Might have, could have, WAS Abuse

I sit here watching Scott Stapp’s, Committing Slow Suicide, wondering how I ended up the way I did.  If there is one thing, more than mom’s denial, which would make me doubt my childhood memories, I think the way I turned out would be it.

Upon visiting my therapist with whom I did the best with, she was amazed that I was not into drugs, alcohol, or prostitution/promiscuous relationships.  I was honest with her, telling her about my promiscuity in high school.  At the time of seeing her, I was still relatively young (early 20s), and my mom’s scaring words of my promiscuity in high school still stung my heart.  I hadn’t really gone to any bars, not even to play pool, at this age.  I didn’t know anyone who did drugs, and was never around people who did them, that I know of.  I also was always in charge of my sister’s care, so the opportunity to run away was non-existent.  From what I have learned thus far, most young women who are in prostitution were runaways.  Since I took my responsibility of caring for my sister so damn serious, I never bolted.  I seriously don’t think it has anything to do with fear of the ‘big outdoors’, as I really don’t remember having too much fear of anything by the time I hit high school.  So, for whatever reason or reasons, I never did the things other abused persons did.  I seriously don’t think the fact that I never did any of these coping behaviors makes me any better, or stronger, than any other person who has been abused, or of that matter, any body else period.  It is just with the statistics which all scientists have to deal with, I don’t fit in.  At the time of my therapy, this was odd, not so much now; I don’t fit into a lot of statistics.

Among more than 1,400 adult females, childhood...
Among more than 1,400 adult females, childhood sexual abuse was associated with increased likelihood of drug dependence, alcohol dependence, and psychiatric disorders. The associations are expressed as odds ratios: for example, women who experienced nongenital sexual abuse in childhood were 2.93 times more likely to suffer drug dependence as adults than were women who were not abused. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Back to the video’s meaning to me.  The beginning of the video shows a boy who is getting beat for not brushing his teeth in the strict amount of time given, and quite possibly for other things as well.  As a man he indulges into alcohol and drugs, and he is shown in the emergency room, dying.  In another part of the video, it is graphic as to his dependence and need for drugs.  To me, it is rather scary watching this man crawl across a littered floor, stuffing pills in his mouth.  In one video it is evident, at least in my interpretation, from where this man came from, the challenges and pain he has had as a man, then the down right bottom of scrounging pills off the floor.  In fact, for me, this video is one of the hardest videos I have ever seen to watch, and I am of the MTV dawn.

English: Drug overdose
English: Drug overdose (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As my own adult, I still don’t have the desires of drugs, alcohol, and sex (well, a little bit of sex, who am I kidding?).  The point I think I am seeing here is that somehow I managed to take some side road around all these coping behaviors that many others didn’t see or didn’t take.  I still have some of the coping behaviors I had when the abuse actually occurred; I struggle with those all the time, or simply say ‘fuck it’ and close the door.  I zone out really good in sex.  I blow off relationships real well.  There are big issues of safety, hyperawareness, and preparing for the worst all the time.  In these I have the knowledge that all the abuse was real, not imagined as mom would have me believe.  This is also where my therapist would work from, instead of finding ways it didn’t happen.

I ask, now that I have seen, as well as one can, the life of another who has been abused: why do I not fit into the statistics? What makes me so damn special?  If drugs and/or alcohol were made more available to me while growing up, would I have indulged?  Oh so many fucking questions!  Who the hell is going to answer them anyway?  Please don’t even tell me God, Jesus, angels, Buddha, or any thing of the like.  They haven’t talked to me all these fucking years, AND I HAVE BEEN LISTENING AND ASKING, don’t bother me now.

I just see people like Scott Stapp being able to reach so many people who can really benefit from what he has learned.  His words can fall on so many ears, which may at the time, be closed.  His music can reach into their hearts, letting in a little light. In short, people who have come out the other end of all the shit of an abusive childhood and developed a means of sharing their life, are very special people.  I have no doubt somewhere along the line I have told a person or written something which has helped one or two people.  I have never, nor will I ever, reach the amount of people someone like Scott Stapp can reach.  Thus the question of most importance to me, which is the question which shall never be answered in this lifetime: Why the hell did I not suffer these same, if not more, behaviors?  Why did I take the side road?  Did no one else see the sign?  Seriously!

Perhaps, now that I have thrashed all that out, I may see a reason to this entire mind numbing diatribe.  The people who go through so much as a result of their abusive childhoods may simply be stronger than me.  If I would have been faced with drugs, alcohol, sex, whatever, would I have come out and be able to even help one person?  Probably not: I am just not made out of the same strong stuff.

I applaud all those who have come out of life’s shit standing up.  Even more impressive and awe inspiring though, is those who are turning all their pain and life challenges into a message for those in need, now or in the future.  I am sure these great people who have suffered so, once, twice, and probably many more times in life, will be helping people heal, love, and live way after they are gone.  I guess it is the forging of steel from where their strength pours.

