This is from one of my aunts. She sent me this in January and commented on my blog.
This is from one of my aunts. She sent me this in January and commented on my blog.
This one is slowed down.
My project that marked the end of one part of my therapy. There isn’t sound.
I am working on something really neat. I am very excited about it and can’t wait to share it.
I have been listening to a song that had the lyrics of, “Once you go great, you never go good. Never go back, even if you could.” It explains exactly how I feel. Once I get past this, I am never going back.
To be truthful, it is so hard sometimes. It is so hard to see the brightness in the darkness. It is so hard to see that little twinkle of hope when you are drowning in the sea of sadness. It is hard to see the top when you are sinking into the inky blackness.
Something that I learned last week when I was in therapy is that God is the light. I was talking about everything I lost and how I felt about it. I lost who God was. My rapist used God to control me. He told me that because he asked for forgiveness I had to forgive him. I would, but it never stopped. It was a cycle and my idea of who God was tied into that.
Another thing I lost was myself. One time there was a man from my church that came up to me and started telling me that I needed to get my life in order. That I needed to repent for my sins. I was 15, my only sin was reading John Grisham. However, being the person that I was, I would spend hours trying to atone for the fact that someone I considered family, wouldn’t stop touching me. It had nothing to do with that he COULDN’T. He didn’t want to, in fact, he REFUSED to stop. Being the person I was, I thought that it was me. I wrapped my identity up in HIS sick fantasy.
I was stuck. I was drowning. I was slowly dying. I shut down emotionally. My family never could figure out why I didn’t get as attached to them as I should have been. My thoughts, “Why would I?” In that situation, everyone had a choice. He chose to hurt me, my mom chose to cover it up, my ‘sister’ chose to stay with him, and I chose to leave.
If leaving meant that I could live and staying meant that I would die (whether physically or spiritually) I would leave all over again. I am so not sorry that I left.
My family has to go to bed every night laying their heads on their pillows KNOWING what they did to me. Family is forever, just not mine. My ‘sister’ has to lay her head on her pillow while she lays next to him wondering if he is cheating on her. She has to wonder every day if he is raping their daughters, that are now at the age that he likes. My mom has to lay her head down at night knowing that she is a horrible mother and that she will have to answer one day about not protecting me. He has to lay there wondering when the police are coming, because they are going to come. It might not be today, or tomorrow, but he will mess up. Even if he never goes to jail, he has to answer to God. He may have been able to groom my family, but you can’t groom God. You can’t even hide your deepest secret from God. God will give me justice.
The more I go through therapy, the more I can see the ripples of the effects that their negativity had on me. Today, I break the cycle. Today, they stop having an effect on me. Tonight, when I lay my head on my pillow what I will be thinking about is my real forever family. I will be thinking about my wonderful husband and how I want to make him proud, how I love and respect him so much. I will be thinking about my cat-Chinny. I will be thinking about how bright my future is.
In 2000, we were put in foster care and 3 years later we were adopted. We were adopted May 15, 2003. It was the worst day of my life. I didn’t want to be adopted. Everyone knew it, but no one said anything. I was only 11, so I didn’t really have a say in if I got adopted or not.
Every year, from 2003 until last year, I dreaded May 15th. This year it passed and I didn’t even think about it. It was this morning before I even realized I had forgotten the anniversary. I count this as a HUGE step for me.
Today, I realized I have started thinking about the future. I have been taking care of my husband and myself. I haven’t had a nightmare in weeks. I have been doing good. I discovered a new hobby. I have been painting. I should post some of my pictures on here for readers to see. I am not very good at it, but I am having a blast.
I am also pursuing a self- publishing author career. I have always wanted to be an author.
Things are looking up for me. I am so happy about getting better.
In my therapy, we are talking about things that I lost when I was raped and the way that my parents responded. A few of the recurring themes of things that I lost were: love, family, respect, self worth, self esteem, protection and freedom. Then I had a very profound thought. I thought that if my uncle could have had such a negative impact on me, what kind of positive impact could he have had? I counted him as a friend and trusted him. Going through this therapy, I see that I had seen him as a father figure. So, if he had not molested and raped me, what kind of impact could he have had on me? It was a very sobering thought. One that is sad because he will have to go before God and answer for that.
Another part of my therapy was that I had to write my responses to my rape. These were subconscious and conscious things that I did as survival responses to try to protect myself. A few of those were: I started avoiding him, I started sleeping lighter, I felt that if he didn’t molest me he would do it to my sisters, I struggled with hating him, and I was confused about why he would do this. Admittedly, I have about six pages of these responses. Once I got to writing, I didn’t stop for a long time. It was only then that I realized how bad I truly felt about myself.
Both of these parts of therapy went together. My response and what I lost were just so profound to me. I started sleeping lighter meant that I lost protection and safety. So many of my responses led to the loss of self worth and self respect. I lost so much of my self image from what he and my parents did to me. He raped me and my parents took his side, so why did I even matter? I didn’t even know that I felt like that about myself. It made me cry because I learned that in the 22 years on this planet, I never once loved myself.
Looking at what I lost and how I felt myself, just shows me just how much God loved me. When I started college, a few weeks after being raped, I was confused and hated myself. I blamed myself for a married man’s, my uncle’s, indiscretion, as my parents called it. I met someone and fell in love. Turns out that even though I hated myself and felt like I didn’t truly deserve happiness, God was working to put this man and I together. We elope and he is my hero. He doesn’t know it, but he is showing me how to love myself. People say that you can’t love others without loving yourself, not so for me. I love others and learn to love myself. God placed us together because He knew we belonged together.
I lost my family, but I gained great in-laws. Not many women can say they love their mother-in-laws, but I LOVE mine. This past Christmas she and I had a heart to heart. It was an amazing experience for me because she listened to me and cried with me. I had a mother that cared about how I felt and that desired to pray with me. I treasure that memory in my heart. That is just a tidbit of the relationship we have. I often tell my husband that I am jealous that he grew up in such a loving family. Then I remember that I am part of that family now and it makes me feel good. I know that God orchestrated that, because she very well could have hated me. She didn’t, and I think it was because of God.
I have a biological mother and for reasons beyond her control, we were separated after 8 years. Then I was put in a foster home and adopted after 3 years. That mother was really hard to live under. I made the joke the other day that if I could survive my adoptive mother, I could survive anything. Then it struck me that that was just what I have been doing, surviving. I don’t want to just survive, I want to thrive. There is a woman that became my mentor in college. I consider her to be my mom even though she isn’t. I love her like she was my mother. We talk all the time and she is such an encouragement to me. I know that God had a hand in putting us together because I made the joke once that she couldn’t have birthed a girl more like her than I am. We just clicked and for 4 years now, I am crying so much I can barely write it, she has been like a mom to me. Today she told me something that made me cry for hours, she said, “My husband and I wish we had been blessed with you as a daughter.” Even writing that makes me cry happy tears. After living in a family for ten years feeling like I wasn’t really wanted or fit in for a woman that I love to say that just boosted my self confidence so high.
It just humbled me that even though I felt so bad about myself and was blinded by the veil of betrayal, God was looking out for me. He was placing special people in my life that would show me that even though my family threw me aside like last night’s was cloth, He was putting a loving, caring family in my life that would support and love me. I had to grieve what I lost to be able to appreciate what I have now even more. So, the tears I cry now are not for what I lost, but for what I gained.