I'm just curious...I really want a show of hands here. I know this is true for myself, and I knew it's true for some of my girlfriends: Are you telling the whole story? Being me, I have a lot of really badass strong friends (male and female) who have been through some serious shit. I'm talking serious beatings, poverty, verbal abuse, rape....the stuff that's hard to talk about. I feel blessed because, generally, my friends and I feel safe enough to share the horror stories but I've been noticing: there are a lot of dirty details we omit when we talk to certain people. Maybe it's our family, or our boyfriends, or teachers we admire, or certain friends who maybe intimidate us or make us feel just a little bit insecure.
I find myself censoring what I have to get out because I'm afraid of how it will be received and how it will impact the ones I love and the relationships I love (or maybe just don't want to make any worse.) I found out the hard way, a lot of people just can't stomach what my every day life looked like. To them- it sicks them out and that just honestly bums me out and makes me feel like maybe I'm just this dark cloud. Maybe I'm a bummer? But I've learned to acknowledge who can and can't take what I have to say. I say it directly, and openly, and repeatedly: I was sexually abused/raped/molested by my mom. You can take it or leave it. I'm sure you've heard me say it plenty (especially if you read this blog) but I don't think everyone realizes, being able to say that publicly, casually, or among friends is such an amazing, freeing family. I can be honest, I can omit what I want or need to, and I can just let me be me. Whatever that may be today.
That being said, sometimes I don't always feel like I CAN be honest, even with those who may be able to stomach it. There are parts of my story, parts of my past, and parts of my thought process I am not proud of- even if I'm not responsible for the way or the extent to which things happened. It's embarrassing, I don't personally feel good about those things that DID happen, even if I can openly name the generic term that is associated to the act (rape) and I kind of honestly feel trapped by the details.
If I don't talk about the dirty details of my sex life, why in the hell would I admit to the dirty details to my "sex life" as a five year old? What's the art of being direct without being TOO direct? How much can someone else really hear? At what point have you crossed the "TMI" line and why do I have to feel like something that weighs heavy on me and I didn't ask for could ever be "TMI" for anyone around me? It's TOO MUCH INFORMATION for me too!
I was talking to someone once and she mentioned how a near stranger walked in one day and started opening up to her slowly about her childhood and the excessive sexual abuse she had endured from her father. She soon divulged that the first orgasm she ever had was in fact from her dad and she went into some detail about how it felt and how she felt emotionally. The person telling me this story about the stranger then tells me in a "How gross and inappropriate is THAT?!" kind of tone that that was just TMI for her. Now, right off the bat, I can tell you- that story was TMI for ME because most of the time, I can't take any sort of sexual anything being recounted when it's any kind of negative like that. I start feeling triggered and vulnerable and gross. But then I thought, "Hey! What if I wanted to let go of some sort of trying story of mine about something like that. I HAVE STORIES LIKE THAT TO TELL. Would you be grossed out by me? Would you tell my story to some other person and talk about how I unloaded this awful story on you?"
I don't know. Just food for thought. Just what exactly do you omit?
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Being Five
I talk a lot about the things I do for myself and the things Ethan does for me when I'm overwhelmed. I talk about the way I understand myself and the way I take care of myself as though I am proud. In a sense, I guess I am proud. It takes a level of honesty and self awareness to understand what you need in your own time of need. I have to be honest though, I don't like the things that I need. I don't mean to say I don't enjoy the self nurturing or being nurtured by others, but that I hate that I constantly, and probably in moments throughout my life (however far apart they eventually get) feel five. I am a five year old.
When I cry my voice gets mousey, I kick my feet, I hide behind and under things and I revert to this little afraid child who can't handle things that go bump in the night. Why five? Can't I be twelve, or fifteen, or maybe even *gasp*...my age? I'd like to think the people around me view me as responsible and mature but I do not feel mature at all. I treat my friendships and all my falling outs with friends like a child would. "Why don't they like me? Will they come back? I feel so sad and confused. People are stupid." When an adult criticizes me, even with merit, I fall apart. "I'll never amount to anything. I'll never be a grown up. Well, they're just stupid. I'll do what I want. But why don't they like me." I even treat my achievements as a five year old would. "I did this small thing. Why haven't you complimented me? Please look at this small thing I did and praise me! This small thing I did is stupid and doesn't matter. I don't matter."
Maybe these aren't all things typical five year olds say but when I was five- I always felt this way. I don't matter, no one sees me, no matter how hard I try I'll always feel, why don't they like me? I feel afraid and I don't feel comfortable around people.
I'd like to say I'm more high-functioning than the afore-mentioned puddle of a person I can be, and I am...but sometimes I'm just not.
I try to find the root to my problems and flaws, because obviously I don't always want to be a five year old, and I think I've got a handle on this one.
