As I have been very sick lately, I have had many moments to examine how being sexually abused by a neighbor has permeated over and over in everything I do. I have had to submit to medical procedures that have re-traumatized me and this time I choose to speak about it. I will be silent no longer.
I have a photographic memory. If you asked my sister, she would say that I am not putting the film in anymore. I told her that at least I have "same day service' In many ways it is a great gift. In many others it is a curse. One of my best friends was here a few weeks ago. She said that she saw Mary Lou Henner on tv and she is one of 6 people in the world that recall every day of their life. She can remember what day of week it was, what the weather was, etc. Mine is not that extreme. Anyway, Susan said that she realized what my experience must be like. It is like a movie I replay over and over.
I have had this cloud over my head since I was young. I told my mom some of the things that happened but she did not tell my dad. She was afraid that he would kill him. I was 9 years old. Abuse was not
talked about back then. The Priest and the police met at my oldest sister's house so the abuser and his family would not know. I never talked about it for 20 years. My abusers sons also molested my niece.
I would bet that he also abused his sons. The only thing I know that happened was that they moved out of the county.
I have since been in therapy for many years to deal with this. I have had to learn to mourn.. mourn my childhood, my innocence. mourn the life I had always wanted for myself.
I was brutally raped and tortured. I remember being stuck with needles. So when I have to go and have medical procedures, I have to be sedated. I have had to learn to set boundaries, learn to say STOP and NO. I have to CHOOSE each time. It is not easy. When you think about it, most of these procedures you have to be undressed, laying down, I am a very hard stick. 10-20 or more sticks for IV's or get blood drawn. Several times I have ended up in a fetal position screaming for several hours. I've had wonderful Catholic physicians and I have bad doctors too. I had to ask not to see a certain doctor. They gave me to him anyway. I filed a complaint about that. I have a problem with certain drugs that make me violent in a sense. I told them not to give it to me. He said he was giving it to another patient. The Anesthesiologist gave it to me anyway. I contacted his supervisor too. I may seem very angry, but why should I be tortured once again??? I am still connected to that little girl that could NOT SAY NO. It's a way to take care of myself. I had to use my voice. Step by step, note by note!.
I have worked with many teaching hospitals, speaking with the Interns and Nurses so they know how to treat survivors with PTSD. I hope I have made a difference. My life has changed. It is still a daily struggle.
