Witless Relocation Program, A Blog

The other day a woman left a comment on my blog post about how she had written a post about her childhood and the abuses she suffered on her blog.  I immediately headed over to her blog and we have exchanged a few emails.

 I am amazed at how similar we are in terms of how we have dealt with the abuse.  I thought I was the only one who didn't talk, who didn't cry, who was happy all the time.  Actually, I never thought that, I didn't think anything because I didn't know I was coping, I just was. While I have not gotten into the specific of my abuse, she goes into graphic detail about what happened to her and she is asking for support.  I think she is so very, very brave. Except for my husband I have never talked about my childhood.  I have shared a little with friends here and there, but nothing much beyond it was abusive.  Maybe an alcoholic joke here or there. You all know how long it took me to tell you the whole story about that day in March.  Through her and others,  I am learning that I am not so unique.  That children who are severely abused hide things about emotions and feelings.  They get good at putting on a happy face and stuffing the pain so deep it can't be felt.  That is probably why I was able to hide the truth about my attack for so long.  If E hadn't decided at dinner to tell the whole story I might still be living that lie(The lie of the attack not my childhood.  My childhood does not haunt me).  Thank God I am not.  Thank God I saw her face and the pain and said, nope, no more, it's time to face what happened and deal.  It may have seemed like a long painful process, but it hasn't been that long.  There is healing in sharing and in support.

Her story is not an easy one to read.  Much like Garand Girl, her story is a hard pill to swallow, but I ask that you go anyway and that you offer her support and compassion.