Blogging is so new to me! It is like
teaching a grandma how to use the Internet or a baby to crawl! Hah! All to say
this is continually evolving. Roll with the punches.
I want to take a brief second to
tell everyone thank you from the bottom of my heart who sent me
messages, comments, like'd my Facebook link, posts, texts, kind words, and
followed me (I am not sure I know what all that entitles haha). Being this vulnerable
about my experience on the www is a more than a bit scary! So, thank you so
much! Don't stop! Words of Affirmation are my love language and I appreciate it
more than you know!
Beauty In The Breakdown
Over the past two days, I have
pondering what to write next. What follows my previous post? I promised to be
real. So I am going straight for it despite the dreadful turning in my stomach.
I was a sexually molested as a child
for many consecutive years. I never told anyone. Not a soul!
· Disclaimer:
I would like to note that the identification of the abuser in this blog will
not be disclosed at any time. However, I would like to clarify. (Remember in my
last post I shared my fear of exposing anyone and their family and causing any hurt?) This,
I pray, will be the only time I will address this on my blog. The abuser is
NOT in my immediate family! I would like to address at this time that I couldn’t ask for better parents and brothers throughout this battle. I
would like to steer clear from this topic from this point on as it is not
relevant to the purpose in which I felt lead to write.
I remember, like it was yesterday,
the first time I told anyone. It was so surreal. I was sitting in a therapist's
office at Laureate in Tulsa,OK.
When you keep abuse of that nature a
secret, for so long, it takes over your life, controls your thoughts, and
redirects your self worth. I didn’t know it at the time, but the abuse was the
root issue to why I was seeing a therapist. I was only a teenager. I may have
been 13 or 14 I do not recall. Laureate was known to be one of the best
treatment centers for eating disorders in the nation. So, of course, my loving
parents enrolled me in outpatient therapy immediately following school. After
my first heart break from church camp (juvenile I know) I began skipping meals.
Skipping meals soon wasn't enough so I added diet pills. When I ran out I
stole money from my parents and bought more. One night my parents caught on to one of their kids stealing from them. Before I fessed up to my parents
my best friend, Sarah Thompson, gave me an ultimatum. She told me she realized I went through a
bottle of 120 diet pills in a week, I was stealing from my parents, my previously tight clothes were sagging, and my hair
was falling out. Sarah told me that if I didn't tell the school nurse or my parents
by 3rd hour she would fess up for me! I hated her then! But see her as an angel now. I thank God for Sarah Thompson.
All of the above landed me in the therapist office at Laureate where my first breakdown occurred. My first therapy session I was asked a series of questions for profiling purposes.
I answered all the questions softly and quickly as the therapist filled out the
paper work on her clipboard. Then, I was caught off guard. The therapist asked
"... and has anyone ever touched you without your consent?" I froze.
It was like the beige walls in her tiny office were caving in. She put the
clipboard down. "Sarah" she sweetly called. "I'm going to ask
you again, I want to remind you that anything you tell me stays in this room
and it will not leave this room..." I remember tearing up staring down at
the design in the carpet. It was so surreal. No one had ever asked me that
before! Why would they? I thought about lying. But I was desperate to tell
someone I knew couldn’t tell anyone. It was like I immediately trusted her because of the laws she was held by as a therapist. (Little did I know if the abuse was
still occurring she would also be held by law to report it.) I broke down
weeping in that office and felt freedom for the first time regarding this
abuse. I told her the nitty griddy and ugly cried the whole session. Snot was all over the place. My eyes looked like the poster child for the "red and itchy eye's" commercial! But, I
will tell you… There was beauty in that break down. A deep deep beauty. A weight was lifted off my
shoulders. I didn't have to fight alone anymore. Looking back, I realize how sick I truly was. This was only step one. One of one million and it was still so
freeing!
In the next posts, I will tell you more about the further steps
I took towards healing and about addition abuse I experienced.
Want
to help Break Bondage? I
challenge you, or someone you know that may be in need of healing, to confide
in someone if you have dealt with similar abuse. The abused are not alone! And
even more so, every 30 seconds another person becomes a victim of human trafficking!
Of those people 99% are not rescued! I have learned that although I went through
some tough crap- I am SO unbelievably blessed. I mentioned in my last post Christine Caine. She is one of many fighting against human trafficking, or modern slavery, and a
victorious victim of abuse herself. At the conference she said “No one can do
everything, but everyone can do something.” If you want to do something go here
http://www.thea21campaign.org/
No comments:
Post a Comment