Yesterday was a really hot summer day; towards the afternoon, I took off much of my clothing due to the heat and laid down in the cool shade of my bedroom for hours…as I did so, I had these strange images come through my mind, intrusive images of my mother naked. I just shook them off after a time, and it wasn’t until this morning that I started to explore an impression in the back of my mind. I began to list all the times my mother had made creepy, sexually intrusive comments to me, I began to examine her behavior in my mind, asking, when did she act inappropriately…
Soon I could feel myself beginning to dissociate, then the images started to flash into my mind; an up close image of my mothers naked thighs and what lay between them… my hands moved reflexively into this upturned position over my genitals, and locked there for a long time…I began to cry, and experience this full body memory. I must have been maybe two-four years old, in my mothers bed, naked; my brother was also there, she would touch our genitals, say she was playing the same ‘monkey game’ that my older brother used to molest me later in life…and she made us perform oral sex on her at the same time; at some point I reached over and found my brother was hard. Back then, while this was happening, my legs failed, and I urinated on myself; while I was dissociating today, I could feel this strange warmth radiating from my crotch down my thighs, and I was also unable to move my legs for over an hour while I remembered the experience.
I never thought this could be the case…it makes sense, but…I had no idea it had happened. And while I was having this amazing sensory flashback, I was frozen in shock; it was undeniable, and sudden, and then it was just there; the whole memory. After it was over, she tried to pacify us with food; the roots of my eating disorder… The roots of the sexual abuse my brother perpetrated on me… The reason my mother reacted the way she did when I announced that I had been sexually abused but didn’t say who it was. She was afraid, I see it now; afraid that I remembered, that I was going to tell other people that it was her. Disturbingly enough, after I told her, she called me into her bedroom, asked me to sit down on the same bed where she had abused me, while she was wearing a robe just like she always did when I was a child (maybe the same one), and demanded, right there, that I tell her what happened. I felt so uncomfortable sitting there, but I didn’t remember, I couldn’t even name my brother yet at that point.
She would rattle off a list of names, hoping I would latch onto someone other than her, and then proudly insist to others that ‘he doesn’t remember a thing…’ which of course wasn’t true, I had several memories of my brother’s abuse floating in my mind, that I just needed to work through when I felt safe enough, which definitely wasn’t going to be while I lived in that house. My mother became incredibly irate when her sister, my aunt said that it could be my father, noting that her own husband was sexually abused by his father, and that the abuser is often in the family. She couldn’t handle any suggestion that it could be in the family, though after that she was very eager to ask me if someone in my aunt’s immediate family had done it.
What my brother did was highly unoriginal; he made me perform oral sex on him, just like she did, and then he anally raped me as well a few years later. And of course they both remembered what they did to me; I was the only one on the outside. The incest was deeper, more profound than I had thought. My mother acted like it was all about her when I revealed my abuse, and not just because she was self-centered and deluded, but because she sexually abused me herself, and didn’t want to be reminded of it.
I was sexually abused by my mother as a young child. Eight years of trying to work through my issues of abuse, and this is the first time I ever uttered those words. This changes everything…I’ve been working a lot recently on believing myself, on validating my truth, that yes, my brother did sexually abuse me, and that is why my body decided to release this clearly; because I’m ready to take my side. Reading the blogs ‘emerging from broken’ and ‘overcoming sexual abuse’ over the past month has helped me immeasurably in this process.
I’m a survivor of incest, not only emotional and physical abuse. The latter two were very damaging, but those memories of cruelty were not blocked out like the sexual abuse was. I’ve felt fear, like the voices of my family are around, telling me I made it all up, that I’m a liar. But I stopped talking to any of them years ago, I live almost 5,000 miles away and I have no connection to anyone I knew before the age of twenty. I’m going to be open, as I said in my first entry I want to integrate, I want to bring things forward and create a complete account, a complete life, a complete persona.