I am a survivor of extremely severe ritualistic childhood abuse and sadistic systematic torture. This blog has helped me get my voice back and documents the journey I'm on to heal from the trauma and damage caused by that appalling abuse. Now is the time for me to tell of MY experience by speaking the truth about MY life. I will be silenced no more! On this blog I share MY life, MY healing journey; helpful quotes/stuff I come across and MY thoughts along the way. The more I speak out the more liberated I am from the shame and trauma of the abuse. My broken wings are gradually being repaired. Without God in my life I wouldn't still be here. But somehow, I keep on staying alive, surviving and rarely, occasionally, living a little!

Friday, 13 August 2010

A Place Called Nothingness

As a child I had to endure the abuse. I also had to conceal my feelings about it. I endured in silence. I endured without tears. I endured without showing any outward sign that what they were doing was affecting me. I endured and endured beyond endurance. It was all about survival. Surviving meant never showing that I was affected by anything they did

But truth is - it did affect me.

Not only did I have to conceal my feelings, by being denied expression of my feelings I wasn’t actually allowed to have any feelings or opinions. But deep inside, there must be my true thoughts and feelings about it all, somewhere deep inside that silenced terrorised little girl.

It’s only now I’ve found the courage to speak out that I’ve been asked “how do you feel about the abuse?” Nobody has ever asked me how I felt about being abused? Many people over the years have taken it upon themselves to tell me how I ‘should’ feel, react or behave, which again denied me true expression of what I was really feeling or experiencing.

So I guess I’ve never really thought about how I feel about it. And anyway, I’ve just been busy staying alive, surviving behind a fake smile, doing what it takes to make it through, trying not to feel because, well because I don’t know what to do with feelings.

The first time I was asked how I felt about the abuse I shrugged my shoulders and said “err nothing really” but then I paused and heard myself say “actually I’m angry … so angry I could kill someone … and I feel deeply sad about all that could have been and wasn’t … oh and there’s guilt there … and I feel so ashamed, so horribly ashamed.”

Well it was a start but hang on, let’s be real here, I don’t tend to feel much. Often I go beyond feeing to a ‘numb’ place, which is nice for a while. It kinda gives me a break but I always end up getting shaken out of that place by something, whether it be a phone call or something else. I suppose ‘numb’ is only meant to be a transit place. I mostly oscillate between intense rage and deep sadness but there must be other feelings about the abuse somewhere inside of me. There must be more feelings than just those. I spose I’m not really connecting yet.

There’s another place I go that’s different to the ‘numb’ place. It’s a place of nothing at all. It’s a place I call ‘nothingness’. It’s a place where there are no feelings. There is absolutely nothing in this place. It’s hard to describe a place where there is nothing – no sound, no colour, no smell, no light, no darkness, no feelings, no hunger, no thirst, no desires, no shame, no hurt, no tiredness, no happiness, no hope, no sadness, no touch, no thinking, no guilt, no feeling ashamed, no, well no nothing - just nothing.

I’ve been scared of this ‘nothingness’ place but I think that ‘nothingness’ may be that silenced terrorised child. Maybe the ‘nothingness’ place is her. What did she do with those feelings she wasn’t allowed to have? They must be somewhere buried deep inside her because she had to bury them. Where are they?

I know that on the odd occasion I’ve allowed myself to feel … I feel violated to my very core … I feel an intensity of shame that goes far beyond the word ‘shame’ ... I feel dirty, filthy beyond words … I feel helpless … I feel naked and exposed … I feel alone, so very alone … I feel terror … I feel a type and depth of searing pain that goes way beyond any adjectives I know. I feel things I’ve not felt before, things I just cannot find words for.

But I don’t feel them for long because they’re so intense and scary. I wonder, are they her feelings or mine? Or a mixture of both? I dunno. But those feelings are there along with many I’ve not felt, noticed or identified yet.



Eve said...

I appreciate that you are being so honest. YOUR story needs to be read.....so that YOU may know that you are being heard and that YOU are cared for.


Thank you Eve!

I know only one way to live life and tell my story and that is with honesty and integrity.

My childhood was filled with lies, half truths, pretending, play acting and deception that as an adult I can only be honest.

Some people have said to me over the years 'tone it down, you're too brutally honest'. But I cannot tone it down, I can only tell it how it was and how it is.