him with his homework. Eventually, this led to him fondling me on occasion. He would stop when I would tell him. I didn't want to reject it because he took me places, he got me out of the house. Was this wrong?
Eventually my mom and step-dad found their own place, but I continued to go back and hang out with Rocky and the rest of our friends. I dated a little bit and this is when I found out that the abuse seriously affected other relationships, especially with guys in a physical nature. I didn't put much into at first, but it started to have an impact on everything. I started drinking. Started hanging with people from work who smoked pot, did acid and speed, etc. I had a horrible attitude towards life in general. I think I thought it had more to do with my dysfunctional family life, not the abuse. I was always angry. The abuse only got worse.
When I was 16, I left home for good. I had run away numerous times, but this time I left for good. The only place I could go long term was to my grandparents house. I ended up living with them pretty much until I got married (with the exception of college). However, with my last two years of high school I lived with them. I had a room across from my grandparents room. Rocky and Jon were upstairs and Sam was downstairs in the basement. So, it would start up again, just a matter of time. Sam would take me on motorcycle rides just to get me out of the house. We would hang out on occasion. However, on nights that Sam would go out and drink. He would come back at night and come into my room. I would find him on top of me while I was sleeping. Because he was so drunk, he was heavy and I couldn't move. I would just be stuck with him fondling me and touching my breasts. Eventually, I could push him off. This is when the nightmares started. I couldn't sleep at night anymore, because he came into my room a lot. I couldn't understand how my grandparents who could wake at the sound of the front door opening, didn't know what he was doing to me 20 feet across the hall. No one knew. It continued until Sam left to move back to his mom's again.
The anger continued to build inside. All I wanted to do was drink. And, drink, I did. I drank every weekend from Friday until Sunday. I would come back home and sleep all day Sunday.
On one of these weekends of drinking binges, Rocky and I were at the same gathering of friends. He wanted me to leave with him. I am not even sure where we were going. I think we left to get a pack of cigarettes.
Rocky was very drunk, as was I. Neither one of us should have been out driving. Rocky drove. He drove down the rode and pulled in behind a restaurant in the area. He started just talking and then that led into him wanting oral sex. He wanted me to do this. I told him no. He told me I had to do this or I had to have sex with him. he grabbed my hand and placed it on him and was having me stroke him. I remember crying and asking him to stop. He wouldn't. Eventually he had me laying in the front seat of his car. He had pulled my pants off and was laying on top of me. He tried to force himself inside of me. He tried pushing and I was fighting him to get off. I kept fighting, eventually he stopped. We went home afterwards. I didn't talk to him for days. My grandma was trying to figure it out and I couldn't say anything. I didn't tell anyone.
Impact on my life
How do I even begin to "measure" it's impact on my life? It has affected so much. Here it is almost 20 years later, and I can't get it out of my mind. I think the impact is worse at this point in my life, because I avoided it all these years or kept pushing it away. I drank it away. I tried to kill myself over the memories and the nightmares. I would get high just to relax and make it go away. I used to just plaster my walls in my bedroom with posters and such so that when I would wake up in a nightmare in the middle of the night, I would know where I was at, and would know I was safe. I had so many nightmares over the years. I sleep a certain way. I used to sleep on my stomach so no one could touch me, including my husband. I would sleep with a pillow in front of me so no one could get to me while I was sleeping. Sometimes I still do. I had nightmares for years. Sometimes I still do. I used to not let myself sleep at night or would just stay up most nights. There was a time right before I got married, Gene and I stayed at my grandma's house in KC for a weekend. Sam came home to see his parents. I barricaded my bedroom door that night, even while Gene was in the same room. I truly thought he was going to come into my room, even with Gene there. For Gene, it was probably one of the first instances of how much the abuse had an impact on me. I didn't know Sam was coming that weekend. Had I known, I wouldn't have come home.
I used to see visions of Sam and Rocky and I would just hit whatever was in front of me - walls, doors, posts, etc. I broke a lot of bones. I had so much anger inside of me. I always wanted to fight. Most people couldn't understand. I guess I couldn't blame them. No one knew. I was 18 before I said anything to anyone and at that - it was still happening.
