The Blemished Rose

This year I spent the Christmas holidays back in the land where many a horrible thing has happened to me. Although I felt calmer this year, I still waited in anticipation as the month of January loomed over me like a grey cloud. It was nice being with my close family and choosing who I would/wouldn't see. My take on it is that I can count on one hand who I trust in my family, the rest I'm not bothered about seeing. I refuse to visit people who just want to gossip and stab each other in the back. January is always the worst month of the year for me and no matter how hard I try to block out memories, they still find their way into little cracks in my mind. Ironically, this year they just couldn't wait to get to me. On New Year's Day at dawn I awoke with what felt like a thorn stabbing at my heart. My heart was racing at what felt like 100mph and my head felt like it was going to explode. I arose and went to drink lots of water, thinking I was possibly dehydrated. After tw...

Everyone experiences ups and downs in life, as they say, it's like a rollercoaster. Sometimes I wonder why we are thrown certain obstacles that we have to tackle; perhaps they help us build up strength so that next time it's not as difficult to jump over the hurdle. Something that seems to be constantly thrown in my face though is happy families. I must admit that sometimes it's hard to face something I never had and possibly never will have. Coming from a disjointed family makes it rather difficult seeing others who appear to be so happy. I watched a movie today that featured a large family. Although they had clearly been through a lot together, watching them have fun didn't make me laugh but made me feel sad. They went through bad times together but spoke openly about their feelings and emotions, something my family could never do. In my family, feelings were expressed through shouting, violence, anger and arguments. It was a lot of hot air for nothing that left e...

After years of suffering from a variety of health issues, I now realise that they all link to my past, most illnesses are psychological after all. As a sufferer of irritable bowel syndrome for the past few years, I’ve recently found out that gastrointestinal problems (GI) may be second only to depression as the most frequent long-term result of child sexual abuse. As many as 71% of female children and adolescents who experience forced sex with an adult for more than two years may later develop GI disorders. About four years ago, I was in a stressful work environment and began having difficulties urinating. I felt very embarrassed as my underwear was constantly soiled and I eventually had to go to the doctor for medication that helped control the involuntary urine loss. The doctor told me I was suffering from urge incontinence; it subsided a little when I left the stressful work place. Sexual abuse survivors have a significantly higher incidence of genitourinary dysfunction symptoms i...

This week I've been back in the classroom teaching a group of primary and junior teachers. I had flashbacks while I was in the classroom but they were surprisingly pleasant. They are only little things but they have helped me realise how far I’ve come. The first flashback came when my colleagues were looking at a teddy I had on my desk; I said that I might keep it there for the rest of the day as a mascot. A few seconds later, I was suddenly transported back in time to my old school gym where I took my school exams aged 16; sat on my desk was a little teddy as a mascot. The second flashback came a few hours later when I was monitoring my adult students having fun and getting excited while playing snakes and ladders. It looked as though they were having such a good time that I didn’t want to stop them, this took me back to my school days and how at exactly the same time (3.20pm) I would often not want the day or activity to end. I always loved the game snakes and ladders too! Writin...

When I was the age they call ‘sweet 16’ I wrote a song titled: “I’m All Alone Again” and now, at twice that age, I suddenly feel the very same sentiment. I guess I’ll always be a loner and that’s something I just need to accept. It’s strange how I’ve come full circle and now find myself almost back in that same situation- kind of a weird flashback. I’ve recently realised many things about my life and the jigsaw pieces have finally fallen into place, so to speak. One night I prayed for answers through endless tears and it’s strange how they suddenly came to me and hit me like a sharp blast of wind. Sometimes we don’t realise what has happened to us until we reflect and look for the reasons why things occurred in our life. I recently had a memory of me as a young girl on the swing in the garden, making up songs and singing for hours on end. Then at 16 years of age, I lost all the things that I had going for me and hid away like a shrinking violet. My passion for music, dance and play...

I told my mother and father that perhaps they should confront the abuser, as I did, to release their anger. Upon reflection, my mother decided it was time to confront him, so I drove my parents to the hospital where he was a patient. I wasn’t planning on going in as I had already told him everything I had to say, but upon arrival I decided to confront that evil face one last time. In the lift I could almost hear the thoughts swimming around in my parents’ brains, once again I felt an unknown power build up inside me. I was the first to emerge from the lift and as I walked out into the corridor there was an old, dying man sat alone in his pyjamas – it was the paedophile. My mother approached him and said, “You are a paedophile and criminal and you will burn in hell.” He tried shouting back but stayed silent when I told him to shut up- once again, I felt as though the roles had reversed. I had a flashback to all those years ago, strapped down to him naked with his hand cupping my mouth t...

A couple of months after I confronted my abuser, I returned to that place full of painful memories. It was the first time in years that I had entered the evil house where so many abusive acts had taken place. As I entered through the rotting, wooden door, an intense heaviness came over me. I could hear a television blaring in the house next door; I knew that it was my abuser viewing it. I felt a sudden burst of adrenaline as I pulled out the posters I had prepared bearing his face and a single word- ‘paedophile.’ I stuck them in various places including some very poignant ones, like a mattress- signifying the place I had been taken advantage of so many times. A calendar- because it was something he would use to lure me there. As I left the house, I felt the heaviness release from within and when I emerged into the wintry air, I cried and my tears melted into the deep snow. Last summer, four years after the initial confrontation, I returned there once more. Although I had gone back ther...