From: anon-1280@twwells.com (Ode)
Newsgroups: alt.sexual.abuse.recovery
Subject: Memories Invalidated??? Re: Child
Date: 12 Oct 92 06:45:02 GMT
Organization: Anonymous Posting Service at twwells.com
X-Email-Accepted: yes


******** SPOILER ******

Ode here. Something awful happened yesterday and I'm more confused
than ever. I thought I'd finished with Child, but now...either I've
only just begun or I'm an awful person (not intentionally) and I
have to work on *that*.

Ok, Friday night I talked to a friend of mine and told her my
complete story, not just Child but all the others too. She
was a perfect person to talk to, compassionate and insightful.

I should add that the above conversation was a *MAJOR* milestone
for me, because it's the very first time I've opened my mouth
and talked about any of this. Writing is one thing, but to have
words pass my lips, well, that's a first.  

I assumed that Saturday would be a "good" day and I wasn't even
expecting myself to go Alaska. I was wrong. The whole day I was
depressed, teary, naseous and headachy. I was at work so I had
plenty of time to mull over things.

I got to thinking about my perp, and wondering what happened to
him. My friend had suggested that it wouldn't be suprising if
he wasn't arrested because child abuse and sexual molestations
weren't treated the same way back then. Nowadays more perps
are arrested but then things seemed to be pushed under the
rug more, especially if the child isn't injured. I said that
I would like to think that he went to jail, just so he wouldn't
have found any more kids to screw around with, but that yeah,
he probably didn't.

Then, I started thinking about how he was getting me ready for
intercourse and I laughed and thought to myself "Ha! you didn't
get to finish the job!" and then, the most horrible thing happened.

I had a "scenario" pass through my brain. In the space of a few
seconds I had this vision of him driving by one of the routes
I walked to school and motioning me to the car. I was overjoyed to
see him, just ecstatic! He drove me to a country road and parked
and then raped me and left me there.

IT DIDN'T HAPPEN! I'm SURE of it! 

I was in a panic, still am! My God, does this mean that all my
other "memories" are invalidated?

I thought long and hard. I'm still certain that the "Virginian"
memory and the one with my mom are real, because they've stayed
with me for all these years, even though years might go by where
then. I'm secure there, which is good, or else I'd really be
going crazy now!!! I am certain that I *was* sexually molested!

But the other ones, the ones that have only come in the last few
weeks, I mistrust now. Though none of them came as a result of
a "scenario" prompt like the one above, I just can't take them
at face value anymore.

I suppose hypnosis will be the only way I can find out for sure
what actually is a memory and what isn't. Geez, I don't know
what to think. Has this happened to anyone else? How did you
separate the imagination from the reality? I never thought
my imagination was all that "productive" so that's another
reason this suprises me so much. Still, I know that the mind
can conjure up anything at all. It can picture a green pickup
truck parked on an orange picnik table, with a red ball stuck
on the radio antenna. On Mars.

:-( help! I'm so confused :-(


God, has everything I've written become null and void? :-(
If so, I *never* meant to mislead anyone. Everything I wrote
was true to me at the time I wrote it.

To make it all worse, I talked to a (different) friend last
night and told her the entire story, including the "scenario"
crisis. She was convinced that nothing happened to me and that
I should quit living in the past and blaming my present problems
on it. Now, at first I was inclined to disregard what she said,
because she's never had any kind of major trauma in her life
and my whole experience was totally alien to her. But today
I've been thinking about what she said and found myself
agreeing with her! I had decided to unsubscribe from asar,
destroy all my files and forget everything.

Still, my life-long depressions aren't a figment of my imagination,
something's going on and I have to find out what. That's why I 
decided to write here again. 

What should I do?

 -vickie-



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