Memories

Reading Dawn's post about the 10 year old who was raped caused me to leave her blog faster than I ever did. Then I went back and read it again. Stories like these cause various reactions in me. Anger, pain, disbelief, sadness.

I often refrain from seriousness here, of the horrors of my childhood. I'm still learning to cope and understand the years when I had no control over the things forced upon me. I'm still learning to own my behavior once I freed myself from bloody chains. I don't cringe at who I see staring back at me as I used to. I don't berate myself and accuse as I did before I opened my eyes to myself. I no longer want to find ways to end it all, to get away from the pain inside as I did many years ago. I want to live it, confront it, hold it close and conquer it.

I know what that little girl is feeling. I know the hurt and the pain and the ache. I can close my eyes and recall the exact terror in her heart, the hot breath on her neck, the hand forcing her to do something she can't even fully understand. The memories hurt and the thought of what was done to her sickens me. She will be told to forgive, to let it go. She will be bullied into thinking that something is wrong with her because of the anger inside. She will rebel, lash out and hate herself more everyday.

It took years, decades, for me to be able to even allude to the things that happened behind closed doors when I was a little girl. It took just as long to rid myself of the shame. Anger was my constant companion, self loathing his sidekick. By the time I turned 16, I was drinking myself into oblivion and swallowing any pill I could get my hands on, the haze the only thing keeping me from slitting my wrists. There are times still when memories rock me at unexpected moments. The smell of a certain cologne, the glance of a fading scar. They're always there, lurking. They always will be.

The little girl in Dawn's post also gave birth to a baby. With all she will have to deal with she will also have that. Her baby will most likely be taken away. What happens when it one day wants to find it's Mother? It will learn the story of how it was conceived thus causing another person pain. The act of a depraved man will echo through generations.

I hope that little girl has someone to love her, help her, support her through what the vileness done to her has caused. I hope that one day she wakes up braver and stronger with the realization that she did nothing wrong.

I hope.