For half of my life I was abused. For the second half of my life I have been dealing with health issues caused by the abuse.
It makes it very hard to avoid the facts of being a child sexual abuse survivor when my body is showing the signs and damage to me every day. But I managed to until I started having flashbacks of child sexual abuse.
I don’t have denial, after flashbacks. I never have. I don’t know why. I think that I have enough denial inside myself to keep many of my memories of abuse repressed. But I don’t doubt memories as they emerge.
I may not understand what I am remembering, it might not make a lot of sense, and it may be completely disjointed to time and place and they may jump around covering years in a few days, but I understand my emotions as they come out. I know they are terror, and pain, and fear and sorrow. I know they are standing on the edge of oblivion and hoping to jump. I know what my emotions are and I do not disbelieve them.
Slowly, over time, the puzzle pieces started fitting together and I got a better view of the life that I lived. Each time I re-write my personal history, the story of my life. The one that non-abusers have every day of their lives, their whole life story.
I was robbed of a huge chunk of my life, due to abuse and the repression of a part of my life and my life experiences. My flashbacks are giving myself back to me.
They say a person is the sum total of all our experiences. I am the sum total of the ones that I remember, the ones that I don’t though they still influence me, and the healing that I have done and have not done and everything else that is within me.
I see that little girl I was and I love her fiercely. I see the innocence, beauty, and purity in her. Something I couldn’t see for most of my life. I see the pure me that was. I see in her all the good that I cannot see in myself. Both her and I deserve that love. We are all innocent.