HOW MY ABUSE HURT ME

But didn't destroy me
  1. So some of you may know
    I was sexually abused as a kid for many years. And it really messed me up. I didn't talk about it for a long time. It ended when I was nine and I didn't tell anyone until I was fourteen. I made some very bad choices as a teen and put myself in some bad situations because of it: I have healed from it, so I wanted to share my journey.
  2. It took me years to know it was abuse
    I was so young when it happened. I'm convinced I know when it began, but after years of therapy and looking into my behavior, it's possible that it began way sooner than I realized.
  3. I used humor/anger to destroy anything that could make me happy
    I wanted nothing to do with anything that could potentially mean something. And if you told me you loved me, chances were I was going to run. And run fast.
  4. I threw away some incredible opportunities
    Because fear controlled everything I did for such a long time. And I jumped into some vey serious life decisions rather quickly because once I felt I had control of my life I just could not wait to make my own decisions, even if they were hasty.
  5. I blamed myself
    For years. Actually, for over a decade after the abuse stopped. I actually really believed it was my fault. And I didn't think I was worthy of being with anyone that didn't objectify me or treat me badly in some way.
  6. But then my daughter was born
    And I knew I had to get better. I wanted to be a good mom. A good person. And she gave me the courage to start taking the steps towards healing that I needed to take.
  7. So I began therapy, for real this time.
    In high school my dad made me go to therapy. I manipulated my sessions and got the therapist to agree to let me go to group instead. At group I was the jerk that used humor to avoid really talking. I masked my own need for healing by listening to other people's stories and getting them to talk about them. It worked, I got out of group without ever really facing my own issues.
  8. In college my friend advised me to go to therapy
    So I did it, because part of being a victim is wanting to please people. But once again I manipulated my sessions and got my young, psychology student to focus on my love life instead. I even got her to tell me I self healed.
  9. So finally, three therapists later, I went back
    And I almost left before my appointment started. But I had a daughter to think about. And I knew I would continue to have panic attacks every moment I wasn't with her if I didn't take care of this. I had started fearing that people were going to do to her what was done to me.
  10. It took two years
    Deep intensive therapy. Painful memories I didn't want to conjure up. Things I had never talked about or even really thought about. It was six months of me being the most difficult patient ever. Just picture Matt Damon in good will hunting. Not even joking.
  11. It took so much support
    From friends who loved me. People who saw past my walls. People who truly, deeply cared.
  12. It took so much work
    It was not easy. It was not fun. But in the end, it was worth it. Maybe you don't believe in therapy, maybe you don't think you need help. But just know, if you find yourself still blaming yourself, please know...it wasn't your fault. And you deserve healing.