I am trying to just make myself sit and blog as much as I can when things come up. I have to sometimes force myself other times it feels so good to just let it all out and have this place, where no one really knows me and if they judge me I won't know it so it's OK.
I have been struggling a little bit since I have opened this aspect of my life up to the shift group and to Nan. I worry far too much and I know that. But I always sit and wonder what it is that they are thinking now that it's in the open? I've heard no stones to cast etc. I know God is my ultimate judge. But this world doesn't work that way so do others.
I have a hard enough time with self blame over this I wonder if I am the only one? Did their opinion of me change? good or bad?
And now to face the workshop next week with the other shift facilitator who knows this dark, disgusting secret. I am DREADING it. To the point I would almost not go. I will have to force myself though I am a facilitator and I need to be there, I made a commitment and never not follow through. But the second my eyes catch her I am afraid of breaking again.
This is the not so easy part. Letting go of the shame and self blame. Most of the time I can just push it in the back and leave it be, ignore it I guess. But when you know others know. Then it's not so easy to just ignore. You wonder what they think, and how they feel.
Yes Angela you are being CO DEPENDANT so stop. I need to try to focus on not caring so darn much what I am thought about. But when it feel so wrong, and dirty and shameful its so hard to not.
I need to feel all of this as much as possible and not put it in the back somewhere not to be dealt with, because that not being dealt with is what has made my life as it is. I think more than anything this part of my life and the loss of my normal family, having parents is what God has been pushing so hard for me to work on. So maybe I can help others or just heal myself.
I've been pondering the whole "what could I of done to stop the abuse?", "If I only"......questions a lot lately. I wish I would of told someone back the very first time, it could have been anyone. Not my mom and I don't get why I kept it in so long. Sure being afraid that's #1. But God my life would have been so much different if I told. I knew it was wrong and I wanted it to stop. Yet, I sat by and just let it happen.
I surely didn't enjoy it. It was disgusting, I felt dirty, I cried each time and I tried to keep away from him as much as possible. Yet, I feel like I asked for it by going to his house for visitation with my siblings. Who does that?
Like the time at my birthday party sleep over. I remember me and a girlfriend going upstairs to get ice cream. We walked out of my bedroom and turned to the right and there he was butt naked, hard and scary as hell. He wanted oral sex, IN FRONT of my girlfriend. My mother was right behind the door he was in front of sleeping.
My stomach has knots in it simply thinking back to this, how disgusting it was, how humiliating he was. How vial my life has become. This was normal????? Well it was in my house.
Most of the times he did things to me, fingering, caressing, groping, foundling where when my mom was sleeping in the home or his girlfriend was in the home as well. This man had no fear. Yet I was paralyzed in my own fear.
I am going to totally step out on a limb here, get graphic and get real. There is no reason not to. Other than fear and complete humiliation that I am doing so. But there is always a save button or a delete button if I decide its too much.
On New Years Eve 1991, the first event I vividly remember. Which to this day I can remember the smell of the home, the warmth I felt, the fear, the way my body shut down.
My step father Wayne for whatever reason, decided that night that being his step daughter was not enough. I guess I owed him more, or he needed more he wasn't getting or he really was just sick.
My mother worked grave yard shift for Conoco and as she was getting ready to leave I remember begging her, crying and pleading for her to stay home. Part of me was scared she would get killed with all the gas station robberies we were hearing about prior to that night. And I always wonder with how upset I was if maybe the abuse had been going on already but I don't remember it prior.
Anyways she left regardless. I sat on the couch and was watching the New Years Eve celebration on TV and my step dads friend was drunk and passed out on the couch next to me. My stepfather was a heavy drinker and always reeked of alcohol that was the norm.
I don't remember the time or anything, just him coming out of his room and saying something along the lines of "hey wanna come watch the ball drop in my room". Now looking back 20 years later. I should of said no. (That right there, is guilt #1, if only I didn't. But call it naive or whatever you want I did.)
I went into this man bedroom he left the door open so I guess no alarms went off. I layed in his bed and watched some TV.
And this is where I need to pause for a few. The pain in my stomach for the upcoming events is too much.
He climbed into bed and the only parts I remember are that he took my under ware off, he started kissing me, touching me, and then asked me "Do you know what horny means?" of course at 10 I said no. Does any 10 year old even know? He proceeded with "Well let me show you" He then started to lick me vaginal area and perform oral sex and fingering me.
