People Tell Their Stories:
Abuse and Violence

 

Survivor: A Story of Healing Childhood Sexual Abuse  Kelly Denise Baker

 

I grew up not quite understanding certain aspects of my life . . . and why they were even there.

 

As far back as I can recall, I've suffered from nightmares. By the age of eleven I began having repetitive nightmares about being raped. I didn't even know what sexual intercourse was at that age, yet I was dreaming about it.

 

By the age of fourteen I had developed anorexia. I was unable to handle any talk of the female anatomy. This went so far as to me passing out if anything unpleasant was mentioned or insinuated. For example, my doctor pulled out a spectrum from the drawer to show me what it looked like—basically, to set my mind at ease in hopes I could co-operate with a pap smear. As soon as I saw it (which was about five feet away from me), I fainted.

 

I also had severe trust issues, generally involving men. I was always very suspicious of people’s intentions towards me and very alert at all times. I felt that under no circumstances could I let my guard down, for anyone.

 

By the time I turned twenty-one, the nightmares began to really surface. I took a course in adult psychology, which assisted me with dream analogy. Once interpreted, the dreams seemed to point to the possibility that I was sexually abused around the age of four, by a man with dark brown hair and crystal blue eyes.

 

I began to research anorexia and discovered that it's estimated that 90% of people, who suffer from anorexia, were sexually abused as children. I also was experiencing trouble with sexual intercourse. I would tense up.

 

I began seeing a psychiatrist for these issues. He informed me that the problem with sexual intercourse seemed as though I was having physical memories, yet not conscious. I was becoming very frustrated with the half-truths my mind was allowing me to have. I was so angry with myself that I wanted information that only I seemed to be able to give, yet my sub-conscience wouldn't allow it! I was so tired of the unexplained anxiety attacks. I wanted answers. I needed answers.

 

The man I was dreaming about seemed to re-appear in every dream. The nightmares were singling out one man, but I didn't recognize him. By this time, I was twenty-two years old. My parents had been separated for nine years. I phoned each of them separately and described the man to every exact detail and asked if there was a man around me when I was around the age of four who looked like that. They both named the same man. He happened to be a friend of my father’s. He had two sons; his oldest boy was just a few years younger than me. My parents gave him my hand-me-downs. Hauntingly enough, this man’s son drowned on my twenty-first birthday. I still wasn't certain, since I myself hadn't had a memory that was sufficient enough for me. I now knew that there were four people in this world who may have known what happened or could offer some insight—my father, mother, the man who assaulted me and myself.

 

A few months later, my mother was in a serious car crash and didn't survive. At this point, I really didn't care about the sexual abuse anymore. I didn't care about anything. I just wanted my mother back. I had an extremely difficult time dealing with this loss. Everything else, no matter how crucial it was, seemed trivial to me.

 

It has just been recently that I have chosen to rehash the past. I have received clearer memories, however, not from A to B. This has been somewhat discouraging.

Another discouraging aspect of this is that my mother now can't give me any answers. My father isn't the type of man who is willing to talk about anything of substance—at least, what I believe to be of substance. He's a very secretive man. The man who assaulted me is unlikely to speak. Therefore, I must rely on myself, which I have now come to believe isn't all that bad.

 

I am making progress with the memories. I have had a good handle on the eating disorder for about three years now. The nightmares aren't as severe or as often. I'm dealing with talk of the female anatomy partially better. I am making progress, and I find this uplifting and encouraging. Although I have not yet my final goal, which is to remember the entire experience, I am well on the journey to recovering these memories in full completion.

 

From the pieces of the puzzle I have put together, I have determined the worst case scenario for what the full memories may be, and I have won half the battle in surviving sexual abuse—I have accepted it! I have also accepted the fact that what happened when I was four years old doesn't reflect on me or who I am. I didn't do anything wrong. It's a sickness that lingers in the perpetrator. I take pride in now knowing that I am not a victim of childhood sexual abuse. I am a survivor!

Kelly Denise Baker is 28 years old and resides in Toronto. She works as a columnist/freelance writer and is currently ghostwriting a book. Contact her at: kelly_d_baker@yahoo.ca