*******trigger warning – sexual abuse*******
Anyone who follows my blog knows that I went through a very difficult time last Spring (of 2009). The reason for this was my struggle in recovering the memory of the first vaginal rape. Being vaginally raped was my deepest trauma and the truth I ran from the most. I thought recovering the memory was going to kill me. I got very sick for several weeks with bronchitis and the early stages of pneumonia.
Up until this point, all of my abuses took place outside of my body. I did not appreciate that I had an orifice that could be penetrated or that a grown man could insert a part of his body into mine so that I was harmed inside of myself. I was only 6 or 7 – I did not have the first idea about intercourse. I didn’t really appreciate what was being done to my sister when she was raped in my presence because I was not directly next to her, and it was dark other than the firelight.
Here is what I remember … Instead of stripping naked and going to my table, I was invited into the cabin with my sister. We were both wearing sheer nightgowns that anyone could see through. I felt uncomfortable because men were drinking alcohol and watching me. I had no idea what it meant. I believe that my virginity was auctioned off that night. I was paraded around in a sheer nightgown like a prize cow, and men bid on who got to “deflower” the little kid.
What I do remember is that I was brought to a room with a large bed on it. I was told to lie down in my nightgown on my back and wait. A man came in the room, and he raped me. I had no idea what was coming. I did not know that level of pain could happen in that part of your body. I did not understand the mixture of fluids – blood and semen – flowing between my legs after the rape. Nobody talked to me about what was going to happen or what it all meant.
I remember curling up in the bathtub, feeling so much pain and violation and wanting to die. I did not want to exist any longer. I believe this was the moment that I become a multiple with a diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder (DID). “Annie” (the name I have created to represent my child part) no longer wanted to exist, so she went to sleep inside of me.
On the heels of this event, I experienced a second betrayal that sealed the deal, and Annie was gone for decades, leaving the rest of my soul scrambling to figure out how to exist with no inner child.
Photo credit: Lynda Bernhardt
Blooming Lotus 
this makes me soooo angry…that this happened to you…that you were hurt like this. And I bet those bastards never got charged…not paid for their crime.
Hi, Sarah.
To my knowledge, none of them ever paid in this lifetime. I have no doubt that after this lifetime is a completely different story.
– Faith
I’m so sorry…..I know how difficult it is to recover that memory. Thank you for sharing, you give me courage to share my story with safe people. I have a deep rage inside of me that is struggling to get out….how have you dealt with the rage?
barbi
Hi, Barbi.
I deal with it a little at a time. Punching pillows was my first step. What works best for me is visualization. I will visualize the child me about to be hurt again, and then the adult me comes in and beats up the abuser(s) in a variety of sadistic ways. I have found a lot of relief processing my anger in this way.
– Faith
I am imagining myself knocking the crap out them myself! Good for you Faith.
It is no wonder why so many of us have trouble believing in God.
I am sorry for you loss and pain. I can hardly wrap my head around it all… I can’t even imagine how you’ve done it/do it.
I have to hang on to the idea that somehow, someway, there will be a balance of justice aimed at them for their viciousness (and all the others who abuse), or I will surely loose my mind.
Peace to you Faith,
mia
Faith,
thank you for sharing your story. I too was raped from the age of 5 – only it was my father. I too didn’t remember it for 20+ years, until I suddenly did – last year. I too wanted to die, and I am still processing it all – it happened for many years. I too started blogging – to write about it publicly, to hopefully help others.
Thank you,
Ksenia
[…] identity disorder (DID) happened because of two life events. I already blogged about the first one here. The second one involved my […]
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[…] the two events that caused my inner child, “Annie,” to go to sleep. You can read about them here and here. Both stories are very […]
Your story explain how to feel and explain what happened to someone like me..
I have to discover a lot.