A long pause.....

A VERY long pause.........

I never used my childhood as an excuse for any problems or shortcomings I've experienced in my life. When starting this blog, I wanted healing. I wanted others to see and hear that life gets better and being branded as a broken child is all bullshit. I wanted me to be ok. Ok for myself and my family. 

A few years after starting this blog, I found myself in front of my computer screen. Watching and listening to a woman I had never met. My then spouse was summing up my childhood with her. I don't recall much of anything that was said, other than what the woman said to me after asking to speak with me in private. "Wendy if this is something you ever want to do, call me."

The woman was an attorney for childhood sexual abuse. She was someone who I was told would help me take another step in the healing process. I am grateful that this woman was compassionate and intelligent enough to sense how I was feeling. Hearing the words "you deserve to take us on a cruise, you deserve to take the kids to Disneyland."  How is that going to make me feel better about myself? What I deserve is a good night's sleep. What I deserve is peace and love. What I deserve is to forget. How would taking money from someone help me heal? Thank you again to this unknown woman for seeing what was happening. 

My point of this post today is to tell you, the healing has to be for YOU. And YOU only. The journey will benefit others. But, if you keep focused on you, the ones benefiting will be the ones who need it and deserve it. 

This past year, my father passed away. Alot of emotions with that process. Maybe a post in the future with more details. Maybe not. Let me tell you, life is good. The healing I've had the past 15 months has been amazing. No outside pressure. No outside opinions. No outside force feeding the hate and anger. Remember, everything is going to be ok. 

Just breathe.................

To my children, T, F, B, and K, you are all a part of me.  I hope you will always be able to find a piece of me within yourselves. I could never have imagine life would be so good being a mom.  I know sometimes you have wondered if I had lost my mind, but sometimes you need to let go and live in the moment.  Do something crazy. I will always protect you with every ounce of strength and power I have. Always remember to be good to not only to each other, but to yourself.  I love you to the moon and back a million times!

Fighting for my life

We all have our heroes right? The ones we look up to and even those we truly wish to become one day.

My hero has always been Wonder Woman. Strong, powerful woman. Destroys the evil of the universe. I remember finding out that she was just a character played by Lynda Carter. I was heartbroken. But owning a Wonder Woman cape, I was determined to still become her. I watched every episode. I watched reruns over and over. One day, she would save me from my ugly world.

Wonder Woman never happened. Jumping off the table, and falling from trees over and over, I never could figure out the flying thing.

I think she feeds me. I think she keeps me going and wanting to bring justice to so many. Always more victims. Which brings me more anger. A gun. I bought a gun. To protect my children. It use to make me feel uneasy. But now I feel powerful. I won't let anyone harm my family or any innocent child. I also bought a gun to protect myself from the people who are going to want me to disappear. More and more people are finding what horrible things happened in the Glathar homes. More victims coming forward. They will be exposed. And they will be held accountable for their heinous cowardly crimes. Watch out, Wonder Woman is coming to get you.

At some point you just have to let go of what you thought should happen.

Does it ever go away? The pain, the anger, the shame, the hate. No. Never. And if someone tells you differently, they are a liar. My past has ruined me. Trying to overcome it has slowly destroyed me. I call myself a survivor. But that is false. Unless you consider the fact that I'm still breathing.

Where do I go from here? I have no clue. I live in a world full of artificial promises and dreams. Manipulation. My wife and kids make me feel of worth. Loved.  Needed. Wanted. And for those reasons, I am still here. Feeling. Breathing. Writing.

My purpose has been lost in the everyday chaos of life. My hopes gradually sinking in the depths of regret. How do you preform CPR on a soul?

If I fail, he has won.

Hello darkness; my old friend.

I feel like I'm in a very dark cave. Almost claustrophobic.  I talk out loud to my children. Then pause to write a few words. The only company I have is the ticking of the clock. Getting louder and louder, I want to throw something at it. But then I worry I will be left alone.

These past 3 1/2 months have been rather difficult. I feel like I've taken 100 steps backwards. I haven't felt this so abandoned for so long. Wait, abandoned is not the right word. My parents and some other family members have made me feel like I'm the last person who is chosen to be on a team. Like "oh shit, is there anyone else?" Family event. Me and my wife and our children had been planning on attending for months. A joyous occasion. Less than 48 hours prior to the event, concern was brought to my attention that perhaps my abuser and other abusers from my dad's family would be attending.  What? No way. That can't be an option. Would they really do that to me? Yes. They did do that to me.

At this very minute I feel like the most unloved person that has ever taken a breath. I have been strong. I thought I had conquered the shame and the anger. But here I am. I am tired. Every ounce of me feels the exhaustion.  I am no good to anyone in this condition.

Holidays. Fuck the holidays. Do they bring me happiness? A bit. Sometimes. My wife will tell you I'm Jekyll and Hyde. Honestly she will tell you that is more common than not. Few lines from the song:

There's just so much goddamn weight on my shoulders.
All I'm trying to do is live my motherfucking life.
Supposed to be happy, but I'm only getting colder.
Wear a smile on my face, but there's a demon inside.

Oh, yo, yo, there's a demon inside.
Oh, yo, yo. Just like Jekyll and Hyde.
Oh, yo, yo, all this anger inside.
Oh, yo, yo, I feel like Jekyll and Hyde.

HELLO, my name is Normal

I started this post on July 7, 2014. For whatever reason, I didn't publish it. I was about to delete it and then realized this was just as important as any of my other posts. Important to me.  I was meant to post this.

It's been awhile.....but still here.  All of it.

It seems that these past 6+ months have bombarded most everything in my life.  A medical issue has forcefully given me plenty of thinking time.  And talk about feeling every emotion.  At first I was so angry and a bit scared. Here I am 40 years old and I can't help to wonder........is this karma?  Is this all the years I've been wanted to be done with life, happening?  Ahh....probably not. So get up and suck it up:)

I find it very interesting that as day to day life goes on, I still find myself sifting through my thoughts and feelings about my past.  I am still searching for things to help me try to understand my childhood.  Perhaps the search is hopeless.  Although I truly feel I have made alot of progress, I feel like this is really a lifelong sentence.  All it takes is a TV show, news article or someones stupid comments that gets me in a rage.  Paul from the Big C describes it perfect.  "Flip the Switch." Although he is talking about change, positive change, it also is a good example of how quickly and fiercely my mood can change. Given the right ingredients, it can all go to hell.  Just as it has done so many times over the years.    

Now today, a year and a half later.  I have neglected my sweet little Wendy Sue. I tend to keep myself too busy. Family, work, pets and even dumb time wasting things. I need to make time for her. So..here I am. Letting her help me express my thoughts and allowing me get back to a simple child's mind.

I have had the pleasure of reconnecting with two of my cousins who were a huge part of my childhood life. The circumstances weren't the most joyous, but it enabled us to become part of each other's lives again. It's a good feeling.

