I find I can now talk about the abuse and tell people that my father abused me - but when it comes to the pregnancy and abortion I am still struck dumb. I think people will say - 'OK, now that's too far' and their disbelief of that will mean they decide not to believe the rest.

In reality I have told a few people - my therapist, husband and one very good friend, and a group of old school friends when I had had too much to drink. None of them said what I feared, which makes me suspect that the reluctance to talk about it has the same root as my reluctance to talk about the abuse - and that is I do not want to believe it. I do not want to accept it. Yet I know it is true.

You are very brave. I agree that it is important we speak out - if we don't break the taboos who will? The important thing with the interview is to be confident in what you know, dismiss any doubts that come from the memories being fragmentary. Don't be drawn into details - they may cause more distress than necessary. It might actually help if you distance yourself from what you are saying - not dissociate, but distance. Imagine it is someone else saying these things - someone you trust utterly and completely. And remember you can stop the interview if you want to

People are beginning to listen. This can only be good news in the long run. We have to keep them listening and drown out the crap from the abusers and their protectors who would have us shut up again.

Be really really kind to yourself over the weekend and after the interview.

Hugs

That's exactly what came to my mind:"ok, now that's too far", who would believe me, sounds like a remake of Rosemary's baby etc...
To the point I have not been able to tell my son,a police inspector, nor his wife, an educator.I think my main fear is that people will think i am crazy and this is precisely what my father threatened me with if I spoke."They will call you the crazy one with cats".

When I met with my old school friend, she immediately raised the subject and it seemed obvious to her" it "had happened to me.She even said I should make it public , my family were so insane, she said.
I have noticed i have changed from calling it the"event" to the "abortion".I am becoming more and more aware of the subtle mind manipulation that my father and mother exerted on me.they made me feel guilty for what they had to do, as if I had been a participant in their crime.And I believed them.
nine months after my birth, my mother had twins.I had become her "replacement, a kind of birth control device.I saw myself as the silent expiatory victim, who took on the sins of the family and my father's craziness.
So much crap from generations of incest mixed with sickening perverted bigotry.
i am very grateful for your prompt answer and sound advice.I have already sent the journalist some comments about traumatic memory so that she realises what she has to deal with and I have prepared some written notesin case I blank out.

.Bring on the chocolate, Breaking!And let us all have some.

Actually, I didn't tell my old school friends on that drunken night, one of them asked how/when it had stopped and then somehow guessed I'd got pregnant.

Interesting about the language - I still often say what 'happened' to me as a child rather than being specific.

I've sent you a PM.

I have that same feeling of thinking I won't be believed because of who my perpetrator was, and because she was female.

TRIGGER WARNING

I used to worry myself to death fearing that my perpetrator would get pregnant. She was a grown woman and as a teenager I certainly could have gotten her pregnant. We never used any type of birth control. Looking back, it's almost as if she were trying to get pregnant from some of the practices we engaged in. I wonder if impregnation is somehow part of the molester's desires?

I do have all those probs you mentioned and was very dissociated for a long time i was pregnant by one of my perpetrators.

But about being pregnant from your perpetrator when you're a child as i was.I was 13...I describe it like this for those who do not get it.

Think Stephen King horror novel where your body is implanted with a live alien being that you DO NOT WANT living in your body.Against your own will and there's nothing you can do about....HORRIFIC like a science fiction torturous horror novel.

Unomas, your comment helps me a lot to verbalise"it".I am very grateful .You are right on mark when you mentionStephen king.Thank you for your courage.

For me, the experience and conspiracy of denial is very close to the film "Rosemary's baby".

Silence has to be broken.Hardly anyone can speak about it, in France nor abroad;I suspect a lot of women have birried it in very powerful dissociation in order to survive that extreme trauma.
Please,please, come forward,we cannot let other generations be slaughtered as we have been.

___________trigger________

I was 12 the first time.I could not formulate it, only that me, the hairy evil creature was going to give birth to a kind of cat like monster.
I put all my shame on my hair which I was pulling out all the time.
Having been abused all my childhood by several perpetrators confirmed in my child's eyes that I must be truly evil.
Added to that That my father, brought up within a schysophrenic nazi ideology, had me believe I had the" devil "in me, litterally.

.The other children at the church and my brothers at home sent me the same message by their rejection and comments, without mentionning my mother"look at what shit you've put us in'"was her on going hint.

Eveything became twisted.My parents became the holy ones who had to "clean up the mess".my mother became the courageous one who had to help out my father in his" deeds" to erase the proofs of my evil , sex addicted perverse nature.

In the early sixties, abortion was a crime in France.one could go to prison;Rich women went to Switzerland, the majority got secret addresses of "angels's makers" they were called, who would perform in their kitchens.Many young women died from the consequenses, mostly infection.

In our home, the kitchen table became the place.Without too much metaphor, I can now say that I died several times on that kitchen table.The first time, i woke up too early after they anesthesied me with ether.I woke up in total terror , uncapable of understanding, i pretended I was sleeping and just left my body there.

