I am haunted by images and feelings that have no faces, no meanings. I know who didnt like me but still I cant place their face as perpetrator. This is before time had meaning and thoughts were just pictures. Words werent fully known and not assigned to their rightful place in my mind. I hear crying, yelling, berating, some of it me. I remember being held under water in the bath tub and scared beyond imagination. I was beat repeatedly and there is no face to blame. I remember in my small mind pleading for mercy without words. Night after night I was held down in bed barely being able to breathe and as I always explain it, "climbing an endless wall of blankets". The nights were also time for nightmares and devils coming out of the black hallway, evil laughing from space somewhere. My mother was later identified as one of the perps, But I cant imagine she did it all, because I was hardly ever with her. She gave me to whoever would take me, a neighbor, an uncle, grandma, babysitter. I remember countless houses as plain as day, but not one thing that occured within them. I could take you to them even now if they still exist. How can I remember so clearly going there and nothing else? I know that my moms side of the family were all against me. I suffered constantly whenever I was with any one of them. I remember boredom, fear, and humiliation beyond measure. I would literally be physically ill when I was to be in their care. My stuffed animals became my protectors and I drowned in them at night. Maybe if the mean ones couldnt find me amongst all those animals, I would be OK. One in particular was my champion, a very large purple poodle that my good grandma gave me to hug when I was hurting. Purple poodle became my safety amulate against all evil and if I hugged it tight enough, maybe it would all go away. That poodle was the butt of many jokes and teasing by the mean ones. It hurt me to have purple poodle treated badly.
The images of things, some of them genital, haunt me still. I will wake up gasping for air with the kind of fear one would have just before death. It continued in life as panic attacks that had no end. The sadness too continued. I dont ever remember being truly and purely happy like childhood is supposed to be. This continued on as depression so deep and dark, I couldnt find my way out of it. Anger also developed later and I became the perpetrator to friends and animals. I tore up every baby doll I ever had because I hated them so much. But I knew this was wrong, so I removed myself from the stimulus and the situation. I was afraid of myself, afraid of what I might do, afraid of what I might become. Life was never normal for me and I dont even know what normal feels like. Everything I know today, I taught myself because there wasnt any help for me. Most people dont even know my history, and when they ask why I am this way, Im at a loss as what to say. Ive been judged, hated, and feared by people who dont even know me. Ive been punished for things I didnt do. And the depression is ever present.
Maybe something can be learned from this posting. Think again that a child wont remember something because theyre too little. Think again that even one bad incident wont haunt them for the rest of their life. Many will be left perplexed as to why they are the way they are, with no faces or meaning behind it. They will think they are just inherently bad and start living up to their self image. They will recieve outside reinforcement from everyone around them that yes, they are indeed very bad and strange. They wont be able to argue this point because they wont remember anything except nightmares and demons. Maybe my gift is to be a voice for these children.
