Jill
When I was eleven years old my parents sent me to a new sitter. It was supposed to be fun, because my best friend was going too. I wish I could tell you all sorts of details. Not that the details are fun or nice, or polite. But all the same I wish I could share them.
I remember being 20-years-old and that same best friend asked me for a drive. She pulled over on the side of the rode and said, “I am charring Tom for what he did to us.” I remember the angry look of betrayal when I told my friend I did not understand her. As she spit out the words, “Don’t pretend you can’t remember being abused and raped for three years.” (Tom was the adult son of the new sitter I had gone to. He was in his early 20’s.)
I did not remember. On the surface one would think this is a good thing. It is not. Shortly after the car ride, I was asked to talk with the police. They had photos. He kept photos. I looked at them unable even in the face of them to remember. The awful horrible images repulsed me, and I understood that they were of me. No memory. I could see it in their faces, all of them thinking I was pretending to not remember.
The pictures were of me tied up naked. Things inside me. Those Polaroids were faded, but not enough to not recognize me, and what those images were of. How could I not remember those awful things? My friend threw the details of disgusting abuse at me. I still did not remember. I knew it was real, I was not in denial.
I can tell what I do remember. I remember the look on my father’s face when he found out. That look has never really left his face some 18 years latter. My parents will always see me as the daughter they could not help. I hate their guilt.
I remember the pain it caused my friend to know that I would be testifying that I had no memories. I remember how it made me feel like I was betraying her.
I remember how it felt to have the defense lawyer suggest that my lack of memories was an indication of how little the events impacted me.
I want to remember. My whole adult life has been a series of bad choices. A series of failed relationships. What is me, what is the abuse, I don’t even know.
I want to own my memories. I don’t want him to own them. I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m 12-years-old, and my voice isn’t really my own. How dare he have the memories. They are mine and I want them back.
34 Responses to “Jill”
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I know that look of guilt. I’ve seen it on my own father’s face–the way it eats away at him, like he didn’t protect his daughter.
How horrifying that his defense attorney would suggest that, instead of the glaring reality which is that the memories were too much for your 12 year old mind to handle, to process. I hope you get your memories back, but I hope also that you can release them like a fistful of butterflies, because while they are your memories and part of you, they shouldn’t reduce you. You are a survivor.
I wish I had a solution to this. All I can say is, I think you’re incredibly brave for sharing and accepting your history. Take heart in knowing we are here to listen and offer any form of support we can.
I wish you peace and courage.
~ Jaded16.
I remember very little. I remember that something happened, but I don’t have clear memories – sort of like how you’ve been told and seen proof, but can’t remember. It’s a very very frustrating thing to deal with.
*hugs*
Thank you for sharing YOUR memories. YOUR story.
That you don’t remember is a normal act of self-preservation in response to the fact that what you experienced was too horrific to bear. By telling us here, you are courageously reclaiming your right to your story. One word at a time. And people like that defense attorney are the worst kinds of people. Best wishes on your journey to peace, whether it comes through remembering or not. And thank you.
this voice and this post is your own.
i remember very little as well. and it’s haunting.
thank you for speaking out.
i wish you peace.
It’s brave to admit you don’t remember, because it’s your truth. It may not be what you want it be yet, but it’s still authentic.
I’m so sorry for what you’ve had to go through, and it’s not fair that you’ve had to experience this. I wish I could help, but all I can say is just remember that you are loved, even by people like me who don’t even know you.
I can really relate to this. About 6 months ago some memories came back to me and hit me like a ton of bricks. I think the situation was so traumatizing that I blocked it out and really forgot about it for many many years until something triggered it and it came back.
*HUGS* I”m so sorry you are going through this.
I can relate to this as well. As I’ve gone through a recovery program to try to discover the root of my anger, trust, and codependency issues, memories have begun creeping in. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. And to have pictures thrown in your face…I can’t imagine.
I know a few people in similar situations, including someone particular dear to me. They know something happened, but they don’t know what or with whom…It eats at them too. You are not alone.
Your mind protected you from something you could not bear. I pray that with time you find peace, even if you never find those memories. Thank you for sharing your story.
I am so sorry. It can’t be easy to have such a hole in your own memories. It is very brave of you to share this here.
I have more holes than memories about my past. Just pieces. Flashes.
In my experience, those memories I need to have in order to heal have come back when I was ready. Not necessarily when I wanted them or thought I was ready. And just enough to heal, not all of them.
I believe that in my case a big part of why I don’t have the memories is because I dissociated. In a very real sense, I was not there when the abuse happened. So I don’t remember. But my body was there. And it remembers. Sometimes someone will touch my shoulder or my back in a particular way and a flood of fear will come over me. It is an implicit memory. My body remembers what happened and knows that it was something scary.
