Flashbacks

It was December and there I was sunk into my couch, comfy in sweatpants with my daughter’s head resting in my lap. I loved feeling the weight of her on me as I ran my fingers through her soft, stringy hair. As we warmed ourselves by the fireplace we watched the flames dance. It was dark and I was hoping my daughter would soon be lulled to sleep by some Christmas music we had playing. It was the quieter, gentler, deeper, Christmas music about Jesus and the precious day on which our savior was born.

My daughter kept her eyes closed longer each time she blinked. I was thankful for this, her feeling safe enough to rest so well. I found myself thinking about my recent  investigation, my shame and how I was going to begin the process of ridding myself of it. If peace were something that could be gift wrapped it would be the very thing I’d want to see beneath our tree Christmas morning. I looked at my daughter, she looked peaceful. I began thinking about life when I was her age. When I was her age…

I became wide eyed and while I stared directly into the wall before me I began having flashbacks to the time in my life when I was her age. I began to feel lost in memories, some were good but one was particularly unsettling. I became panicked and I had this sudden urge to move yet I couldn’t! I felt temporarily paralyzed, frozen, stuck, in what I’m sure was just minutes, though it felt like a lifetime. My face was warm from the fire but cool tears streaming down my face drew me back to the present. I noticed I had stopped running my fingers through my daughters hair and unbeknownst to her, many tears and fallen upon her head.

There in those minutes I experienced a flashback to a time when a guy thought it’d be fun to touch and feel my little girl body. From the outside looking in you wouldn’t be able to tell, but I felt the experience all over again in that flashback. The touch of my abuser, his weight on me, my scrawny arms across my chest resisting his closeness, feeling weak, feeling powerless. I could feel my voice shaking in nervousness and awkwardness as I tried to figure out how to articulate that this, that what he was doing was wrong. I could only muster up a word here and there at first but then I was upset enough to say “stop!” He did, and then that was that. 

After being drawn back to the present by those cool tears, I was pissed! (No I didn’t piss my pants, but I could have!) I mean I felt angry! As I went back to running my fingers through my daughters hair, I thought about how good it might feel to pull out my own. I felt sick, I felt dirty and I contemplated how much soap and scrubbing it would take to feel clean again. I began to quietly sob.

This was the first of many flashbacks that I’d endure over the next few months. This experience marked the onset of a very painful season in my life. These flashbacks were immediately followed by numerous nightmares and panic attacks. All of these symptoms were somewhat unpredictable and uncontrollable causing me great distress. I dislike unpredictable, i dislike uncontrollable. 

It became painful to live in my own body, I wanted out of it. I wanted it destroyed. I felt ashamed of my body. I felt hurt, my heart felt irregular in this season, it ached, and jumped, and sunk, and it stirred so much I often felt nauseous. My stomach hurt too. I began to process being victimized, and more than anything I wanted to go back in time and protect myself. I became angry about having been vulnerable. I didn't want to be a victim. 

Along with all this, I felt confused. I didn’t understand what was happening. I had always been aware of this event. I knew every detail, my memories had not changed and I had openly shared my past as very matter of fact, many times over. It was dumbfounding that here I was a couple decades later re-experiencing it differently. Why!?!? 

With the help of great doctors and therapists, I understand trauma better now, and I understand why my little girl mind wasn't able to process the event and I am coming to understand my current situation. Still, I'm with out steady, constant, peace. This process is so  not peaceful!

Just thinkin': I heard it once said that if we find ourselves disappointed, then we have misplaced our hope. I agree! I won’t be putting my hope in answers and reason. I've received a lot of both lately and neither have fully satisfied. So I’ll place my hope (every shard of it) where I know I should, in God!