My Journey......

I love to surf the web, and one day while I was following some self help links, I came across this image. At first I just sat and stared at it, and then the tears started to fall, and something inside of me realized I was not alone. This image is the image of so many people's lives. This image was a picture of me.

I do not remember where I found it, so I can not give credit to the artist who rendered it, but my heartfelt gratitude goes out to whoever you are. I hope you understand my need to borrow it, and display it here in hopes that it will touch someone, and help them to realize they are not alone.

(7-17-99 Update....I have located the artist of "Unmasked"©, her name is Gail Gastfield, and she has graciously given me permission to use this image. Thank you so much Gail, for your talent, and for allowing me this priviledge.)

Several years ago,during one of the most difficult times in my life, I sketched a similar portrait. Although it was in no way as artistic as this one, the feeling behind it was the same. It was an exercise in art therapy in which we were to draw what we felt. At that time, as in much of my life, I felt exactly like the person in this picture. I have worn that same mask for the biggest part of my life.

It was during that same time that I wrote a poem to go along with the sketch. I would like to share that with you. I hope, in some way, the picture and the poem give you comfort. Sometimes just knowing you are not alone, can help.

The outside shell is but a mask, the face I want to show.
It hides the ugly pain inside, so no one else will know.
I smile when I am angry, I laugh and play along.
And no one ever has a clue, that anything is wrong.
The inside is unhappy, and cries such bitter tears.
But if I keep it all inside, then no one else can hear.
So...push down all those feelings, and never let it show.
Keep all the hurt within yourself, and no one else will know.

.....written while in the hospital, 1995

As I said, that was several years ago, and although I have come so far since then, I am often reminded of the journey to this point in my life. That journey has taught me so much, and even though I have a ways to go, at least I am heading in the right direction. Maybe by sharing some of the struggles, I can help someone else to take that first step. Perhaps then, this will not have been all in vain.

I can't remember exactly when I started "masking" my true feelings, nor do I remember how I learned this behavior, I do however know the "why". At the time, it was merely for survival, a defense against something that was far too painful for my ten year old mind to comprehend. Little did I know, that I would use this "skill" throughout my entire life.

The story below is but an outline of the abuse I suffered over a period years. I hope that by sharing some of my story, others will know that they are not alone. I have learned over the years, it IS possible to overcome the past, and to go on. Scars from abuse, never totally disappear, but with help, you can learn to accept the past. There are many times I have had set backs, and even more times that I made really bad choices in my life, all stemming from the abuse. Each day, I learn more just how deeply the wounds go, and how difficult it is to heal. This part of my site, is part of my healing........

The contents here may contain "triggers" for those of you who have suffered abuse. Please be aware.

Looking back........

It was strange that he asked me to sleep in his bed. Even though my Mother was in the hospital, I felt she would be fine, and I really did not feel particularly upset or concerned. But, I guess it would be okay to sleep there. After all my Dad was away so much, it would be kind of nice to be close to him for a change.

So with this thought , I hopped into the bed, snuggled down under the covers, said my prayers, and prepared to fall asleep.......

At first the embrace felt good, as I said, it wasn't very often that my Dad was at home. Much of my life he was away, overseas, or on duty somewhere else. It was a warm kind of hug, I remember his smell (he always smelled of that same cologne), and I remember thinking how big he was, and how nothing could ever hurt me if he were around......

I don't exactly know at what moment those feelings changed, or precisely what he said that caused me to feel uncomfortable, but I know it came suddenly. I remember, I felt confused. He was holding me so tightly, and his was asking me if I knew the differences in boys and girls.....

Needless to say, at ten years old, this is NOT a conversation a little girl wants to have with her Father, especially at that moment, in that position. I was afraid. I didn't know how to answer him, nor why he was asking such private things. I wanted it to stop. Please God, make this stop!

The conversation continued, and at some point, he decided to "show" me the physical difference. NO DADDY, I don't want to see! I remember thinking, this can not be happening, this is wrong!!! I felt embarrassed, ashamed. How could I ever look at him again? What would my Mother think? I could tell he was not going to stop, and although I did not understand at the time what was happening, he was becoming aroused.

To be in this situation is frightening enough, but when it is compounded with a lack of knowledge, trust me it is just overwhelming. I had never seen a naked male, Nothing he was saying or doing made any sense to me, he was different. I remember feeling trapped and afraid. He began touching me, and as he did, I tried to move away. He pulled me closer and told me that he loved me, and that he wouldn't hurt me......

As this "lesson" continued, I became more and more frightened. He was acting so strange, his breath was short. His words, made no sense to me, I had never heard these things before. They were certainly adult phrases, things I had no business hearing, let alone experiencing. I felt dirty, and ashamed at what he was doing. From this point on, nothing in my life would ever be the same. My innocence was gone, from this point on I became a survivor.

Survival was my foremost thought. When he came into my room, I would pretend to be asleep, hoping he would have pity, and not wake me. I soon found that was a useless ploy. So I faked sickness. Many times, I pretended to hear my sister, or my Mother, and would "warn" him that they were coming. Anything I could do to delay things for one minute. I soon found that nothing worked. So I quickly developed a way to escape the hurt.....I began to disassociate.

Disassociation..is an act of removing yourself from the reality of things. At that time, it was used as a means of survival. It was almost as if I left my body while the abuse was taking place. I can remember feeling as if I was up in the corner of my room, looking down on what was taking place. As the years passed, I became an expert at this tactic, and although it was my means of coping back then, it has caused many problems in later life.......

My abuse spanned a period of over four years. It began when I was ten years old, and continued until I was almost fifteen. It was the single most influential factor of my entire life. Because of it, I have had numerous emotional problems. Some of the problems I have suffered are depression, and anxiety disorder. These are only some of the after affects of abuse.

If you or someone you know are in an abusive situation, please seek help. You are the only one who can save yourself. Reach out, call out......do whatever you have to remove yourself from that environment. It is your only chance of surviving. Listed below are links to sites that offer more information, and places to seek help. You can survive this......I have.