recovery

As I reflect on my past several words come to mind................

sur-vive (ser viv)v. - to continue to exist; to outlast; to outlive.
synonyms: live, remain, continue, persist.
over-come (o ver kum') v. - to prevail; to conquer or defeat.
synonyms: beat, conquer, defeat, subdue.
de-ter-mi-na-tion ( di tur' mi na' shan)n. - the act of deciding definitely; a firm resolution; adherence to purposes or aims.
per-se-vere (per'se ver') v.- To persist in any purpose or idea; to strive in spite of difficulties or obstacles.
synonyms: remain, endure, persist, continue.

I want to start off with dedicating this page to a very special person very dear to my heart. She gives a whole new meaning to survive, overcome, determination and persevere. What I went through is so small in comparison to what she has. I always wondered and asked God why I went through what I did and through Abbey He showed me why. He showed me that because of my abuse I can help others. I can use my experiences to help someone else overcome theirs. I met Abbey in a chat room for survivors and made an instant connection. I never knew that having a "little sister" could be this way. Abbey honey if I could tell you one thing, it's hang tough and keep trying....you are stronger than you think...... and remember the "fist"....
"Fare thee well blessed be !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
                      Abbey Mae...................this page is for you !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

     Having to be hospitialized on psychiatric wards is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life. A big step to make towards a better life. It hasn't been easy and I have had many setbacks. But I will never regret my time that I spent in the hospital because it had helped me to open up and unleash my past. A past that up until this time had been buried so deep that I was smothering. With the help of so many people, so many understanding people, I came to accept what happened to me.
     I think the second hardest thing I have had to do in my life was to confide to my parents what happened to me and how it was affecting my life. No parent wants to hear that their child is hurting and my parents were no exception. I didn't have the confidence in myself to confide in them but it was affecting my life so much that I come to terms with my past. I will always be ever grateful for my parents understanding and comfort. I am also very thankful that even though at times it was wavering and seemed doomed, my faith in God stayed intact and still does because without God's help and strength I would never have made it in more ways than one.
      Anyone who has not gone through depresssion doesn't understand the turmoil it causes a person. One doesn't eat, sleep, cannot control their mind, has thoughts of ending it all, sees no end in sight. To put it plain and simple, doesn't function. That was me. I was always unhappy deep down but could never pinpoint the real cause of it. I figured this was me and how it should be. This was how it was and always will be.
     Near the end of high school in '85 I started to have odd dreams. I could not make any sense of them. The same 2 people were in all of them. One a grown man who seemed gigantic next to a little girl who I didn't recongnize. At first the dreams came sporadiacally, never amounting to much, but each one stuck. Then like a steamroller they came with such frequency. I never knew what hit me. But I still could not recognize the little girl. I could feel for the things that were being done to her. I could feel the pain and share her tears. I could almost feel like this was happening to me. Then near the end of '90 I had a very traumatic dream. More than that, a nightmare. I woke up with a jolt. It was at that time that I realized that the little girl in all those dreams of the past 5 year or so was me.
     After that I bottomed out. Oh I functioned but barely. I went to work and church but deep down I was tearing apart. Depression started taking my life away from me. I rarely slept, barely ate, became terrified to sleep for fear of having another dream about that little girl, I began to blame myself. I must have wanted it to happen. I must have liked it because I never told anyone and kept going back. We all know how much words hurt and stick like glue.
     It took me many, many years for me to accept that when threats are put on a little child, they are not easily forgotten. The fear takes over, I was no exception. Because he was a friend of my parents I believed him when he told me that my parents would not believe me. Plus I never felt love or acceptance and here was someone giving me all kinds of love. But what I didn't know or realize at the time that that is not the love I needed, the blame really took over. If I had not wanted or asked for it why did I, after giving a playmate a bloody nose ,run scared to his house instead of home to my parents? Like they weren't going to find out eventually. I remember him holding me and comforting me, I must have asked for whatever he gave me. I remember him telling me that this was normal. This happens to every little girl. It helps them become a woman. What I could not understand is that if what he told me was true then why didn't my own daddy do these things to me? He is my daddy and the one who teaches me right and wrong. So if this was right why not him? I was very confused to say the least. I became a very defensive child. Everyone was against me or so I thought. I fought back anyway I could. I was always in conflict with someone and rarely not in the throws of tears.

