Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids


Reason #323: The Man in the Closet

Last night I was so tired. It was well past midnight and I was so tired and I really wanted to sleep. I laid down in bed and I got so scared. I was thinking “What if there is a man hiding in the closet, waiting for me to fall asleep, and then after I fall asleep he will surprise me and attack me?” My heart started beating rapidly, my eyes flew open, my breathing became irregular. I reminded myself that not only had I already checked the closets, but so did my ex. Then my thoughts went to the same surprise-attack scenario, but involving a home invasion. I looked around the room from my vantage point on the bed; no one was there. I listened carefully; I couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. I reminded myself that I am safe, just like my therapist and I have been working on for years. She says that you have to recognize safety in order to recognize unsafety. I reminded myself that my home has an alarm that goes straight to the cops when tripped. Plus I have a dog that sleeps next to me. I reminded myself of all this, but I was panicking anyway. The reminders of safety were helpful, and I eventually used thought-replacement exercises to get to sleep. I kept my mind busy with thoughts of a beautiful life with my next husband in a beautiful log cabin, etc.

I have really been hating the nights lately. My next contracted jobs don’t start until the fall, so until then my schedule is willy nilly. Since my work was the only thing I’d been doing in my life that gave me any sort of self-esteem (not to mention a regular schedule), I have been sad and I guess a little depressed.

Depression and suicide is all about a mostly false thought process inside a person’s head that tells them (over and over again) that the situation they are in will be the situation they are always in. That things will always be like this. That I will always feel this way. I know it is false, because life changes a lot, and sometimes it happens very quickly. Sometimes it happens slowly, but the point is, something always happens to change a person’s life.

I have been trying to think of ways to make the night easier. Maybe I should take up a hobby, like crocheting or cross-stitching during the night. The panic-sleep thing totally totally sucks. Maybe it’s time to do a meditation, or some sort of positive affirmation before bed.

Remember that time I went away to that conference with my friend, and I got scared of the imaginary man behind the curtains in our hotel room? Writing this blog post about last night, alone in my own bedroom, feels like that. But I figured I should put it in the blog today because the entire point of this blog is to keep a running tally of the many ways that surviving abuse in my childhood has fucked me up in adulthood.

This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids. We get completely afraid of being assaulted again, and we find inventive ways to be afraid, and inventive ways to manage those fears. I am 40 years old. It’s been 35 years of survivor sleep. When the fuck does this end??

 

 



Reason #42: Star Trek (The Next Generation)
January 24, 2009, 1:06 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , ,

A few years ago, I was over at my aunt’s house and we were watching an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation (the one with Jean-Luc Picard and Whoopi Goldberg). In that episode, some of the characters somehow had their age regressed until they were all children again. They kind of knew they were still adults, but they were in children’s bodies, and kind of acted like kids too.

So I saw this, and I started thinking to myself “What would happen if such a thing really happened here on Earth, where we were regressed to be kids again?” And that is when I couldn’t breathe. I literally had a fucking panic attack because of this episode of Star Trek.

I know what you’re thinking – ‘it’s ‘cuz she was molested’. And you would be absolutely right in thinking that. It was because I was molested. And of course, this is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

But even when thinking about it – even if I hadn’t ever been molested -even if my childhood had been ‘normal’ – even that thought gives me panic. If I had to regress back to normal childhood, I would still be horrified and panicked at the thought. I mean, think about it, childhood fucking SUCKS. You are constantly at the mercy of people who are bigger than you, who only let you do what you want to do when they agree to it, who tell you when and where to do the most basic of things, like sleeping. And even eating.

When I had that panic attack, I had to explain to my aunt why I was panicking. She said “Well, of course, you had a shit childhood.” And I thought about it, and maybe she was right, but I think childhood is shit anyway. Think about it – would you ever, ever choose childhood again?? I am panicking again at the thought.




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