Even without the memories I am healing. It takes a great deal of time and patience. And I have to be incredibly understanding of myself. Forgiving of myself for not remembering.
I hope you can be kind to yourself through this process. Show yourself the same understanding you would show a good friend. Others may not be kind to you, but you can take care of yourself.
I pray that you will find the healing and peace that you desire.
If you stare into those pictures and see yourself but truly do not remember those events, try to be at peace with the honesty of the situation. Your mind blocked out those horrific memories. It was an act of self-preservation. You have not betrayed anyone by telling the truth. It is repulsive that a defense lawyer would suggest that you were not really hurt by the actions of your molester. It suggests that he sees child molestation as no big deal. That’s frightening. Thank you for sharing your story. There will be someone in a similar situation who reads this and will be grateful for what you wrote.
I don’t remember a whole lot either. I struggle a lot about whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. ((HUGS)) You are a strong woman for having gone through what you did and protecting yourself by “forgetting” the abuse. Thanks for sharing your story.
So many people would wish to forget. What a poignant reminder that blocked memories can cause more pain than unblocked memories. I’m praying for your healing. Bless you for sharing.
it might be grace that has kept your memories, not him.
i’m so sorry for your pain.
My older sister suffered horrific abuse as a child and teenager. She’s almost 50 now and STILL unrembered details sneak up on her and knock her to her knees.
It does happen that way, victims do block out the details of their abuse. You are not alone and I am grateful that you shared your story. You’ve helped more people than you know by validating their stories with your own.
Thank you for speaking out and for sharing your feelings. I’m sorry for what happened to you and especially angry at the prosecutor.
It must have been so tough seeing those pictures but not being able to recall the events. I really don’t know what to say but I think by telling what happened, you are a voice to others that know somethings happened but can’t recall it either. I think there are a lot out there. Hang in there.
My heart hurts for you. I’m sending you love and light and healing.
I am so sorry you went through this. Thank you for speaking out, and may healing and peace wash over you.
Thank you for sharing your story.. forgetting is not your fault.. im sure thats the way you are being protected from the horrible things you had to face as a child.. I pray that God gives you all the strength and courage that you need right now to heal and to lead a wonderful life.. at the same time i hope and pray that the pepertrator is brought to justice..
I remember some of my abuse, but not all. And I thank my faulty memory for this every single day. I don’t want to know.
Faced with the pictures again though, I don’t know if I could be so strong or sure.
You are not a failure for your own mind protecting you. It will come. I get pieces every so often, and I let them wash through and over me.
Forgive yourself. Remembering or forgetting, it is not your fault.
Thank you for speaking up. I’m glad that I’m not alone in that I don’t remember, but sad that there is someone else out there who doesn’t remember, either. You’re strong.
Thank you for this post.
I am 28 years old and only starting to piece together some odd memories and the way I have lived my life now.
This past week particularly I have been doubting myself, feeling that since I don”t have a clear memory, perhaps I am just being paranoid and I should not pursue this any longer.
Your post has helped to believe in what my heart is telling me a bit more.
that’s awful….i would think a counselor or psychiatrist would be able to help bring those back from your mental recesses, if you really wanted to get them. it’s obviously a coping mechanism your body has decided to employ and certainly isn’t a reflection of some sort of deficiency in you.
Hidden memories are a blessing and a curse. There are so many things that I know happened but can’t remember and a big part of me does not want to remember. From my mom to my step-father there’s a lot of blank pages.
But you are not a failure. You’ve protected yourself and your sanity in a way that has kept you. I hope that you find peace with or without owning those memories.
Stay strong!
Remember that you are brave and strong and loved.
My sister and I were both abused from I am thinking 5 until our teens she has no memories I have them all. I really could not tell you who got the better ?deal?
Hugs and kisses from another one.
I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a gap where you should have your memories, no matter how awful they are. *hugs*
I am so sorry… I am hoping and praying you will be able to fill in those missing memories and deal with them when the time comes. Until then, I hope you are able to surround yourself with people who truly love you. You are so strong.
Darling woman. Thank you so much for sharing. It’s powerful stuff. The body and brain are wonderful, wonderful organs. I didn’t eat for a month after my brother died, not one morsel. I didn’t lose a pound. I was in shock and my body protected me. Your brain has protected you. There are wonderful healers who can help you. If you would be willing to call hypnotherapists or energy healers (start at your holistic wellness centers) they can help you. I know about these things. I had a childhood trauma and I “lost” it in my body too. Peace be with you.
Wow, I can only imagine how terrifying it must be to have no memories of something so important. I hope that in the end, whether you do or don’t remember, it ends up being best for you. My prayers are with you.
Oh, my goodness. How awful to know it is true and not be able to remember. I hope some day you do remember.