    I thought my dreams had come true when I heard he was moving away. I thought I would be different. I thought it would end; I would be a normal kid with normal feelings. I would suddenly be the happy go lucky kid everyone liked. Could I have been any more wrong! During this time my weight escalated, it just kept going up and up. This just added to my turmoil. My mom tried to help. She had me in to a dietitian, gave me low calorie lunchs but nothing helped. This gave my classmates more ammunition. I tried to dress like them, tried to be like them, but it did no good. I never knew if I was going to be beaten up on the way home just because I was me. It was a no win.
     So here I was. I felt the world was against me. My family, classmates or whoever I came in contact with. The only comfort I had at this time in my life was that I started going to church. It became the one place I could go where I felt safe. No one was going to hurt me. No one was going to put me down. No one was going to make fun of me. I became involved however I could. Nursery, choir, youth group or wherever I could be me. The youth group was the best. I can never forget the leader Gregg. He never gave up on me. He forever told me that I could be anything. He took me under his wing. He always made it possible for me to go to any of the retreats and camps. It was at one of these retreats that he asked me if I had ever made a commitment to God. Oh what a turning point that was in my life. I now had an outlet. I now had someone I could talk to . Someone who loved me for me. This got me through high school.
     I moved away shortly after graduation and then off to a year at bible school after that. I grew a lot in that year. Grew in ways I never thought I could. Once again God showed me who I am in him. Then after that year I moved even further away from my family. That was very heard for me. I was alone and felt isolated. I found a job, became part of a church family and things were finally coming together for me.
     Then in '90 they started falling apart. The dreams came with such intensity taht I was right back where I started. The blame, guilt, shame, hate, anger. They were all thrown at me again. I hated myself, hated my life. To add to this already very fragile life, in late '90 I lost my job because of my own doing. I kept it from my parents because I didn't want them to see how I failed once again. So I kept it from them. I lied to them and it ate at me and ate at me. I go so deep in my deceit to them that when I got my job back I could still not tell them of the lie I had led for those months.
     In March '91 it came to a head. I was no longer functioning. I had given up. I no longer wanted to be in a world that I kept hurting in. Thankfully others did not give up on me. It was because of their love for me that I was admitted to the psychiatric ward for 7 weeks. 2 days into my stay my mom flew to be with me. It was then that I let it all out. Not all of it. I still could not tell her about my abuse. But I shared so much with her. It was there with her encouragement that I began to write. I had the best counselor who just happened to be a Christian. She helped me see that my feelings were nomal because of my circumstances and helped me get my life back. I was also going to group sessions at the hospital, which helped me see that I was not alone. Being able to bond with my mother, meet people who were just like me, and with medication I was finally able to look at my life on a whole new level.

     Another part of my healing was the hardest thing for me to do. I put it off and put it off but I couldn't anymore. Someone had given me the number for the Sexual Assault Center. I sat on that number for a long time. I knew it was something that I had to do and I could no longer wait on it. Finally I called, gave a brief history, was told to come in for a meeting with a counselor. I went with much hesitation and reluctance. After talking and then filling out a questionnaire that seemed to go on forever I was told that there was a 2 month waiting list. How discouraging. I finally got the courage to call and still have to wait. Well wait I did. It seemed the wait went on forever. When I could wait no longer I placed another call to the Center. Well fancy this, they had room for me and I could get in that very week. I met the most amazing counselor. She was my saving grace. She brought things out of me that I had buried so deep. She helped me recognize that child in my dream was only that. A child. I was beginning to see that. I was not to be blamed for the actions of an adult. She gave me ways to survive my dreams. I saw her as frequently as I could. I needed her. Slowly I was pulling out of my shell that I had built around me. During this time shortly after I started counseling with her I got a letter from my mother. Here was my mother apologizing for how I was raised. She shared some of what her own childhood was like. I read that over and over again. I now saw my mother in a whole new light. That was a turning point for me. With that letter it was like the floodgates opened and everything I felt growing up was released and made more sense to me. I don't think I could have ever loved or respected my mother any more after that.
     Counseling with my social worker, sessions with my counselor at the center, attending out patient groups and medication I was making it. I was happier than I ever was. People even made comments on the changes in me. I was no longer this edgy fragile child who flew off the handle over nothing, who when looked at the wrong way would burst into tears. I was learning control. Control over my life. I was at church 3 days a week, work every day, out with friends making up for lost time.
     For 5 months after I was released things were going great. Not perfect but what is. As I neared my 25th birthday that October I started to drop. I started to feel worthless again. Here I was, 25, no significant other, no kids, a job going nowhere and my physical health started to go down. My asthma was getting out of control. What did I have to live for? 2 days after my birthday I hit rock bottom. I went to work, came home, locked myself in my room, wrote some letters, and took all the pills I had. I waited and waited for them to work. The next I remember is my brother standing over me. I will never forgive myself for putting him through that.


