Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Forrest Gump, high school, survivor of child sexual abuse, survivor of incest
A few weeks ago, we decided to clean out our attic. The huz and I looked through all our old shit, deciding what to keep and what to toss. For the huz, every artifact he came across brought a smile to his face and a lovely memory that he shared. For me, every thing I found reminded me of the age I was then, how I looked, how I felt, what stage of the sexual abuse I was experiencing at the time, etc. Each new item I found was a reminder of how I grew up in a family that would have had to take a step UP to be dysfunctional, whereas for the huz, each item was a reminder of each wonderful experience he had grown up with.
I tossed a lot of shit into the “Burn it in the fireplace pile” with a vengeance, as if I could burn the memories as well as the actual items that were being tossed in.
At the end of the day, the huz goes “What a great day we had today!” I just stared at him – I had no idea what to say. Looking through these physical reminders of my shit life before I met him was not a great day, and if anything, the experience was just downright painful. Looking at my husband’s smiling face though, I felt like such a fucking loser. Yet again, I felt like Jenny from Forrest Gump, where Forrest is doing all this stuff and not-so-secretly pining for Jenny, and there she is with her dad fucking her and then a long string of guys fucking her while she’s drugged out trying to dissociate from all these terrible experiences. It’s like the whole time Forrest is pining for her, and yet there she is on a fucking ledge trying to end the misery.
Cleaning out the attic. Perfectly normal activity that is completely weird and fucked up because I am weird and fucked up because I survived child sexual abuse. That’s why you shouldn’t fuck kids.
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Reasons You Shouldn't Fuck Kids 
I have been reading so many of your archived posts today and fighting off tears. A lot of what you write I relate to so much, and it’s both relieving and terrifying to know that I’m not alone in these things. I want to thank you for having the courage to write about it.
Comment by presentlyhuman September 21, 2010 @ 12:42 amA perfect analogy- Forrest Gump as your husband seems fitting, and you as Jenny. I recently watched that film at the local community mental health clinic I belong to with a young man whom also identified strongly with Forrest, I believe, for different reasons than your husband. He had developmental disability issues, and he told me that he believed that Forrest had the ability to see Jenny’s history with abuse, and could love her regardless.
Comment by sandma1half September 21, 2010 @ 4:01 amI believe that that film has a lot to teach us about relationships and our responsibility to talk about the past with each other especially when it obviously affects us so strongly in the present. Thank you for reminding me of this moment.
Hi Human and Sandra – thank you for your kind words of wisdom.
– Butterfly
Comment by butterflysblog September 21, 2010 @ 5:13 pmDear Butterfly,
I am so sorry. I can relate. Consequently I don’t have much from those years. There was more that I did want to keep but one of my brothers managed not to drive me my boxes and later claimed it all got stolen. Don’t know what really happened, he is a serial liar. That stuff I think I might still want, or maybe not, don’t know, that happened when I was nineteen.
Good and healing thoughts to you.
Kate
Comment by kate1975 September 24, 2010 @ 12:48 am