WALKING THE HALLWAY AGAIN

    Releasing myself from any guilt surrounding the sexual abuse that I endured as a child was not easy. Abusers are so good at turning things around and making the entire situation seem like your fault. I’ll bet you’re nodding your head in agreement, aren’t you? Can you pinpoint the moment when you first realized that what was happening wasn’t right? I can. I was about three years old and I was running down the hall to get cleaned up after an abuse session. My stepdad was standing in the hall, waiting for me, leather belt in hand. He looked larger than normal and very sinister. In my young mind, I knew I was in trouble for something. He was going to beat me with that belt. But why? Hadn’t I done everything he’d asked me to? No, no I hadn’t.

            The night prior, at dinner, I had announced that “daddy showed me his penis and made me touch it today!” I announced it in the same way a preschool student would talk about making a finger painting in class earlier that day. It was a major event in my young life, and I was merely sharing the news with my family at the dinner table. My Mom made a funny sound, stepdad’s face turned white and then the denial began. “No, I didn’t. She walked in on me using the restroom and I told her to get out. It wasn’t appropriate,” he lied. My mother, placated, continued to serve the dinner to us all. Strange looks passed between them during dinner until finally, my mom seemed to relax and realize he was right. I was just a curious little kid who opened the door at the wrong time. Except he was the liar, and I was the truth-teller. This same scenario would play out many, many times in many locations over the years until I finally realized that sometimes Mommies just don’t care, and the bad guy will always win.

            Back to the hallway scene. He snarled at me, like a rabid dog, ready to attack. “If you ever tell your mother what we did today, I will beat you with this belt, you little sh*t. Do you understand me? She will never love you again. She barely loves you now.” My lower lip puckered, tears burned my eyes and my cheeks turned bright red. “Yes, daddy. I understand.” 

This is a secret I must keep. You are scary and you hurt me. Why did you enjoy it so much when I didn’t? I hate you. I will learn to hate you more until one day I just stop caring whether you live or die, and I find immense inner peace in telling people you’re already dead.

            Is it hard to recall those hallway moments when he threatened to beat me? Yes and no. There were so many of them that they come easily to my mind as if reciting the alphabet. It is hard to look back at that time in my life, as a mother who now has four precious children, and understand how anyone can be so cruel to such a young, vulnerable child. What kind of demons must have taken over his existence for him to do something so horrific? When I lose my cool and yell at my kids, I have a hard time reconciling that with myself. I must go immediately to God in prayer and beg Him for forgiveness and the skills I need to rectify the situation so that I can be the mother my kids need me to be. Did stepdad ever regret his decision to abuse me? I have a hard time believing he ever felt an ounce of remorse as it was happening for nearly ten years. Remember, he is still – as of three months ago- a narcissistic, emotionally abusive alcoholic. His brain does not distinguish between young children and adults. He speaks to all ages the same way – as beneath him.

            What no one told me truthfully is that my mother was incapable of loving anyone because she didn’t even respect herself. The memories surrounding the hallway moments have helped to shape me as a mother. When I recall the intense fear I felt then, I remind myself in the here and now to be gentle and patient with my kids when they make a mistake. Their brains are still developing, and they need time, guidance, and training to name and accept their emotions. They need help navigating the world and understanding why rules are put into place. They need compassion. I need to remain a safe place for them. “My kids are safe in this place.” “I am a safe person for them.” “God is with us all.” “Today is….” I have to take it one day at a time and accept that there are days when I will fail. I'm human. Back to God, I go...

I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13

L-R from top to bottom: Grandma Verla, Mom, Stepdad,
Me (age 2), my sister Melissa (age 8)

 

Stay tuned for another episode. I aim to crank out the blog posts three times a week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. See you next time! And remember, if you or a loved one is in danger, get help right away, and don't stop talking until someone acts on what you're saying.

National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800-799-7233 Hours: 24/7. Languages: English, Spanish, and 200+ through interpretation service. SMS: Text START to 88788

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673 Hours: Available 24 hours. https://www.rainn.org/

In Christ alone our hope is found

Run, don't walk for help! You're worth it.

 

 

 

           

           

NO SENSE IN FLASHBACKS

     Flashbacks are a terrible, horrible thing. They can come on at any time, disrupting whatever I had been doing prior. There is often no warning as to when they will come on, no way to fully disengage from them and it can be very difficult to recover from them. The worst ones for me are the ones that engage more than two senses. Sometimes I can see and hear the event as it unfolded while smelling the sweaty, earthy smell of his (stepdad’s) skin on mine. Sometimes I even physically feel his hands on me, which is just the worst.

