It’s Not Over When It’s Over (Part 2)

by Dawn Scott Jones

            Sexual abuse is one of the most devastating traumas a person can experience. A survivor’s life is scarred in ways that go beyond our comprehension. Once abuse is over and the survivor is out of danger, she is left with the devastating aftermath abuse.

Perhaps you’ve seen it.

            You’re in a relationship with a woman who has been wounded by sexual assault. You want to help her, but you’re not sure how.

When sexual abuse happens, it shatters trust and the ability to trust. It destroys feelings of security. Because the abuse is usually done at the hands of someone older or more powerful and against the child’s will, she is left stripped of her boundaries—feeling powerless, vulnerable and fearful. She’s been intimidated—her self-confidence, decimated.  And since a child is too young to place responsibility where it belongs—on the abuser—she blames and belittles herself.

Regardless of the form of abuse suffered, whether a single experience or a lengthy season, the woman experiences a wounding invasion—a molestation of her mind and soul.

Well in adulthood, survivors struggle with:

      •     Shame and guilt

      •     A sense of worthlessness and damaged self-esteem

      •     Fear, anxiety, and panic attacks

      •     Sleep disturbances and eating disorders

      •     Impaired memory and flashbacks

      •     Fear of trust and intimacy

      •     Depression and suicidal thoughts

These plaguing symptoms persist because most survivors try to ignore the abuse committed against them and repress their emotions. Confused and bewildered, survivors often are unequipped to interpret or process the intensity of emotion that’s present: pain, rage, fear, panic, guilt, shame or pleasure. Emotional circuitry is overloaded.

Rather than process the trauma, many abuse victims shut down their feelings and go emotionally numb to mentally survive. Tragically, they grow-up disconnected from their feelings, unable to experience the full spectrum of emotions.

As one survivor put it;

“I’m afraid that if I start to cry I’ll never be able to stop or if I start to “feel” I’ll fall into a black hole and never find my way out.”

Learning to feel, however, is the beginning of healing.

When the dam breaks and emotions are allowed to come, survivors are faced with a decision to walk the healing journey or find other suppressive, unhealthy methods of coping with emotional upheaval.

 If healing is chosen, the process of wholeness will include stages of healing such as:

      1.   Denying the truth

      2.   Deciding to heal

      3.   Surviving crisis

      4.   Remembering

      5.   Choosing to tell

      6.   Releasing responsibility

      7.   Finding the inner child

      8.   Grieving loss

      9.   Expressing anger

      10. Forgiving

      11. Resolving the conflict

Choosing to heal is excruciating at times, but the journey is life-giving.

If you’re a survivor, take the hand of Jesus and trust him as you walk into the light. Remind yourself that you are safe now, and you can start to feel.

If you support a survivor, help her recognize and feel the damage that was done to her. Encourage her to be honest about the pain of her sexual abuse, and to choose wholeness.  Her healing is possible, and with your love and help she can explore the depths of her wounds and begin recovery.

 Dawn

To read more, please read Dawn's book, When a Woman You Love Was Abused. Thank you, Dawn, for sharing your wisdom with us. We are truly blessed and encouraged by you and your work.

It’s Not Over When It’s Over (Part 1)

Today, we welcome Dawn Scott Jones, author of When a Woman You Love Was Abused.

 I’m a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. I want to tell my story because I’m hopeful that by doing so, others can draw from the insights I’ve gained and find help and comfort in knowing that they’re not alone.  Indeed we’re not alone:

·         One in three girls have encountered sexual abuse. For boys, the generally accepted statistic is one-in-six.    

·         Ninety percent of victims know their abuser. Commonly reported abusers are fathers, stepfathers, brothers, uncles, and grandfathers. Other abusers are babysitters, teachers and neighbors.

Until recently, I couldn’t have told you how deeply I was affected by sexual abuse, but years later I’ve come to know that abuse is not over, even when it’s over.

My Story

Although I don’t have total recall, I have vivid memories of the sexual molestation I encountered. Behind the curtain of love and security given in my childhood home, lurked a monster—a sexual predator. I wish I’d never known about him, but bit-by-bit the drape was pulled back until finally I met the monster.

