My dirty little secret.

Today was a very difficult day for me...to follow up a difficult day yesterday. I have not discussed this in this forum because it is intensely private and quite painful. But, I have reached a point in my experience at which I can no longer be silent. I don't know if right now is the best time to write an emotionally charged entry, but I don't have any more to give. I can't go on like this. I feel like people don't know meaning they don't understand what kind of impact an event like this has on those who live it. I just realized that I have not yet said what "the event" is. I was sexually molested. For 2 years. It was horrible. I was young. I was confused. I blamed myself. I knew it happened, but put it in the past and barreled through. Now, it won't let me. I spend my days crying and shaking. When I am not, I am trying to recuperate from what has just transpired. I am literally trying to catch my breath. Sexual abuse of any kind, but especially that of a child, is inexcusable. I tried to forgive. I even thought I had. Despite my father telling me that "he wasn't sure it actually happened," my mother "forgetting" despite my confiding in her and she and my grandmother confronting my grandfather in front of me and my sister STILL saying she doesn't know what to believe...I moved on. I blamed myself. It isn't my blame to take. It is no victim's blame to take. But, I believe that there are far too many of us out there who do. I am one of the "lucky" ones; I have a wonderful psychiatrist who is incredibly sensitive to what I am saying. I have not begun to talk about it in depth until recently. If you know someone who has survived this type of abuse or if you don't...you will. It is important that you understand. I believe it is important that we understand each other the best way we are able. Please allow me to share what I have learned as a "survivor." I have never referred to myself as that before, partially because I am not sure that I have survived it yet. While I will give vague facts about what occurred, the entire story has never been told. Perhaps because I don't think I am willing to admit the whole story and the emotions keep changing... and emotions, my friend, are a significant part of the story. My molestation came at the hand of my paternal grandfather. It happened for 2 years, every weekend when I would visit. My grandmother was my best friend and they lived a short couple of hours away, so my parents would meet them halfway to "hand us over." I loved her. They did not have what I would call an openly affectionate marriage. They slept in 2 large beds that were pushed together to create one gigantic one that doesn't even have a size label. I would end up on my grandfather's side of the bed. While he was "asleep" things would happen. I recall opening my eyes one time and looking at my grandmother who was really asleep at a distance that seemed so far. After 2 years of this happening, and numerous lessons in "if someone touches you...." I told my mom in the kitchen of my grandparents' house. My initial feeling was that it couldn't be wrong, he was my grandfather for goodness sake! But, eventually I told. She immediately told my grandmother and they confronted him in front of me. When he denied it, they were satisfied. Why? I don't know. Why would I lie about something like that? Somehow, it never happened again. Asleep? I guess not. I always knew it had happened, but chose to move on with my life. It was an embarrassing issue and one that they now thought that I had fabricated. In 1991, I had been having nightmares involving him and one night in March my eyes shot from slumber and my body began to shake. I could not get the image nor the feeling out of my mind nor off of my body.
(I will skip much here in the interest of brevity, but suffice it to say that my parents were not what one would hope or even have the lowest expectations of them being.)
I have always fought the feelings. Every time I touched someone, I always worried that I was doing something wrong. I am not talking about an intimate touch, I am talking about a casual one. It is horrible. Somehow, I have been able to date and find a wonderful man with whom I now share my life. We have been married for 5 years. He knew that I had been molested before we married. I don't think he knew how hard it would be. Things have become a lot more difficult and I was recently diagnosed with PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder for those that aren't familiar). I am now suffering debilitating flashbacks and my doctor wants to put me on some anti-psychotic used to treat flashbacks due to PTSD in war veterans. I will not go on it. I do not want any new medication in my body...especially with school beginning in less than a week. She complied, barely satisfied when I agreed to increase my dosage of a medication that I am currently taking. Unfortunately, this medication is a huge reason why I can not get pregnant at this time. Of course, it really doesn't matter when I can't keep from crying when my husband touches me. I really can't handle anyone touching me right now. I told my doc yesterday that I would freak out if she touched me (on the arm or whatever) and I was serious. I don't think she realized how bad it had become until I had a flashback in her office and vomited. I have barreled through, trying to forget and not let it get in my way. But, now it is catching up with me. The horrible man that did this to me, not only hurt me but is now indirectly hurting my husband. While other women I know are getting pregnant and having children, I am fighting the clock and the fear of touch.

If you know someone who has endured sexual abuse, please realize that it didn't end when the abuse stopped. They relive it when they are least prepared to do so. Please do not dismiss it because you are uncomfortable with the topic or don't know what to say. We need you. Our intent is not to make you feel uncomfortable or upset you, but to have someone listen to us and prove that we matter. We didn't matter to our abuser. Those feelings are hard to live with when we relive the agony or the act in our mind. We can't change the past. It is what it is. Please help us make the future positive. Give us the opportunity to share. We need to. We may not be able to tell you everything that happened, my mouth still cannot form the words and my mind can't hold a thought so disturbing in an effort to express it. I am thankful that there are organizations like RAINN (www.rainn.org). I have not use their services, but I am thankful for the necessary attention that they bring to the issue.

Gosh, I want to understand you...please try to understand me. I hurt. We hurt.