The tears have been close today
It started yesterday at church. Hearing a young womans story about her life and the trials she has faced. I cried for her pain.
This months series was "Overcomers" . The message is that God loves us and is beside us throughout all our lives.
We are worthy. You are worthy of gods love. That was my undoing. I cried in church and I cried in the car flooded with memories and emotions.
I am safe here at home. I can hide with my computer and my reading. I drove to see the vocational counselor at TCN and the tears came while I was driving. The pain wants to come out. I am afraid. Its seems the pain is going to be there no matter what I do. When I leave the house it hits me/ When I think about telling my story at church the pain overwhelms me.
The pain weakens me. All my strength is gone when it comes. I am vulnerable. I HATE being vulnerable. That is when I am easily hurt by others. If I want to get through this and stop letting the PTSD control me then I have to embrace my vulnerability. I have to be OK with the tears. I won't get to the empowering anger until I get past the disabling pain.
I was not allowed to express my pain. I was not allowed to be scared, sad, lost I was alone. My father abused me and my mother didn't see. My other relatives didn't see it either. A few teachers sensed something but the were powerless too.
My father told me not to tell anyone what "we" were doing. He did his best to make us co-conspirators. I was convinced at age 9 that I was bad. something must be wrong with me for my father to want to do these things with me. I was convinced that it was my fault. I quit brownies because of feeling that I was so bad. My father told me people would hate me and not believe me. I was so young. children believe their parents. When I took the chance and tried to tell my mom she didn't believe me.
My first memories start around 3 years old. my father would rub his penis on the out lips of my vagina and ejaculate on me. When I tried to tell my mom she said I must have seen her and my dad in bed together.
I was 9 when he took my virginity. It was in the living room on a chaise lounge. My mother was asleep in their bedroom. My father laid on his back, had me straddle him and pulled me down onto is dick. I don't remember after that.
my next memory is when I was 10. I am pretty sure my father had sex with me before he took me to the fire house where my mother had a surprise party for me. I remember feeling that this was wrong because I am not good enough for a party. I am evil and bad. If I weren't evil and bad my father would not do these things to me.
I was sick one day, age 10, and stayed home from school. My father stayed home with me. I tried to stay in my room. My father got drunk. My father beat me in my own bed that day. He beat me because He couldn't get hard. He made me suck his cock. when that didn't work he beat me some more. I somehow convinced him to let me go to the kitchen to get a drink of water and ran out the door. We live about a 1/2 mile from the road and I was terrified he would get in the car and come after me. I ran to my babysitters house across the road. I asked her to call my mom. I remember thinking she has to believe me this time. I vaguely remember talking to the police. I Remember telling my mom that he had been molesting me for a long time. I told her I knew when the condoms were kept and she said I must have seen them there by accident. I Knew then that it didn't matter that I had told her. I ended up staying with my Uncle and Aunt for a while. Childrens services was involved. My mom came to visit me every week. On one of her visits my aunt told her she couldn't take me out because the social worker was coming to see me. My mother took me and hid me at her mothers house. That night she and I left New York state because my mother was afraid that CPS was going to take me away from her. It came out later that y father and his lawyer told my mother that if she didn't take me out of state that I would be taken away from her for good.
The healing tears came as I was writing this. I guess that's a good thing.
This months series was "Overcomers" . The message is that God loves us and is beside us throughout all our lives.
We are worthy. You are worthy of gods love. That was my undoing. I cried in church and I cried in the car flooded with memories and emotions.
I am safe here at home. I can hide with my computer and my reading. I drove to see the vocational counselor at TCN and the tears came while I was driving. The pain wants to come out. I am afraid. Its seems the pain is going to be there no matter what I do. When I leave the house it hits me/ When I think about telling my story at church the pain overwhelms me.
The pain weakens me. All my strength is gone when it comes. I am vulnerable. I HATE being vulnerable. That is when I am easily hurt by others. If I want to get through this and stop letting the PTSD control me then I have to embrace my vulnerability. I have to be OK with the tears. I won't get to the empowering anger until I get past the disabling pain.
I was not allowed to express my pain. I was not allowed to be scared, sad, lost I was alone. My father abused me and my mother didn't see. My other relatives didn't see it either. A few teachers sensed something but the were powerless too.
My father told me not to tell anyone what "we" were doing. He did his best to make us co-conspirators. I was convinced at age 9 that I was bad. something must be wrong with me for my father to want to do these things with me. I was convinced that it was my fault. I quit brownies because of feeling that I was so bad. My father told me people would hate me and not believe me. I was so young. children believe their parents. When I took the chance and tried to tell my mom she didn't believe me.
My first memories start around 3 years old. my father would rub his penis on the out lips of my vagina and ejaculate on me. When I tried to tell my mom she said I must have seen her and my dad in bed together.
I was 9 when he took my virginity. It was in the living room on a chaise lounge. My mother was asleep in their bedroom. My father laid on his back, had me straddle him and pulled me down onto is dick. I don't remember after that.
my next memory is when I was 10. I am pretty sure my father had sex with me before he took me to the fire house where my mother had a surprise party for me. I remember feeling that this was wrong because I am not good enough for a party. I am evil and bad. If I weren't evil and bad my father would not do these things to me.
I was sick one day, age 10, and stayed home from school. My father stayed home with me. I tried to stay in my room. My father got drunk. My father beat me in my own bed that day. He beat me because He couldn't get hard. He made me suck his cock. when that didn't work he beat me some more. I somehow convinced him to let me go to the kitchen to get a drink of water and ran out the door. We live about a 1/2 mile from the road and I was terrified he would get in the car and come after me. I ran to my babysitters house across the road. I asked her to call my mom. I remember thinking she has to believe me this time. I vaguely remember talking to the police. I Remember telling my mom that he had been molesting me for a long time. I told her I knew when the condoms were kept and she said I must have seen them there by accident. I Knew then that it didn't matter that I had told her. I ended up staying with my Uncle and Aunt for a while. Childrens services was involved. My mom came to visit me every week. On one of her visits my aunt told her she couldn't take me out because the social worker was coming to see me. My mother took me and hid me at her mothers house. That night she and I left New York state because my mother was afraid that CPS was going to take me away from her. It came out later that y father and his lawyer told my mother that if she didn't take me out of state that I would be taken away from her for good.
The healing tears came as I was writing this. I guess that's a good thing.
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