I guess that I should just be grateful that my mind protects me from clearly knowing what happened to me as a child, since it obviously was too much for me to handle remembering that it happened, but sometimes I feel robbed of having a story. Sometimes I want to be able to say with certainty “X, Y, and Z happened to me and it was horrible, but I refuse to keep my grandfather’s secrets any longer and I’m not going to hide what he did.” But I have all of these flashbacks and seeming memories that could be memories that might have literally happened, or they might not. I feel like I can’t talk about what I seem to remember happening, because any single thing might not actually have happened, but that leaves me restricted to talking in vague generalities.
Today, while I was talking to Mama Bear about something all together different (my difficulties with going to bed- see Why won’t I go to bed?), she helped me to understand that by feeling as if I need to keep my fears hidden from my husband, I was treating them as if they were shameful. There is something about the action of keeping secrets that just magnifies shame, and conversely there is something about wisely sharing secrets that can help to break the bonds of shame. And often, around abuse, shame helps to preserve fear, so talking with him about my fears related to his coming to bed after I do might by itself convince enough of me that I really don’t have anything to fear in my current situation. It may be the easiest way to prove to myself that now is entirely different from then, because I will have behaved in a way that was impossible then.
Well, you know what, I’ve realized that I’m really tired of feeling like I have to keep the secrets of what happened. But it just feels so wrong to risk saying that something happened when it might not have. How can I accuse my grandfather of such terrible things, when I have no proof? As a result, I feel like I am in a bind: I need to start to let out the secrets, but I also need to maintain my integrity which seems to mean that I have to be completely certain of what I say, before I say it. Unfortunately, chances are good that I will never be 100% sure that any single thing happened, even though I can be quite certain of what the over all picture looks like.
There is one incident in particular that is on my mind tonight. I have given Mama Bear a vague idea of what happened, although I have never been able to tell her any specifics. I certainly haven’t been able to say anything about it to anyone else. Mama Bear assures me that she believes that it could have happened, because she has heard of similar things happening to other children, but inside I am so convinced that no one will ever believe me. Today, I realized that something that I have been experiencing over the last couple of days seems to be another piece of that memory. While I don’t want to be alone with it, I also can’t bring myself to tell Mama Bear, because I am convinced that even if she believed me before, she won’t now. And the shame and disgust that goes with it all is so very intense that I feel like I am going to choke on it.
The crazy thing is that if someone else here described what I seem to remember, I would find it horrific to hear that it happened to that person, but I also know that it is definitely within the realm of possibility and would believe the person. Sometimes people push degrading the child that they are abusing to the maximum and this would do that.
Maybe because it’s because the shame and disgust are so strong with this memory that some of me wants so much to just say, “I seem to remember X happening” and not worry about the consequences. I want to get it out of me. I want to know that other people can hear what I have said and that the words had weight and meaning- they didn’t just evaporate. That it matters that I carry the burden of these bizarre acts and I don’t have to just try to hold them inside, silently. That even though what I seem to remember seems like craziness, I am not crazy.
What I carry around feels anything but vague. Confused sometimes, yes, but not vague. So why am I stuck with a vague story? Am I really stuck with it? What would it mean if I said that I thought that things happened, even if I can never prove it? It’s not like I’m making the accusations to anyone who actually knew the man. And I know that he did some of these things, I’m just not 100% sure which of these things happened exactly the way that I seem to remember them. But does it really have to be my responsibility to say nothing clearly in that case? I feel like my voice has been taken away or at least muted when it comes to crying out about what was done. If no one says, “X, Y, and Z happened to me” when Z feels like it would be unbelievable to others, then people will never learn that Z can happen.
I don’t know, I really don’t know what is right to do here. How have you handled similar issues around sharing your story?
Now it my turn to say I wish I had something brilliant to say but I don’t. I can tell you that I think I understand what you are feeling because I’m not sure which of my memories are real and which are imagined. I keep so much unspoken because I don’t trust my self to separate truth from fantasy. I think you and Mama Bear will figure it out and I think you will learn to trust yourself.
Thank you, Red. It’s a kind of torture in itself not knowing how much to trust your own mind, isn’t it?
Mama Bear and I have talked about it and she has been frank that with the way that my mind seems to work, we may never know whether or not many things really happened. It sucks, but enough happened when I was young enough and there are a couple of other factors that we believe caused confusion, so what looks like a memory simply might not be. The trick is going to be to learn how to find a balanced way to live with all of that, so I feel like I can trust myself and my mind, in spite of everything.