When I was newly married, sex was incredibly difficult. There were times when I mistook my husband for my abuser because I was triggered simply by the act of having sex. My heart breaks for the pain and agony my husband went through during that time in our marriage. What finally helped was to psych myself up for sex before the act, reminding myself that I am safe, he is a safe person and then I would recite the date and time repeatedly. Usually, that worked. Sometimes, I went into what I refer to as a “time warp” and I would not be able to tell the difference between little girl Amanda and adult Mandy. In those moments, I would panic and physically shove my husband off me and curl into the fetal position. There was no difference in those moments for me (internally) between abuse and consent. I’d been triggered by something, and I couldn’t separate the past from the present.

Flashbacks are the stuff of nightmares. They can occur anytime I feel triggered by something, and often, I don’t recognize that I’ve been triggered until the flashback occurs. I have four kids. Give me a break here. I can’t always be fully cognizant of every sight, sound, or smell in my general region – especially when in a crowd and my first thought is “where are my kids?” Flashbacks can last from a few seconds to a couple of minutes. Sometimes I will let others know I’ve just had a flashback, but most of the time, I just keep it to myself and immediately pray about the situation. I know that God is always with me, and He will give me the peace and comfort that I need to continue with my day. When I need to, I will also let my husband know that I am having a hard time and I need him to make a few more decisions on his own that day, so I can rest easy in our partnership. Marriage is truly a three-corded rope, for which I am eternally grateful. There are times when my husband needs to lean on me as well, and I know that it is never in my power that I can be his helpmeet, nor is it in his power that he is the provider and leader of the household.  I truly married a good one.

Some folks have recommended marijuana to me to help with the flashbacks. I considered it for a while, then did my research, including talking to my doctors about it. For me, it’s just not a good option and I have no plans to ever try it, including edibles. I know that marijuana has become a popular coping mechanism, and I want to give my stance very carefully on it. It’s just not a good idea without a doctor’s approval. Alcohol is another vice that I don’t advocate for, except in moderation. Some studies have shown that certain red wines can improve heart health, calm uterine contractions, and ease stress. In moderation. By moderation, I do mean less than a drink a week. This is my opinion, and you’ll need to speak with your doctor to develop your wellness plan. I included this information because I want to express the importance of making informed decisions regarding mental health care. I know that in a moment of panic, it can be easy to reach for whatever makes you feel better in the moment, but will that help you in the long run? Will it change your life for the better? I prefer the long-term solution of a slow burn, snail’s pace way of making lifestyle changes that will stick.

There is something to the act of reciting the date and time when you are under a lot of stress. It’s a way of grounding yourself, reminding yourself that you’re in the here and now, not back in the past where the trauma occurred. I also find it helpful to recite my home address, kids’ names, and a few positive affirmations such as “I am safe in this place” and “I am with a safe person, named (insert name here.” These are the coping mechanisms that work time after time and are easier for me to remember in a pinch. A therapist once told me that our brains do not recognize a negative word within a positive statement when we are under duress. For example, if I were to say, “I’m not in danger.” My brain would omit the “not” and just hear “I am in danger.” I have adapted my inner dialogue to reflect this information and now focus on the simple term “I am safe in this place.” It’s worked for me for over a decade. Determine what words of affirmation you need to hear when you feel unsafe, and then practice positively saying them. Teach them to your safe people, too.

I want to take just a moment to address those who are reading this blog to better understand flashbacks, either because you’re in ministry or you have a loved one suffering from them. While each of us who endured trauma tends to handle flashbacks differently, there is one universal phrase that will always be helpful when interacting with someone who is triggered. It is “I believe you. Your story is important. I am here for you. “And then follow through with that. Check-in on that person throughout the week and the following weeks. Don’t take their first answer to your question of “Are you okay?” at face value. Until we, who have endured trauma have learned and settled into the knowledge that you are a safe person, we will lie to you. Repeatedly. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with our trauma training. You see, trauma trains us to never trust anyone, to rely upon ourselves for everything, and to look at everyone else as suspicious from now on. The very best thing you can do for someone you truly want to help is to be patient and consistent while maintaining your own safe boundaries. (Those in ministry or seeking to help someone with trauma should look into emotional pain transference. Here is a good reference to get you started: https://www.denverpainandperformance.com/transference-and-blame/ )

Me and Melissa, September 11,2001 just minutes after the planes
hit the twin towers. I didn't want this day to only be remembered
for tragedy, so we snapped this pic. She died 17 months later of 
natural causes, in her sleep. She was my best friend.

Stay tuned for another episode. I aim to crank out the blog posts three times a week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. See you next time! And remember, if you or a loved one is in danger, get help right away, and don't stop talking until someone acts on what you're saying.

National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800-799-7233 Hours: 24/7. Languages: English, Spanish, and 200+ through interpretation service. SMS: Text START to 88788

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673 Hours: Available 24 hours. https://www.rainn.org/

In Christ alone our hope is found 

Run, don't walk for help! You're worth it.