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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 15 of 15. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by vwoolf on September 10, 2004, at 14:22:25
There was a dream she often had when she was about five, which would wake her in breathless terror at night, a scary, sweaty, heart-stopping dream which would stay with her for days, clinging to her back like a monkey-shaped rucksack, peering over her shoulder, giving a little monkey-shaped wriggle and giggle every now and then, especially when she went to the park or at night when Daddy came home.
The children often used to play in the park, full of big trees and secret places and a big beautiful smooth pond covered with dark green lotus leaves and their rich, scented, yellow flowers. But the pond was treacherous, deep with unknown currents swirling beneath the smooth smiling surface which reflected the hazy tropical sun and flame trees all around.
Mummy had warned her: “Don’t go near the water, you might slip and the current will pull you down!”
“What was a Current?” she wondered. And then suddenly she knew. It was a giant octopus with long tentacles that would grab her and jerking pull her down, down, into the deep darkness where there was no air, no breath, no life, just a cold watery grave, with her hair and eyes and mouth and throat and stomach all awash. She wished the Current would hurry and let her drown soon, let her curl up and not be, not exist any more.
The park was no longer a place of joy to her. When she went there with her brothers she would lie on the smooth lawn at some distance from the pond and watch it. She was sure that if she watched carefully enough, sooner or later she would see the Current, catch a flash of a tentacle. Then her mother would believe her, instead of telling her to stop being a Booby.
“Booby, booby!” shouted the other children.
From time to time the water would ripple as if something was moving in the depths. But then it would pass and the sun would shine again.
There was another pond.
The bed, warm and big and comforting. Daddy inviting her in to snuggle and chat on a Sunday morning. Everyone else at Sunday school – why wasn’t she at Sunday school? And why doesn’t Daddy wear pajamas? He always walks around with the grey hair on his chest bristling and his “thing” dangling obscenely below his fat belly, from his bedroom through hers to go to the bathroom. An endless trickle flows and flows. And then back. And now cuddled in bed with him, with the morning sun shining through the curtains, dappling light onto the surface of the bed. A strong smell of beer and naked male flesh. He takes her hand and runs it through the grizzled hair on his chest as he tells her about the war, behind the lines. She wonders what the lines are. Washing lines? He tells her about the heat in the desert, when his testicles stuck to his leg. Testicles? Tentacles? And he takes her hand down, so that she can feel where they got stuck. There! And there! And then he puts her hand on his tentacle (is this a Current? – it feels like a tentacle but he calls it his “thing”) and jerks it up and down.
“Do you like this, sweetheart?”
“Do you?”
“Answer me!”
“Yes, Daddy.”
How can she say no. She wants to run away to a safe distance where she can just watch for the ripples and maybe tell Mummy if she sees it again.
His hand strays into her pajamas. “Why don’t you take them off. It’s much nicer without them.”
She takes them off.
His hand slides down between her thighs. Touching her in those funny places. Pressing, fluttering, smoothing.
“Suck it for me, Sweetheart.”
And his hands pushing and pulling her down under the blankets, into the dark, and the tentacle has caught her and is pulling her down, and she can’t breathe and she feels as if she is drowning. She is awash with slimy fluid, her hair, and eyes and mouth and throat and stomach. There is a sick retching feeling at the top of her tummy. Oh Daddy. Please help me. Why have you forsaken me? Let me drown. Let me disappear. Take this away.
And suddenly it‘s over, and everyone is home and the Sunday falls back into its usual pattern of Sunday roast with roast potatoes and bullet peas to balance on the back of your fork, and then a long ramble in the bush with Mummy and the boys. She holds Mummy’s hand all the way, walking just one step behind her. “Mummy’s
Little Shadow”, as they call her.
Posted by Susan47 on September 11, 2004, at 0:10:37
In reply to Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering, posted by vwoolf on September 10, 2004, at 14:22:25
Were you able to tell Mummy about the bad thing that happened with Daddy?
Posted by vwoolf on September 11, 2004, at 5:39:35
In reply to (((((((vwoolf)))))) My heart is with you., posted by Susan47 on September 11, 2004, at 0:10:37
Thanks Susan, I never have told her. In fact I didn't even know myself that I had been abused until about a year ago - I thought I was to blame for everything, because I was seductive and bad. I always thought I had had a happy childhood, but that I was flawed, and that was why I had always felt so guilty and sad.
It has left me completely without boundaries of a sexual nature though. I confuse any kind of friendliness with sexual attraction, so I keep offering myself sexually to anyone I find kind or pleasing in any way, male or female. I then take no pleasure in what happens, because I am reliving the experience with my father. Quite bizarre. I have felt so much shame about this over the years without ever understanding why. I wonder if other incest survivors feel the same.
