a question and answer forum.....for the time being. All things change and become something else if there is growth even Olde Baggs.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

"Sexual abuse is like a bullet that's never been removed."

This is the quote for this week's posting.

I have known people all my life, some of them are relatives and they don't have a clue that I was "shot and wounded" almost 57 years ago. Those that I have shared my truth with reacted with total disbelief. "You, but you're one of the funniest, happiest people I know????". So, if I had been morose and maudlin would that have made it more true?

And after all of these years, of course the bullet hole has closed over the wound and I am healed....or has it and am I?

Most of the time the little door that holds the secret back where the bullet lives is closed and matches it's surrounding tissue. Which makes it invisible to all. Most of the time the wound is deep enough that I can actually just go about my daily activities and not be aware of the ache. But then something, someone, some object, some way the sun shines, some way the boards creak in the hallway, some mood swing and I am aware that I still have the pain inside of me. Hearing people talk about my parents, seeing my siblings, are all very painful and reactive times.

Most of what I feel now is not remembered pain, it is reflected pain. I have worked out enough of the ugly and foul and discolored that the pain is not the putrid color it was but is softer, the edges are more rounded, the heat is less intense, the revulsion is less gripping and the color has faded but it is still there and very real. I know it will never just go away, I can still hold out hope that it will continue to diminish and become less painful. After all, I have only had this wound for almost 6 decades.

My abuse was twofold. My father's sexual assaults and my mother's putting on her blinders and ignoring it. That's the first way. The second is how they then raised me, with the elephant in the middle of the room and then their "deep concern" for my well being and over reaction which was just another control issue. I was bad, I was the guilty one, I was the imperfect one, I was the one with the bullet hole that not one other human being acknowledged was real or even existed.

I repressed the memories for decades. Even as an adult when I finally had the flashes of what had really happened, I felt I was wrong...how could this have been real? But all along there had been this pain, this thing that was causing me pain. This thing I had no idea how to get to or for that matter get rid of. The pain became so intense that I could not longer deal with it, when after my mother's death, I was asked to care for my father. Not only had I been shot, I began to bleed my life out in front of my own eyes, my husband, my grown daughter and my granddaughter.

I did the dutiful daughter thing again (even in the face of what I was beginning to realize) and my husband and I moved in with the man who helped shoot me. It was four of the most hellacious months of my life. Every thing brought glaring flashbacks, terrible memories, horrible visions and hellacious gut wrenching dreams. At that time I did what was the only thing I knew to do, I found him a managed care facility and moved him out. A couple of days before he was to go, he tried to molest my granddaughter. 

I am glad that we had no handgun here. I would be in prison and he would have also had a bullet in him. But that was the day I began to heal. The day I let myself seek help and solice and peace. The day I washed my hands of being my parent's child and became my own child. 

You all know how much I love my grands, I had to learn to love me along with them and became a grandmother in love. But.............the bullet stills exists.

These are the other bloggers on this subject today:



  1. I'm so sorry that you had to endure this ... but it's wonderful that you have survived it and now you have such a great man in your life and such grand grands... those are the memories that you need to concentrate on and remember...I know, easier said than done...

  2. Our stories shed light into the darkest corners. Thank you for being strong enough to share. Look forward to more of your writing :)

  3. Wow, thank you for putting it out there. I am happy to see how our personal stories have unfolded around a unifying quote - yet, how similar they are. I hold your hand, I'm with you in this pain - and I will write again and again to get rid of my own pain, and to help you and others to rid of theirs - while you, with your writing, are helping me. Thank you again.

  4. Thank you for sharing, thank you for caring and thank you for being the grandparent that was willing to be there for a child...bless you for it!

  5. My dad's brothers and sisters tried to put me into the position of taking care of my dad when he reached his 60's and was trying to get on Social Security. That is when I sat down and wrote a Dear Family Members letter and mailed to first my brother and sister and a week later to each of my dad's brothers and sisters, all 10 of them. I told them that I would not be taking care of my dad. I also told them why - he sexually abused me for at least 6 years that I have memories of from age 11-17. That letter was the beginning of taking my personal power back from my abuser.

    I can feel your pain. Thanks for sharing this post.

  6. I can't imagine what you went through. How horrifying it was. Nor how incredibly angry you must have felt over what he tried with your granddaughter. I am sure I would have felt the same way.

    But what I do know is that people are not born monsters, they become that at the hand of someone else. At some point in his life someone did some greviously wrong thing to make him what he was.

    As hard as it is, the only way you will ever truly heal is try to find it deep within yourself to forgive him.

    I am glad you survived!

    Hugs, Kelly

  7. Such a huge burden to carry for so many years. It would be very hard to not be angry and resentful....and vengeful...Telling your story is the first step to easing your burden. Don't let him get away with it.....

  8. I had a "funny uncle" and that incident colors my life to this day. I can't begin to imagine how having the abuser be your own father affected your life. All I know is that you have triumphed and I am very impressed by your strength and courage.


You are always welcome to comment on my thoughts and I love them all......