Nablopomo - apology?

Today's prompt is whether I owe anyone an apology, and if so, why?

I guess I could think of lots of reasons to apologize to people.

Therapist - apologize for asking questions that lead to disclosures

Husband - apologize for not telling him my secret years ago

Inner child - apologize for not being able to access you to feel your pain

I'm sure I could go on, but this is enough for now.

Confiding in others

I think one of the hardest things about my three week break from therapy was the realization that my T is the only one I talk with about my past. Besides those involved, only two others know my history. One is hubbie and we don't talk about it (one of my areas of anxiety). The other is a long term close friend who lives 3000 miles away and has a busy life with young kids. So we don't talk often.

Although I had a great vacation - it seemed like my "internal chatter" was greater and got fairly negative by the end of my break. I'm thinking that is because I had no outlet for my thoughts since I can't call or email T. Well I could call if there was something big, but this was the "usual chatter".

That led me to think about friends who I might tell so that I might be able to unload when needed. I see a few issues with this -

1) you never know how it will be perceived

2) is it selfish to tell someone so that I can talk to them when necessary? Would I be attempting to use a friend as a therapist?

Any thoughts on this?

Circuitous thinking and disclosuse

This post may not be coherent because my thinking is muddled about this. I've been thinking about disclosure a lot. I've been running down my list of friends - long term and shorter term - trying to decide which, if any, I might talk to about my past. The fact that I am spending time (aka ruminating about) with this tells me I will take the plunge soon. It's something I am working up to - like I worked up to -

• going to a therapist
• telling my therapist about my abuse
• telling my husband about my abuse
• asking my mother about my abuse
• telling one friend about my abuse (a safe one, that I don't see in person because she lives 3000 miles away, have known since college and who already suspected something)

I am stuck with feeling that if I tell a friend, I will feel like I've been a fraud all these years. I feel that my friends will view me differently. Which tells me that I still defining myself by what happened to me when I was a child. I am realizing that my thought process and reactions WERE formed during childhood - the circuits were laid down aberrantly. There are times when I've been sitting with a friend, chatting about this or that, when I've considered putting it out there. But I haven't. My T tells me that it will happen when I am ready. Seems like such a pat answer, but perhaps there is truth in it. I keep thinking about one friend who told me she couldn't deal with someone because there was "too much drama in her life" and she was "too high maintenance". The woman she is referring to went through a nasty divorce from someone with mental illness, has three children and is trying to make a go of it. My feeling is she deserves to be "high maintenance", but I don't want to become that person.

Perhaps part of my issue is the people I have shared with - at least hubby and mother - haven't persued it. My mother I can understand - she is self centered and it is a relief for her to have it out in the open and now she is done with it. My husband is more complicated - I have considered the following -

• he doesn't talk about it because he finds it awkward (the one time I brought it up he said he thought it was creepy)
• he doesn't talk about it because it hasn't changed how he thinks about me - I'm still the person he married and loves
• he doesn't talk about it because it has changed his thinking of me

I still am left with that fact that I withheld this information about myself from him for 25 years. It feels like I have cheated him.

So I am left with my muddled thinking. After a bizarre therapy session last night.

Buried memories - Warning - may trigger some

I've debated about sharing some of the details about my abuse. Particularly those recently revealed by my mother. I still have this fear that someone in my everyday life will discover this blog and realize that I am the author. I've decided to go ahead and take that chance.

So - I've always known I was sexually abused as a child by my stepfather - the father of my younger brother. My memories are vague - but I can date them from about age 8 to age 11. Most of what I remember occured in the night - but those memories are more about things I did to avoid the abuse - like stay up late with my older brother watching TV (I specifically remember my abuser coming to check multiple times to see if I was in bed yet). Another avoidance was carrying my younger brother into my mother's room to put him bed with her - this was after I chose to sleep in his bed - thinking it might protect me from abuse that night. Of course, that woke my mother up, which did protect me that night. I remember the next morning, my abuser cornering me in the kitchen to tell me that "if I did something like that again, he would kill my mother." This seemed plausible as we three children witnessed their fights on multiple occasions and called the police a couple of times. Although she wasn't saving me from the abuse, the alternative of being without my mother must have been very frightening. The only phyisical things I remember was one specific time when he kept me home from school in the morning - I'm suspecting the reason I remember was because that was daytime and I could *see* him. Again, I don't remember pain at that time - I remember saliva and fingers. And being dropped late at school. And wishing that I could tell someone why.