Posted by Jai Narayan on September 11, 2004, at 10:27:32
In reply to Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering, posted by vwoolf on September 10, 2004, at 14:22:25
I read it last night. you are not kidding this is triggering big time. I was afraid to be in the dark. Oh my so much more work for me to do.
I am deeply sorry you had to experience this trauma.
I think the hardest part is the shift to normal right after some thing life changing has just occured.
The rock in the river of our lives. As you can tell I am in the same boat. The seas become rocky without warning.
Oh who would I have been if my life had been different. I guess an idle lament.
Thanks for being open about this painful experience. My heart goes out to you.
Posted by Susan47 on September 11, 2004, at 11:47:52
In reply to Re: (((((((vwoolf)))))) My heart is with you., posted by vwoolf on September 11, 2004, at 5:39:35
You were forced to be seductive against your will. Seduction was projected upon you; you didn't cause any of this to happen. You were never ever bad.
Posted by vwoolf on September 11, 2004, at 15:14:52
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering, posted by Jai Narayan on September 11, 2004, at 10:27:32
Jai, sorry you found it triggering. You're right though, it's that shift into normality that makes it so hard, that leaves you with it as if it had happened in another dimension, a crazy dimension that belongs only to you. It's hard to shake it off again, the feeling of craziness.
Why are you scared of the dark? Can you write about it?
Posted by Jai Narayan on September 12, 2004, at 8:13:55
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering, posted by vwoolf on September 11, 2004, at 15:14:52
Thanks for asking why I am scared in the dark.
I have been trying to tease that out of me for years.
At one point I couldn't sleep with the light off.
I tried and as soon as I would turn the light on I would fall asleep.
Something happened to me while I was asleep.
All my life I have been vigilant.
I have done EMDR to work through most of my vigilance.
Some of it lingers still.
>It has left me completely without boundaries of a sexual nature though. I confuse any kind of friendliness with sexual attraction, so I keep offering myself sexually to anyone I find kind or pleasing in any way, male or female.* I remember my first real conscious reaction to a man who I had unbidden desire for. He was the “type” I would pick. He was energetically similar to my perpetrator. He had a kind of agitation and intensity in his body and eyes. He didn’t even have to speak I could pick him out in a crowd. He was slightly shaking, tight, with lots of fear in the eyes and over sexualized.
>I then take no pleasure in what happens, because I am reliving the experience with my father. Quite bizarre.
*Really not bizarre at all. We try to work it out with the new person but it never can be worked out that way. The perpetrator left his imprint on us and we want to be healthy and happy and want to work this problem out. Until I became totally conscious of my “shame” I couldn’t do anything except repeat the act in so many variations. Like I was stuck in a groove. Once I became conscious I began to work hard with a few therapists and I did get some measure of recovery. It is possible.
>I have felt so much shame about this over the years without ever understanding why. I wonder if other incest survivors feel the same.
* shame is a common feeling we incest survivors share. Maybe the perp. said something to make us shut up. Shame does go away when you move through the recovery with a good T you trust.
I did my best work with a man I trusted. It was quite hard to trust a man. You can imagine. But I found a wonderful therapist and pushed through all the painful and revolting sensations, feelings...to become a much happier and healthier person.
Posted by gardenergirl on September 12, 2004, at 22:53:54
In reply to Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering, posted by vwoolf on September 10, 2004, at 14:22:25
Wow, this story is so well-written. I got caught up in the parallels and such, and then came to a crashing fall at the end.
My heart breaks for all children who have abused by trusted adults.
gg
Posted by vwoolf on September 13, 2004, at 11:09:09
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering » vwoolf, posted by gardenergirl on September 12, 2004, at 22:53:54
You know, GG, what pains me so much is the fact that I have lived with this all my life and have only now, at the age of 52, found the courage to face what happened and find the words for what happened to me. It was only this weekend that I managed to attach the word incest to my experience. I've never thought that before, although I have always known what happened to me. The events were isolated though, in a sort of bubble, (like those glass bubbles with snow that you shake, you know?)and I found it impossible to analyze them. And I feel so angry with myself for being so weak, that I couldn't deal with them. I have wasted my life out of fear. I think that is the worst thing for me at the moment.
Posted by vwoolf on September 13, 2004, at 11:46:23
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering, posted by Jai Narayan on September 12, 2004, at 8:13:55
Jai, I haven’t replied to this message until now because some things in it struck me very forcibly, and I wanted to give myself time to think about them.
>>He didn’t even have to speak I could pick him out in a crowd.
