So much changed for me...that day. Forced sodomy is the most degrading and humiliating thing I have ever experienced. My father wanted to feel powerful and for me to feel helpless and powerless. It worked.
I became the family laughing stock. It's like everybody knew and no one cared. I was the family joke. I was humiliated and embarrassed beyond belief. It felt like I had been publicly sodomized.
I've often felt like a cat with nine lives...and that day I lost one of them. I became puny and completely insignificant.
I grabbed onto my pain......it was all I could cling to. The pain became my only friend....the only thing I could connect to....the only thing not actively mocking me. I disconnected.
It made matters worse, to be raped while listening to my mother and siblings laughing and talking so close, so nearby. How could a mere ceiling wall...be such a barrier between two diverse worlds? How could my father be sodomizing me, violently, within earshot of the family? My father was embolden, brazen...he took torturing me to a whole new level. It felt very public, very shameful....like he was punishing me in a public square.
I wore no chains, but I more certainly became imprisoned that day.
I remember looking at the front door, eight feet away from me in the family living room...and I could not leave. I knew that I could never leave. My chains were invisible, but oh, they surely were there.
I feel that I could have stood there, openly sobbing in the living room, amongst family...and my fate would not have changed.
I lost all hope....and kept all the feelings locked away, inside, till it was safe...till I found someone who wouldn't mock me, or find me invisible.
I still feel tormented. Yea, I know, I just verbalized it today. I think that was the hardest and longest I've cried in an hour....and I'm still wounded.
Sometimes I think therapy is nothing but a bandaid on a gushing wound..but it definitely helped staunch the flow.
I will never be who I was before that day. Every life has moments, events, days that forever change us....this is one of mine.
My remembrances get ....more intimate, intense and painful....but I must be much stronger then I was when I started down healing road.
These memory feelings...are somewhat horrendous. Somehow, someway, I'll manage to make peace with them. Till then I shall lay very low and stay out of incoming traffic. I won't make excuses or let anyone give me grief for not being more active, social or put-together. I know how heavy the clouds...I know I shall be standing in this rain....for quite sometime. I give myself....permission to heal..which means...I have to feel. I don't think I could shutter these feelings away if I wanted to. They are quite strong.
I can see how my everyday life has been effected, even with just this one memory. It's huge in scope and depth. I'll write about it when able. I'll continue to talk about it in therapy as needed. It's a big one. It forever changed my life, how I feel about myself...and how I perceive that others look at me.
Hmmm, memories used to be these short snippets that once spoken, disappeared. Now, these newer memories are heavy, emotionally laden, intense and extensive.
Never thought I'd be at such a place....where, with help, I could somewhat calmly, examine each memory, each facet and garnish knowledge and wisdom.
I reclaim myself, one piece at a time.
Truly, I cannot fathom a job more unpleasant, treacherous and painful. To heal, I have to reexperience events that overwhelmed me in the first place. Healing is not for the meek or weak. Only a warrior....I am a mighty brave warrior.
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