A few weeks ago I was feeling all mighty and powerful. I shared a post on Facebook about Utah being the state with the highest reported sexual abuse cases. Did you catch that? Reported cases. So many many unreported cases. Many people like me. Struggling just to survive in this crazy world for so many years without help.  I felt good about the post. Bringing awareness to the problem. That's where my cousins come into the picture. I was told about the horrible things that had also happened to them. Talk about a stab in the heart. Pull the knife out, and stab me again. The two same fuckers...my dad's dad and youngest brother. I also found out an additional brother was abusing family members. And, other members of my dad's family knew what was happening and did nothing to stop it. In fact, my dad's brother in law ( LDS bishop at the time) knew full well what had happened to at least 2 of my cousins and approved and supported my dad's youngest brother to serve an LDS mission. Disregarding everything that was told to him. As you can imagine, my blood boiled. I was beyond angry. I still am. To hear ANOTHER family member share their pain with me put me in anger overdrive.

I remember years ago, sitting in church and a lady was speaking of our life before we were born. Not really giving a shit about what she had to say, I was just letting my mind wonder to other things.  I can only tell you one thing she said. Something on the lines of this:  we chose our own trials. WTF?  We chose what we thought we could handle. Ok, at first I was thinking want an idiot.  Seriously, I chose this? Was I on crack at the time?  Then I convinced myself I did choose to be sexually abused. Only so my loved ones would be spared. That was bullshit. I obviously don't belief this at all. But I did at one point. I wish it were the case. But as you know, I now know of 6 family members besides me that were sexually abused as children.

So what do I do now?  I need a plan.  I'm not just going to let it go and move on. I need to make my Wendy Sue proud. I need to do it for her and for the other victims whom I dearly love.

Just like my health issue, it will always be there. Staying dormant until for whatever reason it decides to remind me it is there, so is my past. So is my little innocent Wendy Sue.

“Don't judge yourself by what others did to you.” ― C. Kennedy

Wow!  It's been almost a year since I have written.  I can come up with a list to help justify the length of time, but why?  Life is busy and chaotic for anyone who is living.  But what is boils down to is I have been trying to live each day without my past being the present.  The past several years have been ridiculously difficult.  And no doubt my soul needed a break from it all.  But I have tried, and many times succeeded feeling like I am.....normal.

Normal?  What is normal?  Sadly, the more I talk with people, the more I read, being sexually abused is so common.  Way too common.  Normal?  Hell No!  But, I can see how it's possible to feel abnormal by not having sexual abuse part of your life.  Either you are a victim, or you know someone who is or has been.  Am I not right?  This world is so full of abuse.  It's sickening how many people I can think of right this very minute that have gone through the same pain and fear I've experienced.  Sure, I feel victorious most of the time.  But this shit is always a part of you.  I have always felt so lucky for the wonderful supportive people I have in my life.  I am surrounded by people who love me and who truly care about me.

40 years of life is quickly approaching for me.  Am I scared? A little bit.  I look in the mirror and I no longer see the 25 year old version of me. It kinda sucks!  But on a more positive note, I'm still here, making good memories!
     

"You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself"

Alan Alda...Who doesn't love that man?  He was wonderful in M.A.S.H. and how could you not just adore him in The Big C?  He is a guy that should be everyone's dad.  At least that's what I have created him as in my mind.  Through his various characters and personalities he has become the father icon for me.  Hollywood does that to us.

I have started this post about a dozen times.  I would write some, few days later write more, let a day or two pass then I would send it to the trash can.  Over and over again.  I couldn't express what I was feeling.  I was lost as to how I could once again let you in my head and try to understand me.  Today I am trying.

I have now experienced what I think to be the emotional web of sexual abuse.  I have felt it all.  I have allowed my mind and my body to let go and feel everything.  Some things are still rather difficult for me to feel, others not so much.  The one feeling I was so afraid of feeling, being called a liar, having someone not believe me, that was terrifying.  But guess what?  It didn't even phase me.  I mean yeah I was pissed that I had opened up to someone who I thought I could trust, and someone I thought was a decent human being.  I was angry for being called a liar.  But, you know what?  I don't even like this person.  Not even a little bit.  Perhaps I felt it easier to force myself to like him because of my relationship with my partner. Regardless, it hasn't slowed down my progress.  In fact I think I should be thanking him for being such an ass hole.  Because of him and his stupidity, I am no longer afraid of anyone questioning me.

So where do I go from here?  I am on the journey of building a relationship with my mother.  This is something that has been really good for me.  The anger is gone.  The hurt is becoming distant.  I never knew it was possible to be where I am today. I still go crazy and do stupid things.  The weather makes it rather difficult for me to be too destructive outside, so my bedroom wall has taken a beating. But it will be fixed.  One day.  Like me.

One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night. - Margaret Mead

Mother's Day always stirs up emotions for me.  I get emotional over my children.  Even through the fighting between themselves of trying to make mommy happy for the day, I  can see how they all need me.  But on the flip side of the coin, I struggle with my feelings towards my mother.

I remember Mother's day as a child.  Me and my siblings would all pitch in to help with dinner.  Then we would give her gifts that we didn't pick out, but were just handed to us.  As I got older, I do remember having a say in what we gave her.  As an adult. "going in" on a big gift together with my siblings seemed to mean more to me.  Making my mom diner was always something I enjoyed doing for her.

Things have changed.  I look back at my life and wonder where things went so bad.  I try so hard to remember my mother helping me with homework, reading with me, even hugging me.  I don't recall any of this and I keep telling myself that I must wrong.  But no matter how hard I try, it's not there.

Just like I have ached to have a relationship with My Wendy Sue, I have also had the same hunger for a mommy.  I want my mom.  I want her to care enough about me to want to make things better.  I want her to stop wondering what I'm doing and to really really care.  I don't want the conversations that always lead up to why I am so angry.  I want her to understand.  I want her to be patient with me and just love me damn it!  I will never be able to comprehend how she has let things get to this point.  I'm feeling like I don't have a mother who cares for her child.  

This is who I am.

This picture was posted on OAASIS: Oregon Abuse Advocates and Survivors In Service.

It's not who you are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not.

For the past few months I have felt alot of different emotions.  Talk about a roller coaster.  I have kept most of my thoughts and feelings to myself.  For a couple of reasons.  First, I don't want to feel like everyone's worry.  I don't want to be treated like some fragile person. The last thing I want from anyone is worry.  This is all stuff that I've put in my own head.  There is nothing that anyone is doing that makes me feel this way.  I'm being treated the same as usual.  But it's just something I'm paranoid about.  Might sound so silly to you, but I worry about others worrying about me.  Which increases my stress and anxiety.  And then in turn gets me emotionally riled inside. Viscous cycle, this mind of mine!  Second, everything is going well around me.  Life is continually changing.  Change is good. It brings adventure. I don't want to rain on anyone's parade.  I don't want to be the downer in the group.  Once again, this is all me.  I have never felt like anyone has this attitude towards me, but for some reason, it's there.  I just think most days I rather just not talk about it, than to let it turn my whole day upside down.  And everyone else's for that matter.

But, today is the day.  Instead of talking to myself, which I frequently do, I am going to write about it.  I'm hoping that by doing so, I may find some peace with some of these crazy emotions.  Please don't judge me....don't think I'm crazy.....don't try to get me committed somewhere.

