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Illness after Child Abuse and Fear of Not Being Believed

Posted in Illness, tagged child abuse, illness after child abuse, sickness and child abuse on June 4, 2008| 8 Comments »

Woman holding bottle (c) Lynda Bernhardt One thing that triggers me about being sick is the fear of not being believed. Even though I am pushing forty years old, I feel like a little kid when I go in to see the doctor. I just know that he is going to accuse me of “faking” my illness and send me along my way. While the adult part of myself knows that this is not going to happen, there is still a wounded inner child part of myself that fears that I will not be believed.

This happened when I went to see the doctor about this sinus infection. I did not know what was wrong with me. I feared that it might be the flu or some sort of severe cold. I was sleeping 16+ hours a day, which is clearly not normal.

The doctor checked my throat first and said that must be the secondary symptom, which I heard as “I caught you faking your first symptom.” He then looked in my ear and saw fluid but no infection, which I heard as “You are overreacting to this, too.” Then, he looked in my nose and said, “Oh, yeah. You have a sinus infection. Let’s talk antibiotics.” Then, I knew that he believed me.

It doesn’t help that hub gets really stressed out whenever I get sick. Any time I tell him that I am getting sick, he says, “No, you’re not,” as if I cannot identify a cold in my own body. I know that is just about his own junk and has nothing to do with what is going on today with me, but it feeds my insecurities about not being believed. Until I start canceling commitments, hub does not even believe me when I say that I am sick.

I know that all of these issues are about me and not about hub. I am the one who still has all sorts of issues arising out of being under the weather. It never ceases to amaze me the degree to which child abuse permeates every area of your life.

Childhood Illnesses in Abusive Households

Posted in Illness, tagged child abuse, illness after child abuse, sickness after child abuse on June 2, 2008| 5 Comments »

Messy Bedroom

I am recovering from a sinus infection that has had me in bed for several days. Thank goodness I wrote ahead last week or all you would have seen after Wednesday on my blog was “I’m sick. Come back tomorrow.”

While my blog might have stayed in order, my house has not. I am getting a glimpse of what it must be like to live a fraternity house. I had to move my husband’s socks so I could sit down and write on the laptop. To get to the laptop, I had to step over a variety of toys and crayons that were spread willy nilly all over the carpet. What’s really sad is that I have been too sick to care until this morning.

I hate getting sick. While I suspect that getting sick is not on the top of most people’s priority list, it is a triggering event for me. Being sick hearkens me back to my childhood days when there was nobody to care for me. I can sum up my experiences with being sick as a child in one memory.

I was around nine years old and spending the weekend at my cousin’s house when I came down with an out-of-both-ends virus. I had never had one before, and I was so confused about which end to aim toward the toilet when fluids were coming out of me in all directions.

My aunt loaded me up in her car and took me home so I could be with my mother/abuser. When we arrived home, my aunt told my mother that I was very sick. My mother replied by saying, “No, she is not sick.” My aunt was flabbergasted and said that the evidence to the contrary was all over her car. My mother refused to acknowledge that I was sick and told me to go play in my room.

My mother had gotten involved in a bizarre church that did not believe in “speaking over” a person. My mother was “calling things that be not as though they were.” As long as she did not say that I was sick, then I would not be sick.

Meanwhile, I had to figure out a way to take care of myself. There was nobody to nurture me. I had to find a way to nurture myself.

Whenever I get sick today, I still feel that way. I have no expectation of anyone doing anything to nurture me. All I ask is that hub put his socks away and my son clean up his toys, but clearly even that is asking too much.

Photo credit: Faith Allen

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