Sunday, November 29, 2009

I love you and I will never let anyone take away your self-respect or steal your soul!

I do not know what is happening to me right now but since I’ve been home (well, technically, since the incident at the spa) I have been having perverse and warped physical reactions to the flashbacks that are spilling out of me. Last night I felt like I was suffocating…I couldn’t swallow… I couldn’t breathe - I was too drained to fight it and I dialed the therapist’s number but hung up when she answered.

Still convinced I have to do it on my own I stumbled back down the stairs and turned on the lights. I walked around the kitchen, talking myself through each step, picking things up and telling myself what I was holding and seeing…this is my house, this is my kitchen, this is my desk, this is an envelope with my name on it…my phone bill – I am an adult, I am a wife, a mother, a friend, a homeowner…How crazy does that sound? I had to talk out loud to keep him away from hurting me again.

I don’t remember what happened after that – a couple of hours later I woke up on my daughter’s bedroom floor, my body between her bed and the door, as though I was trying to protect her from…from what? Because she was me when I went into her room? Because I so desperately wanted my mother to say to me, “I love you and I will protect you. I will never let anyone steal your soul or hurt you beyond repair.” I stood up and walked over to her bed where she was breathing peacefully, holding her pink bear and using her pink elephant as a pillow. I touched her cheek and her red curly hair, and gently pulled up her ballerina quilt, and walked quietly out of her room.

What am I so scared of? Why can’t I snap out of it???

It is all so warped and cruel. Experiences like sexual abuse and rape do more than just bump into us in the night…they critically wound us, sometimes fatally. Every single ounce of our being is ripped to shreds, our souls shattered. And we are left to pick up the pieces of what never should have been ~ angry…hurt…sad…hopeless…traumatized…full of shame and unable to trust anyone enough to talk about it.

Does anyone who hasn’t *been there* really understand how traumatic and painful it is to hold all of this inside because of the fear of being told to ‘get over it’, or ‘shut up and behave’ or ‘It wouldn’t be so traumatic if you stayed in the present moment and out of the past’….so many secrets…so many years…so much energy it takes to keep it all in and ‘act normal’.  Does anyone understand how much it hurts to be told 'oops - sorry, it's after 10 now - you will be abandoned so make a different choice.'  It’s exhausting…But exhaustion feels like the better choice...rather than bein abandoned.  And that's why I no longer reach out for help.  That's why she once again hides.  Because she was hurt time and time again...and now she's too scared.  Now, like then, 'in the face of expected abandonment...she makes a different choice.'

Maybe I am just too traumatized to ever fully trust anyone.  What if that is really my 'truth'?  Please don't let tonight be like last night.  I am too tired...I am so scared and tired. 


  1. At least once every couple of months I have a nightmare that is so terrifying and so horrible about someone hurting my children, that I wake up crying with a panic attack and have to wake up my husband to help check the kids, alarm system, windows and doors. I can't usually go back to sleep after one of those until they are safely at school. I slept on the floor in my son's room like that once, but back then I didn't know why. I thought it was because of my fear of kidnappers.

    I don't blame you for being reluctant to trust. Though it does make things harder, it could be harder in another way - and maybe more devastating, if trust came easy.

  2. My son calls my fear of something happening to them my *worry meter* and he believes it is set way to high.
    Thanks for being there via email last night...altho I read the email exchange today and I've no idea how you even deciphered what I was trying to say...looks like a scared 5 year old was writing. Thanks for not abandoning me or telling me to 'get over it'.
    Scared again tonight...I need to sleep but can't. and again, asking th ? - what's the point of any of this?

  3. I think I have probably been too traumatized to really trust people. I will never tell anyone to "just get over it." I might tell them to not let the bastards win, but never, ever, ever will I say "just get over it" or "move on" or any of that happy horseshit.
    Fortunately I don't have much of the flashback stuff but I will tell you--I can't sleep in a bed at home. I always sleep on the couch. Because in my subconscious I think that there would not be room for a rapist on the couch.