Feeling So Alone

When I think of all the people that I know, those that I count as close friends, I don't think that any of them has gone through being molested at a very young age like I have. I feel so alone.

The past couple of days have been so intense. I'm feeling overwhelmed by my past, I feel like there's so much more underneath the surface that I need to get out.

I almost feel panicked about it. I don't like the feeling of wanting to run away and hide. I felt this way my whole life up until about age 25 when I was diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder. I don't feel that anxiety defines me, I just feel that the label defines how I feel sometimes, and how my body responds.

OK, let me rewind a bit. I have realized with the anxiety attack I had a couple of weeks ago that felt like a heart attack, when growing up I didn't have anxiety attacks, I had panic attacks. Anytime I faced a situation that scared me or whatever, I would have a panic attack: racing heart, sweating palms, desire to run away, spinning mind, physical illness, sometimes culminating in throwing up.

That IS what I'm feeling right now. Going through all of these old feelings, emotions, memories, hurts, are getting to me. I want to escape them. I don't know how to deal with them. I feel very anxious to the point of panic.

When I experienced the anxiety attack, I had just been through a very emotionally charged situation, but had calmed down and was starting to deal with what was going on. The feeling of my heart exploding took me by such surprise that I literally thought I was having a heart attack. I knew it wasn't a panic attack, because I had lived through almost a quarter century of those; this was different.

I don't know what to do next.

I need to talk to somebody. I had a counselor, but now my insurance requires a deductible to be paid in order to see anyone--and there's no way I can afford it, it's more than my utilities. I have been looking online for support groups and what have you, but I don't want to get into that cycle of people relating their stories and me getting even more depressed. So, I figured I'd at least write and get some of it out.

One of the things that's bothering me is two exercises that I went through last night. One of them is to mentally visualize things and then alter them. I have THE hardest time imagining things in my head. I have some sort of block that prevents me from getting a mental image of things. I can hear stuff just fine, I can recreate entire songs in my mind with all the instrumental parts and voices, but I can hardly get a simple picture to form in my mind.

Maybe this is normal, but it's really frustrating me. I enjoy the visual, I love rich and deep colors, enjoy the beauty, intricacy or simplicity of things. Why can't I do that in my mind's eye?

The weird thing is that some things from my past I can get a vivid snapshot of. I can 'see' them, but the weird thing is I can't do it in my mind, with my eyes closed. It's almost like I am projecting it out into space with my eyes open, watching it, rather describing it, but not seeing it.

You know, maybe I'm just overreacting here. But it just seems so odd to me, it frustrates me that I can't get pictures to be in my head where I want them to be. I guess that explains why I have such a hard time coming up with things that are original, but given other things can rework them into something else, I don't know?

Anyway, the other exercise was regressing to childhood situations.

Oh wait, this was really weird. When I was trying to do the visual thing I started thinking about the church I grew up in and how one of the Sunday school rooms looked. In my head I started singing some of the songs that we did during Jr. Church when I was about 10.

All the sudden, I got the mental picture of what happened to me when I was about 3, in front of the church. I tried to remember what happened beyond the image that has always stuck with me. I remembered some of the scene, but I can't remember what led up to it, and I can't remember what happened after. I'm still at the point I am thinking about it with a complete lack of emotion, just as scenes in a movie or something.

After I got that mental image, I tried to remember what happened to me at our family campsite with the teenagers. I can only remember a tiny bit of it, and mainly all I can remember is staring out the window and seeing our camper next door, with a couple of snips of the teens. What on earth did they do to me, or make me do to them? I have no idea.

I wonder if hypnosis would help? I wonder if I could even afford it?

You know what really is bothering me is the idea that there are people in this world who know what happened to me, but yet I have no idea. It makes me angry. I can't believe that they did these things to me, robbed me of my innocence, and that I'm still dealing with things after 30-some odd years.

I want to get past all this.

I'm tired of trying to keep this all pushed down. I'm tired of being embarrassed by it all. I'm tired of having holes in my life. I'm tired of feeling like I have no control. I'm tired of having the past affect my future.

I seriously want to escape right now. I think that's a good sign. I think that I'm getting close to breaking through this. The part of me that's tried to protect me from anything bad is trying to protect me again.

