a case of a childhood impaired by molestation

Monday, August 6, 2012


as a kid i remember peering inside the house from the windows,
(condensation from my breath all built up) my tiny fingers so cold i couldn't even bend them.
but, that was my choice...i was playing a game.
i was playing escape,
running away in my mind.
at that point as a child i wanted to be anywhere but inside that house.

its amazing what happens when you look at things from the outside.
you feel a bit detached.
also, it doesn't seem to hurt as much.
now, i'm going to say,
i know that's probably not the healthiest approach to things.
actually i'm quite certain, it can't be.
but, to be struggling as much as i did from time to time
sometimes it's all i could really do.
i watched myself, outside of myself
pretending that it wasn't me.
it wasn't me.
i ran away.

i've found myself doing that a lot lately, like when i was a kid.
things always seem very much surreal and unattached that way.
a bit cloudy, murky, and a lot more faint.
the pain of the memories and my dysfunction is sometimes overwhelming.
my whole life i've runaway.
in my mind and i would say sometimes even in my heart.
in a way my thoughts have always been detached.
i always wanted to spend my time thinking this thing didn't happened to me.
those memories and pain aren't mine.

and in the end, it hits me harder,


  1. i wondered if this would come up in your writing...

    i'm so glad you are writing about one of the deepest, most profound aspects of recovery...it's when we look back and see how we coped, how we actually managed to take all that abuse upon ourselves without even striking back in any way, without yelling, without poking his eyes out or any of that, without even whimpering...

    we have this fascinating way of just absenting our mind from our body...when it all just gets too horrible, we can float the mind away and be an observer of the crime. i've done it many, many, many times. it worked. it helped. at that moment, it's all the little girl can do.

    it is so pathetically sad, i know...some victims spend so much time outside of their own bodies that, after a time, they don't want to go back. not us. we want to get it all back together, get those pieces picked up, give that bastard the finger and find the fun people, surround ourselves with happy, supportive, loving people who would do anything if only they could have been there to have helped us. they just didn't know.

  2. i still wonder to this very day how i did survive.
    really, i'm not sure.
    how did i know how to separate what was real to me from the real actual reality i lived in.
    all the bullshit.
    it's true what you said about absenting our minds from our body.
    a total disconnection.
    i can tell you right now. i would not be who i am without all your guys love and support.
    i love you julie. i don't think i tell you enough.
    thank you for all your constant support and beautiful words of encouragement.