The combination of the age most of my abuse happened (five years old) and my general feelings towards adults and family members greatly affects the mode I revert to when I feel least secure. I feel like I did at the worst time in my life. I find I crave family and parents and general snuggly things more than anyone I know. I try to explain: I love and need gentle unconditional affection. I eat it up! Then I get mad at myself. God dammit! I don't want to "need" anything. Especially CONSTANT affection. And besides, I could get all the affection and acceptance in the world from everyone I know and it still wouldn't be enough. Because these people around me now are not my parents. I don't feel safe and I don't feel quite right because the people who teach you what it is to be loved and to love back broke that bond and so five year old me is still confused, and scared, and overwhelmed and really needs to watch some Little Bear and feel protected from all the scary things that are out there.
I guess I can't be too hard on myself. I don't know one five year old I could look at and say: It's okay to be molested by your mom. No big deal, get over it. Totally normal! Or, it's no big deal your mom tried to commit suicide in front of you for the fifth time this year and that she tried to tell you it was all your fault. That you were just too much to be around so she wanted to end her life. Or, it's okay that your dad says you're always going to come last. That he calls you deceitful and awful and selfish for trying to reach out for help. It's okay that no one has taken care of you and no one ever will. It's okay that you feel alone, and ugly, and ashamed and you're only five. I'd be mortified and you'd be fucking right to think that I would step in and do something about it if I knew someone who went through something like I went through. I suppose a part of me is angry with everyone (which is so beyond unrealistic) for NOT stepping in and rescuing me. The difference it would have made. Always looking for a big rescue....
The funny thing to me is, I used to feel like such an adult, growing up. And I was! Had you met me, you would have thought: Wow, that girl has got it TOGETHER! She's strong, she has a lot on her plate, and she doesn't bat an eye. AND she's loving and patient. Impressive. I don't know if I'm any of those things sometimes.
Maybe it's finally my time to be a regular 5 year old.
When I cry my voice gets mousey, I kick my feet, I hide behind and under things and I revert to this little afraid child who can't handle things that go bump in the night. Why five? Can't I be twelve, or fifteen, or maybe even *gasp*...my age? I'd like to think the people around me view me as responsible and mature but I do not feel mature at all. I treat my friendships and all my falling outs with friends like a child would. "Why don't they like me? Will they come back? I feel so sad and confused. People are stupid." When an adult criticizes me, even with merit, I fall apart. "I'll never amount to anything. I'll never be a grown up. Well, they're just stupid. I'll do what I want. But why don't they like me." I even treat my achievements as a five year old would. "I did this small thing. Why haven't you complimented me? Please look at this small thing I did and praise me! This small thing I did is stupid and doesn't matter. I don't matter."
Maybe these aren't all things typical five year olds say but when I was five- I always felt this way. I don't matter, no one sees me, no matter how hard I try I'll always feel, why don't they like me? I feel afraid and I don't feel comfortable around people.
I'd like to say I'm more high-functioning than the afore-mentioned puddle of a person I can be, and I am...but sometimes I'm just not.
I try to find the root to my problems and flaws, because obviously I don't always want to be a five year old, and I think I've got a handle on this one.
The combination of the age most of my abuse happened (five years old) and my general feelings towards adults and family members greatly affects the mode I revert to when I feel least secure. I feel like I did at the worst time in my life. I find I crave family and parents and general snuggly things more than anyone I know. I try to explain: I love and need gentle unconditional affection. I eat it up! Then I get mad at myself. God dammit! I don't want to "need" anything. Especially CONSTANT affection. And besides, I could get all the affection and acceptance in the world from everyone I know and it still wouldn't be enough. Because these people around me now are not my parents. I don't feel safe and I don't feel quite right because the people who teach you what it is to be loved and to love back broke that bond and so five year old me is still confused, and scared, and overwhelmed and really needs to watch some Little Bear and feel protected from all the scary things that are out there.
I guess I can't be too hard on myself. I don't know one five year old I could look at and say: It's okay to be molested by your mom. No big deal, get over it. Totally normal! Or, it's no big deal your mom tried to commit suicide in front of you for the fifth time this year and that she tried to tell you it was all your fault. That you were just too much to be around so she wanted to end her life. Or, it's okay that your dad says you're always going to come last. That he calls you deceitful and awful and selfish for trying to reach out for help. It's okay that no one has taken care of you and no one ever will. It's okay that you feel alone, and ugly, and ashamed and you're only five. I'd be mortified and you'd be fucking right to think that I would step in and do something about it if I knew someone who went through something like I went through. I suppose a part of me is angry with everyone (which is so beyond unrealistic) for NOT stepping in and rescuing me. The difference it would have made. Always looking for a big rescue....
The funny thing to me is, I used to feel like such an adult, growing up. And I was! Had you met me, you would have thought: Wow, that girl has got it TOGETHER! She's strong, she has a lot on her plate, and she doesn't bat an eye. AND she's loving and patient. Impressive. I don't know if I'm any of those things sometimes.
Maybe it's finally my time to be a regular 5 year old.
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