i haven't been here in ages, hadn't really needed to i guess... should have probably come back about a month ago when the memories started surfacing. damn.
the first time i went looking for them. life wasn't making sense and i needed those puzzle pieces so that i could understand things that weren't working well, my body image, my sex life, my intimacy with liam. recovering that memory helped so much.
this time though things were really beautiful. the memories are interfering. i know that means i am ready, that i shouldn't be afraid - but i am - and they are making a mess of my emotions and sanity. i am still abstinent - but food too many times has looked like a solution. food was always my safety addiction so that i didn't mess with my sexual addiction. these memories are messing with my sex life, with my relationship with liam.
surrogate abuser crap is surfacing again and i hate it. he (liam) is gentle and understanding - he's never hurt me knowingly. he is kind and patient. when he was leaning over the fire the other night coaxing it to life again i had the impulse to beat him with the andirons. where the hell did that come from? i told him about it this morning before we made love. it had been weeks. i knew we both needed it, but i just wasn't able to find myself there in both body and spirit. it had been so good before the memories. damn.
i have always known that there were more. being orally raped in a bathroom doesn't explain the panic i have when i am trapped in covers or the way i spread my legs any time any male came near me (tickle fights as a kid were abruptly stopped by the guys when they realized things went from innocent playful to me being submissive). i connected those memories about two months ago. even casual make outs with boys in my teens years were awkwardly ended because i engaged sexually when they were not there - i scared them - and had no idea i had done it.
how does a young girl learn that spreading her legs is the go-to response when a male is near her? damn.
i have no active memories of any full-on rapes. they are currently blocked from my active memory. i do have a memory from my early childhood that plays like a freaky, twin peaks episode in my head. i am laying on a bed - probably six years old - and a seven year old playmate is on top of me, either truly having sex with me - or playing at it - and there is another playmate sitting on the floor - peeking over the edge of the bed - he is an albino boy, son of the friends of my parents - his name was charlie - and i am saying to him "it's okay charlie, we're married." his pink eyes and white hair have been seared into my memory bank.
that's all i have. other than the reoccurring nightmare of my childhood - where i am dorothy from the wizard of oz - and the tin man, lion and scarecrow begin as my friends and then they come at me, my feet trapped in cement and they smother me. i always woke up terrified, freezing and soaked in pee.
lately i have been having conversations around money and my inability to grow up around it. i have a lot of magical thinking around money. i realized that by not working outside the home for the past 14 years having to re-enter the work force has triggered some deep emotions. i am a professional organizer and am really good at it - and while people would want to pay me for my services i would never let them. it always made me feel uncomfortable. i'd rather "god take care of me" or have my dad rescue me with "gift" money - somehow none of that made me uncomfortable - but being paid made me feel dirty.
i was having a conversation about money with someone i deeply respect and i said something about my magical thinking around "god taking care of me" and he got a smirk on his face, a kind one - and i said "yes, i know i need to grow up with money" and he said "i would have never said that out loud, but since you did, yes, that is exactly what i was thinking". it was such a gracious conversation that it allowed me to begin to really think this all through.
i awoke in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago and i was wide awake and very peaceful. i usually would read with a book light until i was tired enough to fall back to sleep, or it was late (5:30 ish) enough to get out of bed - but i just sensed that i was supposed to get up. i went into the living room and stoked the fire and sat on the edge of the footstool and just said "okay god. i'm up. what? i need some clues here about why i can't seem to grow up around money" and it was like a curtain opened. it was there. i knew that i knew that i knew that somehow money was involved in the rapes. i was somehow paid, or hushed with money. and that was why it made me feel so dirty.
i just sat there and wept the most comforted tears. those kind of answers bring me so much healing. i hate that it's true. i hate that it happened. but now i know that i can begin to grow up. and the best part was knowing this time that it wasn't that bastard god who "ordained it" to happen. it was as if i knew that god was witness to the horror, and that he remembers even if i couldn't. and that he has carried them for me, grieving the whole time and waiting for me to be strong enough to carry them myself.
i hate that not only did this person (people) screw with my sex life and body image - but they also screwed with my livelihood and my ability to support myself. i am 44 years old and have never, ever been paid well for anything. i made a lot of money on ebay - but that wasn't for services - only goods. it has damaged me deeply and i am grieving the loss. my family has suffered greatly by having me be so immature and damaged with money. i know that i am stronger than this, and that i will grow up - but for today i am feeling robbed. stolen from - in so many ways. innocence, childhood, finances, intimacy, trust, fear, relationship - the locust have eaten and stripped bare so much of my past.
i know that one day i will not regret it - or wish to shut the door on it - so much of my pain has been redeemed by owning my story and telling it to others. this will be another chapter, but today i am grieving. keening, sitting shiva, and marking the grave.