I’ve been on this journey of trying to heal myself from prolonged sexual, medical, and mental abuse and torture for about 16 years. 16 years ago, I had not remembered what happened to me at all, and I went up to Michigan because I knew something was brewing in my mind, but could not remember what. While I was there , I talked with a woman and explained that something was wrong with me but I just did not know what… I just was so fucked up and depressed. She was a survivor of abuse and told me when she looked at me and listened to me, she felt that I had been abused, too. I started to explore and learned she was right.
I went through about 15 years of pure hell trying to heal… many years of wanting to die, trying to die, wondering why the fuck I did not die, etc. For 3 of those years I was non-functional – could not leave the house, was scared of the phone, afraid my abuser was sending people after me – even though he was dead – really fucked up shit.
Now it’s been 16 years. On a whim, I went up to Michigan and walked along the shore of Lake Huron again… just needed to. And, the weirdest thing happened: I saw myself (in my mind) walking along the shore as I had 16 years ago. I walked up to myself and saw the innocence, the blindness, the little “girl” (actually a young woman) who had no clue what was getting ready to happen to her… that everything she knew would be turned upside down and she’d be a freak. I tried to talk to her, to tell her that although I would not say I am “over” my abuse, I am on the other side of the mountain. I never will be “over it”. It will always be a part of me, like being paralyzed or being blind or having a limp. It is a part of who I am now – it has defined me, shaped me, molded me, and I will never know who I would have been had I not been abused… all I know is I would be so much different and not afraid. But, I am on the other side of the mountain and I wanted her to know that… not to give up… not to feel like a freak, like dogshit, worthless, ugly, stupid, a ****… all of those things I learned about myself.
Naturally, we can’t change the past, so that part of me didn’t hear a damn thing I said.
But then there was another woman… an old woman next to me. I looked at her and saw myself 16 years from now. She was frail, a bit bent over, was not walking too well, but wasn’t as fat as I’d expected and still had some decently long hair. In my mind, she spoke to me and told me not to wish my life away – to value every day – to value my mobility – and above all, live my life my fucking way (that’s a quote) and never let anyone tell me what to think, how to feel, how to act, or who to be. Just be me and do what I feel is right. Then she was gone.
This was the most intense vision I’ve ever had. I wasn’t on drugs, really wasn’t looking for anything like that, but it was so intensely real. It really felt like I’d met myself. It was the day before the autumnal equinox and I’d been meditating on being at a crossroads, so maybe that brought it up. I don’t know. All I know is it gave me a little hope for the future.
Anyone else have something like this happen?
Thanks for listening.
13 comments
Nothing to much comparable to your story, but once I had a dream of someone (Jayda, if you read my other post) who helped me with depression and then like, 5 months later I meant her in real life. Weird.
It’s a long story, and I typed to much today to explain the dream, though I thought the dream was real for about 15 minutes in real life, haha, but in the dream I died and went to heaven/hell (or whatever, you get the point) but when I died, I meant Jayda for the first time. It was awesome, but when I woke up I wanted to die so much, and now I still want to die way more than when I used to because I believe if I die I will see Jayda in hell, I know her in real life, but I have troubles believing she is real.
But you know, we all burn brightly in hell…
Nice. Really nice. It sounds like a true healing.
whats important is that you realize your life has just as much value as those who werent abused.
You didnt ask for it, it is part of your history, but it doesnt have to define who you are.
I wish you healing, peace, and a long life with enjoyment. 🙂
@G. W. – it was, thank you. It’s like the circle finally closed.
@ Wifeisgone – thank you. 🙂 🙂
@YOUWILLNEVERKNOWME – I was able to find and read a little about what you’ve said about Jayda. And since I don’t know the whole story, please forgive me if I’m going the wrong direction here.
