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Re: Update Pfinstegg

Posted by antigua on May 27, 2004, at 16:50:42

In reply to Re: Update Pfinstegg, posted by Pfinstegg on May 26, 2004, at 23:04:08

I'd like a little cheese and crackers w/that wine please... It really would be nice to talk to people who actually understand what you're talking about. That's what I love about babble. I hate the pity look I get from people who know, because they just don't understand--no, they can't understand.

Daisy, you said you were 11 years old. My heart breaks for you; I have an 11-year-old daughter and if anyone came near her I would absolutely kill them. I would have no qualms about it. She is my joy, in that I look at her and know that while she may grow up w/problems of her own, she is basically very well adjusted. She has a great father and a great relationship w/him; our home is actually very normal, something that I've worked hard to create, although I didn't ever know what that meant.

I was abused at a younger age, from about 4 years old to 9, I think. I have sensory memories--smells, tastes and sounds--that hit me hard at times. They're disgusting to me, and I can't escape them. He@@, they'd be gross to anyone.

My awareness of what happened to me didn't start to actively emerge until after my father died. There were certain things I already knew, but I never had thought much about them, or thought that they were really wrong. Strange,isn't it? I think it took having kids to start to see the difference. Actually, it started to get really hard when my daughter approached the age I was when it all began.

I'm glad my father is dead. I can't face my mother. I act like the perfect daughter for her but inside I'm screaming "Where were you? Why didn't you stop him. How could you not know??" I probably won't ever confront my mother because I don't want to and I don't think it would ever do me any good because she would deny it. I think she was abused as a child too.

I know that some of you journal/write, but I can't do that. It's way too personal. I can't really explain it, but to put it on paper makes it more real, and it also defines it in words in a way that can never be erased. Or changed. I don't know why that's so important to me. I have written about it some and given it to a therapist or two, but the agony of being accurate is too limiting for me. It is some of my best writing ever, though, but maybe it's just too close right now.

I guess I have to accept that the evil girl is part of me. I don't think I need her, but I'll give my T a chance.

Will this ever be over? I have a great life, and as someone said in one of the threads above, I have a great life in spite of what happened--I have a great husband who really loves me, three well-adjusted kids, a good career, a master's degree, a house, etc., etc. and all I can do is focus on this. I always thought my childhood made me stronger than most--I had to work hard to survive, but now I'm not sure the cost has been worth it. Not right now.

I don't want to be a victim and I don't want to be a survivor. I just want to be me.




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poster:antigua thread:350498