Going through recovery has obviously helped me more than I ever thought was possible.  But it has also been way more difficult than I could have ever imagined.  I've said before, sometimes I rather feel nothing, no emotions at all, than to feel some of the things I feel.  But it doesn't work that way, and I am still learning methods of dealing with such emotions.  I have learned that my brain is one messed up organ.  The brain is  the most complex of all organs.  With so many functions and duties, something is bound to go awry.  I think that victims of any kind have obvious issues from the traumatic events. But I am starting to believe that certain events cause your brain to work overtime.  My brain is in overload. It's got too many things going. The more I read, and the more I search for help, the more I am understanding why I feel certain things.

I'll just be blunt.....I feel like I am a fragment of me.  I feel like because of being sexually abused, half of my soul was taken from me.  I feel like I will never be a whole person.  There will always be pieces of me missing.  Can I really help my Wendy Sue.  Do I really know how to? How can I ever get better or become whole when I feel like only half of me exists?  If you drop a glass and it shatters, you gather the pieces and pray to God that no one notices the glue. But, how can you put it back together when a few pieces have come up missing? It will never be a glass again.  Well, maybe.  But not one that will hold water. That's a good comparison.  My missing pieces are making me feel like I am never going to heal.  But do I know how it feels to be whole? And not only that, but can I be of any good for anyone?  Can someone so broken really really make another person happy?  Am I capable of being a lifelong partner?  How can I, Wendy, complete anyone else?

I've asked myself a million times what exactly am I hoping and wanting to get out of my recovery.  My answer is always to just make it go away.  Leave my mind.  But that is never going to happen and I need to figure out a way to get past that! Maybe if I knew what it felt like to be a normal child, I would long for that feeling.  All I know is the adult that has tried so long and hard to cope with what had happened. Some days I feel like the world is caving in.  I want to be strong.  I want to be the survivor that I write about.

My chest is tight.  I'm getting too worked up.  This is my brains way of telling me I'm done for now.  I need to go find my diet coke.

To wish you were someone else is to waste the person you are.

Picture it...(yes, my favorite words of Estelle Getty) Alone, sitting at the computer, looking out the window...tapping my foot to the song Williamstown.  I am at peace. Right at this very moment, the only thing I would change would be having my partner home.  She has been gone since Sunday morning.  It has seemed like an eternity. But I have had alot of time to myself, and alot of time to put things back into perspective.

Awhile back I was reading some comments in a support group I belong to.  I always find it funny that no one ever uses their real name.  Always a screen name that keeps their identity hidden.  If you read my profile, my name is there.  You will also find where I live, and some of my interests.  Anyway, my point is, I'm not hiding.  This particular person, whom I'm assuming is male because if his screen name being "CrockHunter2" had absolutely no personal info listed. He sure has balls to say what's on his mind, but where are they in the end?  Hiding like a little baby behind a made up name.  Hmmm....

His post started off just fine.  Talking about people he knew that had been abused as children.  He seemed harmless.  His post made me feel like he knew of these people rather than really knowing them.  He used the two words "I think" alot!  Anyway, as I was reading along I came to a line that totally came out of nowhere!  He said "People who have been abused will always have evil inside of them."  Huh? I was thinking to myself, what a nut job.  I went to close the page but out of extreme curiosity of what other stupid things CrockHunter2 could possibly say I kept reading.  To sum up his thoughts, he believes that when anyone is sexually abused, they too become evil.  The abuser basically passes on some of his evilness.  

Now, I do believe that some evil resides in us all.  Hence the show Snapped.  But I don't believe that abusers "pass" on evil.  He went on to say that sexually abused victims become one of many things.  I'm going by memory, but basically this was his list. Victims become:

     Abusers 

     Addicts

     Violent

     Suicidal

     Incarcerated

So his list contained about 10-12 items.  The above 5 stuck out the most to me.  Lets just go in order here.  I know that behavior is learned.  People who are abusive in any manner have usually been around it or lived through it.  Do you agree?  You know Joe Blow.  He smacks around his wife. Joe Jr. is being taught it's ok to have this kind of behavior.  So, when Joe Jr. loses his cool later on in life, yep you guessed it.  Same goes for all kinds of abuse.  Now the thing that really really pushed me over the edge was his comment that all victims who have been sexually abused will at least think about doing it themselves.  Most at least experiment. WTF? Really. So as you can imagine, I was really wanting to rip this guys head off through the computer screen!  But remember, he's hiding.  I can honestly say that I know many people who have been sexually abused and his "facts" are not totally correct.  Don't put us all in the same category. You and I both know that it is highly likely that an abuser was once a victim.  But remember, you have to be accountable and take responsibility for your own actions.  Being a victim does not get you a free pass!  

Pull 10 addicts from a street corner.  Tell me, are all 10 victims? Probably of some kind.  My personal experience is that all I ever wanted was for it to just go away.  After a few beers, I can't make my mind even think of it.  Duh I'm going to drink.  And yes the alcohol went along with suicide. Whoop dee do!  Am I an addict?  No.  Am I suicidal?  No.  Of course victims think of killing themselves.  Look what has happened to them!  I would never wish it upon my worst enemy.  Yes, there will always be a part of my that is dead.  Lost forever.  But that doesn't mean the rest of me isn't worth living for.  

I have never been arrested.  I have never done anything that would even get me there.  I'm not sure I agree with this one at all.  It would be interesting though to find out the statistics on this one.  

I know you're wondering where I am going with all of this rambling. What started out as a simple entry has gotten out of control.  Let me sum up how I'm feeling right now.  Go back to the beginning.  "To wish you were someone else is to waste the person you are."  I think of the person I could have become because of being sexually abused.  It scares me.  But I think I have done pretty damn good.  I know I can't take all the credit, I have alot of support in my life.  I used to wish I was living someone else's life.  Everyone's life was better than mine.  I didn't want to be Wendy anymore.  But sitting here tonight, I am happy to be me.  I am who I want to be.  I am content. Perhaps the most content I'v been in a really long time.  "Whatever the child can survive, the adult can heal." I'm feeling it.  My little Wendy Sue is a fighter, and because of her, I am seeing the light at the end of my tunnel.   

      

Childhood is what you spend the rest of your life trying to overcome

Aahhhh...one of my favorite movies......Hope Floats.  Just a line in a script for some, but for me, those few word sum it all up.  Just something you have to accept, buck up, and deal with it.

It's been a week and a half since I've taken the next step in recovery. I have reported the abuse.  Talking with the officer was very difficult. He was very nice, and told me a Detective would be calling me. Hmmm.....still waiting.  I don't have much faith in our justice system, even less in Lehi Police Department.  The few encounters I have had with them have left me feeling like it's just better to get something done yourself. I guess we will see if they ever call me back :(

My sleeping sucks!  The nightmares have been only about 2-3 times a week now.  But when I have them they are so crazy and upsetting. They have involved my partner and my kids which gets me extremely upset.  I hate the way my dreams make me feel.  I not only lose much needed sleep, but also my carefree happy thoughts.  I have tried medication to help knock me out.  Listen, I should have never trusted the former game show host with this herbal sleeping aid.  "E" for effort though.  I can't remember the last time I slept all night.  I want to wake up feeling refreshed and having a clear mind.  Instead, I fight my body to surrender itself to the overwhelming tiredness it feels.  My mind is always filled with thoughts of resentment and anger.  What does one do?

