Re-opening the wounds...
So, I have decided to write about some of my past ups and downs in my blog.
Writing about something that happened a few days ago and reliving it, processing it, and putting it away is one thing... Opening up the wounds from the past? That's a whole different ball park.
There are a lot of things that have happened in my past that I am in no way proud of, and horribly embarrassed to write about, as well as relive. My past tears my heart open and leaves it to bleed out on the floor, just watching.
But the first step in moving on and changing yourself is coming to terms with your past, processing those memories and emotions, and then putting them away, not to be forgotten, but to be forgiven instead.
Holy fuck (pardon that)! I am so anxious to write about what has happened to me as well as what I have done in the past. It really does haunt me...
I am so scared as to what people will think of me. It's a silly fear, really... The only opinion that matters is mine, but still... I just don't want to let anyone down, especially my family.
However, this is not about family, this is about me and helping others through their journeys.
I have decided to write about something that I have already processed through and moved passed in therapy. It's a little easier to start there and it kind of opens the door to why I have acted and behaved the way I have in other instances...
Here we go...
I was 15 years old, I had a long term boyfriend who I thought I was in love with, and more than anything I wanted to fit in.
I wasn't necessarily a social outcast or anything like that. I had a great group of friends, and I thought I got along with most of the people I went to school with. Either we were close, talked on occasion, or just didn't have to deal with each other.
Well, one summer day, I was at home when I received a text from one of my good friend's sister. We will call her Molly.
Molly and her boyfriend (we will call Rob) were going to party, and they wanted me to tag along. Awesome! So Molly and Rob came and picked me up at my house and we went to the liquor store (Rob was old enough) and they bought me some hard lemonade, a swim suit from Target, and some fast food for dinner. Then we went to a hotel to eat, drink, and party it up.
I thought it was strange they got a room with only one bed in it, but whatever... I can get handle the floor. But we ate dinner and then we put on our swim suits and went down to the pool... I don't remember anything about the pool really, but I do remember that when we got back to the hotel room after swimming Rob suggested we all start drinking and just stay in our swim suits in case we decided to go back to the pool. Okay, sounds logical.
So I had 3-5 drinks, and Molly and Rob must have thought that I was feeling pretty good. Little do they know that I have a higher tolerance than 5 hard lemonades can get to thanks to my parents always allowing my brother and me to sample various beers and wines at home with dinner.
But Molly and Rob were laying in the bed together and they said they were tired... I was kind of tired too. So they told me to come lay down.
I know you are screaming at your computer right now... "DON'T DO IT!!!" Well, I was young. I knew better, but I wanted so badly to party and have a great story to share with my friends that I pushed my inner thoughts to the back burner and laid down in bed with them.
I tried to close my eyes, but Molly and Rob started making out, and I was just... there... It was so awkward, and I started to have a burning feeling that something was not right about this situation.
Then it happened. Rob reached over and put his hand down my swim suit bottoms, and I froze. I was petrified with shock and fear... At the same time, my mind was racing... I couldn't keep up with my thoughts. Then the pot on the back burner boiled over and my inner thoughts screamed their way above all other thoughts, "GET UP AND GET OUT!"
So I pushed Rob off me and got up. I was hysterical... I started crying and yelling at the two of them. She had known me since I was a little girl and she and her boyfriend were trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me. It was all a little too clear now, and it hurt.
They tried to talk to me and tell me that wasn't their intention, but I didn't listen. I put my clothes on over my swim suit, grabbed my things and walked out. Unfortunately, I was a few towns away from home, so I called my boyfriend. I told him I needed him to come get me now, it was very important. He gave me some lame excuse that he had just gotten home and was too tired to come get me.
His exact words before hanging up on me were, "You'll figure it out."
I was in shock, again! How could he? How could they?
I sat down on the curb in front of the hotel and cried. People walked by and stared, but I didn't care... I was so broken, what did it matter what people thought of me at this point?
When I got a little more control of myself, I called my best friend at the time and her sister answered. I told her I needed a ride and it was very important. She was there in an instant.
I wanted to tell the police. I wanted to tell everyone the sick, perverted thing that had happened with these people we trusted. But I didn't. I was scared.
That's how they get away with it a lot of the time, or so I believe... banking on the fact that the child is too scared to tell anyone they were molested.
I eventually told my mom, brother, and husband. It took a long time for the words to actually come out of my mouth, but they found their way out. And it hurt. Hurt. Like. Hell.
I confronted Molly about it years later. She told me I didn't remember the events correctly, and that she would be happy to explain how it really happened in person. Yeah right. Molly's sister, my ex-friend, even got into with me. Telling me how I'm always the victim, and I like to play games with people. Funny. I don't remember choosing this life.
I talked about it with my therapist last summer because we just so happened to be going to the same place as Molly and her sisters and mother, and there was a chance I could see her there. I had to face this demon head-on and deal with it so I could handle it if I saw her. Because my initial reaction nowadays would be to throw down, but I'm better than that, and I know it.
I never saw Molly or her family, but I was on edge the whole time. Poor Matt... I kind of made his vacation miserable because of my anxiety.
I was able to process the whole experience, and I have decided not to put myself in anymore situations where I may run into Molly and her family. And I'm more prepared now if I do run into them. My therapist, God bless her, spent a lot of time helping me to finally forgive myself for my mistakes I made that day, as well as move past the pain and grow from it.
So, if anyone is reading this, and they are having a similar experience, you can stop it! You are strong enough! There are adults and people who care and love you enough to help you through this! Please don't let the cycle of abuse continue, end it with you! And if you ever need someone to talk to in confidence... I will always be here. Message/add me on Facebook... My name is Jillian Frost Anderson. Talk. Talk to someone. Anyone. Just talk.
