Muruluisku
Bronze Member
Thank you everyone for the encouragement with getting referred to therapy.
I know I should try and start therapy soon before I go completely crazy. Only every time I think of being trapped in a therapy room with a stranger I get really scared. I remember mum leaving me in this big room with a police woman, who asked me lots of questions.
I have asked my mum about this memory before, and mum explained there was some kind of police investigation going on in the neighbourhood. They invited all the children in the neighbourhood to a one-to-one police interview. This was early 90s and I was six at the time and it was the summer I was due to start my pre-school (in Finland, where I lived my childhood, kids don't start formal education until they're seven).
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I have never been to a police station before, but mum says it's okay and that the police lady will be nice. We wait in the waiting room and there are some other kids waiting too, they seem older than me. When my name is called mummy takes me by the hand and walks with me into the big room. Mummy leaves me there, and the police lady says I can play with the toys that are laid out on the floor.
I start making a puzzle and the lady talks to me. I don't want to listen, I want to focus on getting the puzzle pieces right. Then she comes to sit next to me, she has some dolls on her lap. I don't want to play with dolls, I don't like them because baddie uncle likes dolls and says I look like one. The baddie uncle hasn't been to see me for a while because I have been so good. Mummy said only yesterday how good I was dragging the laundry out of the machine and by the washing line ready for mummy to hang. The line is too high for me to reach to hang the washing, but I can do most other jobs. If I can't do a job because I'm not big enough then that doesn't count as being bad, does it?
The lady starts taking the dolls' clothes off and says they are special dolls, like a real man, woman, girl and a boy. She asks if I can tell which is which by looking at their bodies. I say nothing, I want my mummy. Why did she leave me here?
The lady says sometimes adults like to play certain games with children, she shows with the dolls what she means by that. I know what she is doing, the baddie uncle does that to me. I am really really scared now, the lady takes the woman doll and does things to the little girl doll. I stare at the floor and say nothing although the lady asks lots of questions.
If the lady finds out I know how to play those games, she will surely take her clothes off and mine and want me to play with her. I mustn't utter a word, I will keep very still and quiet and she won't find out. And then I haven't broken the promise not to tell and the baddie uncle won't come to hurt me either.
*************************************************************************************************************************
That's all I can remember, appart from the panick and the total, all consuming fear of having to say something to the lady and what would happen if I did. When I asked mum whether she can remember anything about this, she got very upset and said my year of silence started from that police interview.
I was mute for a year throughout my preschool, not that I can remember that part really... But all my pre-school reports that are in my keepsake box say I appear otherwise within the normal development, but remain mute. Pretty much same sentence in each report.
Mum said she was never told what the investigation was about but, that when I came out I was deathly pale and wouldn't utter a word. Mum said, that when I didn't start talking she took me to our GP, a pediatrician and a speech therapist but nothing helped. She blamed the police.
I don't remember being mute, and I don't remember much about my pre school time. I have some vague memories of the pre school teacher taking me into the little guiet corner to do some tests or games with a doctor who had come to see me especially. I didn't want to be alone with strangers in case they wanted to play with naked dolls or with my body, but I don't think I would have said as much, being mute as I was.
I started talking again on my first year at real school when I was seven. I guess it helped that my teacher didn't pay any special attention to me and I felt safe, part of the group. I remember after the first school day the teacher talked to each parent and child together encouraging the child to tell the parent about their first day at school. When she came to us I remember speaking out loud answering with one word sentences to everything that the teacher prompted me to say. I remember mum cried, and the teacher said to me it was happy crying and that mummy liked to hear me tell her about my day. I felt happy and important.
On the way back home I remember asking mum if I looked like a baby doll. She said I didn't, because I was a big girl now starting school and I wasn't a baby anymore. I remember feeling such relief and knowing I could forget all about the baddie uncle now, he would not come to hurt me anymore as I didn't look like a baby doll.. That's why he hadn't been to hurt me for a long long time.
I don't think I ever saw him after the interview with the police. All I needed to worry about was thunder, because I knew that could make people bad, people like my daddy who I loved and who otherwise was good. But I also knew that I loved my new teacher and my new big school.