The past is not the past, it is still ruining my life.

The past few months have been very chaotic.  We bought a house and moved.  Far away.  Very small town.  I have had no time to think about my past.  But just like most horror movies, the nightmare has returned.  Being busy may have kept me from thinking about it, but now it is taking over my sleep.  For the past 3 weeks I have been remembering my dreams.  Something I rarely do.  Maybe once a month and only bits and pieces.  But, that has all changed.  The dreams started out as having my dad appear.  The first few nights, (let's call this chapter one) I felt like I was having an average dream.  I looked up, and he was always there.  Watching me. He didn't say anything and wasn't really a part of what was going on in my dream. It made me very upset and I was scared.  When I woke up, I was still upset, but also extremely angry.  He wasn't supposed to be in my dream.  What right does he have to be there?  I hadn't been thinking or talking about the abuse in weeks.  What was going on?

Then chapter two came along.  Now, not only was my dad invading my dreams but now so were other people, including the abuser.  My dad's family all started to appear in my dreams.  I truly believe that the abuse involving my dad's family is more severe than I can imagine.  Something very evil resided in my grandfather.  I will never know what turned him into such a horrific beast.  He deeply disturbed the lives of his children.  I think not only were they all abused as children, but I  also believe the abuse continued through adulthood. Their lack of accountability, and huge lack of protecting their children has resulted in harsh feelings.  I am angry at these people.  So, it was no surprise the rage I felt when I woke up. This all was starting to wear on me.  I was waking up angry and ornery.  And very tired!  Not a good way to be starting the day.

After a few nights of this, things changed.  Chapter three was nothing like the first two chapters.  Although unwanted people were trespassing into my dreams, there was never any communication or physical contact.  Great.....now there was.  The first dream was about my dad's sister.  I was the age I am now.  We were out and about shopping together.  Now this time, I wasn't feeling anger towards her or feeling like she shouldn't be there.  It was very weird.  I remember thinking to myself  "oh this isn't too bad.  It might even be fun".  But then things quickly changed.  My aunt started to come onto me.  OK, sick and disgusting right?  I will spare you the details.  But as you can imagine I was freaking the eff out!  Putting it mildly.  I woke up and it took me awhile to realize I was dreaming and why I was so upset. This ruined my day.  And I think that's when I realized what was happening to me.  Other dreams in this chapter have included talking with my parents.  During one dream I felt like my parents were trying to help me.  We were discussing the abuse and they were asking me questions about it.  I was feeling safe.  I remember feeling like this was what I really needed from my parents. But right as I'm feeling those feelings, I look at my dad and he starts to ask me crazy disgusting questions about the abuse and I realize he's enjoying it.  I woke up upset, but also thinking to myself "not far from the truth".

So last night's dream really made me angry.  I woke up yelling and startled my partner and dogs.  I felt like I couldn't fully wake up.  I was stuck in this dream that I wanted so badly to be out of!  My mom had come to visit me.  Wanted to clear her conscience.  She began yacking away about nothing, and then suddenly she begins to divulge her secrets.  Then as she's telling me, I look over and my dad is there.  Which has now more than just annoyed me.  I kept thinking that she knows I don't want to see him.  Why would she bring him when I specifically asked her not to.  I wasn't listening to what she was saying.  I was only listening to myself.  She obviously caught on. She grabbed me by my arms and started to shout in my face. She was so angry.  And crying.  And then she tells me about the two 1/2 siblings I have.  What?  My dad had fathered two other children.  But they both had developmental problems.  He hid them from me and my siblings.  I kept asking her why and she was yelling "Stay out of it! Stay out of it!"  I was so confused.  She was telling me this stuff, I wasn't confronting her.  And my dad, he just stood there.  A few feet away.  Smiling.  I was so angry at him.  I wanted to kill him.  After sometime, I turned the tables.  I was yelling at my mom.  Asking her how she could stay with my dad.  Asking her what was so wrong with her that she couldn't just walk away from him.  I wanted answers!  But, I wasn't getting any from her.  So once again I woke up yelling and in a rage.

I have been searching for help with all of this.  Maybe it's because it's never out of my head.  No matter how busy I get, it's still there. Perhaps that's the only time I have been allowing myself to think about it.  While I am sleeping.  Although I don't feel like I'm choosing to lose sleep or wake up angry. I'm feeling like I'm losing some control.  I don't like it!

"Don't ever take a fence down until you know the reason it was put up." - G. K. Chesterton

I'm a true believer that everyone and everything serves a purpose. Things happen, people come and go and Whoppers go up 50 cents. Sometimes shit just happens.  Fences.....seriously mine were more like barricades the size of skyscrapers!  But it was my safe place. Letting no one in.  I could be in my own little world and not have to admit the misery I was a slave to.

I have worked hard to tear my fence down.  It's been tough.  Probably because I don't like to just slap on some paint to cover the weathered wood.  Instead, I am one who likes to put on many layers just to make sure the fence is protected.  But it's protecting me.  Does it really need to be protected?  I think I really over did it with the upkeep on my fence.  Should have just let it slowly rot away years ago.  Much easier said than done though.

I have learned that each slat in my fence was put there for a reason. I achieved my goal of keeping everyone out for over 2 decades. Each piece of wood represented my fear.  Tearing down each piece also scared me.  I didn't know what would happen.  Telling my partner was the first step in my recovery.  Once that piece was removed, it seemed to get a bit easier.  You know why?  Because I was filled with her undying support. I can't say this enough...she saved my life.  My soul is truly at peace because of her and her love.  I am the luckiest woman on this planet!

The fear I had telling my youngest brother was different.  I already knew how he was going to react.  I already knew the look he would have on his face. And, I knew what his first words would be.  I was scared for what this could do to him.  I have never wanted to make anyone's life more difficult because of this.  That makes absolutely NO sense.  The only people I want to feel pain and misery are my abusers. But telling him and his wife also increased the feeling of support.  I was beginning to have my own little cheering section!

Talking to my sisters also scared me.  I didn't know what would be behind those boards.  But once again, I feel their support.  And the best part of that section of fence being gone....I have been able to spend time with them and finding out who they really are. My oldest and youngest sisters are like the long lost friends you had a as child. I see both of them differently now. I love to visit with them.  But, I feel their pain and that upsets me. Naturally I just to help them and make things right for them.  But, I also know it's up to them.  

My parents portion of my fence has been very tough.  I see them differently too.  But I've learned it's ok to feel like I do about them. Especially my father.  I am in a space right now that I am just fine if I never see him again.  You may disagree with how I feel, but he is a part of this awful mess.  I can't just close my eyes and pretend everything is ok with him.  It's very far from it.

My kids have also helped in the destruction of my fence.  I want them to see me as the strongest mom ever.  I don't want them to see how weak I can be.  I've always felt like my relationships with my kids have been great.  But just like everyone else, it has changed.  For the good.  I was scared that they would just not want to hear about it.  I worried that they wouldn't want to be involved with my recovery. They are right there in my corner also cheering me on.