Thanks for reading.
Writing about something that happened a few days ago and reliving it, processing it, and putting it away is one thing... Opening up the wounds from the past? That's a whole different ball park.
There are a lot of things that have happened in my past that I am in no way proud of, and horribly embarrassed to write about, as well as relive. My past tears my heart open and leaves it to bleed out on the floor, just watching.
But the first step in moving on and changing yourself is coming to terms with your past, processing those memories and emotions, and then putting them away, not to be forgotten, but to be forgiven instead.
Holy fuck (pardon that)! I am so anxious to write about what has happened to me as well as what I have done in the past. It really does haunt me...
I am so scared as to what people will think of me. It's a silly fear, really... The only opinion that matters is mine, but still... I just don't want to let anyone down, especially my family.
However, this is not about family, this is about me and helping others through their journeys.
I have decided to write about something that I have already processed through and moved passed in therapy. It's a little easier to start there and it kind of opens the door to why I have acted and behaved the way I have in other instances...
Here we go...
I was 15 years old, I had a long term boyfriend who I thought I was in love with, and more than anything I wanted to fit in.
I wasn't necessarily a social outcast or anything like that. I had a great group of friends, and I thought I got along with most of the people I went to school with. Either we were close, talked on occasion, or just didn't have to deal with each other.
Well, one summer day, I was at home when I received a text from one of my good friend's sister. We will call her Molly.
Molly and her boyfriend (we will call Rob) were going to party, and they wanted me to tag along. Awesome! So Molly and Rob came and picked me up at my house and we went to the liquor store (Rob was old enough) and they bought me some hard lemonade, a swim suit from Target, and some fast food for dinner. Then we went to a hotel to eat, drink, and party it up.
I thought it was strange they got a room with only one bed in it, but whatever... I can get handle the floor. But we ate dinner and then we put on our swim suits and went down to the pool... I don't remember anything about the pool really, but I do remember that when we got back to the hotel room after swimming Rob suggested we all start drinking and just stay in our swim suits in case we decided to go back to the pool. Okay, sounds logical.
So I had 3-5 drinks, and Molly and Rob must have thought that I was feeling pretty good. Little do they know that I have a higher tolerance than 5 hard lemonades can get to thanks to my parents always allowing my brother and me to sample various beers and wines at home with dinner.
But Molly and Rob were laying in the bed together and they said they were tired... I was kind of tired too. So they told me to come lay down.
I know you are screaming at your computer right now... "DON'T DO IT!!!" Well, I was young. I knew better, but I wanted so badly to party and have a great story to share with my friends that I pushed my inner thoughts to the back burner and laid down in bed with them.
I tried to close my eyes, but Molly and Rob started making out, and I was just... there... It was so awkward, and I started to have a burning feeling that something was not right about this situation.
Then it happened. Rob reached over and put his hand down my swim suit bottoms, and I froze. I was petrified with shock and fear... At the same time, my mind was racing... I couldn't keep up with my thoughts. Then the pot on the back burner boiled over and my inner thoughts screamed their way above all other thoughts, "GET UP AND GET OUT!"
So I pushed Rob off me and got up. I was hysterical... I started crying and yelling at the two of them. She had known me since I was a little girl and she and her boyfriend were trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me. It was all a little too clear now, and it hurt.
They tried to talk to me and tell me that wasn't their intention, but I didn't listen. I put my clothes on over my swim suit, grabbed my things and walked out. Unfortunately, I was a few towns away from home, so I called my boyfriend. I told him I needed him to come get me now, it was very important. He gave me some lame excuse that he had just gotten home and was too tired to come get me.
His exact words before hanging up on me were, "You'll figure it out."
I was in shock, again! How could he? How could they?
I sat down on the curb in front of the hotel and cried. People walked by and stared, but I didn't care... I was so broken, what did it matter what people thought of me at this point?
When I got a little more control of myself, I called my best friend at the time and her sister answered. I told her I needed a ride and it was very important. She was there in an instant.
I wanted to tell the police. I wanted to tell everyone the sick, perverted thing that had happened with these people we trusted. But I didn't. I was scared.
That's how they get away with it a lot of the time, or so I believe... banking on the fact that the child is too scared to tell anyone they were molested.
I eventually told my mom, brother, and husband. It took a long time for the words to actually come out of my mouth, but they found their way out. And it hurt. Hurt. Like. Hell.
I confronted Molly about it years later. She told me I didn't remember the events correctly, and that she would be happy to explain how it really happened in person. Yeah right. Molly's sister, my ex-friend, even got into with me. Telling me how I'm always the victim, and I like to play games with people. Funny. I don't remember choosing this life.
I talked about it with my therapist last summer because we just so happened to be going to the same place as Molly and her sisters and mother, and there was a chance I could see her there. I had to face this demon head-on and deal with it so I could handle it if I saw her. Because my initial reaction nowadays would be to throw down, but I'm better than that, and I know it.
I never saw Molly or her family, but I was on edge the whole time. Poor Matt... I kind of made his vacation miserable because of my anxiety.
I was able to process the whole experience, and I have decided not to put myself in anymore situations where I may run into Molly and her family. And I'm more prepared now if I do run into them. My therapist, God bless her, spent a lot of time helping me to finally forgive myself for my mistakes I made that day, as well as move past the pain and grow from it.
So, if anyone is reading this, and they are having a similar experience, you can stop it! You are strong enough! There are adults and people who care and love you enough to help you through this! Please don't let the cycle of abuse continue, end it with you! And if you ever need someone to talk to in confidence... I will always be here. Message/add me on Facebook... My name is Jillian Frost Anderson. Talk. Talk to someone. Anyone. Just talk.
Thanks for reading.
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