My First Writing

Effects

I think I am still affected by the abuse because I have never been able to loose weight. I feel safe this size. I never have to worry about people, men, staring at me like they did when I was younger. I developed so young that I remember always being stared at and commented on about how young and pretty I was, and as I got older that scared me. So I feel insulated and protected being overweight.

Now I feel lost because I think I want to work on loosing the weight but I seem to always be sabotaging myself. And it only recently occurred to me that the reason I may always do that is that I am still afraid. That I need the protection still and maybe the only way to do this is to deal with the past. Because of this I feel very little self worth most of the time. I have failed so many times at loosing the weight, that now the struggle is that much worse.

I think I still carry the fear of people getting to close because of what happened, I think that at times I crave having people around me, but at the same time there is a limit to how close I let them get. My weight seems to obsess me, and the pain that I feel not to be able to do things with my granddaughter, let alone the actual physical pains from arthritis and so forth.

I don't know yet what strengths I have developed because of the abuse. I don't ever remember making a choice to survive ... I just did. Back in 1963 there was never anything said about abuse. I never knew what it was until I was college age. I don't know now why I never told my parents. I guess the only strength I can think of is my ability to endure a lot of trauma in my life without going crazy. Maybe that is flexibility, I really don't know. I don't consider myself very self- sufficient, maybe that is just semantics. But I need people around me, I don't like being by myself. But I can persevere with the best of them! Maybe not to get things done that need doing, but if I start something I will finish it and I can endure a lot of trouble because I know it won't last forever. Maybe that is a direct result of having survived the abuse!







Coping

I think I have learned to cope by being able to space out. Whenever things get to difficult I can just leave, whether it is for minutes or hours. And I think when the abuse occurred I just didn't know what it was, that it was bad, or something I had to hide so I really have no memory of what it took to cope then. I don't know if that is the first time I spaced out or not. I do remember always getting remarks on my report card from teachers that I was a day dreamer. Always staring out the window … lost in thought. Maybe that is what that was all about, I really don't know yet.

But I do know now that my eating was and is a way that I cope. I remember now, making the conscious choice that if I was not "shapely" I would be safe. And when my husband was in the Air Force, I know that eating was a way to comfort myself in his absence. So some where eating became a way to cope with unhappiness. I am not sure how to honor what I did, whether the honoring comes from the surviving, or from how I coped, but neither to me, took very much honor. Strength maybe, but honoring what I did, doesn't make much sense yet.







What happened to me

I remember so little of that one night. I put it so far away then, that it is very hard to come up with details now. I remember being on my parents boat on a yacht club cruise in the summer. We did that a lot, but my brother and I were usually left with my grandparents, I don't know why we were there for this cruise, maybe there was no one to take care of us for the whole weekend. It was night and I was asleep, I can only assume that my brother was there, I don't remember, but I know my parents were not. He woke me up and told me to get up and be very quiet so we didn't wake anyone. There were lights from outside, shining through the windows, but none on in our boat. The boat was set up so that my brother and I slept in the forward bunk, and my parents, on the dinette table in the main part of the cabin. When I got up he was not any taller than I was, I do remember thinking that. I didn't even know him well, he was just one of my parents friends. I was in pajamas but don't remember them except that they were two piece. He started just rubbing my chest from the outside of my pajamas, and then the only memory I have now, of what happened next, was that it was hurting. I think he was putting his finger/s up inside me but I don't know. I don't know how or why it stopped, or how much further it went. I don't know if I ever will. I know that all the people there that weekend were drinking heavily. They always did. All of us kids were pretty much left to ourselves. I don't even remember being afraid then, or the next day. It just happened and then it was over. I was always uncomfortable around him afterwards, but he never ever tried anything after that one time. Almost like HE didn't remember what he had done, that maybe he was too drunk himself, to remember.







Where I am now

Now I think I am in crisis. I am unable to function at the simplest of tasks, I am obsessed with remembering and being able to deal with this. I thought it was all over years ago, until I got the book and started reading. Now I can't sleep, I am having night panic attacks with no memory of the ending or details of the abuse. I am seeking professional help next week, in an attempt to unlock the memories, and be able to continue the journey towards health and happiness. I want to be able to loose the weight, and still feel safe! All I know now is that I cry all the time, I don't sleep, and I feel life spinning totally out of control!!

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Email: richmonds@mindsync.com