For a long time, I had a very close friend named Ron. I had a closer relationship with him than I did anyone else, in fact, to this day I’ve never had a close relationship with anyone like I do him. I, too, had trouble believing he was real because he actually cared about me, and I could not believe anyone did. I mean, who would love me? He was there when I was having drug problems, when I was suicidal, when my memories of my abuse were at their worst, and even to hang out and have pizza with on Friday night. He’d sit with me when I was driving to work and crying the whole way there and back. He was there when I was curled up in a ball screaming on the floor because I was in so much emotional pain. If anyone asked me about him, I could describe him to a T and was almost more aware of his personality than my own. I doubted his existence, though.
As I began to truly heal, I came to understand Ron was a part of me. I had more than one personality, commonly know as DID (dissociative identity disorder).
Before I go further, please understand that I am not suggesting at all (nor do I believe) that Jayda is not real. You’d mentioned you had a hard time knowing if she was, that’s what brought this up.
Anyhow, at first I was mad about the DID, then I realized that Ron was how I survived my abuse, how I survived my torture, and how I lived in a world where no one loved me. To this day, I have chosen to keep him around because despite what anyone else may think, he’s a part of me. Some may think my living in a fantasy is bad, but I don’t care: I’m at peace with who I am. I know who I am, I know who Ron is, and I choose to be me.
I hope whoever Jayda is that she is a healing and good friend/girlfriend to you. I think you deserve good people in your life.
Thank you for sharing that. It gave me a moment of clarity in the chaos I call my mind. You’ve given me inspiration. I can’t thank you enough.
Oh, and if you ever feel like typing, I would really love to hear more about your dream.
@elliecats – Sometime I will make a post about the dream, or maybe I will just email you. But one question. How did it exactly feel knowing Ron wasnt real?
elliecats, that was beautifully inspiring. You have a mastery of words and a vivid mind. It seems like you’ve gone through much in life, but have taken hope and positive attitudes from the worst to make something incredible. Thank you for your sharing.
@YOUWILLNEVERKNOWME – I read your response before work and did not have time to respond,which is good, because I’ve had all day to think about it.
I think a part of me always knew he was not physically real, but I chose not to know what I knew. I ignored the fact that I knew he was not physical because I needed him so incredibly badly in order to make it day to day. So, I was in serious denial.
When I started to heal and discovered he was a part of me, there were many emotions – sometimes all at once, sometimes they came and went: I was depressed because his not being real meant no one loved me, that I truly did not have a single good friend, and that I really was alone. I was also furious at myself for being “stupid”, “crazy”, a “freak”, and for having to live in a fantasy to survive. I wished with everything I had that he WAS real so that I would not be any of those things, nor would I be alone. Mostly, when I figured out I’d been communicating with myself all those years, I felt like I was insane. Truly insane, with no hope at all for any other future than the nut hut.
As healing went on, my attitudes changed. I realized that had I not split into more than one personality, I likely WOULD have gone insane with the molestation and torture. He prevented that. I came to value him highly and still do. Then, I was not angry at myself any more for being a DID – I was damn lucky. I’d have rather made it through that in more than one piece (figuratively speaking) than spending my life in an asylum doped up and drooling. I feel my ability to split saved me from that. Also, I came to understand that I was hardly insane, but had lived through insane things. And maybe I was alone with no good friends and no one to love me, but fuck it, I had my cats, home, and I was OK with being alone.
Now, it’s funny… I don’t “need” Ron any more. I used to have many shrinks who thought I should “integrate” Ron, which is a fancy way of saying not have more than one personality any more. But, I disagreed then and I disagree now. I may not need him any more like I did, but I sure as hell want to keep him just the way he is. My mind worked hard to invent him and he worked hard to save me. I feel like by making him go away, I would be dishonoring and disrespecting myself and the journey I’ve taken. And, he is not harming me or anyone else by being here. I’m happy (with that, at least) and I think that’s all that really matters.
@jj and The Distress,
Thank you very much for your kind words and thank you for listening. It means a lot.
Well, I hope we can talk again.
If you meant me, I hope so!!
And if you meant Jayda, I also hope so!!