The "Dark Side of My LIfe"
I have comtemplated as to whether I should share this part of my life with anyone, other than the handful of extremely close people in my life who already know. However I am on a mission of healing. I also have thought that maybe, just maybe there is someone else out there living with secrets in there life, secrets that they feel are so horrible that they have in essence formed their life and at times nearly destroyed them. I never knew that person was me, until now. I want anyone else out there who has gone through something similar or something worse to know, you don't have to suffer alone. There are people out there who care about you. First of all, you need to tell someone. DO NOT let the person who did this to you, win! If you are still keeping this secret he or she is winning, because right now he or she still owns you. Second or all it is not now nor was it ever your fault! That person or persons is/was just sick and needs help!! I am fortunate to have been able to confront my abusers, this is not always possible. I have also forgiven them, this is not always possible either, forgetting is the hardest part. I am still working on that. I will not go into sordid details in my accounts, in the next few paragraphs, I will be vague. I just want this part of my blog to be over so I can get on to the fun stuff.
When I was 3 the son of a local preacher actually tried to molest me, I ran away. I never told a soul. I never forgot him though. I would see him often, one day when I was in college I had a flat tire on the side of the road and he actually stopped to help me change it. I declined and did it myself. The worst part of all is he was married someone I knew and they had little girls. It always haunted me, thankfully they were not married long.
When I was 16 my parents went on summer vacation, unfortuantely I could not go. I had enrolled in summer school to take my 11th grade English so I could skip that grade and go on to the 12th. My mother insisted that I could not stay at home alone because she was worried that I might have my boyfriend over, typical mother right. So I was sent to stay with someone on my paternal side of the family, not my father. While there 2 people attempted to molest me in the middle of the night, groping me and holding me down in the bed. I fought with all of my strength to get out of that room, the door was closed. I had to climb on top of furniture, because one was holding me down from underneath the bed and one was on top of me. When I burst through that door at 3am I woke the whole damn house up. Guess what, my Grandmother did no believe me she told me I was crazy, that I was dreaming about my boyfriend.
I called my other Grandmother who lived 2 hours away and told her what happened and she said she was on the way. Then I went to my Fathers house about 2 blocks away and banged on the door crying, no one would answer the door. So I jumped back in my car drove to a pay phone and called my boyfriend, who showed up from Blackville to Denmark in 5 minutes flat. He held me in his car while I cried for 3 hours, then he took me back to my Father's house and told him what had happened, my father did not believe me. My Step-mother did and she said she was so sorry. Needless to say my boyfriend had some choice words for my father. We left and he took me to his Grandparents house, until my grandparents could get to me and his grandparents took wonderful care of me, as did he. That is the day that I knew I loved him with all of my heart. I married him 2 years later.
For years I have had these dreams about a time when I was 12 or 13. I keep having the same dream over and over, about the same subject, the same place. I always wake up crying because of the person in the dream and what takes place in the dream. I have finally discovered that it is not a dream. That it is actually a memory of a time that I have buried because it is way to hard for me to deal with. I am dealing with it now as best as I can. This one is really hard for me. I am not sure if this one is forgivable. I am praying for guidance from God that he will show me the way. It is all that I can do, otherwise I will be lost forever in a world of hate and that is unacceptable to me. They say that time heals all wounds, I truly hope so...
When I was 3 the son of a local preacher actually tried to molest me, I ran away. I never told a soul. I never forgot him though. I would see him often, one day when I was in college I had a flat tire on the side of the road and he actually stopped to help me change it. I declined and did it myself. The worst part of all is he was married someone I knew and they had little girls. It always haunted me, thankfully they were not married long.
When I was 16 my parents went on summer vacation, unfortuantely I could not go. I had enrolled in summer school to take my 11th grade English so I could skip that grade and go on to the 12th. My mother insisted that I could not stay at home alone because she was worried that I might have my boyfriend over, typical mother right. So I was sent to stay with someone on my paternal side of the family, not my father. While there 2 people attempted to molest me in the middle of the night, groping me and holding me down in the bed. I fought with all of my strength to get out of that room, the door was closed. I had to climb on top of furniture, because one was holding me down from underneath the bed and one was on top of me. When I burst through that door at 3am I woke the whole damn house up. Guess what, my Grandmother did no believe me she told me I was crazy, that I was dreaming about my boyfriend.
I called my other Grandmother who lived 2 hours away and told her what happened and she said she was on the way. Then I went to my Fathers house about 2 blocks away and banged on the door crying, no one would answer the door. So I jumped back in my car drove to a pay phone and called my boyfriend, who showed up from Blackville to Denmark in 5 minutes flat. He held me in his car while I cried for 3 hours, then he took me back to my Father's house and told him what had happened, my father did not believe me. My Step-mother did and she said she was so sorry. Needless to say my boyfriend had some choice words for my father. We left and he took me to his Grandparents house, until my grandparents could get to me and his grandparents took wonderful care of me, as did he. That is the day that I knew I loved him with all of my heart. I married him 2 years later.
For years I have had these dreams about a time when I was 12 or 13. I keep having the same dream over and over, about the same subject, the same place. I always wake up crying because of the person in the dream and what takes place in the dream. I have finally discovered that it is not a dream. That it is actually a memory of a time that I have buried because it is way to hard for me to deal with. I am dealing with it now as best as I can. This one is really hard for me. I am not sure if this one is forgivable. I am praying for guidance from God that he will show me the way. It is all that I can do, otherwise I will be lost forever in a world of hate and that is unacceptable to me. They say that time heals all wounds, I truly hope so...
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