I feel so, well, pissed. I'm not sure that's right, maybe more sad than pissed, but yeah maybe. No, I think more like broken and weak. I feel like everybody else is stronger than I am, able to deal with crap like this, and I can't. Like anybody else on the planet would have already dealt with it and moved on. Like I'm making a bigger deal out of it than I should be.

Well, I've been going through cycles of that thinking in my head and I'm trying to just shut them down and ignore them, because if that would even be true, that I am weaker than anyone else or anything, well, it really doesn't matter does it? Is there anything I can do about it? All I can really do is try to fix what's broken inside me, not worry about anybody else, and then the rest will fall into place.

So, where does that leave me then?

I think I'm on the right track indeed. I think I have a lot of work still ahead of me, but I'm close. I think I need to find help somehow, somewhere. I know I'm blessed and that my childhood could have been so much worse. I can't change the past, I can only change the future. I think I need to cry.

Thanks for listening.

Be blessed!

- Jan

My Separate Selves

Well, I had an interesting session with my counselor today.

I can't exactly remember how it came about. We were talking about setting boundaries with people (something I've not been so good at, i.e.: Marie), and so she suggested role-playing that I was having a discussion with someone about re-evaluating our relationship. Just talking about it made me really anxious and nervous. I couldn't even formulate thoughts as the fear overtook me; I wanted to escape even talking about doing it. I know one of my coping mechanisms has been avoidance--I really want to stop doing that so that I can deal with things straight on instead of hoping they go away or hoping they take care of themselves. (So, does that mean I want to avoid avoidance...? He he he.)

So anyway, she asked me to describe the fear 'person' that I have, young, old, "How does 'she' look?" I imagine the fear aspect of my self as rather like a teenager. She's afraid she can't do anything, afraid to try things because she might fail, might be ridiculed, afraid if she doesn't try things she will be left behind. I know this fear comes from being judged by my dad. It has become so paralyzing to me! Every day I go through the agonizing throes of being afraid.

My fear is not really only in one area, but in every area, and not all the time, just at different times. I am afraid of what others think, I'm afraid of failure, of making the wrong choices, I'm afraid that if I act or think a certain way my friends or family will leave me--I never admitted that one before. I'm afraid people will leave me because I'm not what they want. Hmm. Have to ruminate about that one for later.

I'm tired of being afraid.

I'm tired of the paralysis of fear.

I'm tired of the immobility of fear.

I'm tired of beating myself up over being afraid.

I'm tired of feeling so isolated by fear.

My counselor has said before that due to all of my abuse as a child, I have a 'little girl' inside of me that never got the chance to grow up in a healthy environment, and as a result she rears her head when she feels like she's not being or not going to be taken care of: my Child Self. I've imagined that, and felt like that is valid. I didn't feel safe or loved and as a result didn't get what I needed. So, in essence, this Child Self is seeking protection and validation. And I, as my nurturing Adult Self, can take care of those needs.

I can see this. When I think about it, sometimes how I act or feel, I can see that my actions are indeed childish. I hate it, truly I do. I feel like such an idiot. I'm acting like a little kid, how pathetic is that? I'm trying to be more cognizant of my feelings so that I can recognize when my old Child Self needs some help feeling at ease. It's really weird to think about it like that. I guess it is what it is, and I will overcome it, it just takes time.

So, besides my Child Self, now I have a Teen Self--which actually is a lot like my Child Self. Basically, my Teen Self is afraid. She's afraid of failing, of not being lovable, not being good enough, messing things up beyond recognition for myself or others, afraid of expressing something to someone that is unacceptable--that they will then leave me because I am then unacceptable. (There seems to be a theme of being afraid of everybody leaving me; again I will have to come back to that sometime.) The Child and Teen are a lot alike--it all comes down to fear, and seems to be tied to being left behind. Maybe they're really the same girl.

I know I will overcome this fear thing. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!

So, if I talk about my Adult Self, who is she? She is strong, passionate, smart, courageous, loving, talented, empathetic, compassionate, understanding, accepting, warm, nurturing, open, a good listener, trustworthy, confident, respectful, grounded...she is who I am. I know this, sometimes, but most of the time I let these younger feelings or emotions take over. I need to remember who I really am and stay focused on that, not the past and not past feelings.