You seem to have a good support system in place so I think in time you will be able to find that balance. The trick, don’t beat yourself up over it not happening fast enough. Little steps will get you to the finish line. 😉
Big hugs to you. Trust Mama Bear… She will believe you the same way I believe you. So sorry you’re having to deal with this. xx
Thank you, Kashley. She clearly believes that I was sadistically abused by my grandfather. And she has said that she believes that anything that I have told her could have happened. But she also won’t say whether or not she thinks that any specific thing actually happened, because I was the only one who was there and she doesn’t want to influence my eventual decision as to whether it happened, when I am not entirely sure myself. It’s the responsible (and ethical) stance for her to take, but it is not a particularly satisfying one to hear.
I’m still in the dark about things that have happened to me. I get flashes. I don’t know who it is and I really don’t know when but I know it makes me sick to my stomach.
I’m so sorry. That is such a difficult place to be in… I hope that you have excellent support on your healing journey.
Are you in therapy? My Therapist tells me it doesn’t even matter if it was real, if it bothers me and I want to discuss it, he will listen and we will deal with it. What I’m trying to say is, if you think you remember something, anything, even just a small piece of a possibly memory, then you can discuss it, get it out.
You deserve to heal, you deserve to get these things out, whether they make sense to anyone else or not. It’s not about accusing this person, it’s about you and your healing, not anyone else.
Sometimes I think we need permission to talk and to heal, I think we need validation that what we feel is ok. I don’t know you, but I want you to know, it’s ok to say whatever is going on inside and you are absolutely, completely 100% valid in whatever you feel.
Your post really touched me, if you ever want a friend to chat to, give me a shout.
Yes, I am in therapy. Mama Bear is my therapist. Thank you for the support!
It sounds to me, like it’s scaring you more to say “xyz” happened because then it will become real. Have you thought of just writing down for only yourself to see and if and when you feel ready, share it with Momma Bear that way? Then a least you’ve gotten it out of you and when it’s on paper for your eyes only, there’s no one to react.
You know I’ll always have a listening ear with no judgement or disbelief attached.
I totally understand not being sure if what I’ve seen in regards to my GF is real, I haven’t shared the full pic with myself or my Hubby or anyone yet but I know there has been a freeing feeling with the little bits that I have shared. Sending support your way xo
You probably are correct, Zoe. That most likely is playing into it.
I do also think that part of what is going on is that inside I am confused by a very narrow line that Mama Bear is trying to walk right now. She wants for me to feel able to share whatever comes up and that I need to share, but I’m also in a state right now where I am terribly easily triggered, and so we aren’t doing any trauma processing and she tries to keep anything about a memory as short as possible. So in some ways, she is subtly discouraging me from talking about the memories.
Hm, I think that I need to think on this and write about this further, because I could go on and on…
After I wrote last night’s post, I also thought about trying to write down what I think happened. Maybe even in a 3rd person, story like format.
I understand, and I know you need to do what’s safest for you right now, I also know “Momma Bear” has your best interests at heart. Take care of you whatever that looks like right now, it does sound like a fine line!
Third person sounds interesting. Sending love your way xo
The way I try to see it is that whatever flashes are coming to you, whatever feelings are coming to you are REAL to you and DID happen to you. Whether they actually happened in “reality” is beside the point. When we are young reality isn’t always what we see because reality isn’t always what we are coached to see. I was encouraged on Wednesday to try and see my parts as outside children; and react to them that way. You would never tell a child on the outside that you disbelieve, or say “that couldn’t have happened”. If they say it, it happened, because young people aren’t going to make stuff up like that for no reason. Same with your parts. I understand the confusion. I understanding the burning need to be “truthful” but the truth is coming to you with every flash, every memory, every feeling, those ARE truths. I’m just sorry that they are. I am here if you ever want to talk about things. Bourbon xx
Hm, maybe I will be able to deal with it better if I think about it in terms of, “this is what I am experiencing now” rather than “did this actually happen then?” Because I know that what I am experiencing now is what I am experiencing, but there is no way to verify what did or did not happen then. I don’t know. I need to think on this, but there is a validity to thinking, “Because of what happened, I am experiencing these things, whether they are memories or something else.” If I hadn’t been traumatized, they wouldn’t be coming up.