I don't remember liking it, or anything I remember crying asking him to please stop. He didn't. At one point I freaked out. I jumped out and ran into the bathroom I locked the door and sat sobbing. He came to the door and told me to open it. I refused and here is guilt trip #2. ( He didn't break down the door or anything he just sat outside the door, so if I would have really made no a no in the bed. He might of listened, so maybe I did allow it. Just saying no once and crying wasn't firm. If he didn't break down the door or go crazy on me, then it couldn't of been much worse in the bedroom. I could of screamed and maybe his friend would of came in, again I didn't stop it)
I am not sure how long I sat there, but at one point I opened the door and he wasn't there so I ran down to the basement and jumped into bed with the covers tightly over my face.
He did come back down. I still remember the way it felt to hear his footsteps down the hall. He came in and asked me what I was doing I told him I was tired and didn't feel good. He touched my back and left.
I never saw the ball drop on New Years 1991, instead my life was changed. I still HATE New Years to this day. Screw a New Year and all that crap. All it does is make my stomach hurt.
That was a paradigm shifting moment for me. My thinking and view of the world changed drastically.
It didn't end there. The demands for oral sex, him exposing himself to me and my friend, him fondling me, making comments about the way my body looked or changed, the times he molested my baby sitter, and hide and seek was never hide and seek. Instead it was a sexual game. Where he would finger you when found.
At one of the visitations to his house with his girlfriend one weekend. I took a bath with my little sister who was 9 years younger than me. So she was roughly 5 if that at the time. But I locked the bathroom bathroom door and took a bath with her. While in the bath he came home from where ever he had been and knocked on the bathroom door. I told him we were taking a bath, at which point he started pounding on the door, demanding I unlock it. I kept repeating I wasn't dressed we were in the bath.
Now I am not sure why he needed in there so bad I was probably 12 at the time and I don't even bathe my 8 year old. He does it alone it's private. But he continued to pound so I put a towel around me and let him in, I was afraid of him. He was very abusive. He came in, slammed the door behind him and I stood behind the door. He walked over ripped off my towel and told me to get into the bath.
I remember at that time, where I began to hate my body. Whatever my body was doing by changing made me hate it that much worse. I felt like my body was betraying me by attracting him. Although as a grown adult I do NOT see what is attractive to a man that old about a 12 year old girl.
Sorry off track again... I got into the bath and he proceeded to wash my little sister. He came over to my ear and whispered something along the lines of, "look how grown up you are, and your body is getting prettier"
I could of vomited. There starts the self esteem battle within myself. That's where I learned my body was not on my side and I hated myself. A battle at 30years old I am still fighting. He managed to not just molest me, but to make me hate myself.
Night time is when he wanted things, never during the day but I was afraid of the dark up until my late 20's. I hate being alone out and about in the dark even now. I always hid under my covers at night growing up. And his footsteps and the sound of the door opening ment it was time. Usually just fondling, but always heartbreaking.
I am not sure why I decided to let all this out. Probably because this is the hardest for me, and here it's safe. No one here knows me, no one I have to look in the face and wonder what they are thinking. This will all make me be able to do other things, bigger harder things someday.
I hope that by putting this out there and the loving hands of God only good will come of this.
I came across this song I love the lyrics
Ask Me
(Recorded by Amy Grant)
I see her as a little girl, hiding in her room.
She takes another bath and she sprays her mama's perfume.
She tries to wipe away the sent he left behind.
But it haunts her mind.
Now she's this little rag. Nothing more than just a waif.
And she's mopping up his need. She is tired and afraid.
Maybe she'll find a way through these awful years.
To disappear.
Ask me if I think, there's a God up in the Heaven.
Where did He go in the middle of her shame?
Ask me if I think, there's a God up in the Heavens.
I see no mercy and no one down here's naming names.
Nobody's naming names.
Now she's looking in the mirror at a lovely woman face.
No more frightened little girl. Like she's gone without a trace.
But still she leaves a light, burning in the hall.
It's hard to sleep at all.
Now she crawls up in her bed, acting quiet as a mouse.
Deep inside she's listening for a creaking in the house.
But no one's left to harm her. She's finally safe and sound.
There's a peace she's found.
Ask her how she knows, there's a God up in the Heaven.
Where did He go in the middle of her shame?
Ask her how she knows, there's a God up in the Heavens.
She says, His mercy is bringing her life again.
Ask me how I know, there's a God up in the Heaven.
Where did He go in the middle of her shame?
Ask me how I know, there's a God up in the Heavens.
She says, His mercy is bringing her life again.
She's coming to life again.
She's in the middle of her shame.
Ask me how I know.
Ask me how I know.
There's a God up in the Heaven.