Many people and things are helping me tear this fence down and helping me haul it off.  Talking, writing, reading and just simple interactions with people are making this easier and easier. I am very grateful for the wonderful people I have in my life. I must have done something right to have so much support and love from many people who I care deeply about.  

You have to take the first step.  Even if it seems so small at first.  Or perhaps you might feel it could the most difficult thing ever.  But you have to do it.  It took too many years of my life away.  Don't let it take one more day of your life.  Or of your friend's life.  Or of your spouses life.  Or of your sibling's life.  Or of your child's life.

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” Orson Welles

So give me the energy.  Give me the confidence.  Help me dig down deep and find my strength once again.  I can't end my story now. How will I feel in 5 years, 10 years maybe even tomorrow if I let myself just push this back into the never ending hole where it has been infesting my soul for decades?

I have been so busy with other things lately that I am feeling like this is slowly becoming easier to just not think about. Don't get me wrong. It's never completely gone, and there are times my rage and angry start to take over again.  I hate feeling like I'm no longer heading in the right direction.. I'm just at a halt.  Hanging out at the rest area.  No bueno!

I'm feeling like an....... omelette!

I know it may be a weird thing to compare my feelings to, but it describes the way I've been feeling very well.  Eggs, beaten to death. Throw in some chopped up ham, diced onions, and some sliced peppers.  Turn the heat up.  Grate the cheese to heck.Throw a handful in.  Just when that omelette gets nice and cozy, flip the sucker over.  Then top with a pound of cheese to help weigh it down. Oh and don't forget about the person eating it.  Chomp chomp chomping away.

The sad thing about me feeling this way is that I've done it to myself. I have let my negative thoughts and feelings take over.  Sure, alot is happening right now besides my recovery.  So naturally I am getting overwhelmed and feeling defeated.  I am letting things really wear me down and I don't like it.  I feel like I'm in a space where I can't deal with this crap anymore.  I want it gone!

I haven't been able to talk to anyone yet about what can be done legally.  I'm feeling discouraged about it. I had prepared myself emotionally, but meeting with the officer I had planned didn't work out. So, now I feel like I've taken a huge step backwards.  I don't feel as ready and as confident as before.  In fact, yesterday I told my partner I was done dealing with it.  I no longer wanted to find resolution.  I wanted to walk away from it and somehow have it magically be gone.

Well, guess what?  I woke up this morning and it's all still here.  Good try I guess.

What this all boils down to is that I'm feeling like being abused was no big deal.  Happens all the time. I wanted to tell my story.  I wanted to see some justice.  I wanted this to be stopped.  But I feel like I'm not succeeding.  And that really sucks!

Be sure about something.....................

There are 3 things in this world I know for sure.

1.  Most things in life are not fair.

2.  My partner and kids will always take care of me.

3.  Whopper Wednesday will forever be a good idea.

"Don’t ever try to stop truth. It’s the only thing that can go through a 16-inch armor plate." ~ L. Ron Hubbard

I think Ive always been the type that tries to avoid confrontation.  Ok, wait, maybe not so the past few years.  I used to back down alot. With everything.  I guess you could say I let people walk all over me. But, that just makes me feel weak, so lets not say that.  I don't like to cause problems, I don't like to argue, and I don't like creating or being involved with drama.  I don't have time for these things.  But on occasion, I do have to speak up.  And I think those moments make my partner very nervous.  From the time I get the look on my face, until the first words are spoken.......I know what she'a thinking.  Oh dear God, help us all.

My partner will testify under oath that I do everything possible to avoid any kind of argument with her.  I refuse to let anger take over and end up saying something that I don't mean.  We've all been there.  In my previous relationships, this happened quite often.  I have learned that once something is said, it stays out there forever.  Never leaves you. With that being said, I believe we have got it figured out. Communication.  Calm communication.  Rational communication. Open communication.  It works.  One of us may be angry at the moment, but it's hard to stay angry when we are talking in "nice voices."

This brings me to what I really need to get off my chest.  The anger and fear I'm feeling about confronting my abusers.  My grandfather(I HATE calling him that) is dead.  I know I will never feel any kind of resolution with being sexually abused by him.  I can't confront him.  I can tell him where to go.  I can't flip him off.  I tell myself that he's burning in hell, but I'm not a believer in hell, so that doesn't really do the trick.  I guess one day, maybe I will find the answer.

My uncle is still around.  I've thought about the different ways that I can confront him.  I could write a letter.  But, what would that really do for me?  He will not respond, duh.  He may not even read it.  So tell me what a letter will do?  I don't think anything.  Then there's face to face confrontation.  I'm worried about this one.  I think I'm most afraid of what it will do to me.  I'm not worried about being scared.  I'm scared about being angry.  Do you see what I'm saying?  Even when I start thinking about confronting him, my blood starts to boil.  I'm clenching my jaw.  I feel every muscle in my body become tense.  I want to beat the living shit out of him.  No one will be able to stop me. I have years and years of pain and anger deep inside of me.  Waiting to  explode.  No physical pain could ever come close to where I've been.

To me, this sounds like a good idea.  It will be very healthy for me. But, I don't want to go to jail.  I mean come on, the victim that was sexually abused as a child goes to jail for assault.  The child molester is free.  UGH!  Because of this reality, I won't be throwing any punches.

I am going to take a huge step in my recovery this week.  I am meeting with a police officer on Wednesday.  Although I know this is going to be very difficult for me, I know this is what I need to do. Whatever the outcome, this will be one more step closer to becoming a survivor.  

“Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow away on the boat to New Zealand and start over, do what they always wanted to do but were afraid to try.” ~Richard Bach

You can't honestly tell me that at some point in your life you haven't thought about checking out.  Yes, I'm talking about suicide.  Maybe you haven't thought about doing something crazy, but come on, even just feeling like life is too much at the moment and you want to be gone.  My entire adult life (up until the past few years) I've wanted to die. Not just die, but to kill myself.  I've even gone through the stages of getting things in order.  Cleaning out personal things, where the kids should go, and who should get my belongings.  At the time, I thought I was being responsible.  My ducks were in a row.

Knowing someone that has had these thoughts, or even ended their life, is not the same as being that person. If you have not felt this way ever.....you can't even begin to imagine what it's like. Some days I had to dig so deep inside my soul to find a reason to stay for one more day.  I would lie awake all night, getting little sleep for years fantasizing (yes, that's very disturbing) about the last moments of my life.  In my early adult life, I would spends days on end drinking until I would pass out.  Each time, hoping I wouldn't wake up.  Once again, I felt like I was being responsible because my kids were with their dad, and I was home alone.  Obviously this didn't work.

Later on in life, I made a different plan,  I justified my thoughts by telling myself my kids had many people who love them and I knew they would be taken care of very well.  I had the place picked out, and the time of year that I would do this.  Telling you this is going to help me.  I haven't talked about my plan with any of my many therapists that I've seen over the years.  I am both ashamed and disappointed with myself for being in the dark place that I once was.

