We need to write about stuff. We keep thinking about it and we know a few things we should be writing about and know that we need to do so and yet the exhaustion and overwhelming sleep urges keep us away. I think we’re only able to write this much because we are simply not saying anything really at all.
Someone/s inside started telling about a memory in a story format and 3rd person format and information was revealed that way when we laid down one night and started searching within and thinking about a particular memory we’ve had for a long time now and trying to find the truth about what really happened amongst tiny pieces of stuff. Basically we were trying to find out if we were a willing participant in a memory involving what we believed to be abuse and whether we wanted these things or was agreeable or something. Like to what degree are we responsible for this and do we really have the right to feel and think and believe it is abuse because maybe it wasn’t and we just had a reaction to it and need to believe it was abuse because it is safer to believe it was abusive than face the reality that we were some fucked up little kid at 7 and 8 years old that was willing and instigating and wanting intercourse and anal sex and oral sex and everything else adult oriented sex wise with some other kid a little bit older than us. Except in doing the 3rd person and someone inside recounting a narrative of what this part or that part saw and observed and was thinking and feeling, etc., we’ve learned (thus far) that we weren’t willing but we were definitely reacting in a trained manner of giving him what he wanted because “that’s what you do.” (sarcastically) Why thank you father for all those previous years of training. Why thank you to the others who were and had been abusing us, if ya know, we’re not making up that SRA and other crap. (end sarcasm) So we are coming to the realization that even though (thus far) we don’t recall specifically saying, “no” in this particular memory, the thoughts, feelings, worries, anxiety, and other things we recall thus far do indicate that we didn’t really want to do these things, err…sex acts. Yet we also knew that he wanted these things and there was some sort of inner knowledge or belief or something that we didn’t think we could say no or that it would do us any good, or there were other reasons we felt we had to do this stuff, although we tried in other ways to get it to not happen. We were actually more focused on other things and the mother and our fears, anxiety, and so forth of some other stuff than over what we had to do with him. We’re not really being specific here. All of this is still hard to fucking write, which is so frustrating to some of us, because some of us want it to be no big deal, but it is a big deal.
So the sadness we’ve been feeling is deeper than before. Perhaps it isn’t so much sadness as it is grieving or perhaps grief stricken sadness.
So okay, we’ve said this much. We’re hoping we’ll be able to at least write a narrative or 3rd person viewpoint of sharing the memory and then after that, to write it more from the first point of view from others inside. We’re doing all that we can to steadily keep working on these memories that we’ve had for many years but never gave them the attention they needed and deserved, and certainly minimized them greatly… until now that is. Well, not minimizing them like we’ve done in the past. We’re seeing now more than ever before that these “basic” and “bits of memories we’ve had for many years and thought since we’ve known about them for so long they don’t really matter that much and aren’t that critical to work on in therapy,” really do need our attention and there is tons of healing and issues surrounding them. OMG, we totally realize the depth of issues and shame and things and deeply regret not having dealt with them on this level ever before this and barely dealt with them period the past 16-17 years of therapy, but we are dealing with them now. We’re finally ready. The negative repercussions of never having dealt with them and not being ready and not giving them the attention that these memories and this hurt and pain has deserved all these years is just really hard to take. A lot of regret and a lot of negative feelings and thoughts to self/ves for having waited this damn long to finally look at this stuff and realize it needs a shit load of healing and that this is where we need to start with in regards to doing memory work.
So well anyway, this stuff sucks and is damn hard to do and to keep looking at and working through. We’ve never kept our attention and focus on any one healing subject matter for so long like we’ve had lately over this. It is never far from our mind or heart and even when we’re dealing with something else that comes up in therapy or life, we still keep returning back to this subject matter and that is a first for us. We’ve always had such competing agendas in therapy and yes, that stuff is still happening in therapy and thus we keep jumping from topic to topic to issue to issue to blah blah blah in therapy and in life and what we’re focusing on, but the difference is that there is one overall riding issue that continues to remain in the near background or right upfront and that is the memories and issues surrounding the neighbor boy that abused us. We haven’t even gotten into the stuff regarding his older brother. There is one memory by one insider who has a sadistic memory of his older brother abusing him (insider) with the neighbor boy watching and there. Uggh. Not sure what, if any, other memories lie with the older brother of the neighbor boy.
We’ve got to get the courage to say first names. Fuck it. Why protect them? Why be afraid of this? Why does it matter so much? Why not just say the names?
So anyway, yah, whoopee, in some ways our system is agreeing (for the most part) and working hard to cooperate and to keep focused (more or less) on the memories and issues surrounding the neighbor boy. We are trying really hard to work through these things and have healing over it so that we can let it go and move past it and for it to not have its horrific grip on us and for the shame, the utter and deep shame and badness that stems from his abuse and what we did, for it to be healed and for it to not have its tragic hold on us and on our life.
I heard inside someone say, “The End.” Not sure what that is about but anyway, we’ve got to go. We’ve said way way wayyyyy tooo much.
Us, US, Julies, others