i don't think i've actually posted something in here since i joined the community, so i figure now's as good a time as ever. my name is monica, and i'm a 19 year old college sophomore.
i don't know if the lj cut thing worked, but it's just a long entry, not so much triggering i don't think. based on what my mom and sister have said, i believe my uncle molested me starting when i was about 4. my sister (5 at the time) was also abused. it's weird how your mind can lock things away to allow you to function normally. my parents found out about what was going on when my sister was in kindergarten because my mom asked the question all parents fear the answer to - after my sister told her a girl in her class was talking about what happened to her. my uncle is only about 10 years older than me, and my mom's youngest brother.
so enough background info. i think i'm at a very good place in my life. up until freshman year of college what happened to me was thought about from a distance, like a book i read in grade school. never actually my own experience. that hasn't changed though, but my own perception of things has. almost exactly a year ago, my sister revealed to me (mom told her) that one of our aunts was molested by her older brother. and later we found out that our grandma was molested by her older brother too. so it's a horrible conspiracy of silence and abuse that got passed down somehow. 2004 was the hardest year of my life having to deal with so much and being 7 hours from home. that was when i realized i needed to see a counselor. one of the things she told me when i stopped going was to remember that i went through the abuse too, and i don't need to minimalize my trauma just because i think it's nothing in comparison. i have a problem with that. i would rather carry the weight of the world than think of myself as having gone through a horrible trauma and sharing that with other people. i'm not emotional, in fact i've never cried in a movie. but winter term last year i lost it - i couldn't focus on anything, though amazingly i still got a's and b's in all my classes, but one. my parents have always supported my sister and me and have always let us know how much they love us, but gave us space to talk to them when we needed to. i never saw it as an issue. i finally started talking about what happened to me last year after my sister told me what she remembered and i found out about our other relatives. for me, sharing my story was theraputic.
the last night of spring break my parents talked with my uncle about everything. i was actually at my aunt's house (we stayed there since my parents brought me back to school) in her room while the 3 of them talked. it's weird because i actually pity him for the mental anguish he has suffered over his horrible past. i think i even want to forgive him, though i don't think i have enough courage to talk to him yet. but while he was talking to my parents he told them he didn't remember ever having done anything to me. when my mom told me this i literally saw pieces of my world falling apart. since i have almost no memory of what happened this made me doubt that anything ever had happened. i felt like maybe i had been lying to people my whole life, anyone i'd told. that week was when i knew i had to see the counselor because i couldn't stop crying over fear of building this man (who did abuse my sister and me) up to be a horrible person. how crazy is that? i realized though that the way i was feeling, my one vague memory, and the things i remembered acting in my childhood all told me that i wasn't lying.
i actually gave a speech on child molestation in my public speaking class, in front of 20 students i hardly knew. i told them my story - kind of my own personal testimony. a friend and i even did a freshmen group discussion about sexual abuse before college, and we each shared our stories with a small group of girls (strangely enough no guys came...). now i'm not afraid to tell people, though i've become somewhat guarded about who i tell. people i don't really know aren't on my list of people who need to hear it. but i almost want to go to schools and talk about it. let people know that sexual abuse happens long before school starts and teachers need to be prepared.
so that's what happened...well long after the actual abuse. i tend to ramble on and go off in tangents when i write. sorry if anyone gets lost.