I remember the day very well.  I was done.  Spent.  No longer had any desire to live.  I put on some music, Bryan Adams, and traveled to Provo Canyon.  Sun roof open, sunglasses on...if you saw me you would've thought that I was going on a nice Sunday drive.  I headed up to Squaw Peak.  I wasn't nervous at all.  Rather calm.  When I reached the top, I got out of the car and observed the people there. No one could've suspected anything because of my actions.  I looked around, walked to the edge of the peak, and told myself "this is the place."  But that day wasn't the day.  I was determined to wait until late fall.  Just before the first big snow storm.  At the time, being frozen in the ground sounded peaceful.  I would no longer be held hostage to the excruciating pain and anger.  I would feel liberated.

Well, life happens and even though I was still dying inside, I never went back to Squaw Peak. I guess I just kept finding reasons to live. Those thoughts never really escaped me. But I guess you could say, they were put on the back burner.  Sitting here today, I am very grateful that I didn't let the feelings of self loathing, pain, and worthlessness over power me.  I have been able to experience life being happy and the thoughts of suicide are completely gone.  It makes me sad thinking about what used to consume the majority of my thoughts.  I know  there are many people in the world today that have those same thoughts.  I wish I had the magical answer.  But all I can tell you is that there is help, hope and peace out there. I have learned that it's ok to have the thoughts of suicide (not recommending it at all!) as long as you don't act them out or hurt yourself.  When you're having thoughts about suicide, you are allowing the anger for being abused and the anger you have towards the abuser to take over.  Don't let that anger take your life.  We are all filled with incredible strength.  Get angry.  Cry! Let yourself feel every emotion, and then be done with it.  Do what you need to do to release yourself from the anger, pain and sorrow.  Ultimately, if you end your life, you have lost.  And not only have you lost, but the child molester has won.  Don't let the abuser destroy you.  

I chose the above quote because I think it so describes me!  My family and friends have always thought I was crazy.  I didn't "do" the things normal people did.  I didn't ever take the easy road. I mean come on, the spontaneous dangerously unknown is way more appealing.  I've been accused of "being on something" on several occasions.  Funny though....I've always been drug free!  So I guess what it comes down to is that I could've ended my life along time ago. But, what I like and want to believe is that my hunger for adventure kept me alive.  It bought me the time I needed to be able to deal with being sexually abused as a child in a healthy and productive way. Now, I'm not going to change.  I'm not going to mellow out or slow down.  Adventure will ALWAYS be calling my name.  But, now the difference is I am being adventurous with my partner and our kids.   

Statistically, victims of childhood sexual abuse are 13 times more likely to commit suicide.  Also, 43% of victims have thought about or attempted suicide.  *The department of pediatrics and child health 2001 Sept.
Keep in mind, this study was done on young victims, all under the age of 24 years old.  Also, as you can see, the study was done 10 years ago.  I believe the numbers to be higher because victims are not all just healed by age 24.  You must also take in consideration that not all victims ever report or talk about being abused.  Think about this one for a minute....
The typical sex offender molests an average of 117 children, most of whom do not report the offense.
*National Institute of Mental Health
Do the math people!

Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death

I know it's been awhile...but remember what I said.  COMPLETE CONTROL.  I had to slam on the brakes briefly.  Alot has happened in the past few weeks, hell the past month and a half.  Besides this mess, I've also had big changes in my family life.  So, it's easy for me to see how I ended up here weeks later.

I've been dealing with something that I will describe to you as an emotional tug o' war.  Last month my mother finally broke her silence. I received a letter from her.  To sum things up without getting too sappy, she loves me, she's proud of me, and she didn't know what had happened to me.  At first, I was angry with the letter!  I wondered why this simple letter had taken her so long to write.  I was angry that for months I stewed about her not writing me soon after she received my letter.  Let  me remind you, my letter did not contain blame, anger or hate towards my parents.  So, to not immediately hear back from them was highly painful.

For the next few days I thought about her letter.  My anger was now shifting to guilt.  Naturally, I didn't  like the way I was feeling.  Guilt is not a part of my treatment.  The only guilt that I want to allow myself to feel is the guilt I have for my little Wendy Sue.  I guess you could say I was feeling guilty that my mom was upset.  That she was having a hard time with this, and was very emotional.  The grapevine "spoke" to me and informed me  that this was all taking a huge toll on her.  So, I decided that I needed to wait until I could get back into my survivor mode.  After 2 weeks, I wrote her back.  I told her what my partner and I had been up to, as well as our kids.

I felt good about it.  I had responded.  I didn't ignore it.  I didn't just let it be.  Yea for Wendy!  But, a few weeks later, my doorbell rang.  It was my mother.  I don't really want to go into much detail about her visit. But I will tell you this, I held myself together very well.  I listened to what she had to say without feeling much emotion.  I didn't get upset. I didn't get angry.  We talked about the kids, and then she was gone. I closed the door, sat on the chair and took a deep breath.  I didn't feel guilty.  I felt sadness for her, but not guilt.  What she was feeling was not my fault. For whatever reasons (and I have some ideas) she was now feeling the pain and hurt that victims have no control over.

“Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain” -William Faulkner

Today really sucks!  It blows to feel emotion!

UGH!!! UGH!!! UGH!!!

Some days just have to happen. And, sometimes you just need to say it like it is.  Not worried about having a well written post tonight.

It all started yesterday.  My youngest daughter was chatting with me, and told me she had run into my dad's brother at Costco.  As you can imagine, the feeling I got in my gut was awful.  I asked her some questions, trying to figure out who it was.  She couldn't remember anything other than he said he was my uncle.  So, I let myself get all worked up in fear it was him.  Well, come to find out (through her dad) it was him.  The rage I have felt since this news has been very disturbing.  Over and over I have asked myself how could this have happened.  I'm not doing my job.....protecting my children.  What right does he think he has to talk to them.  To even look at them.  Yeah, I want to do something crazy.  Restraining order.  Threatening visit from me.  Ugh...I feel helpless right now!  How do I get out of this space?  I know I need to move forward with this.  I know it's going to entail a confrontation.  Can I handle it? Can I control the anger I feel right now?  Probably not.  I guess that's why I'm sitting here on my couch rather than in the car heading to his house.  I can't feel like I am doing nothing about it.  I can't live with the fear that this might happen again.  I need to be assured that this will NEVER happen again!  Any suggestions?

Taking care of me.

Have you ever wondered what you would do if you had all the time in the world?  As crazy as this might sound, I have no clue what I would do!  Figuring out your beliefs and values definitely help you become your own self.  But you also need to figure out what you enjoy doing and what fulfills you.

I found it rather difficult to complete the next exercise.  Picture having no responsibility at all.  No family members to be taking care of or worrying about.  No laundry or dishes to get caught up with.  No yard work or errands to run.  No dogs to feed, let outside, or keep track of.  Nothing.  And no worries about time or money.  What would I do if I had no responsibilities or obligations.  Hmmm.....I would be bored.  I have no idea what I would do.  I was supposed to think of something that I would enjoy doing by myself.  Well, maybe tinkering in the garage.  But even that wouldn't last long.  I enjoy doing alot of things, but always with other people.

I kinda skipped that part.  The way I saw it, I was wasting time trying to make myself think of something.  But, what I found out next was enlightening.  Children who have been sexually abused are more concerned about making the people around them happy than making themselves happy.  I can't speak for other victims, but I know how I felt and sometimes still do.  Pleasing others made me feel valuable and worth while.  What other reason did I have to live for?  I spent countless hours on other people.  Maybe because I was afraid to take care of myself.  I definitely didn't know how to care for myself.