I think of the fears about telling as having practical issues involved in it. There may be real risks involved with telling something that later turns out to be incorrect. Or, there may not be. Are your grandparents still alive? Will litigation result from what you say? Will it affect your grandfather’s income if you tell? Will it affect your relationships?
In reality, most of our stories about ourselves are not quite correct. Our memories are never quire perfect. We get a lot of things wrong. Sometimes, we don’t remember important parts of events simply because they had nothing to do with us. Generally, there are no consequences when we get things wrong other than arguments at family gatherings over what “really” happened.
Our memories of abuse are so intense it often seems that telling them will shatter the world, and yet they may not be as important to anyone beyond ourselves as they are to us. I am not confident I have all of my stories 100% correct. I don’t really care. They are correct enough. And there are no real consequences to anyone aside from myself even if I have major parts of my stories wrong.
If there’s something you just want to get out there, I think that’s fine. It’s healing to tell the story. And there are probably few people who can even tell from your blog who your grandfather is. What you say isn’t going to hurt anyone, even if you get the story wrong.
My grandfather died 25 years ago. He essentially committed suicide- he stopped taking his heart medication and told my grandmother to delay calling the ambulance when he had a heart attack. My grandmother is still alive, but at 97 she is quite senile and isn’t going to find anything on the internet.
I have no interest in going into any details of what I believe happened with my parents. It just isn’t worth the stress involved, because I can’t see that they would give me an appropriate response, and I have suffered enough heart ache around them.
This is something for me to think on: “And there are no real consequences to anyone aside from myself even if I have major parts of my stories wrong.” You’re correct, they do feel earth shattering, but they don’t have the same impact on other people. I have a couple of friends with whom I have shared some of what happened, and while it makes them angry and they are disgusted by what happened, what is most important to them in all of this is that I heal.
I do have to admit, though, while some of me wants to be able to tell, a lot of me isn’t ready yet, but it is useful for me to wrestle with the concept now
It is your story, and your decision whether to tell it, when, and how much.
Take care.
I have this problem also, not really ‘knowing’ my story. I think it’s a consequence of having been abused at such a very young age, before there was a logical mind to even deal with it. In my case anyway. And we had no way to comprehend what sexual abuse even was. So a story didn’t really form. Besides all the repression/memory issues that happened. This is all the case for me anyway.
I don’t really have anyone to tell, besides my T, so I’m not struggling with what to say as much. But I do find not having a concrete story very confusing and invalidating.
Sorry, I have no advice, just want to note that I understand this very well. I think Ashana’s point is a good one too – all memory is fallible in a way. Take care.
Thank you, Ellen. It really is very confusing to deal with, isn’t it?
[…] to write down and send Mama Bear an e-mail telling her about the memory that I talked about in Do I even have a story? In some ways, I am queasy about having put it down in words and knowing that she knows about the […]
Dear Cat,
Thank you for sharing your process around memories and all that you go through over this. It does sound like a very difficult issue for you, whether or not you remember accurately and about telling your story. Ultimately your desire to heal is the important thing here.
My story has some similarities. I have some memories of abuse that really did happen and have been verified by the abuser himself. More recently (I’m 53 years old), I have been doing some movement therapy where my body seems to be showing me some abuse in a somatic memory but I have no ‘actual’ cognitive memories. I also have been having dreams (nightmares) of being sexually assaulted that seem to ‘feel’ like memories. I have been learning of family history about certain family members who probably were perpetrators on me and other relatives, but I have no memories of them doing stuff to me. Yet I have a profound sense of recognizing that they did bad stuff to me before I was old enough to have a cognitive memory.
So I struggle too over what is a real memory and what is imagined. Only I don’t struggle much over this. Because I deeply believe that even if something is imagined, if I’m suffering then MY SUFFERING IS REAL. As long as I bring it up in a safe place and keep it contained in a theraputic context (confidential), then it is part of my healing process. What is important is that telling the ‘story’ and being heard and releasing the pain, fear, trauma through my body emotions and words.
I wonder if staying wrapped up in the thinking and the struggle over whether or not stuff did happen to you, is protecting you from letting the horrible pain to be experienced and released. I know for myself, I will stay stuck in my head and churn over stuff when I’m too scared to let my body and emotions process it.
I also know that there is a kind of perfectionism in having to have something precisely accurate before I’m allowed to move forward….and that perfectionism is actually keeping me stuck.
Many of your commenters wrote stuff that is very helpful to me too. I admire your courage in sharing all this.