     So began another hospital stay. 8 weeks this time. Also this time both my parents came. This time I was also put in a different hospital. The care was different. More one on one. They knew when you suddenly got a dazed look on your face, you were in the throws of yet another flashback, or when you began retreating to your room they knew what your thoughts were and instantly put you on a watch. The hardest part was the medications. Oh, how I hated them. Mine were changed and changed only to be changed agian. Sometimes I felt so out of reality. But I began to realize that I needed them to function. The orher part of this stay that made the most difference was there were so many more therapy groups. This helped in keeping my mind occupied.
     Now began the most difficult part of this hospital stay. I was still in contact with my counselor at the Center and with much hesitation we felt it was now time to tell my parents about the abuse. We arranged to meet after her day was done. I couldn't believe she stayed after for me. She arranged for me to get a pass from the hospital and the nurses were prepared for when I came back. The meeting started out okay but when it came time for me to say what happened I couldn't say it, so my counsellor had to. The hardest thing was telling them who it was. I did not want to hurt them, but I could not avoid it any longer. My mom sat in the backseat with me and just held me. But it was over. It was out. That was the start of the rest of my life.
     In the last 10 years since that time there have been many setbacks. Sometimes I wonder how I got through it or will ever get through it. Well I know how. Because first of all I have a good support team and second God is on my side. One of the best therapies for me started in April 2000. By chance I found a Christian Chat room that drew me in. Hook, line, and sinker. Almost instantly I met one person, which led to another, which led to another. Those that I have met have brought me through so much. Without them I know I would not be here writing this. I know that if I feel myself going down, all I need to do it go on line and there is someone there. It is hard for others to understand what being online means to me and how important it is to me and how much I need it. I have the closest friends anyone could ever want. God knew what I was missing in my life. A void that I was longing for was finally filled. It really hit me in August when I had to be hospitalized and got call after call from people in the Chat room. Even from some I didn't know. It was at that time that I really felt the love I was striving to find all my life.
     Around this time I started going into a chat room for sexual abuse survivors and met a young girl. Initially we started talking privately but lost contact with each other.Then a few months ago she popped up on my computer again and neither could figure out where we knew the other from. After going back and forth and getting ready to give up it clicked and I remembered who she was. And since then we have taked almost everyday. She has been for me the answer to my question, "Why did it happen to me?" Well I found out. Through what happened to me I am able to be there for her. To help her make sense of what happened to her.To let here know that no matter what she goes through there is one person on her side who she can trust. One person she can fall back on. One person she can rely on. I know God sent her to me so that I can be that person for her. We have shared a lot and cried a lot. When I was her age I never had that one person that I could trust. I want her to know that she doe. If I can use my experiences to help one person out of theirs, then anything I went through or will ever go through was worth it. God has a purpose for each and everyone of us and it is up to us to use the resources he has given us. God has shown me what I need to do. I know that when I am in a crisis I need to get on line, put my praise music on, write, read my bible and leave it with God. Trust him that he will take care of me. Know that I am loved.....I know that I am special....nothing can change that.
     Another hard time in my life was seeing my mother go through the depression and chaos that I went through myself. I could relate all too well to the feelings that she was dealing with. The situations were different but the feelings are the same. But if anything it has brought us closer together and helped understand each other with open eyes and ears.
     I wanted my story to be told. It was very hard to face but it only shows how strong I am. One very close friend tells me I am a strong person, she soesn't know if she would be as strong as me. I never really saw that till now. I can only attribute my strength to one source and that source is God.