What does it entail to take care of Wendy?  To begin with, subtract 30 years from my life.  What does a 7 year old child need?  Praise and nurturing for starters.  Then of course trust and the feeling of security.  Love, love and more love.  Then.....here comes the self esteem.  Now you can add the 30 years back on.  What do I need today to make sure I'm "feeding" my soul?  Here's the list I came up with, even though I don't do all of them yet.

1. Love yourself (I do believe it's impossible to honestly love others until you have learned to love yourself!)
2. Put your needs first (I'm still trying to figure out what my needs are)
3. Make time for yourself (even though I do make time to do things with others, I find I can't make the time to just be alone)
4. Be in control (Not only of yourself, but of situations around you.  I like to feel like I'm in charge. I think my partner and my kids help to make me feel like I'm in control of things.  Even when I'm really not)
5. Demand respect (From everyone!)

Short list, but rather difficult for me.  I want to love myself.  Some days, I wish I could be that person you want to punch because they are so in love with themselves. Yadda yadda, blah blah, me me me. You know the type I'm talking about.  But that's not really the self love that I want.

I am learning to take control.  Learning to be in charge of me.  I have taken control of being sexually abused.  I am taking control of what I am allowing to happen.  Yes, there are days that I feel are either going in the wrong direction or feeling like things are going too fast for me to deal with emotionally.  But the cool thing is, since I have control of it, I get to slam on the brakes or turn the wheel to stay on the path.

Who the hell am I anyway?

At some point in everyone's life, you have to become your own self. You have to create your own separate identity. Think about it for a moment.  Every child is influenced by their parents. Your parent's beliefs, values, feelings and priorities become a part of who you are. Victims of sexual abuse find it more difficult to have a strong sense of themselves.  I always felt like I needed to live my life as my parents expected me to.  I had many issues with their beliefs, but I didn't believe I was strong enough to stand on my own.  I had to do what my parents and siblings were doing.  I was no longer a person.  I was a member of a "cartel".  That might seem a bit humorous to you, but that's the truth.  I was someone's daughter or sister.  I wasn't Wendy. I never had the courage or strength to become my own person.  In a weird way, much like my abuse, I felt like I just had to deal with it. Yes, I know that being sexually abuse is much more horrific, but I can now see how both controlled parts of me.

Today, I feel like Wendy.

“It is inevitable that some defeat will enter even the most victorious life." Ben Stein

The past several months, I have had the feeling of victory within me. Maybe that's the reason why it's been so difficult for me this past week. I am fully aware of the actuality of defeat. I know it exists and plays a huge role in who we are.

It all started with my previous post. I think the facts about childhood sexual abuse are sure to upset anyone. I get upset. I get angry. I am in a rage right now. To be honest, if it weren't so cold outside, I would be tearing something apart. But instead, I'm working through the anger by writing. Anyway, I have found that when I'm reading about statistics and such, I sometimes feel like "really...I'm ONE out of 39+ million victims." Can you even fathom that number? I sure can't. That number makes me feel microscopic.  I feel that there are so many victims, that what I've lived through, is just a common pot hole in the road.  I know I have to get past this way of thinking.

Yesterday, my partner and I went to lunch with my youngest sister, her husband and their cute little boy.  We had such a great time.  We spent nearly two hours visiting and catching up on life.  Although my abuse was not discussed, I left feeling that my bucket of hope and determination had elevated.  The fact alone that she knows what I'm going through and still wants to have a relationship with me, gives me some comfort.

I know how the human mind works.  The brain is amazing.  I also know that it can be your strongest shield.  I believe it knows what you can handle and what you can't.  One of my exercises was to write down small details of my abuse.  This was very difficult because I don't like remembering things.  I wondered how the heck this could possibly help me.  Yes, I got angry.  Adding each word to my list was gut wrenching.  For the next couple of days, I had the courage to slowly write the words down in my notebook.

After some time, I made a discovery.  The words came easier, and the anger was subsiding.  I was able to read over my entire list.  I felt like a million pounds had been lifted from me.  I WAS HEALING!  Up until this point, I thought I would be living in misery and anger for the rest of my life.  My little Wendy Sue was breaking free.

So, there will always be those days when I feel completely defeated. But I am trying to learn to turn those feelings into feelings of victory.  No one sang it better than June Carter Cash!

There's a dark and troubled side of life.
There's a bright and a sunny side too.
Though we meet the darkness and strife,
The sunny side we also may view.

I guess just like my eggs, I want my days to be sunny side up. Looking upward at the great things that life can bring.  

It's not good news, but we have to face reality.

The reality of childhood sexual abuse is terrifying.  I have chosen to discuss this now because I have an  overwhelming concern for the helpless victims.  Maybe it's because of where I am now and where I have been.

As a child I felt helpless.  I had no one to talk to.  Even if I did I always had the fear that no one would believe me. I grew up thinking and believing that what happened to me was just something I had to live with.  My self esteem was shattered.  I was stuck living the rest of my life in a deep well filled with sorrow.  But now I know differently.  I want everyone to know that there is hope for healing.  If you know someone, anyone, please help them.  If you have ever suspected that you, your child, friend, sibling, significant other or anyone else has ever been sexually abused THEY PROBABLY HAVE!  Here are a few facts for you:

Fact 1.  Today, 95% of child sexual abuse can be prevented.

Fact 2.  Today, living in the U.S., there are over 39 million adults who have survived childhood sexual abuse.

Fact 3.  Today, more than 3 million children living in the U.S. are victims of sexual abuse.  Children struggling alone, believing there is no adult that can help them.
-Child Molestation Research and Prevention Institute

Mucho Support

After posting my last entry, I realized I need to be more clear on a few things.  I am not angry with my entire family.  And when I said family I mean my parents and most of my siblings.  I have an overwhelming support from alot of people.

My partner is my biggest support.  Without her I would still be slowly dying inside.  For as long as I can remember I've told myself I'm checking out at age 40.  I figured by that point I had given enough to this lifes venture.  But of course after we began our life together, my way of thinking changed drastically.  She has done nothing but show her love and support from day one with this mess. I love her with all my heart and will be forever grateful for her.

My kids have also shown a great deal of support to me.  As you can imagine, it was extremely difficult to tell them about being sexually abused.  I'm not the one that usually has the most serious conversations with them.  But, they had to hear it from me.  They got upset, they cried and they got angry.  I hope this recovery process helps to strengthen them and helps them realize they can be strong and take control of every situation that comes their way.  I love each of my kids.  I am so lucky to have them!

My youngest brother and his wife have also played a huge role in my progress.  I feel like my brother is my bodyguard.  He's always made me feel like "don't anyone mess with my sister".  Having them involved has giving me an extra boost of determination.  I know this has been challenging for my brother and his wife because they are a part of my dysfunctional family.  But I think the way I see things now.....we are outcasts.  We are the ones who no longer will live in silence.  I love my brother and his wife.  I feel their love and support 24/7.

