On a personal note, I’m feeling really heavy today. It really sucks because For the past few weeks, I felt elated, excited, and almost like a new person. How is this possible?
Well, a few months ago, I made a new friend. We were both part of a closed Facebook group and started chatting outside of the group. We found out that we have many like experiences. We both experienced similar types of child abuse and struggled with some of the same issues in our adult lives.
RG and I talked many long hours about our hopes, dreams, fears, etc. Many times we completed each other’s thoughts. I finally felt as if someone knew what it was like to be me. Someone knew how relate to my fears and tears. Someone knew that it was hard to love and be loved. Someone knew what I meant when I said I was broken.
A few months after talking, we decided that we had to meet. The only obstacle was that she lives in Lincolnshire, England. I’m in Florida, USA. That is over 4,000 miles or 7,000 km. But on August 24th she arrived here. And it was as if we had been lifetime friends.
We did the local tourist attractions. We vegged on the sofa. We ate at restaurants, shopped at malls, and anything else that best friends do. For 16 days, I knew what it was like to have a best friend, a sister, and a confidant. She is so caring and compassionate. For those days, I could be a carefree teenager. Laughing, crying, acting stupid, and not having a care in the world.
But the day came when she had to leave. I have to say that since that day, my mood is very low. I miss her so much. I miss that brief time of having a side kick. I miss her picking on me. I miss her losing all of her important things. (And she did that more than once). I miss her laughing at my stupid jokes. I miss us singing Christmas Carols. (Yes, we did that too).
I’m planning a trip to England in April of 2020. But that is a long time from now.
In the meantime, I had to go back to my everyday life and carrying this healing pain and not knowing where to go or what to do with it.
Today in therapy, I was trying to tell Mrs. A about my current dreams and how I feel about one of my abuser’s wife, who I thought was also a victim of my abuse. In retrospect, she had to know. She had to be aware of all the things he did that were not normal adult/child relationship actions and events. I now believe that she sacrificed me to save her own two daughters, who probably would have been his next victims. I was his 3rd victim that I am aware of. The family swept the first two under the rug and forgave him, etc. She knew he was a child molester previously and still allowed me to be alone with him on many, many occasions. How could she do that and sleep at night? Why didn’t any of the other family members ever stick up for me? I think it was so much easier for everyone to have a blind eye than to bring the obvious to light.
Now, I don’t claim any of them as my family, but I do still long for them. It’s stupid, I know. I just wanted to be accepted and loved. I just wanted to have a “normal” family.
Anyway, In the midst of sharing my memories with Mrs. A over the past few months, I’ve lost my desire to blog, speak, write, or be involved in any of the advocacy work that I was doing. I have sort of just separated myself from all of that. Just trying to make it from one therapy session to the next.
I’m in such a weird place. I feel lost. I feel abandoned. I feel desperate. I feel crazy. Most of all, I feel very tired. The long nights with no sleep take their toll after a while.
I’m not sure how to refocus. I’m not sure how to get back my direction and enthusiasm. Life just seems like a chore today.
I wish the world was a ride that you get off of when you are tired of riding. At least sit somewhere and catch your breath until you are ready to ride again.
I so miss the days of being numb. It was so much easier than this healing journey.
I miss my friend. I miss my enthusiasm for speaking out and bringing awareness to this awful thing called child abuse.
Reliving this abuse is worse than the first time around. When you are living it, it is all about survival. I didn’t know that it wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal.
But reliving it is unbearable reminder that this is my story. It did happen to me. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to overcome it.
Until next time – I am being MJ every day.