My goal is to be my Adult Self at all times, and not get under the influence of my 'younger selves'. Because when I let them overtake me, then I lose all sense of who I really am now. I have grown up. I am strong. I am capable. I CAN do it. I just have to believe it.

:) Jan

Let's Talk About Sex

All right, I've been pondering this post for awhile, but wasn't sure quite how to go about it.

So, no guts, no glory...no embarrassment??? Well, here goes.

I have had issues with sex all of my life. As I mentioned, I was molested as a child. Add to that I was brought up in an ultra-strict church that made sex sound dirty. Add to that I had an emotionally distant and verbally abusive father who did not give me the kind of love and attention for which I craved. Add to that I developed rapidly, and especially with large breasts. I have almost always been overweight--except that I was quite skinny before the molestation incidents and up to starting kindergarten and all of the stress of the anxiety disorder--and have had a very low self-esteem as a result. I have played the "tease" role. I was raped by my fiance. I have given myself away to men who didn't deserve it, but I hoped if I gave them what they wanted, they would give me what I needed. The cards were stacked against me very early for any sort of healthy sexuality, and my own behavior has compounded it throughout the years. Sex has been a very scary thing for me, and a place I've never felt I could be completely vulnerable as I have never been able to trust, for obvious reasons. I'm trying to let all of that go.

The molestations: I was molested 4 times by a variety of people that I should have been able to trust. I'm not sure about the ages, but I believe the first time was at age 3 and probably the last time at age 5 or 6. Every location was different, every situation different, every requirement different, and not all of those involved were men. I often wonder if any of them remember doing it. I do, I sure do. I vividly remember every detail. And I've been working very hard to forgive them so that I can move on and not let it ruin my life anymore.

(When I looked at this post on the page I had to come back here and add that the picture on the left shows me before any of these events happened, but one happened in that chair, right where it sat, beside the kitchen door leading into the living room. I live in the same house today, and though it doesn't look quite the same, I see that spot, and think about it every day. I plan to come back to this topic soon.)

I'm thankful that they were not chronic abuses, but separate incidents. I can't imagine what it would have been like if the person(s) continued to violate me. I thank God that I didn't have to suffer that abuse. All things work for good....

Anyway, I did tell my father about the first incident and he nearly killed the guy. So, it wasn't like I didn't know I couldn't tell anyone. I just learned that the retaliation from that person was unpleasant to say the least. I also felt guilty. Even at that young age I felt like I had done something wrong in that it had happened at all. But, I only later told my mom that any of the others happened, and told her about one of them just within the last couple of years. I guess it's common for survivors of molestation to internalize everything. That has caused me a lot of heartache indeed.

I don't think it's any coincidence that I started to gain weight when I went to school. Not only was I battling nervous vomiting everyday that put me in a love-hate relationship with food and caused me to sneak food in the middle of the night, but it was also around the time I was starting to develop. I remember my father sitting down with my mother and me to say I needed to wear a training bra. That was pretty early on, and I am fairly sure around age 7. I was laughing the other day with a friend with whom I was in the second grade. That year we played BJ and the Bear, from the TV show, at recess out on the playground. Jeff played "BJ" and Brian played "Bear" (my best friend, Mandy, was Bear's sister, even though he didn't have one and that would have made her a monkey, but she had a crush on Brian--how cute is that?). I started out as just one of the many women BJ had around. But, at one point Jeff/BJ said I was to be "Stacks". The girl who had been playing Stacks complained as she had blond hair. Jeff said, "Well, she has the stacks." It was settled.

I think I was learning from all of these events that the only real attention I got from a man was of a sexual nature. All but one molestation occurred exclusively with men. Even at school, boys would pay attention to my developing body. I had such a low self-esteem from the interaction with my father, as well as from being overweight. I, too, think that the weight was a way to make myself undesirable. If I could insulate myself from men by being the fat girl, then maybe they wouldn't hurt me.

