Dearest Heavenly Father, guide me
I have related the story of my abuse to more people in the last seven months than in the previous 50 years. Yesterday, I wrote about it in this blog. Now I find myself wanting to stand in the middle of the downtown square and scream about it.
Abuse, especially sexual, but also emotional, has nasty, creeping tentacles that reach deep into your soul and attach themselves to self-image. The longer they’re allowed to grow, the harder it is to root them out. They get entangled with so many other issues that it’s hard to separate the true problems from the ones that are created out of a hurt from the abuse.
Abuse makes nearly every other problem WAY bigger than it really is. For me, insecurity and fear are the twins born of the abuse I suffered. When people who are supposed to love you abuse you, especially early in life, they become your imprint for who God is. Therefore, I am constantly waiting for God to punch me in the stomach, figuratively speaking. He might act like He likes me now, but if I do something to irritate Him, He’ll turn on me in a heartbeat.
This has plagued me for decades. I have to take responsibility for how long I’ve let it damage my life because my husband mentioned us going to counseling during the first few years of our marriage and I couldn’t stand the thought of telling someone what had happened to me. I ended up letting my past affect me so much that my own children found me irrational and hurtful at times. I never wanted them to have a childhood filled with extra pain and yet I was the one who ended up creating some of that pain in their lives. (Way to go, me as Mom)
Now, I’m angry that I’ve been culpable in my own grief.
If you were abused or are being abused, tell someone now, and get some counseling. It will mess up your perception of yourself, and your relationships for a long time.
Or you may find yourself screaming in the middle of the downtown square.