That 12 year old moonface reemerged only when i was 60 because it was now safe to "come out".
The adult in me had to explain to her what had taken place.

Another memory was so gore that i had to close up my perception window within a fraction of a second;it was unbearable.Especially my father's sadistic imposture, making me believe I had the choice between the baby and me, thus implying I was accomplice in the abortion.
_____end trigger___________

I had to learn to detraumatize my inner fragmented parts so that they come to the realisation that they were not rresponsible for what had happened, that my body could now relax and my mind come to ease.That both my father and mother suffered from severe mental illnesses and were unable to feel any empathy nor guilt for what they had done;That, in the end,I was the only one who could reach out to my inner me.
At night, the horror film tends to come back.I am slowly deprogramming it.My inner parts want me to never forget that it happened though, to bear witness.

You are all very brave. Your stories should be heard and people should know the realities in which we live in this world. Big hugs to all of you. The fact that you are (a) still here (b) brave enough to speak up shows what wonderful people you are.

That exactly what it was for me...this living "thing" growing in my against my will....I used to grab a rock and hit my stomach until it was all bruised....the whole pregnancy......And noone cared to talk to me or look at me or ask me anything...i was ignored the whole time and not allowed inside my house anymore...

As a child i did not get the "maternal" feeling men assume we get when we're pregnant...It was the most horrrific experience ever and i made sure i never again was pregnant and never had children.....

I wouldn't put myself through that again even though i understand it as an adult the trauma was too much for me to go through a pregnancy as an adult.....i could not do it.

HUGS.

I still see pregnancy like a horror flick moonface.

I am sorry you went through that too.
I too was in a country that did not allowed abortion....During the whole pregnancy i only saw a doc once and i begged him to give me an bortion...He said "i bring children into this world.I don't kill them".................So in my case i was forced to go through with the pregnancy.


The whole pregnancy i was forced to live outside my home on the barn...When my water broke my father did not take me to the nearest hospital.

He was going snow-skiing on vacation nad did not want to bother.

So he took me to an airport and put me on a plane alone in labour.

When i got to the city he sent me.My older sis took me straight to a hospital (2.5 hour flight btw).

A boy was born and 2 days later died.I remember i saw him alive but i still did not feel that was my child.
I did feel sorry fo it.(Yeah i call it "it" cause tha is the way as a 13 year old saw it.Like a puppy.

2 days later the call me to identify the dead body.They told me he had died because of something to do with his lungs...water in them or something.The nurses said that.

But the Doc which was the same Doc Dr Kazem ( i remember) tha had not wanted to give me an abortion said to me "You did huh? you killed him"..............


But what really gets to me.Is that my sisters now who were all older than me then and who ignored my screams, cries and pleads about not wanting to be a mother, or a wife, or a woman, or anyone's girlfriend..........

I wanted to be a gymnast and noone heard me.With me scrreaming in front of them.

TODAY they say that was "nothing"..That my father did not do anything wrong, ect,ect....stuff that i better stop repeating because it makes understand why people kill.

I sometimes wonder if that child died because i was put on a plane with an already broken water and in labour...

If so then my father is guilty of murder through neglect.

I so wish i could press charges for evething.Abuse, neglect, and murder of an innocent child.I still do not think of him as my child.

I think of him as another child victim like i was...There was not only one but two child victims of these monsters in the story.One was 13 the other a new born.One was lucky enough to die and the 13 year old lived wishing she had died the rest of her life.

Yes we have to speak out.

Recently a 14 year old killed her new born and they are giving her life.

I understand her.And she should not be tried as an adult.Its unconscionable and sooo unfair.

So the fucker is not only a child molester but a murderer..It was not his child though..(long ass gory story).

BTW.

Want to make clear that i would not have hurted a baby even back then or condoning that 14 year old actions...But a child can NOT have a child.

They do not truly comprehend motherhood and they should not be forced into motherhood.Its for a child a horrific thing to go through.

Our perpetrators were very skilled at mental manipulation, making us believe we were the guilty ones, when they were criminals.
It is important to reestablish the truth;My siblings were unable to look at it and went into heavy denial

and self destruction.
As one of the consequences,i had several miscarriages and was unable to have a child with my husband but had a son from a previous relationship.My husband raised him as his child.It is interesting to see that he chose to become a police inspector .

Predators can detect vulnerable preys and thus we can get abused by different abusers, which can reinforce that wrong concept in our childhood that it was all our fault.

A lot could be said too about "family" doctors who shut their eyes and work at preserving the family's "proper" image.

You managed to stay alive.You can now heal that young girl in you who had to go through all this unheard.
Speaking heals.
Our voices count.
They will add up and consciousness will be raised.
Hugs.

Its very important that people speak out.

I know for some is hard.but when they are ready.
Society encourages silence still now.