He was my dad by day, but something else by night. One evening I went to bed with the innocence of a child and the next morning I awakened with intense shame. My father, my childhood hero, had become my abuser. The one I looked to for protection, security, and love was the one stripping it from me. My innocence was stolen—my sense of worth, shattered. Is this all I’m made for? For the next several years I questioned my value, my abilities, and my worth.  I tried to ignore my past by stuffing my emotions and minimizing my pain. I denied the impact of sexual abuse.

But soon my body told on me; Panic attacks, depression, anxiety, and sleep disturbance, began to plague me. Anger erupted at the slightest perceived threat. Trust issues and intimacy fears surfaced in relationships. I was unraveling at the seams of my soul. Although sexual abuse had been over for years, it wasn’t over at all.  I was still a victim caught in its grip.

Many survivors find themselves in a similar vice-grip. They tend to minimize or dismiss the trauma of their abuse by reasoning, “It’s in the past.” Or “ It wasn’t that bad.”

Reality is often too devastating and overwhelming to face, so they suppress their abusive past, hoping that the residue of trauma will disappear with the passing of time.  

The psychological imprint abuse leaves on its victims, however, is massive. Soul-wounds like these don’t just somehow mysteriously fade away when abuse ends. On the contrary, only when abuse is over, can a survivor start to process the event and thaw out from her emotionally frozen state. Often, this is years later.

If you, or someone you know is suffering with the aftermath of abuse, it’s not uncommon—in fact, it’s expected. Survivors question if they’ll ever find peace. Haunting memories lurk on the peripheral of their mind and they wonder how long they can evade them. They desire wholeness, but doubt it’s possible.

Well, the hope of healing and overcoming is alive. Survivors can experience a healing journey and find freedom after abuse. It’s an exhilarating and excruciatingly painful pathway, but Jesus will walk with anyone who calls on his name.

Next week, in Part 2, we will explore what it means to find healing from S.A.

Dawn Scott Jones

Dawnjones.org

The Healing Circle

“Will I ever be free from the shame?” she asked.

I wasn't sure how to answer her. I’m not a counselor. So I took a deep breath, prayed for wisdom, and shared from my experience, not as a survivor, but as someone who has tasted pain and needed healing.

Image courtesy of Smarnad/freedigitalphotos.net

“My experience with healing is that it cycles. I go to my place of pain, identify the lie that has been hiding behind the hurt, and I replace the lie with truth. I cheer and celebrate—one more lie I no longer believe. I live my life. Then something happens, a life experience or maybe another hurt, and I find myself back where I thought I’d healed. A new lie or perhaps an old one surfaces. So I go deeper and sometimes see an old lie from a different angle. With each cycle, more healing takes place. Will I ever be completely free from the pain? The shame? I don’t know.”

I wish I could have told her that someday she would have complete freedom from her shame, because I love a happy ever after ending. Who doesn't?  And although I do believe in miracles, I also believe that my process of healing has taught me far more than a miracle ever could. The healing I've received has been worth the work. And my life is better now.

I spoke with a licensed counselor, with years of experience, after this conversation. I asked her if healing cycles. She drew her finger in the air in a series of circles and replied, “Over and over again.”

The Mountain of Unworthiness (Spouses Caught in the Ripple, Part 4)

When she told her finance about her abuse, she thought he was thinking, Damaged Goods, but that was her thought, not his.

But what did she want to hear? If they could go back in time, what does she wish he would have said?

She writes: “Reassurances that I was still loved and valued by him and an acknowledgement that it was difficult for me to share my abuse with him.  Also, I wanted him to recognize that I must trust in him, in order, for me to share my past. 

I feel conflicted when I imagine him telling me these things. Still there is a deep part of me that wants to hear them, but an outer shell that feels shame when I am told how much I am loved and valued.  That seems so weird to write, because it is honestly what I desire most to hear.  But, maybe there is a part of me that feels undeserving of it?”

All children are born deserving of love and worthy of being valued. Enter sexual abuse and shame's echoes fill the soul, “Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy.”

Image courtesy of Dan, FreeDigitalPhotos.net

And the mountain of unworthiness rises high above the newly married couple, daring them to climb.

Visit us next week  and join them in the climb.

To read Spouse Caught in the Ripple, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, please click on highlighted areas.