The Great Divide (Scott Stapp album)
The Great Divide (Scott Stapp album) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

25 thoughts on “Might have, could have, WAS Abuse

  1. Thank you for your kind words. I have washed my hands of their issues, I have far too many of my own. If I am to try to help anyone other than myself heal, it will be people who want to, youth who need to understand their feelings and pain, and other innocents who suffer. I cannot waste what little energy I have on people who want to only fight, deny, and keep falling in the same hole. I am a survivor, whether through crimes against my childhood, or in dealing with my current illnesses, I can only do so much.

    Peace & Love

  2. I am sorry they withhold validation from you, but you are right to look only to yourself for it, if they will not give it. Their healing is delayed by not dealing with it. They will always be trying to deny the elephant in the room, which is not a good stance to take. I am sad for your fibro and lupus. That’s a lot to handle. Hugs, Brenda

  3. Very right.
    I tried to talk about with my mum at first. She was right on board with me, and even added anecdotal information I had not known due to my age. When I discussed it with her later, she denied it all, even the additional conversations we had about it. After that, never broached the subject with. I asked my sister about once, she told me in no uncertain terms: it never happened to me or her. Damn! That was it.
    In discussing this with my therapist many eons ago, she told me it wasn’t important if they back me up or not. She told me not to go make a forced issue out of it, as that helps no one, and only causes more stress and burns bridges. I was advised to just work on my stuff, and let the other’s fall will they will. Mom and sister have tons to work on, but they are not my problem and they are adults. I do what is best for me, and in that is keeping down my stress levels. I am not going to make myself sicker with my Lupus or fibro by getting worked up if they believe me or not. I know it happened and I am way past caring whether they believe me or not. It just makes dealing with mum on a daily basis hard. She doesn’t see things the same and there are things I simply cannot tell her since she would wonder where I was coming from. I am doing fine, but periodically, there is something that triggers. This is a great medium for sharing those trigger times, without costing a ton at a therapist, or getting confrontational with another.

    Peace & Love

  4. One of the hardest issues is the pressure to not talk about it. Don’t embarrass the family. It’s in the past, move on. It’s over now. Don’t tell anyone. Then you become part of a conspiracy not to tell anyone. Otherwise, you, the victim, become the bad guy for telling people and seeking help. You’re “good” for not telling. It’s deeply wrong. You should be encouraged to talk, to get help processing. The secrecy just makes you carry around this burden. I’m glad people can talk about it. And everyone responds differently to abuse. It’s like the weather — too many factors go into it so you can’t predict single person’s outcome. I’ve also been asked: “how did you manage?” You just do. One day at a time. Right?

  5. I feel I’ve gotten to know you even more, Rene. Just like sitting at the kitchen table. Back door open, nice wee breeze going, pot of tea on the go and a good chat. No thanks required.x

    I’m a dog girl. ;)x

  6. I want to thank you for doing all the reading and watching the vid. I appreciate this a great deal. It has been like have a cup of tea with you, sans the tissue, and working this over your kitchen table. We can sit at your table right? No food left on it? No papers from school all over it? How about the cat? Ok, like sitting at your table drinking tea. Thanks.

  7. Oh, no! I meant a whole new and improved Sleepy Hollow. I am not the Johnny baberster (?). This one is on Fox Broadcasting here. I will get the guy’s name, but when I looked him up, he was much cuter as the Icabod dude rather than real life. They have him in a period style long hair wig-thingy, and he looks taller. In real life, I think he is a British actor, and he has short hair, and well…looks shorter. I’ll see what I can do as far as pics, but it is to watch him and his little nuances that is fun.

  8. I went looking for a ‘certain’ poem, but didn’t see anything which specifically related. Let me know when it is published. Watching Sleepy Hollow, fine looking Icabod!

  9. What a life. No wonder so many suffer. One day the perpetrators will be accountable. To someone. Even themselves. I could cry at children suffering in this way. It makes me so sad. And so angry. No one has the right to act in that way. How dare they? To children! I must read his story too. Although I find those things really distressing. Especially if I feel there’s nothing to be done to help. As you said, he can reach so many. But then we all can in our ways. It colours who we are and forms our characters. Pity it’s ever necessary. Think I’ll have to publish that poem now. Though I might get you to give it the once over.x

  10. As far as I know now, it is very real. I think he has been through two rehabs, he almost lost his wife I think once, probably more, and he almost lost Creed, the band, a couple of times as well. I need to read his book, Sinner’s creed, but I don’t have the money to get it on kindle yet. That would tell me all I want to know. I don’t want to read all the trash papers, only what is official from his mouth. Oh, and his father’s behavior was very much like that.

  11. Yeah, I am going to have to take this vid out of my playlist and just leave up the lyric one. This one triggers too many memories and anger issues for me. I get what he had to go through, where he has been as well as I can from here, but I don’t feel the need for the graphic nature of the vid. I am sure there are many it will reach though, that need that level a graphic content, and I am glad he is strong enough with his own issues to do it.

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