Thursday, February 02, 2006

Social rejection is more frightening than the seemingly remote possiblity of death.

Long after the offenses are over & in the past, we who have been violated in childhood by sexual abuse carry with us an internal monologue that goes on discouraging us & tearing us down as we attempt to reconstruct & heal in our recovery.

He had made me on other occasions watch porno movies while sitting on his lap. He would come into my room at night naked shining flashlights in my eyes while I slept.
Searching my entire body up and down, pulling off my covers and smelling my breasts. Smelling my hair, touching my hands. This was not a fatherly kind of affection and even I knew that.

I’m attracted to reckless situations, entertained by violent fantasies, plagued by constant self doubt.

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