The Mountain of Damaged Goods (Spouses Caught in the Ripple – Part 2)

“When did you first tell your spouse that you had been sexually abused?” I had emailed two different women through two private emails and asked them the same question.

They responded. Privately.

One had told within the first year of dating her spouse, the other had told when she knew marriage was looming in their future.

“My biggest fear was that he would view me as used or damaged goods.  That I would somehow not be new or special to him because of my abuse,” replied the one.

“At the time,” said the other, “I had no expectations about his response. Perhaps I wanted him to know I was damaged goods? It would ‘let him off the hook’ so to speak.”

Image courtesty of Michal Marcol/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net"

Two different women.  Two different abuse stories.

One description.

Damaged goods.

But that wasn't what the men were thinking when they heard. It wasn't what they were thinking—at all.

  

Please join us next Tuesday. The husbands respond.

To read Spouses Caught in the Ripple click here.

The Wonder of "What If"

Out of 39 million, we hear you. We hear the heart wrenching strains of a familiar survivor song.

We wonder at each story’s climax what might have happened if someone had stepped in – right then.

We wonder how the life of that sweet little girl or that rambunctious boy might have been different had they been told.

I sing the chorus of wonder myself from the sting of my own childhood sexual abuse.

Our stories are many. Answers often few. But to my amazement, God fills. He fills the void of “what ifs” with “what nows.”

I can make a difference now for my child, my friend’s and family’s children. I can join together with others who are speaking up and speaking out. I can speak the words “sexual abuse” without fear because I know that others need to hear it and children need to know that it’s out there and what to do if they meet it.

And my wonder changes from the curiosity of a different past to a feeling of wonderment – seeing people embracing the cause and taking action.


Written by: Christy, a survivor (www.ahearteninglife.com)


 Linking here today:
 

The Ripple

The old woman opened her eyes and took a shallow breath, “I have something . . . I need . . . to tell you. Something . . . I’ve never told . . . anyone.”

Her daughter leaned in closer, “Mom, don’t talk now,” she said, as she swept a white strand of hair back from her ashen face. “Just rest.”

“No,” she whispered. “I . . . need to say this. I have to tell. When I was seven . . . a man rented a room at our house. My parents . . . they needed the money. I never told them. I couldn’t. But that man . . . he . . .”

                                                                ~~~~

I was shaking hands after a speaking engagement. A woman in her fifties approached me.

“My mother was in her eighties and on her death bed when she told. It all made sense—why she treated my older sister the way she did. My sister has been in counseling for years. Her counselor told her that she had all the signs and symptoms of a woman who had been sexually abused. But my sister had never been sexually abused. My mom treated my older sister terribly. She transferred her pain to my sister.”

The ripple effect. One cause leads to an effect, which leads to another effect, and so on and so on.

The effects of sexual abuse can ripple. A mother, clothed in a long, flowing robe of shame, unknowingly swaddles her daughter in the folds of its opaque fabric. The lies the mother believes become a cloak of untruths around her daughter’s heart, mind, and soul.

The above story is tragic. But it doesn't have a tragic ending.

When the mother told, her daughter heard, and a loose piece of thread from the robe was exposed. And with a tug, the opaque fabric began to unravel. One sister was able to help the other see the truth and continue to heal. And the mother entered eternity free from the secret that held her captive for most of her life.

Unresolved pain can ripple. It may not have been your choice to hurt, but it can be your choice to heal. Please join us on Tuesdays and heal with us.

Letting Go, Christy's Voice (Part 4)

Used by permission, Photography by Christy Mae, Copyright 2012

Never have I felt so vulnerable, yet so free.

After God began the process of band-aid removal  (Part 3), I was forced to see all the ways I had been covering up the pain of childhood sexual abuse. Standing bare, heart exposed I had to face the truth about myself – and God.

Slowly I began to see God’s hand in my story. I saw my hands clenched white-knuckled around a rope, grabbing and pulling with all my might. I was playing tug-of-war with the Creator of the Universe. And it wasn't getting me anything except rope burns.

I wanted to believe God, to trust Him. I longed for a relationship with Him, His offer of unconditional love, and a promise to never leave me. I saw surrender as my only option.

Surrender is hard, especially for a control freak like me, who had grown accustomed to holding on to things. Control offered me a false sense of security, and I finally realized I actually controlled very little.

