Holding back the tears were never hard to do, I had the act down. The child I was in public and the child I was in private. I looked like every other blue eyed, brown haired girl.
The other children so different than me. I hid my experience well as I had been instructed to do.
Where my hands should have been held with love they were placed in hands of a monster.
Where dreams of Cinderella were replaced by dread of how I would be awoken.
Will he be on top of me? Beside me? In me?
I can still smell his breath. His face more clear than my own mothers. His voice, his threats still ring through my ears. The heaviness of his body and the fear that screamed in my head afraid to scream out loud.
His hands on me, prodding me and teaching me how to touch back. He was proud of me. I touched as I was instructed. I was a quick learner... But why wasn't he teaching me to tie my shoes or how to write my name? Is this how all daddy's love? I had to wonder... Too young to know and too afraid to ask.
Hoping my mom would pick me up everyday, how I loved her. She told me stories, sang to me and held me when I cried... never knowing what was behind the eyes of her daughter.
Scared to say a word....
A letter written to Elvis... he was known as the "King" and this was my way of getting help...
I told him everything that was happening to me as legible as a 7 year old could write. I begged for him to come save me and my mommy... when I got a letter back.. the excitement and relief was dashed when it was a photo and a thank you note... he didn't read my letter. I was devastated.
Who out there could save me....?
Who cared enough to notice?
Vick - I think you should tell your therapist about your blog contents and allow him to read them. Or would that stop you from opening up on here? Hearing this is heartbreakingly sad and to cope with these thoughts alone have got to be the worst feelings in the world. I know you don't want sympathy and Lord knows people can say they feel empathetic towards you but they really can't. I think it is good that you write it down for that makes it more real and thus making it real for others to see the monstrosity of the acts upon you. From my understanding of psychological breakthroughs - the more you reveal of what is inside you the better it is to try to understand it. Reliving these memories all the time in your own head must make you feel completely alone in your misery and I pray that you will talk more to your therapist to try to understand and find out a way to better cope with them. It is crucial for your sanity. If you feel you cannot do that maybe, just maybe having him/her read this could be a viable alternative. Thank you for confiding in me. I'm sorry for the light-hearted comments to previous blogs - maybe we should do the stories by email, eh? I love you. M
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