I really don't know how to make myself go into a therapy room with a therapist I don't know and who directs all their attention to me :(
<3: Muru
I know I should try and start therapy soon before I go completely crazy. Only every time I think of being trapped in a therapy room with a stranger I get really scared. I remember mum leaving me in this big room with a police woman, who asked me lots of questions.
I have asked my mum about this memory before, and mum explained there was some kind of police investigation going on in the neighbourhood. They invited all the children in the neighbourhood to a one-to-one police interview. This was early 90s and I was six at the time and it was the summer I was due to start my pre-school (in Finland, where I lived my childhood, kids don't start formal education until they're seven).
**********************
I have never been to a police station before, but mum says it's okay and that the police lady will be nice. We wait in the waiting room and there are some other kids waiting too, they seem older than me. When my name is called mummy takes me by the hand and walks with me into the big room. Mummy leaves me there, and the police lady says I can play with the toys that are laid out on the floor.
I start making a puzzle and the lady talks to me. I don't want to listen, I want to focus on getting the puzzle pieces right. Then she comes to sit next to me, she has some dolls on her lap. I don't want to play with dolls, I don't like them because baddie uncle likes dolls and says I look like one. The baddie uncle hasn't been to see me for a while because I have been so good. Mummy said only yesterday how good I was dragging the laundry out of the machine and by the washing line ready for mummy to hang. The line is too high for me to reach to hang the washing, but I can do most other jobs. If I can't do a job because I'm not big enough then that doesn't count as being bad, does it?
The lady starts taking the dolls' clothes off and says they are special dolls, like a real man, woman, girl and a boy. She asks if I can tell which is which by looking at their bodies. I say nothing, I want my mummy. Why did she leave me here?
The lady says sometimes adults like to play certain games with children, she shows with the dolls what she means by that. I know what she is doing, the baddie uncle does that to me. I am really really scared now, the lady takes the woman doll and does things to the little girl doll. I stare at the floor and say nothing although the lady asks lots of questions.
If the lady finds out I know how to play those games, she will surely take her clothes off and mine and want me to play with her. I mustn't utter a word, I will keep very still and quiet and she won't find out. And then I haven't broken the promise not to tell and the baddie uncle won't come to hurt me either.
*************************************************************************************************************************
That's all I can remember, appart from the panick and the total, all consuming fear of having to say something to the lady and what would happen if I did. When I asked mum whether she can remember anything about this, she got very upset and said my year of silence started from that police interview.
I was mute for a year throughout my preschool, not that I can remember that part really... But all my pre-school reports that are in my keepsake box say I appear otherwise within the normal development, but remain mute. Pretty much same sentence in each report.
Mum said she was never told what the investigation was about but, that when I came out I was deathly pale and wouldn't utter a word. Mum said, that when I didn't start talking she took me to our GP, a pediatrician and a speech therapist but nothing helped. She blamed the police.
I don't remember being mute, and I don't remember much about my pre school time. I have some vague memories of the pre school teacher taking me into the little guiet corner to do some tests or games with a doctor who had come to see me especially. I didn't want to be alone with strangers in case they wanted to play with naked dolls or with my body, but I don't think I would have said as much, being mute as I was.
I started talking again on my first year at real school when I was seven. I guess it helped that my teacher didn't pay any special attention to me and I felt safe, part of the group. I remember after the first school day the teacher talked to each parent and child together encouraging the child to tell the parent about their first day at school. When she came to us I remember speaking out loud answering with one word sentences to everything that the teacher prompted me to say. I remember mum cried, and the teacher said to me it was happy crying and that mummy liked to hear me tell her about my day. I felt happy and important.
On the way back home I remember asking mum if I looked like a baby doll. She said I didn't, because I was a big girl now starting school and I wasn't a baby anymore. I remember feeling such relief and knowing I could forget all about the baddie uncle now, he would not come to hurt me anymore as I didn't look like a baby doll.. That's why he hadn't been to hurt me for a long long time.
I don't think I ever saw him after the interview with the police. All I needed to worry about was thunder, because I knew that could make people bad, people like my daddy who I loved and who otherwise was good. But I also knew that I loved my new teacher and my new big school.
I really don't know how to make myself go into a therapy room with a therapist I don't know and who directs all their attention to me :(
<3: Muru
