Tuesday, June 16, 2015

It's Real

One of the earliest blog entries came from Dann Youle, who kept struggling with whether his experience was real. I've thought of his words many times—and so have other survivors.

For the first two or three years on my healing journey, I wanted to believe they were false memories or exaggerations. I think that, in the beginning, if I could convince myself that the sexual rape hadn't taken place, I wouldn't have to endure such pain.

1 comment:

Roger Mann said...

Ah Denial, how sweet it was. I could not get what happened out of my mind. Once I became aware of his visits late at night and once he realized I was really awake, things kind of took off from there. But for many years, decades in fact, I believed it was because he cared about me, maybe even loved me? We had something special, a secret bond just between us. He could say all he wanted about and to me during the day but I knew as I lay in bed at night eventually he would come to me and no one else.

It was a long time before I could admit I was not so special, just available to him because he was my father and I had to obey. I guess that was what hurt the most was the dashing of that fantasy and acceptance of the reality. I was raped, I was abused; he took advantage of me because he could get away with it. If someone else came along and they did, I was forgotten like used Kleenex. God, how that hurt.

But with reality came freedom. Freedom from some stupid fantasy that I kept spending energy keeping alive in my head. Freedom to accept the truth and move on with my life and recovery. Freedom to make new choices, better choices and find real love from someone who really cared about the real me, not the plaything.

Thanks for the post.