No one tells you those suppressed memories will haunt you.
They will track you down on your happiest day, and make every miniscule speck of sunshine turn dark.
A small child, of just the age of 5, doesn’t understand sexual assult. And surely doesn’t understand why the things done to her at night in secret, that naturally feel good to us by just human nature, she gets in trouble for when she repeats them by herself in the day.
I remember a few days when I was five. I know I was five because I remember I got a special electric pet game for my birthday and I was playing with it.
We were at “our friends” house again. He wanted to play our usual game of house. But I wanted to play with my game.
“But this is more fun” he said. Then he threw my special toy across the room. “Let me show you…”
He touched me and rubbed. I remember it felt good. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know it was wrong. So I surely didn’t understand the next day, when my Mom found me repeating it on myself, and she screamed, and yelled, and hit me. Over and over. Calling ME, a PERVERT.
What does that even mean? To a five year old?
I know what it means today. Obviously. But now it’s too late to matter.
I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. Why was she punishing me? How could something that feels so good, be bad?
Why didn’t she ask me where I learned the behavior? Why the fuck did I get punished? Fuck punished. WHAT THE FUCK DID I GET MY ASS BEAT FOR ??
To this day that troubles my mind. A normal person would question why a small child is touching themselves very inappropriately. Not punish the child.
But no..that’s not the “family” I had.
Can you imagine 20 years into the future, sitting at home with your family (kids and husband), having a fine day. Then all of a sudden something triggers this/these memories out of your mind. The rage you feel, starts overwhelming every ounce of your being. Destroying your life again.
And just remembered… I’m still only 5
As more and more memories flood your head you go silent. Start twitching and crying.
And to still not have a voice that’s able to spill forth these suppressed horrors.
Some days man….some days…the feel of a blades edge is the only thing that releases and eases the rage that wants to come out.