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I've just had one of the harder, maybe the hardest, conversation of my life. I'm blogging about it as a gesture of defiance, it's a "Fuck You! I'm still standing", to someone long dead and buried.
Today I didn't just out myself to my mother about BDSM, I had a darker secret to tell.
About 20 years ago a memory started showing up, it seemed odd, because unlike other memories that surface in that way, it didn't seemed to be tied to any time or place. It's been coming since then, as and when it felt like it, with nothing to tie it to, until the end of last year.
When the depression started to take a hold of me the memory started to gain some significance. It gained more significance as I reached the depths of things in January and I started to get a feeling for what it was about.
After I started on the anti-depressants the feelings increased, I explored them with my doctor and she was absolutely convinced that the false memory was acting as a defence mechanism to hide something from my own consciousness.
Over the last five months I've been exploring this with both my doctor and counsellor, the debate has recently centred on disclosure, do I tell people, is it going to help me, and how do you tell people. Yesterday I decided that I wanted to be open about it and I said it out loud for the first time to someone else, my counsellor.
Today I said it out loud to my mother and teach_me. I've now said it four times out loud, and I'm going to keep on saying it because it makes me feel better.
I was sexually abused by my grandfather.
The memory I have covers a sexual act in way that made it possible to deal with, there were no leading questions to point me to realising what happened and in my subconcious I know it, amongst other things happened.
While this blog is a fuck you to him and what he did to me, I still know that he was at the mercy of deteriorating brain function and wasn't compos mentis most of the time. It probably isn't fair that it happened to me, but it did and I can't change that. What I can do is acknowledge the calm and collected way that both my mother, and teach_me, took it.
There are lots of other issues that are now coming to light that I have to deal with in connection to this and the way it has affected me, some of which I didn't understand until the first time I said it out loud.
The odd thing is that it was harder to talk about the BDSM than the abuse, I'm still trying to work out what that says about our society.
Edited Thu 12 Jul 07, 2:19 PM by Der_Morgenstern