That turned when puberty started. I slimmed down some and liked that men would pay attention to me. I can look back on it and think it's because I felt love-starved from my father. But, when I added in the guilt feelings from the church teachings, I was somewhat scared at how I was feeling. I knew that according to the Bible it is wrong to have sex outside of marriage, there was never any doubt in my mind about that. But, some of the people who would do our summer camps were college students, and overcome with zeal to make sure we didn't do anything we shouldn't. I remember this one conversation between 2 college counselors that were speaking. They were talking about saving yourself for marriage and you know how people banter back and forth? Well, this girl finally said, "You shouldn't even kiss before you're married. If you do, you're not a virgin anymore." I was devastated listening to that conversation, I was ruined for sure and felt like I was to blame.

Even though I had a fear of sex, and a fear of making God angry, I wanted to feel wanted. I started playing a teasing game with men. I wanted to get their attention, but only to a point. I remember another summer at that same camp when I met Brian G. I was 12, and he was 18, and of course I didn't tell him how old I was. He had come to camp for the Thursday night camp fire, and somehow we hooked up. We sat together at the fire, and I leaned into him, and we held hands and he started caressing me, etc. Thankfully a counselor finally found us and broke it up, I don't know how far it would have gone. I didn't see him after that night, and frankly don't remember ever talking to him again, but think I might have...?

Later that summer, my mother woke me up really early one morning. "Who's Brian G.?"

"I have no idea, what time is it?"

"Who is Brian G.?"

"I don't know."

"You better figure it out because your father nearly beat him up last night at work."

"Oh, s^&*!"

Well...come to find out this guy had ended up working for my father at the power plant as a college student. Apparently they were all sitting around at dinner and he was telling them about this cute chick he met earlier that summer and even rattled off the telephone number--my telephone number--my dad's telephone number. I don't know exactly what happened, but suffice it to say Brian G. knew I was 12 and he was lucky to be alive. Thank God indeed I was born before the Internet or who knows, he might have Google Earth-ed me and showed up at my house! Oh, I was definitely put in the right place and time!

I never felt beautiful, never thought I was pretty, and my father or brother never helped me in that area, not that I think many male family members really fawn over their female family members and let them know they're beautiful. But, their comments tended to be about how I was ugly and overweight. Anytime that a boy or man would make me feel the least bit pretty or desirable I was automatically obsessed with him and wanted to have him pay attention to me. It's a very dangerous thing when a girl looks for validation from a guy, because if the guy is of questionable character he will get what he can from her, and then discard her. That has happened to me more times than I can count. I'm working on being completely in love with myself so that I don't have to have someone else do it for me.

My parents should have kept closer reins on me, though, and I wish they had seen signs of my trouble with sexuality. Perhaps if you see your child do any of the following, you might check into the possibility of molestation:

- Changing clothes: When I was little I would change my clothes every couple of hours. My mother would catch me doing it, but I never had a good reason, I just wanted to have new clothes on.

- Obsession with clean underwear: To this day I don't go on a trip without 3 times the amount I need, and -- TMI -- find myself changing underwear several times a day. It's almost compulsive at this point.

- Caught with other children doing inappropriate things: I remember doing some things with several different children, and I wonder now if they were molested, too. We would do things like close doors and look at each other naked, play 'doctor', role play as different characters on TV. Our knowledge was way beyond a normal amount, and beyond normal curiosity. I know I acted out some of the things that were done to me.

- Provocative dressing: Especially when I was in grade school, I wanted to wear off-the-shoulder shirts, short skirts, sexy underwear and high heels. I also started wearing eyeshadow, which my mother bought me for Christmas, at age 9! My mom and I have talked about that since then, and she said she thought I was going through a phase. Especially when you consider how even more sexual our culture has become, you must be very careful in how your children, especially girls, are 'sexed up'. It's not just the latest fashion, it's dangerous!!!

- Preoccupation with how sex works: I remember I would ask my mother an inordinate amount of questions about sex and the human body, and would even draw different pictures. In grade school I would steal condoms from my parents and take them as a 'show and tell' of sorts at slumber parties.

- Books and TV (and Internet): I read the V.C. Andrews books like Petals on the Wind and romance books. Watch what your kids check out from the library, and watch what you have on the TV. My dad loved "Solid Gold" and those dancers were nearly naked. He also had sex 'letter' magazines hidden in his underwear drawer which I read periodically. AND, please watch what your kids are doing on the Internet, what they're watching on YouTube. Never let your child have his/her computer in his/her bedroom, make sure it's in a public location in the house and that (s)he is always monitored. I have seen too many boys and girls in the library doing things and talking about things they've done that I've never even thought of as an adult.