The biggest impact of the abuse - it hasn't allowed me to be physical with husband without panicking or freaking out. It started with my honeymoon and has continued since. It's been almost 10 years and I haven't had full blown intercourse with my husband. I can't believe I just wrote that. But it's true. I feel like a freak because of it. Who else would be married for a decade and not be able to have sex with their own spouse? I have got to be the only one. I have tried, we have both tried. I get so far - then I go into this "dark hole" and I can't do it. I stop and panic. I just stare into space and I can't function. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I just curl up and sometimes I have such fear in my eyes, that Gene will just stop. He's always been good about that. Gene has never pushed me. However, I know that this has to wear on him. He's a man and he has needs as well - and as his wife - I can't provide for him. I want my own child, and I honestly think I will never be able to achieve that dream because of the abuse and me letting them win this battle.
How do I feel?
I am angry.
I am sad and frustrated.
I am ashamed that I let it happen. I wasn't a 5 yr old being abused by an adult. I should have known better. Why didn't I say anything? Why did I let it continue?
I sometimes wish I were dead.
I am mad at my family for not believing me. I am angry at them for not stopping the abuse.
I am angry with God for allowing it to happen.
Where do I start? I was 12. I just came back to live with my mom and step dad on a permanent basis; I had been in foster care since I was 7. We left Florida and moved to Texas to be near my grandparents, on my mom's side. My grandma had recently remarried and her new husband had two sons from a previous marriage - Sam and Rocky. Sam was 18 and Rocky was about 14 or 15.
It was decided that we were going to go to the lake to camp. It was a place apparently they went to a lot. The adults slept inside the cabin/house. The kids had tents set up outside. All the older kids were in one tent, the middle ones in another, and the babies were in the house. That left me being the only girl in the older kids tent. I didn't think much about it. I really hadn't ever been camping before - so I looked at it as an adventure. Until the inevitable happened that changed everything.
It was very hot outside and so I was going to sleep on top of my sleeping bag. One of them put his hand inside my pants and started to fondle me. I was terrified! No one had ever done that before. I didn't know what to do. I kicked him away. A few minutes later, he did it again. I crawled out of the tent and went and stood by the adults for a little bit. I was scared. I was 12. Eventually, the adults made me go back into that tent and "sleep". I don't think anything else happened that night; however, it was just the beginning. It was a very long two years living in Texas. I also learned that adults sucked. They didn't listen when you were little and they weren't listening now. I would go to my grandparent's house almost every weekend. And each weekend, I encountered the boys. They were great to hang out with during the day - we rode motorcycles, we went running around - always doing something. the only time during the day that they would mess with me was when we were in the swimming pool or in the lake water. Usually, the adults weren't watching us. The boy's would grab me and hold me close and fondle me through my suit. Then just toss me up, as if they were throwing me out into the water. I guess I just kept going back. They at least paid attention to me. I hated the fact that I had to come back and live with my mom and step-dad. I loved being with my foster family.
There were times when I visited my grandparents house that when we kiss them good-night, that my grandfather used his tongue. I used to think that was really weird. He would hold me tight and close, I couldn't exactly push away. I kind of quit going to him when I would get ready for bed. He used to brush up against my chest as well. I spent 8th grade being driven to school by Sam. He had a really cool red Ford pick up - an old timer's truck. I guess in some ways it was cool to get a ride to school instead of having to take the bus everyday. However, there was a price for it. Of course, I sat in the middle almost every time when I rode with him. It gave him a lot of opportunity to continue "grooming" me. He would always tell me how pretty I looked and complimented me. Of course, he was 17 or 18 by this point. I know he was a senior in high school Of course, after the compliments, came the touching.
Eventually, we moved to Minnesota; closer to my step-dad's family. We moved to Fairmont, MN. I was getting ready to enter into high school. I was away from the guys and no one was going to touch me there. Our first summer there, they came to visit. Us older kids slept outside and everyone else was in the house. Once again, they would fondle me until I would push them off and it would always start up again. It would stop when I would move into the house to sleep. I was 14 by this point.