My youngest and oldest sister have both voiced their concern about what's happening in my life.  Although I'm not clear where each of them totally stand, my youngest sister seems to be more supportive and worried about my well being.  I have spent some time with her since this all began and she has made me feel comfortable and I feel no judgement from her.  I know we can relate to each other to some extent.  I know in time we will help each other. But for now, I do feel like she is supportive of me.  

My partner's family has also shown alot of love and support to me. They are good people and I love them very much.  I feel very fortunate to be a part of their family.  As crazy as they may seem sometimes, they have shown me how a normal family functions.  I have experienced the loving healthy relationships that happen between parents and their children and between siblings.

As for the rest of my family.....I think they have all written me off. They see me as someone who is disrupting their perfect looking family. Once again, assuming the worst.  But how can I think differently when they don't even bother with a simple "how are you?", "are you ok?", "can I help?"

“The world needs anger. The world often continues to allow evil because it isn't angry enough.” Bede Jarrett

Anger.  How do I deal with all this anger?  The more I read, the more I get choked with anger.  I still have days where it seems to take everything out of me just to breathe.  But they are getting further and further apart.  It's not a good feeling being so angry all the time.  I have overcome the anger that I once felt inside for myself.  But the anger for my parents and abusers have multiplied.  I have also become angry with other members of my family.  I couldn't understand why this was happening.  But then it all came together.  I was not the only one abused.  My family is saturated with secrets.

I have now become the protector of my little Wendy Sue.  I am helping her make peace with the atrocious events of her childhood life.  I have found myself through her.  Yeah, I will always do crazy spontaneous things, but watch out....she is free and wants to live her childhood.  To my partner ....she is going to be a handful for you!

My family has stepped way back from this situation.  I haven't spoken to my parents for quite awhile.  I wrote them a letter telling them about the abuse.  I got right to the point but didn't discuss details.  There was no blame or anger.  Just the facts.  I can only imagine what they are feeling because they haven't written me back.  I'm sad because I assume the worst.  They want nothing to do with me and my life. This makes me very angry because they should have the natural instinct to want to help and to love me no matter what.  I think the anger I have towards them hurts me the most right now.

I have quickly learned that repressing anger is not a good thing. Everyone around me suffers.  I am ornery and very hard to interact with when I'm angry.  But guess what?  Letting the anger take control of you is sometimes a good thing.  I have taken a hammer to several unarmed wooden pallets.  Dealing with my anger constructively or in this case destructively, has allowed my body to release built up emotions.  It feels good.  I have bottled up my anger for many many years.  In a matter of weeks, the bottle had lost its cap, and slowly the contents began to evaporate.  My anger is now turning into determination.  I will no longer be a victim of childhood sexual abuse. I am determined to end this.  The secrets that plague my family will be disclosed.          

Where the blame falls...

The first few chapters of the book were centered around recognizing the abuse as abuse and acknowledging where the blame belongs. First off, I already knew what happened to me was abuse.  There is no way you can look at the horrendous events and think otherwise. Now the blame is a whole different story.  I have never blamed myself for being sexually abused as a child.  This became difficult for me the moment I started to blame my adult self and my parents.  Let me explain my adult self.  That's the Wendy I am now.    The blame I was feeling was for the little girl inside of me.  That little Wendy Sue. That little girl that I didn't protect.  Sure, it'e easier now that I'm an adult to say the things I would do differently.  But that child would never be able to think the way I do now.  She responded the only way a child could have.  Scared and so lost.  I think back at my behavior as a child and wonder how could anyone have not known? Or at least had been suspicious?  This is where the blame I carry shifts to my parents.  How could they have raised me my entire childhood and not know?  My heart tells me they did know.  They just chose to do nothing about it.  I blame them for not only not protecting me, but for allowing the abusers to have access to me.  They put me in harms way.  Not once, not twice, but for most of what should have been called my childhood.  So that leaves me to the blame of the abusers. I blame THEM for what happened to me!  What they did to me was so heinous and so repulsive.  They took my childhood away from me. They forced me to become a victim.  Today I am fighting to become a survivor of being sexually abused by two members of my dad's family.  His father and his youngest brother.

So many tears...

That day started just like any other.  My partner was heading to work and kids were heading to school.  I can't tell you exactly what happened within me.  I started my usual morning routine.  I climbed up on my bed and opened the lap top.  I enjoy reading the news and keeping up with current topics.  As I was scrolling down the news page, a few words came to mind.  Am I ready?  I knew what I was asking  myself.  Obviously some part of my brain was doing some serious thinking.  So, I decided that researching childhood sexual abuse was harmless.  As I scoured the internet for articles and stories my heart began to sink.  I stumbled across a website for adult survivors of childhood sexual abuse.  My eyes were glued to the computer screen.  Those stories....each story....was mine.  The pain, anger and fear from being sexually abused exists in all victims.  What I was feeling was indescribable.  I began to sob uncontrollably.  Right away I  realized that I was ready and I needed help.  Many of the websites had several helpful resources.  Now was the time to make a trip to the book store.

I cried the entire way to my destination.  With books in hand, eyes filled with tears, I approached the clerk.  As she retrieved the books from me, immediately her cheerful "greeting" smile faded away.  I was both embarrassed and humiliated.  She kindly looked at me and explained even though I was a stranger to her, she wished me the best of luck and hoped that I would find happiness and peace.  All I could do was force a meager smile in return.  When I returned home, I plunged into the book.  The next weeks were filled with a collection of many emotions.  I spent the majority of my time reading and completing the tasks the books suggested.      

And so it begins...

I'll start off with a quick history for you.  I am 37 years old.  I have lived in Utah my entire life.  I have 4 children and 1 step-child.  Four years ago I left the only life I had ever know, starting a new relationship with my partner.  I was ready to be happy and to fully experience this thing we call life. I have known my partner since I was 12 years old.  I felt like we had a connection.  Something was always there. But, as adults we went our separate ways.  We then reconnected.  After a brief "dating" period, I knew she was the one.  I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

This time things had to be different.  I could no longer hide behind the walls that I had constructed around myself.  I had to be fully open and honest with her.  So, before things got too serious, I opened my box of secrets.  She needed to know what she was going to have to potentially deal with.  At the time it seemed this would be the most terrible thing I would ever have to do.  It ended up being quite the opposite.  She made me feel safe.  I trusted her 100%.  As we drove around town, I told her that I had been sexually abused as a child. Not going into too much detail, I tearfully crawled over the walls that had surrounded me for the majority of my life.  I gave her a brief history of the abuse and the abusers.  Nearly 4 years would pass before I would take my next step forward.  The next few years we would briefly discuss it, but I felt like she was just checking in with me more than anything.  I have alot of respect for her for being so patient with me.  She never pressured me to talk about the abuse.  I think she knew what she was doing.  I believe she knew I had to be the one to decide what had to be done and when.  I am so grateful for the understanding and love that she has for me.

Recovering from the abuse has been awful and I know I will be recovering for the rest of my life.  But, I have felt the weight of fear and anger lift from me.  I am using this blog as part of my treatment.  Writing has played a huge factor in my success as well as for many sexually abused victims.  Recovering from sexual abuse has empowered me.  It has also inspired me to tell my story in hopes that it helps someone like me.  Someone who wants to be victorious!