I’ve been doing this without knowing it. Even my husband is the same physical type (oh horror!!!). Something about the shape of the head, the set of the eyes, and as you say, over sexualized. And he has taken me into very promiscuous situations too, with friends, sex workers…..even my baby son. And I’ve never felt I had the right to say no. I’m still with him, too.
I can’t actually believe I’m writing this. I feel sick. I think I want to die.
Posted by gardenergirl on September 13, 2004, at 13:30:58
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering, posted by vwoolf on September 13, 2004, at 11:09:09
> You know, GG, what pains me so much is the fact that I have lived with this all my life and have only now, at the age of 52, found the courage to face what happened and find the words for what happened to me.
I think I know what you mean. It took me 37 years to finally get up the courage to go to therapy. Of course that's really not a fair number. I think you have to subtract out childhood years because it wasn't up to us, and we didn't necessarily know about stuff like therapy. But still, I grieve at times for what feels like a waste. My T points out, though, that if I would have been ready sooner, I would have started therapy sooner. So please give yourself some credit for facing it now.
>The events were isolated though, in a sort of bubble, (like those glass bubbles with snow that you shake, you know?)and I found it impossible to analyze them.
I think in some ways this was a way to protect yourself. In that way, it's adaptive. It's only when that protective device starts to cause you distress that you can call it maladaptive.
>And I feel so angry with myself for being so weak, that I couldn't deal with them. I have wasted my life out of fear. I think that is the worst thing for me at the moment.
I don't think at all that you are or were weak. You come by this honestly, via your experiences, which were no fault of your own. It takes a tremendous amount of strength and courage to live with it and to face it. That's not weak at all.Be well.
gg
Posted by Jai Narayan on September 13, 2004, at 19:44:46
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering » Jai Narayan, posted by vwoolf on September 13, 2004, at 11:46:23
Oh my I know exactually how you feel. It made me sick. I almost vomited in therapy.
Until I knew, I couldn't work on my self recovery. I had to realize what was wrong.
I eventually choose men that threatened to kill me.
I thought my life was a game...
they hurt me then I hurt them.
I went through many relationships in this way.
I chose two kinds of men; the dangerous ones and the kind ones.
The dangerous ones were exciting.
The kind ones were steady but boring.
so I thought I only had those two choices.
Well after I realized how I had been molested and worked on the memories. I left my husband (we both were unkind).
Started a new life and met the love of my life.
We are still together and he is kind and very interesting.
I have it all without the violence.So my friend, I am wondering where this bit will take you?
You seem like a special person. I feel that way about you. I hope you will think about this. I'd like to see you and your baby safe.
I offer you another kind of life. I offer you the way out.
Think about it.
I will be there for you no matter what you decide.
Posted by vwoolf on September 14, 2004, at 9:48:45
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering, posted by Jai Narayan on September 13, 2004, at 19:44:46
You are so gentle and kind - thank you. I wish I could find a voice as kind inside myself, but always there's this criticizing, harsh voice that brings me back to reality. You know, my grandfather was a missionary in Africa at the turn of the century, and although I never met him, I feel sure that often it's his voice of condemnation and judgement that I hear inside me. I wonder where he got it from. And if it will ever be possible to stop passing this inheritance from generation to generation. I think I have done my share too - victim and perpetrator, it's a heavy burden to carry.
It sounds as if you have managed to find a way through, to find some kind of peace within yourself. I am so glad for you, Jai. I think you deserve it.
Posted by vwoolf on September 14, 2004, at 9:58:51
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering » vwoolf, posted by gardenergirl on September 13, 2004, at 13:30:58
Thanks GG for the encouragement. I agree, I wasn't ready for therapy until now. I tried earlier but it simply wasn't possible to work through these things. I feel so much anger over all the opportunities that I missed though. Life starts to narrow down at 52. And pain at all the hurt I have caused that I can't take back. Hurt to my son in particular. He is seeing a Psychiatrist for depression, and I lay the blame at my feet. It is hard to feel kind towards myself. Perhaps I will have to learn forgiveness, and forgive my mother and father, so that I can forgive myself.
Posted by Jai Narayan on September 14, 2004, at 19:09:58
In reply to Re: Mummy’s Little Shadow - Triggering » Jai Narayan, posted by vwoolf on September 14, 2004, at 9:48:45
there's a song ""Lay Down Your Burden" by Paul Winter, I weep when I listen to it. It's so beautiful, reassuring, haunting and most of all I feel like I could lay down my burden.
I invite you to do the same.
My gosh life's a long journey with this burden on your back.
You can always pick it back up.
This is the end of the thread.
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