Has it really been this long? I always thought that drawing and painting were my greatest escape, but it seems that the dreams I looked for were hidden in different areas. My writing has always been fun but my blocks maybe came from the fact that i never really wrote what i felt in my heart.
The fact that i wanted to keep my world pretty when it just was not.
My world has been beautiful and cruel. My hope has wavered, but stayed with me. Now its time, maybe that i allow myself to express the darkest secrets so i can finally feel a sense of peace.
Truly and Honestly.
At first I didn’t know that there were things i was supposed to question or look for. It seems like the idea of standing up, defending, and questioning those “above” you were all new to me. I always just followed what I was told was acceptable or not. Its my family’s and my fault, for allowing my mind to become submissive and for me not realizing what was going on.
Child or not, when do you become aware that people are different? When you suddenly become different? When the thoughts and voices in your head are wrong and who you have become is not right?
I am not naive. I am not Innocent. I see the aberrations that a human soul can create, and the hope it sustains.
I am a heart that has felt rips of pain
I am a heart that has felt the healing of tears
Confession 1
The first time I ever saw a penis was when i was waking up from the strangest sensation that someone was hovering over me. My eyes gently opened but my head quickly went blank.
In front of me was a penis being flashed in my face. I could see the wrinkly and thick fingers grasped around it, swinging it around like a toy. I look up to see my Uncle Tito, (”Tio Tito”) laughing like it was a big joke. He just stood there as he made eye contact and continued to chuckle. Continued to smile as I watched in frozen fear as he adjusted himself quickly to get it back behind his zipper. He fixed his pants and walked away with a satisfied laugh back to the living room. I never understood what had happened but I remember the shock, fear and confusion. My little mind had no idea what to do and I had no idea what was wrong. Why did it feel like something really awful just happened, yet I didn’t even know what that was.
I didn’t begin to go over all the sexual abuse until i was in high school, 11th grade, when I also began therapy. I started to realize that my behavior in the past didn’t match up to my classmates. I was never as cheerful and my humor was skewed. It seemed like academics, friends, and being social was the first priority. I never resonated with that. I knew that sex and pleasure existed and for me, that was a priority. However it was a dark, dirty secret and all my feelings were dirty as well. I hated myself for how I felt. I never understood why I thought the way I did and why my body seemed to react to images or sounds of sex so strongly.
I didn’t remember this incident until a few years into therapy after high school, and once i recalled that being sexually molested or exposed started at the age of 5, it was honestly as if a veil had been removed from my eyes.
All the self loathing, all the self infliction of pain, all my strange sexual desires. I no longer felt like I was a freak of nature. I no longer felt that something was wrong with ME and all the strange feelings didn’t magically appear. I had been terrified for years that myself as an individual was just sick and I would have to live with my atrocious thoughts forever. I was terrified that my mind was broken and eventually when people find out how twisted it was, I would be thrown into a loony bin. It had been a fear that lived with the moment my uncle decided to walk into the room. Remembering what happened though allowed me to realize that all my hurt had a root and It was my first real understanding of what had happened and to who I was. A better understanding.
Since I was exposed to feelings and concepts that I didn’t understand at such a young age, my idea of what a healthy relationship between a man and a woman should be like was ruined. What is appropriate and what is not, and it was such a mind fuck to realize that what i was feeling isn’t WRONG. This is how I have had to adapt to losing an innocence we all wish we could protect.
This is the first but unfortunately not the last.
This was the beginning of a long psychological battle, a long broken road, and a harder path to rediscovering what its like to be human.
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