If you have any questions, please let me know. You can email me outside of this blog at vpljan@hotmail.com .

I want to help other people identify signs so that if something has happened they can make sure it stops, and make sure the child gets the proper counseling. Now that it's been 32 years living like this, it's hard to change the way I am as a result of the molestations and all that happened after. I wish that it would never happen to another child again, but if it does, I pray that I can help them and you get through it. Don't ignore or deny anything. Which is worse, checking out something to make sure it hasn't happened, or living with the knowledge that you could have done something and didn't?

I think I will stop here instead of going on with the other things that have happened to me sexually and have gotten me where I am. It is important to really understand what molestation can do to a child, and how it builds and shapes who they become in so many ways. Don't smother your kids, but always keep an open dialogue with them so that they feel comfortable telling you everything. Run through their days with them, ask them who they were with, what they did, start as early as possible getting them to chatter on. Also, in talking to my counselor, she said that young kids have a hard time telling you what happened, but they can act out the entire thing, down to what was said, with puppets. Try it. Anything it takes to make sure your kids tell you what's going on is worth it.

I'm SO thankful that God protected me in so many situations. I'm sure some could say, "How can you believe in a 'loving' God if He would let something like this happen?" Well, God doesn't make things happen, He allows things to happen, and He has a plan. I want to help people, and maybe the way I can really help is by helping children and families who are victims of molestation, I don't know. I do know, however, that if I hadn't gone through it, I wouldn't have the perspective that I do.

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28

Maybe advocacy is my purpose, His purpose. I don't know the plan, but I'm willing and He's able.

God bless. :) Jan

I Think I'm Back to "Normal"

Well, it's been a long road from Tramadol to back again, and I am SO glad to be back to where I was before this whole mess. Ironic, I say, as before this I wasn't sure how worse it could be. Well, the laugh was on me, indeed, though I was not laughing. And you know, the doctors have never called me back.

So, anyway, with that madness behind me it's onward and upward! I feel like I lost about a week and a half there. But I feel like I am renewed and ready to fight some more.

You may be wondering, "So, did you lose any weight, then?" Nope, I actually gained 1.8 pounds back. But you know what? That's OK. It was a tough week, and considering everything I think it went pretty well. I need to re-center myself, though, and refocus my mind on that task. WW is an easy program to follow--I can add and subtract for the most part. The hard part is retraining my mind and how it reacts to stimuli that send me to food in the first place.

I saw my counselor for the first time in weeks yesterday, and that was goooooooood. I don't think we really "got anywhere" but I feel like I'm back on the road to getting things straightened out and purged from inside. My counselor has fibromyalgia, so she can quite commiserate on what it's like in every aspect. It's nice to be believed instead of found suspect or tolerated. I'm tired of feeling that way from so many people, whether they be from the medical field or from everyday life. I know that this disease is real. Why it happens, well, that could be from the mind, I don't know, but let me tell you, as I sat up most of last night in pain and unable to get to sleep because of it, I KNOW that it is REAL. I pray you never understand what that is like.

But, in that pain I was able to study more about my Savior. God is amazing. I knew that. I know that, but gosh, it's good to be reminded of exactly HOW good He is! I started reading The Case for Christ by Lee Strobel Sunday night. I could barely stand to put it down. I was captivated! It was so intriguing to me how he went through every plausible argument against the existence of Christ as God, and how in every case he found that history actually supported the claims the Bible makes about Him.

Strobel is a well-known Chicago journalist and atheist. He set out to determine that Jesus is not who the Bible says He is. He interviewed 13 scholars as to the veracity of the claims that Jesus is indeed the Messiah of the Jewish Bible, or Old Testament, and the Savior of the New Testament. In mainstream media and entertainment realms the Bible is treated with contempt or as a nice story. We get the impression that there are no real scholars that are basing the reality of the Bible on true facts. This is far from the case. There are many places in historical records that concur with the Bible testimony of the Apostles.

YOU HAVE TO READ THIS BOOK!!!

I can't tell you what it was like for me to read especially the "CSI-type" account of the torture of Jesus. If anyone can deny Christ's love for us after reading that, so help them God! It changed me forever, and I didn't think anything after the "Passion of the Christ" could do that. I'm planning to get into The Case for the Creator ASAP.