Self-evaluation can get ugly. But God was patient. He waited until I was ready and graciously revealed what I needed to see, as I needed to see it. Healing didn’t happen overnight. The longer I lived with the lies, the harder it was to break free of them. Frequent re-evaluation became a critical part of my life, as it is now.

In an act of faith, I began giving my fears and insecurities over to God. Healing is a lengthy process—an ongoing process. I have to make daily choices: to trust God when I want to rely on myself, to relinquish my need to know “why” or any desire to change the past, to accept His often, mysterious plan and His promise to find worth in it all.

I have experienced faith-filled healing and continue to do so. But first, I had to let go of the rope.

We believe healing occurs best in community. If you are a survivor and would like to share your story, please email Carolyn or Christy at Tamarsredemption@verizon.net. We will work with you to bring your words to life on our blog. You may share anonymously or use your name. Thank you. 

Finding the Real Me, Christy's Voice (Part 3)

When my kids were small they thought a band-aid could fix anything. A tiny scratch or a banged up knee just felt better when you put a band-aid on it.

You and I know there is nothing magical about those sticky, adhesive bandages. They are a temporary fix while the real healing work happens—under  the band-aid, from within.

In a perfect world you could stick a band-aid on the hurts of life, ignore it for a few days and you'd be good as new. But real healing is intentional and it takes a lot of hard, often agonizing, work.

In my mid to late twenties two major conflicts in my life, including years of not dealing with the pain of childhood sexual abuse, became the catalysts for deep personal healing.

I had unknowingly put an invisible wedge between me and God. I wanted to feel connected to Him, but I struggled with feeling let down by Him because He didn't intervene. I had concocted an idea of who I wanted God to be and when He didn't measure up, I was convinced it meant He wouldn't take care of me. I wanted God to swoop in before bad things happened in my life, not just clean up the mess after.

www.ChristianPhotos.Net

This is where God found me—covering myself with band-aids and in a lot of pain.

God started removing the bandages one by one. Sometimes quick, sometimes slow and careful. This process hurt as He showed me all that I had been hiding under there. With the bandages removed I could finally see the real me—wounds and all.

This is when the real healing began.

Looking for Eden, Christy's Voice (Part 2)

Tamar's Redemption Tuesdays

 How We Hurt, How We Heal

Eight years ago, in a time of immense trial, God became real to me. Although God and I met every Sunday since I was very small, sitting next to my Grandmother in the church pew, he always felt far away.

For many years, I imagined myself at the front of the time machine line – clicking back the years and changing history. I thought a re-write was exactly what I needed. Cue the knight in shining armor to save me from my childhood sexual abuse. This would change my life – for the better.

As I imagined my perfect story, free from betrayals and hurts of any kind, full of love and laughter and – everyone doing things my way –it hit me. I was looking for Eden when I live in Pennsylvania.

Used by permission, Photography by Christy Mae, Copyright 2012

Viewing my world through “personal hurt glasses” I was rejecting the story God was writing for my life. I saw every hurt, every trial as a punishment, or a lack of protection, against me. I struggled to understand how evil things happened under the watchful, ever-present eye of a loving God.

Counseling helped me to remove those glasses until I finally understood. My hero did come –but it was not in the way I had pictured it. I needed to put aside my own stubborn self to see a hero strong enough to withstand my nagging questions, loving enough to handle all of my doubts, and faithful to stay with me until I was ready to see.

"That which we fear might happen to us — might be the thing to produce deep faith in us. Why be afraid of anything — when He’s using everything?"

-- Ann Voskamp, "A Holy Experience"

You may want to read, (Part 1) Looking for a Hero, Christy's Voice

We invite you to visit Christy's blog - http://www.ahearteninglife.com/

Looking for a Hero, Christy's Voice (Part 1)

Used with permission, Photography by Christy Mae, Copyright 2012

Tamar's Redemption Tuesdays

How We Hurt, How We Heal

Thirty-six years a survivor and I still wrestle with God.

When painful memories overwhelm, it’s hard for me to see – to see God in that darkness. I have pleaded with God for His “five w” answers, but all I really want to know is “Why?”

Blaming my adult abuser was not enough for me. God became an easy target for my barrage of questions and doubts, my feelings of anger and helplessness.

