Here I sit with a chilly breeze coming through my window while I think of how happy I am that my mother has power back. It had been off since 2pm on Monday when Hurricane Sandy came running through. I was thinking while there was no power here that I am moved to tears by many books that I read. To the point of finding a piece of paper - any piece will do that I can write a passage on. To remember the feeling. To save a piece of me so that I can show the outside world my strength. Because to see me weak is something I learned at a young age..... 5 yrs old .....people will take advantage of.
Due to things that happened to me as a very young child I have a very hard time watching TV that features sexual abuse, fictional and non-fictional. Reading books about the same subject are just as hard for me. Though my mother never knew about the abuse and we did move away from the area shortly after I was scarred. I pick and choose carefully if I am to deal with books, TV or even discussions on the subject. Some it would seem would ask why?
The answer is simple, While I can openly talk about it - people in general are not comfortable with that conversation. Some get upset, some ask if it "really" happened. Others have even suggested it was a fantasy........ as if any 5 yr old would actually fantasize about such a thing. But then I have to remember they are dealing with a violation of their values and they are just dealing with it like me. I have had a longer time.
So when I make a decision to read something that I know is going to bring up sadness, anger and depression I make it after thinking over it carefully.
Reading "The Lovely Bones" was a hard - very hard decision to me but when on a pleasant journey to "Sals" (salvation army) I found the book and decided it was time to read it. The movie looked interesting but I could not imagine watching it. It would have to be the book first.
Imagine my surprise and delight that I found someone writing on this subject in a way that yes may me cry, feel deeply, but also allowed me to grieve for my lost innocence. There were many passages that I scribbled down and I am still finding them as I clean books and corners in my home. This one passage very eloquently summed up my feeling about my abuse.
"Once released from life, having lost it in such violence, I couldn't calculate my steps. I didn't have time for contemplation. In such violence, it is the getting away that you concentrate on. When you begin to go over the edge, life receding from you as a boat recedes inevitably from shore . You hold on to death tightly, like a rope that will transport you and you swing out on it, hoping only to land away from where you are."
"And as Flora twirled, other girls and women came through the field in all directions. Our heartache poured into one another like water from cup to cup. Each time I told my story, I lost a bit, the smallest drop of pain."
" At fourteen, my sister sailed away from me into a place I'd never been. In the walls of my sex there was horror and blood, in the walls of hers there were windows."
These passages and others in many books that I have read have helped me remember the joy of living, ease the burden of sadness and give me permission to grieve my losses. I wish that each of you receive this gift from your books.
From what books and passages are you moved?