We stayed in Minnesota for 2 years before moving to Kansas City to meet up with my grandparents; grandma was being transferred by Sprint from Dallas, TX to Overland Park, KS. My parents uprooted us over the Christmas break right before my 16th birthday. We would live with my grandparents and all 3 of their sons (Grandma had a son who was 6 months younger than me) for the first 3 or 4 months. This meant, 3 of us went to school together at the high school nearby. Of course, no one outside the circle of friends, realized we were related. So, Rocky, Jon and I all went to school together. Rocky and I were in the same grade and Jon was a year behind us. This meant we had the same circle of friends and hung out all the time. I did anything to get out of the house. In this house, was 5 adults, 9 kids and 3 dogs. It was a crazy household. So, to get out of the house, I always hung out with Rocky and his friends. It was fine at first. Rocky didn't mess with me much. However, Sam touched me whenever he had the chance; mostly when he was drunk. He would come into my room at night and touch me. I would kick him away and he would eventually leave me be. Sam didn't stay at the house long. He eventually went to live back at his mom's in Oklahoma. Rocky would invite me into his room to watch TV or help him with his homework. Eventually, this led to him fondling me on occasion. He would stop when I would tell him. I didn't want to reject it because he took me places, he got me out of the house. Was this wrong?
Eventually my mom and step-dad found their own place, but I continued to go back and hang out with Rocky and the rest of our friends. I dated a little bit and this is when I found out that the abuse seriously affected other relationships, especially with guys in a physical nature. I didn't put much into at first, but it started to have an impact on everything. I started drinking. Started hanging with people from work who smoked pot, did acid and speed, etc. I had a horrible attitude towards life in general. I think I thought it had more to do with my dysfunctional family life, not the abuse. I was always angry. The abuse only got worse.
When I was 16, I left home for good. I had run away numerous times, but this time I left for good. The only place I could go long term was to my grandparents house. I ended up living with them pretty much until I got married (with the exception of college). However, with my last two years of high school I lived with them. I had a room across from my grandparents room. Rocky and Jon were upstairs and Sam was downstairs in the basement. So, it would start up again, just a matter of time. Sam would take me on motorcycle rides just to get me out of the house. We would hang out on occasion. However, on nights that Sam would go out and drink. He would come back at night and come into my room. I would find him on top of me while I was sleeping. Because he was so drunk, he was heavy and I couldn't move. I would just be stuck with him fondling me and touching my breasts. Eventually, I could push him off. This is when the nightmares started. I couldn't sleep at night anymore, because he came into my room a lot. I couldn't understand how my grandparents who could wake at the sound of the front door opening, didn't know what he was doing to me 20 feet across the hall. No one knew. It continued until Sam left to move back to his mom's again.
The anger continued to build inside. All I wanted to do was drink. And, drink, I did. I drank every weekend from Friday until Sunday. I would come back home and sleep all day Sunday.
On one of these weekends of drinking binges, Rocky and I were at the same gathering of friends. He wanted me to leave with him. I am not even sure where we were going. I think we left to get a pack of cigarettes.
Rocky was very drunk, as was I. Neither one of us should have been out driving. Rocky drove. He drove down the rode and pulled in behind a restaurant in the area. He started just talking and then that led into him wanting oral sex. He wanted me to do this. I told him no. He told me I had to do this or I had to have sex with him. he grabbed my hand and placed it on him and was having me stroke him. I remember crying and asking him to stop. He wouldn't. Eventually he had me laying in the front seat of his car. He had pulled my pants off and was laying on top of me. He tried to force himself inside of me. He tried pushing and I was fighting him to get off. I kept fighting, eventually he stopped. We went home afterwards. I didn't talk to him for days. My grandma was trying to figure it out and I couldn't say anything. I didn't tell anyone.
