Filed under: babysitter, brother, fear | Tags: babysitter, dissociative amnesia, memory, motherhood, survivor of child sexual abuse
My son started school last week. I cried my way through most of the week. Lots of mothers get fucked up when their child first enters the school system, so this in itself would not be a reason not to fuck kids. For me though, the whole thing brought me to my knees.
All I could think was ‘I couldn’t keep me safe, and now that he’s at school, I can’t keep him safe either.’ And then I cry and pray and cry and pray. Tears and prayer are what you do when you have nothing else you can humanly do.
The whole thing seems unsafe to me. The school bus, the school building, the teachers, the bigger kids. And then there’s my sweet beautiful son, who is so innocent and sensitive.
I have no memory, but I would have had to have been his age or younger when the babysitter fucked my brother and I. I have no memory of being five, or of kindergarten. I realized that yesterday, that I have no memory of kindergarten. Nothing in my mind about the teachers, the school, nothing, nothing but a big black hole where the memories of life should be. Isn’t that rather odd? I asked my ex if she had any memory of kindergarten, and she said yes. Not only kindergarten but nursery school too.
I once read a study that found that adults that have survived child sexual abuse tend to lose big chunks of their autobiographical memory. I wonder if those adults are actually kids like me who have no memory of the abuse and thus big black holes in their memory of everything else during that time period? Or are there adults who remember the abuse but still have the big black holes in their memory about everything else?
My sweet beautiful son is now out there in the world. I feel like he is alone out there, and when I was left alone, a babysitter came into our home and raped my brother and I. And I’ve been fucked up ever since, and so has my brother. And then he fucked me too, because that’s what he’d been taught by that horrible person.
I keep telling myself that it is okay for children to go to school, that they have to go to school, that this will be a growth opportunity for him. My ex told me how much she loved kindergarten. I swear to G-d, I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about. “How could you have loved it?? It was school!” I said. She said she loved it. My memory begins at age 6, and where I grew up, it was a city environment, and the teachers yelled at us a lot. I saw one teacher pull childrens’ hair a lot too. My grade school felt inherently unsafe to me, probably because I had already been unsafe in the world.
I pray about my son and his school sometimes, but I feel that prayer is useless in this situation. How can I ask G-d to protect my son when He couldn’t even protect me? It seems to me that G-d doesn’t intervene in things like this. He will hold your hand through it and through the healing process, but He will not step in and stop you from being abused. I don’t understand that, but in order to keep surviving, I tell myself that the pain that came with surviving was all part of my life journey. I tell myself that it fueled my growth. I don’t want my son to grow like that.
I don’t understand what G-d is thinking. I mean, yeah, a lot of growth happens in painful times. But shit, a lot of growth happens in loving, nurturing times too. Why did You let me get hurt like that? Why did You let her hurt me like that?
And now I am supposed to just put my son out there on a bus, in a school, in the world, as if it doesn’t scare the shit out of me? Am I supposed to trust the world to take care of him and keep him safe when it couldn’t do that for me?
This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids. Because we grow up and have kids, and the already-painful first day of school brings with it a layer of terror.
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