The Doormat

I don't remember when it began. I was quite young. But I do remember the night that I knew I was on my own, that no one would protect me. I think I was six.

What happens to a child when they know that a monster is after them and wants to harm them and no one will help them. They try to hide but cannot. So they hide inside themselves.

I don't know when I began to do this. But trying to hide the pain and keeping the secret were all consuming. I began to feel like keeping the family happy was my responsibility. My burden. The threats that I receiving from stepdad also helped burden me with unbearable responsibility. "If you tell, then mom will be mad at me" or "She'll divorce me and it will be your fault" and the motherlode "I'll kill myself and everyone will be unhappy and it will be your fault." Much, much more than I could bear. Than I should have been made to bear for I was only a child.

So, I learned my place in my family. I was the doormat, my feelings, my reality, my entire being not worthy of mention and certainly not worthy of the family's attention. Meant to be used, abused and forgotten. And so it was...

The Doormat

Treads come undone,
No repair is made.
Torn, tattered and ignored.
Cleaned up superficially,
So to be seen by the world.
Outside presentable.
Bring no attention or disgrace.
Foundation not lain.
Empty inside.
No strength to protect,
But always there to be used.
Value unknown.
Not cared for by most,
Ignored by the rest.
Walked on, used, abused and
Thrown away.

Step One

Why is that sometimes we don't do important things, things we feel an internal urge to do, until a hurtful or catastrophic event occurs? That's the way it is with me sometimes. I mean well, but get too busy with life, family, work...

This blog is to be about my journey through healing of sexual abuse. It is my way of standing up for myself, my inner child. It is my way of defending the defenseless. It is my way of reaching out to others in pain. In some small way I wish to help others heal, while I continue my own journey of healing.

As with any journey, the most difficult part is the first step. So here is my first step in blogging. Opening up my mouth to tell my story has never been easy. Like many others who have suffered through childhood abuse, threats were commonly used to maintain the silence and secrecy. It has taken a long time to be able to talk, though my abuser has long since been dead. Some habits are hard to change. Though I feel stronger each time I talk about the abuse I remain cautious about whom I talk with because others don't necessary understand. Friends and family alike fall into this category. We cannot be healed if we just believe that was in the past it's time to move on. We must open up and share. For me the sharing has occured little by little over time. Most recently, working with an excellent trained counselor has made all the difference. Opening up has helped me release so much pain that has been buried for so long. It has been the most freeing experience of my life. I would encourage everyone out there who has suffered some form of abuse, particularly those of you who have been sexually abused to find someone to talk to...a friend might be able to handle what you share, but I would recommend a trained counselor. No matter what you choose, just open up and begin to let the poison out so healing can begin. I believe God sent me to the right person and he will lead you too if you will just ask. God Bless.