If You created my inmost being and my days are written in your book, then how did You know and do nothing? Was I not worth it?

How easy it was to assume He had turned a blind eye. If He wouldn't look out for me, I would have to do it.  Stubbornly I assigned myself protection duties and began a career as a control freak – I would never be hurt again.

Back then, I needed a hero to swoop in and save the day. But He never came.

Or so I believed.

“Where were You when sin stole my innocence?

Where were You when I was ashamed?”

-Matt Maher “You Were On The Cross”

Voices of Tamar’s Redemption: Christy’s Voice, Christy’s Journey (Part 4)

Tamar's Redemption Tuesdays

How We Hurt, How We Heal

Desperate, I wanted to trust people.

I searched for acceptance and love from anyone who was willing to give it to me. Internally, I traded my trust for a guarantee – that I would never be hurt again. I jumped into relationships with everything I had. I clung to them, relied on them, looking for some security. I wanted to feel safe.

Like a teeter-totter, I swayed between depending on others for what I needed and relying on myself.  I knew deep down I would get hurt, but I also knew not trusting anyone was impossible. So I remained skeptical, ready to step in to protect myself at any moment.

Marriage was a proving ground. Initially, the promised commitment felt safe. But it wasn’t long before it all started to fall a part.

All I knew of sex and love came from untrustworthy sources. Because of my abuse, sexuality was covered in a veil of shame. Still in denial about my abuse, marital intimacy became a struggle.

I finally felt the nudge to deal with my sexual abuse. Up until that point I was suffering in silence. But the infection inside of me had become contagious. It was infecting other people. The cure, I relented, would be to finally talk about it.

Counseling became an outlet, helping me to make sense of the abuse and find my voice. It was a long, arduous process. Like surgery, my counselor helped me open it up and dig around in there. Together we removed the parts that were unhealthy.

 Used with permission, Photography by Christy Mae, Copyright 2012

It hurt a lot at first. But slowly, I was stitched back up. Tenderly, we cared for the wound until eventually it is healed from the inside out.

I have a scar.

It’s not raw anymore. Most days I don’t even see it, forget about it. But remnants will always remain. Flare-ups will happen. It’s a part of my story.

I am a survivor. And I have finally learned to live that way.

For more of Christy's story see Part One, Part Two, Part Three

 Christy's blog www.ahearteninglife.com

If you would like to encourage Christy or comment on her post and prefer not to respond anonymously on this blog, please feel free to email your comment to this secure address Tamarsredemption@verizon.net. I will be glad to send your comment or question to Christy. Blessings to you, Carolyn

Voices of Tamar’s Redemption: Christy’s Voice, Christy’s Journey (Part 3)

Tamar's Redemption Tuesdays

How We Hurt, How We Heal

I was just a kid. I had no reason not to trust him, but this left me vulnerable. He had relied on my innocence, my ignorance, and my trust. I obeyed his instructions because that is what I had always done, what I felt was expected of me. I was unaware of appropriate body boundaries. Not at that age, not back then. My abuser had certainly crossed the line.

 Used with permission, Photography by Christy Mae, Copyright 2012

This betrayal changed me.

After awhile I stopped trusting adult men. I didn’t know I was doing that at the time, of course. This change was deep inside of me, mixed into the undercurrent of how my young mind had interpreted the yucky things that happened to me. Confusion birthed lies, which took root under my surface.

Inside, my world was a swirling mess. I wanted to trust others, but I was always skeptical. On one hand I knew I could always rely on myself. But I also questioned whether I could trust my own instincts. They had been “wrong” before.

I began to believe the only way I could keep someone from taking advantage of me was to be the one in control. I doubted people had my best interest at heart so I depended on myself and set high expectations of others.

I was in bondage. Chained, to lies I had unknowingly accepted as truth. All the control I thought I had could not keep my world from falling apart.

I needed help. But I knew I couldn’t do it on my own.

“Peace and trust take years to build and seconds to shatter.”   --Mahogany SilverRain

For more of Christy's story see Part One, Part Two

 Christy's blog www.ahearteninglife.com

If you would like to encourage Christy or comment on her post and prefer not to respond anonymously on this blog, please feel free to email your comment to this secure address Tamarsredemption@verizon.net. I will be glad to send your comment or question to Christy. Blessings to you, Carolyn