I'm sorry to have to cut this post short today. I have many things I could say about the book, about the Book, and about my God! I'm loving to study about Him. I'm excited to learn more. I want to have as many arrows in my quiver as possible as I head into battle. I hope that people realize how close we are. I hope people realize that the time is coming that we will have to choose whether to pronounce or denounce Christ in our lives. It's no legend, people, the time is near. Please be ready!

:) Jan

The Obsession of Appearance

I've been watching a makeover show and have been thinking about how crazy the world is over appearances.

I have a horrible self-image and really despise myself for how I look. I have always fought feeling incredibly ugly and disgusting because of my weight. I have so many deep-seeded personal issues over how I look, and really how I feel that others see me.

I truly wish I didn't put so much stock into how others view me, whether it be in terms of how I look or my personality. I guess it comes from my childhood, and in particular how my father treated me and how he made fun of me or lashed out when he was angry. I have recently started seeing a counselor in an effort to be free of so many issues that are holding me back from just being completely myself. I know that a lot of the reactions I have towards people or situations are a result of how my father treated me. He has been gone over 6 years now, but it has truly only been in the last year that I have begun to get over how much stock I put into what he thought of me. Even dead, he controlled how I dealt with life.

Again, I owe seeing these things to my best friend, Pablo. He is the only person who ever really called me out on things and made me see the truth. I'm sure other people may have thought about it, but nobody else said anything but him. Our relationship is truly special. I know I drive him crazy, and sometimes he really hurts me, but I believe that both of us are growing and trying to help each other become better people and to have a better relationship.

Anyway, my dad always made me feel that I was never good enough, never was smart enough, never could come up with whatever it was that he was looking for. I can say that through the years I based every other relationship I've had on the principals I learned from him: be what people want you to be; try to be invisible as much as possible; entertain in order to keep others happy and avoid making them angry at or disappointed in you; wait for people to tell you what to do--you won't do it right if you try to do it on your own and your ideas aren't really worth anything anyway; anytime you get into a situation in which someone is angry, just hunker down and take the abuse until they're through and then try to fix whatever's broken. There are many more things, but these are the most common ones that rear their ugly heads and make my relationships so difficult.

So with all of these thoughts in my head, with being overweight which my father and others ridiculed me for so much and made me feel ugly, with not having many relationships in my life with men, and with down-right feeling that I look ugly in almost every way--add to these that the world is so obsessed with beauty and that I in every way am opposite of the definition of beautiful--I doubt that I will ever think anything different. It truly makes my heart hurt. I want to feel beautiful, I want to feel wanted, I want to feel sexy and desirable, but I don't know how that could possibly ever happen.

I am trying to accept myself, though, and to try to make my heart beautiful. I'm hoping that it will be enough to be beautiful on the inside. I believe that it's possible, for a woman to be so beautiful on the inside that a man loves her for that. But, gosh, what hurts is that, even if that happened for me, he would still think I'm ugly. So, I guess even if it sounds selfish, I just want someone to think I'm beautiful. I'm afraid that makes me shallow.

But then, I just remembered a little boy that came up to me once at church and said, "You are so beautiful!" Oh, that made my heart soar! So, I guess, somebody has at least once thought I was beautiful, so that's good. I don't think I'll ever forget that day, and I know he meant it. I thank God He sent him to say it! Someday I hope I see that little guy again so I can thank him for his beautiful heart! But I just wish a man would say it to me and mean it, really mean it, you know?

One of the most hurtful things that people say to me--and I don't think that they even consider how it sounds--but they say, "You would be so pretty if you lost weight." Hmm, ok, well, thanks I guess. So, if I would be pretty if I lost weight, and right now I'm fat, then that means right now I'm ugly. Thank you for only deepening my self-loathing. If I didn't already think I was ugly, you surely sealed the deal. Thanks, I needed that!

I wish that this world was not driven by looks. I wish that what I look like didn't matter. I wish that how I look didn't completely shock and disgust me. I wish, I wish, I wish, but here I am. So, I am going to work on loving myself as I am, where I am, how I am, and pray that God will help me to truly see that I am beautiful in every way.

:) Jan