I recently had a new abuse memory of something my father did to me when I was little, at what age I'm not sure--it probably happened more than once. It surfaced completely unbidden one Sunday morning a couple of weeks ago. I was taking a shower as I was getting ready for church, and I was wondering why taking showers is still so difficult for me, even though I've remembered what he did to me in the shower when I was two. It just seems like it shouldn't be so hard for me if I've already remembered everything I need to know. As I was thinking about that I started seeing these pictures in my mind's eye of my father making me take showers with other men besides himself, and making me do bad things with them and to them. It was like I was a baby prostitute. As the pictures came surging into my consciousness and I began to understand the gravity of what he had done to me, I started to feel kind of nauseated, and I began to cry.
I was in shock. My feelings were a confused jumble of sadness, betrayal, rage, and pain. I hated my father, and I felt incredible shame that he had used me in this way. I had always thought the only time my father used me with other men was during the gang rape when I was three. This new memory showed me that I was tragically and horribly wrong. All I could think of was, how could he treat me like that?!? Children are a gift! A GIFT!! He treated me like trash, and so did his friends. I felt unimaginable grief for the little girl that I was, knowing that I was treated in such an unspeakably horrible way.
Whenever a new memory surfaces for me, one of the first things I consider once I've begun to calm down is forgiveness. I'm sure that probably sounds terribly pious and holier-than-thou, but I really do think like that. God loves my father just as much as He does me, regardless of his behavior towards me--or anyone else for that matter. In addition, forgiveness in the Bible isn't a suggestion, it's a commandment. God says that if we don't forgive those who sin against us, He won't forgive us when we ask for His forgiveness (Matthew 6:14-15, Mark 11:24). That sounds pretty scary to me. I very definitely want my sins to be forgiven.
Aside from all that, on a purely personal and practical basis, holding unforgiveness against someone is bad for your health. Studies have shown that when someone holds unforgiveness against another person, over time bitterness builds up and it can actually make you physically ill. Things like arthritis, ulcers, and cancer can have roots in unforgiveness and bitterness. I don't know about anyone else, but I want God to forgive my sins, and I certainly don't want to be sick.
What I'm coming to realize however, is that the person I need to forgive more than anyone is myself. The problem is, the person I have the hardest time forgiving is myself. Even though I know logically that I was never in anyway responsible for what happened to me, I've never been able to get past blaming myself and hating myself. I've always had this overwhelming feeling, belief even, that there must have been something inherent in who I am that brought the abuse on me. The result is that I expect absolute perfection of myself, I think because I'm trying to control my world so that no more abuse will happen to me if I'm good enough. Of course there's no way I can be good enough, much less perfect, so I get into this vicious circle of making mistakes and then punishing myself--literally. I hit myself across the face. Hard. I've given myself black eyes before.
I've also come to realize that I still have areas of unforgiveness against my mom, mostly because she never protected me throughout my childhood. During all the years when I was being beaten, raped belittled, berated, denigrated, disparaged, derogated, ad infinitum, ad nauseam, and told by my father everytime he did all this terrible crap to me that he had to do this to me because God hated me, and that I was as ugly as if someone had thrown acid on my face, not once did my mother stand up for me, or try and stop my father, or in any way try to protect me from his abuse. I've told her about what he did to me, and her response has always been that she saw bruises, and that if she had known it was sexual abuse the divorce would have happened a lot sooner than it did. And if that weren't bad enough she abused me as well. I've remembered a number of times when I was a baby (yes, an infant) where my mother tried to kill me. She would try to drown me in the bathtub or suffocate me with a pillow, so one of my alters, Deadsally, would come out and make her think she'd succeeded, so she'd stop trying.
It's always been a little easier for me to forgive my mother for her abuse, because I'm just about positive that she's multiple. I'd be very surprised if she actually remembered any incidents of abuse if I confronted her with them. I realize that her denials could just as easily be her attempt to remain in denial, but I'm also fairly positive she was abused when she was a child, though she says she wasn't. But she's told me about times when she was a teenager where she and my Uncle Frank, who's seven years younger than Mom, came home from school to find my grandmother (their mother) drunk, passed out in her own vomit on the floor. Mom would find her first and would keep Uncle Frank from coming in and seeing her. Then Mom would clean her up and put her to bed, and only then would let my Uncle Frank come in the house. That's a clear example of abuse in my book, and I have a feeling it happened with a fair amount of regularity, because Mom has told me innumerable times that both her parents were alcoholics.
Another reason I think Mom is multiple is because as far back as I can remember, she's said things that are the kind of things someone who is multiple would say. Things like, "Gremlins hid my keys..." or whatever it was that she couldn't find at the moment. She said that ALL THE TIME. She was constantly putting something down, and then two minutes later she wouldn't be able to find it or remember where it was.
So the upshot of it all is that I have more forgiving to do than I had originally thought. It's not something that I dread doing, or that will be impossible to manage, or anything like that. The Bible says that with God all things are possible, and that's certainly true in this case. I've already forgiven both Mom and Harry for so many other things. This is just more of the same, and I'll be able to do it with God's help. Sometimes I wonder, though. Will it ever end? Will the time ever come when I have nothing left for which to forgive them?