These memories have always been there, although I have been able to put them aside and move on with life. I've escaped from my life of poverty. I'm the only one in my family to graduate from high school, much less college and medical school. I think one thing that helped me through adolescence is my involvement in church at the time. Although my beliefs are nearly 180 degrees different now, the church youth group provided a social outlet for me.

Fast forward to now - my memories have become more intrusive as my children get older. I think having a teenage daughter and going through menopause pushed me to the point of needing to *deal* with my issues. For those who have read my (short) blog, you know that since I started therapy almost a year and a half ago, I have disclosed my abuse history to my therapist, a close college friend and my husband. And last week, I asked my mother about my childhood.

After a brief avoidance ("what about your childhood?"), when I asked about my abuser, she said "Oh he molested you". I asked how she found out about it - she said I was "having a problem pooping" so she took me to the doctor who discovered I had been abused. He referred me to the emergency room (I do have a memory of that visit and hearing the word hymen as an 11 year old) where they confirmed that I had been sodomized and raped (my words - I don't think my mother knows those words). My mother told me that I told her at that time that he took me to his room at night after she went to work. She worked nights for 6 years, from age 5 to 11 for me.

This is what is hard for me now. The abuse is validated (I had no doubt), but it is worse than my memories. There must have been a lot of pain. I have absolutely no memory of pain. So - I wonder if these memories will ever surface. I don't think I want them to or need them to at this point. But I worry about what I will do if they come back.

So that's at least most of my story. So much of what I'm experiencing and feeling right now ties in with posts on multiple blogs. Avoidance of touch, needing hugs, trigger warnings, religion. It is good to think about all of these things.

My T is gone for a week so it will a two week hiatus before I see her again. I will be interested to see where we go from here. (Although I know I will have to take us there :)

Amazingly, I am doing well. I think the anxiety that built up over not talking with my mother is now released. So - in the moment - I am good.

OLJ

Phone call to my mother

I've been working my nerve up for some time and finally I picked up the phone yesterday to ask my mother about my abuse. T said I likely needed some validation that the abuse had happened. I disagreed with her - I had no doubt that it happened - I do have some specific memories. I guess I wanted to hear what she would say AND try to figure out how long she knew about it before doing something. Needless to say, the question was a surprise to her and she at first danced around the issue for a few minutes. To put this in perspective - I am 50, my mother is 75 and this abuse happened between the ages of 5 and 11. So this has been on her mind for some time. She was confused about the dates - she said she discovered it when I was 5, but they divorced when I was 11, so she was wrong about that. In no way did she make it seem like the abuse was my fault, but she did seem to blame me for not telling her. Comments like - "You didn't say anything. Things happen. I'm sorry." and "He's dead now so you don't have to worry anymore." and "You have to watch your kids like a hawk." She disclosed that she "could have sent him to jail" but didn't because his mother begged her not to. I've always thought she got a better divorce settlement because she had this to hang over his head. She told me that he had abused "a lot" of girls including two of his nieces. She apparently didn't know this until after the fact, although I remember spending time with this family during my childhood. She said that the girls' father "ran him off". This is not true - because as I said, we spent time together as children.

The worse thing about all this is that she disclosed specific things about the abuse of which I have NO memory. So I know there is more buried in my mind. I wasn't prepared for that part of this. I phoned the T yesterday to let her know I had called her. I didn't specifically ask for her to call me back, and she hasn't :(((

Disclosure and healing

Although much of the time, I don't feel like I have progressed much in the last year, when I sit and assess where I am today, I realize I have come a long way. Compared to a year ago when I first disclosed to my therapist I have -

1) Told my husband about my childhood abuse
2) Slept better - although I still don't feel well rested most days
3) Told one other friend about my abuse
4) Discussed things in this "anonymous" forum
5) Continued with therapy on a weekly basis
6) Read a lot about abuse and its effects

I feel like I am nearing another step in the process, because I am -

1) Thinking about who else I might share my story with. I was with two friends over the weekend, chatting about kids and life and I started wondering about what their reaction would be if I disclosed my abuse history to them.
2) I am seriously thinking about a dinner out with a friend that I might share my story with.
3) I am thinking of telling my 16 year old daughter.
4) I am thinking of bringing it up to my mother - I called her once last week and if she had been home, I am certain I would have asked her (in a non threatening way) about what she might tell me.
5) I came across a local support group that started recently. Almost like karma - I was at the hairdressers and saw the ad in the paper. I have emailed to ask about it and I have done some research on the founder of the group. I have considered this but am not sure I ready for the public.

Just wondering about others on their journey - have you shared your story with others? How did you choose your audience? Any advice on how to proceed?

I have a session today - this seems like a good topic to fill 45 minutes :)