When I was 9 years old I remember being homeless with my mother, sister and brother. My brother had a friend that took us in for the summer. It was probably the best summer of my life. My mom, sister and I all shared a bed in a room of our own, ate lots of good food, ate snacks that we had , hiding in our room. My brother stayed in with his friend. My mom and the parents of my brothers friend stayed up late talking and praying for people. Prior to that experience I have bits and pieces. I know we ended up homeless to begin with because of my parents separating. I know that my dad was not a kind father and still my mom took care of him when he came home drunk, angry and sick.
My dad used to bathe me. Is it truly possible that he hurt me in the bath like my one memory keeps showing me over and over again, could he do such a thing to me, he was always so proud of me...that is till he left us homeless. After that it was as if he didn't want us anymore but for some reason I didnt care or at least I surely think I'm better off with weekly phone calls. For awhile now I have been just sick over it all. I've finally been able to admit my memories to myself.
I know there's a lot that I have to process and get through with my therapist but this will be what we start working on tomorrow first. Of course I'm nervous but I remind myself that I am safe now and it's not happening all over again.
I have my dad, my moms friend, my first boyfriend, and my last boyfriend who have hurt me but seriously one thing at a time, it's not like the memories are going anywhere. What's the rush on healing right, at least I am trying. I just need to remember I survived. I'm a survivor. And no matter the time it takes to really feel comfortable in my own skin again that it will come, right?
My dad used to bathe me. Is it truly possible that he hurt me in the bath like my one memory keeps showing me over and over again, could he do such a thing to me, he was always so proud of me...that is till he left us homeless. After that it was as if he didn't want us anymore but for some reason I didnt care or at least I surely think I'm better off with weekly phone calls. For awhile now I have been just sick over it all. I've finally been able to admit my memories to myself.
I know there's a lot that I have to process and get through with my therapist but this will be what we start working on tomorrow first. Of course I'm nervous but I remind myself that I am safe now and it's not happening all over again.
I have my dad, my moms friend, my first boyfriend, and my last boyfriend who have hurt me but seriously one thing at a time, it's not like the memories are going anywhere. What's the rush on healing right, at least I am trying. I just need to remember I survived. I'm a survivor. And no matter the time it takes to really feel comfortable in my own skin again that it will come, right?