Impact on my life
How do I even begin to "measure" it's impact on my life? It has affected so much. Here it is almost 20 years later, and I can't get it out of my mind. I think the impact is worse at this point in my life, because I avoided it all these years or kept pushing it away. I drank it away. I tried to kill myself over the memories and the nightmares. I would get high just to relax and make it go away. I used to just plaster my walls in my bedroom with posters and such so that when I would wake up in a nightmare in the middle of the night, I would know where I was at, and would know I was safe. I had so many nightmares over the years. I sleep a certain way. I used to sleep on my stomach so no one could touch me, including my husband. I would sleep with a pillow in front of me so no one could get to me while I was sleeping. Sometimes I still do. I had nightmares for years. Sometimes I still do. I used to not let myself sleep at night or would just stay up most nights. There was a time right before I got married, Gene and I stayed at my grandma's house in KC for a weekend. Sam came home to see his parents. I barricaded my bedroom door that night, even while Gene was in the same room. I truly thought he was going to come into my room, even with Gene there. For Gene, it was probably one of the first instances of how much the abuse had an impact on me. I didn't know Sam was coming that weekend. Had I known, I wouldn't have come home.
I used to see visions of Sam and Rocky and I would just hit whatever was in front of me - walls, doors, posts, etc. I broke a lot of bones. I had so much anger inside of me. I always wanted to fight. Most people couldn't understand. I guess I couldn't blame them. No one knew. I was 18 before I said anything to anyone and at that - it was still happening.
The biggest impact of the abuse - it hasn't allowed me to be physical with husband without panicking or freaking out. It started with my honeymoon and has continued since. It's been almost 10 years and I haven't had full blown intercourse with my husband. I can't believe I just wrote that. But it's true. I feel like a freak because of it. Who else would be married for a decade and not be able to have sex with their own spouse? I have got to be the only one. I have tried, we have both tried. I get so far - then I go into this "dark hole" and I can't do it. I stop and panic. I just stare into space and I can't function. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I just curl up and sometimes I have such fear in my eyes, that Gene will just stop. He's always been good about that. Gene has never pushed me. However, I know that this has to wear on him. He's a man and he has needs as well - and as his wife - I can't provide for him. I want my own child, and I honestly think I will never be able to achieve that dream because of the abuse and me letting them win this battle.
How do I feel?
I am angry.
I am sad and frustrated.
I am ashamed that I let it happen. I wasn't a 5 yr old being abused by an adult. I should have known better. Why didn't I say anything? Why did I let it continue?
I sometimes wish I were dead.
I am mad at my family for not believing me. I am angry at them for not stopping the abuse.
I am angry with God for allowing it to happen.
Monday, April 12, 2010
My Assignment
I have this "assignment" that I need to complete. Will it be graded? Scored? No, it's a first of probably many assignments that is supposed to he me get beyond my past and to move forward with my life. So, it is an important assignment and should be taken seriously - and the only due date I have is how long do I want to procrastinate.
I guess you could say I am afraid to complete this assignment. I am not sure how it will affect me on the inside. You see this assignment is about the abuse I endured for several years at the hands of what were to be two trusted uncles. My assignment is to write what "abuse" occurred, how it made me feel and what I thought/think about it. Every time I venture down this path nightmares occur, my moods are horrible and the anxiety increases. I know the trade-off is suppose to be better, but not sure I can get beyond this part of it to see the better side of it.
In the past I have drank myself to oblivion, avoided relationships and people and was just plain mean to anyone around me.I hate to sleep. I hate being in my bed. I hate my husband even touching me in any way. I hate myself when I am like that and then it's a vicious cycle that just continuously repeats itself.
I have to start this assignment.
I guess you could say I am afraid to complete this assignment. I am not sure how it will affect me on the inside. You see this assignment is about the abuse I endured for several years at the hands of what were to be two trusted uncles. My assignment is to write what "abuse" occurred, how it made me feel and what I thought/think about it. Every time I venture down this path nightmares occur, my moods are horrible and the anxiety increases. I know the trade-off is suppose to be better, but not sure I can get beyond this part of it to see the better side of it.
In the past I have drank myself to oblivion, avoided relationships and people and was just plain mean to anyone around me.I hate to sleep. I hate being in my bed. I hate my husband even touching me in any way. I hate myself when I am like that and then it's a vicious cycle that just continuously repeats itself.
I have to start this assignment.
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