For First Time Visitors

If you are a first time visitor to this blog, I invite you to start from the beginning, especially if you are unfamiliar with the potential emotional impact of long-term child abuse.

Trigger caution to unhealed survivors!

Understanding the Incomprehensible

Children of incest or long-term sexual abuse grow up to be wounded adults with complicated emotional issues. Unfortunately, some symptoms are misinterpreted or often dismissed as "crazy", only serving to maintain a tormented victim status. We, as a society, have the power to change this dynamic. Each of us can make a difference.

Nov 16, 2011

Internal Understanding vs. External Belief

I am the first to admit the answers uncovered from my decades of amnesia have been unbelievable from the very beginning. It is most difficult to explain how answers come together from a massive cloud of amnesia that was a person's life and it is individual for each survivor. We don't make this stuff up. I believe I'm certainly not the first looking to prove what I'm remembering can't possibly be true. However, there comes a time when the level of unbelievability has a rhyme and reason to it. No one ever wanted anyone to believe what happened to us.

My most recent post still has me whirling and riddled with enormous emotions. I'm sure explaining this process of healing sounds possibly lacking in emotion to make sense of it as a cohesive narrative, but it is definitely not the case.

I know not all who read my blog believe my truth. Since much can't be validated in a court of law, it is my truth alone. However the enormity of survivors around the world with similar memories leads us to believe the same traumas seem to occur, just in different locations and by different people. Most of us do believe there is a manual, for lack of a better term, because what they do to create a dissociative child to become a skilled multitasked "slave" well into adulthood has been proven to work.

I don't ask for belief of my story per se to those who are not survivors. I know other survivors of this nightmare find solace and possibly some validation from the similar types of things they see in my history. But for those seeing this blog and writing it off as absurd, you are the people who allow such horrors to continue so widely and in plain sight. My purpose for this blog has always been to ask for an open mind so the next time you see or hear of something similar, your awareness grows.

It has taken me since 1997 to recover what I have and still there are tons of gaps in my life. I think only certain memories surface to give us some kind of timeline and meaning. Some memories have come up and processed on their own or in a single therapy session while others, like that in the last post, have been trying to come up for 15 years now. I'm sure it's not the last but possibly I'm getting close. The last post was not about memory as much as my history which can only come from an internal source of knowing. I suggest a resource in the post. None of it is easy to comprehend.

I thank my followers and especially those who support me. I'd like to share the huge anger that came from me as an aftermath to knowing of my possible origins. The Polyvore art was done after the writing.


I hate that I had this life
I hate that what was done to me interferes with having a good present day life
I hate that amnesia affects me nearly every day in some regard
I hate the struggle of being me
I hate the strain that being me places on every other relationship in my life
I hate wrestling everyday between dreams for the future or dying so I can just stop this constant battle
I hate that I am back at square one with who I am

I am wrought with grief that I was likely a hidden child made through an agreement with the government and the man who called himself my father
I hate that I live every day in fear of my life 
I belong to no one. I relate to no one as family. I am alone. Aside from my current loving relationship, I feel I have no worth except to those I help online.
I hate this strong anger I am feeling while releasing these thoughts.

I hate that I hate my life and more than anything wish for a glimmer of who I truly am


Anonymous said...

its like they took everything away. memories, family, acknowledgement of our strength to survive, life, joy, peace, our real names...everything that makes us human.

Grace said...

Yes, they did. When I was a therapist, I worked with a then 6-year-old who had been in that world less than two years. He remembered almost everything. Even at that young age, he was so sad about his name because they made him feel ashamed of just being him. Their tactics are beyond emotional and physical torture. "Abuse" is far too mild. Thank you for your insightful words.

Rosie said...

While I didn't survive designer DID I did survive RA. I like you didn't have complete memories until I was over 30. Then they flooded in like water. I am only now really talking about it and it has been 20 years. I like you have started a blog to share my story. Until your blog I had no idea that there was a systematic process that was intentionally causes people to have DID for some greater good. Keep up the good work. Rosie

Grace said...

Thank you for speaking your truth, Rosie, and for sharing here. If the real world had any idea how common our kind of abuse was, they would be too stunned to deal with it. But one by one, maybe we can make a change.

Rosie said...

I hope we can Grace. If you'd like feel free to stop by my blog. Have a great evening! Rosie

Alice of the Clowder said...

I don't know how my dissociative system was formed just yet, but I do know I've said the prayer, "Dear God, please visit so-and-so when they're out of the body and show them their true identity and worth," almost enough to give it the quality of a litany or jamais vu. And I know I will need to say it many more times as my system continues to unfold.

As I've said to some of my alters, thank you for staying alive through the times when it feels like you've nothing left. I know it will have been worth it when all's said and done.