The Truth: Sexual abuse and mental illness.
I draw the line with me.
Most people in my life think they know me. They think that they know my story and that they understand why I am the person I am. I've always just gone with that. After all, how could anyone comprehend the truth. Before last year no body knew. I thought I'd carry this to my grave. That one day when/if I got married and have kids not even my family would know. That plan went out the window around easter last year. By this point I was 17 years old and incredibly talented at saying "I'm okay." or "I'm good, thank you."
A year ago, I finally admitted I wasn't. I did something that even right this second as I write this, I'm trying to dance around. I told my best friend that I was sexually abused repeatedly from the age of 5 to at least 8 by my grandfather. Before this no body else had ever known. Not my parents, not my friends, no one. I even had trouble admitting it to myself. After all the eating disorders, the depression and anxiety you would have thought I would have developed a think skin by then but it wasn't until I was in year 12 that little things would set me off. For instance a week after I told my best friend I had a break down because one of my close male friends gave me a friendly hello hug. He hugged me I smiled walked into another room and began to ball my eyes out and curl up in a mess on the floor. This is when my best friends mother found me. I felt like I was drowning. The whole reason I had even told my bestie was because I got to the point where just little things would trigger me. It took me a week to tell her. I would begin to bring it up in conversation and never make it. I was screaming inside and terrified. How do I say this? Maybe I shouldn't tell her. I'll be fine. I always end up okay. Maybe I'll tell her later... Was the result of every failed attempt I made to feel less alone. I sure as hell didn't want to tell her. Why would anyone want to tell someone something so horrible. I didn't know how she'd react. I even had the absurd thought that she wouldn't want to be my friend any more. That I would be too hard to be around. A problem. I want every single one of you reading this to know that the complete opposite happened. The second I told her the truth I was no longer alone. She was there for me in more ways then I could have ever imagined. She didn't look at me as strange as I had imagined. All she wanted to do was help me.
Even though I had taken the what seemed to be the insurmountable step of telling somebody I was still struggling and now found my self trying to explain to my best friends mother why I was crying. I didn't plan on telling her and was just so scared. But somewhere inside me I found the strength to tell her an hour or so after she had found me still crying. Again I found my self over whelmed by the support and comfort I was given during one of the worst moments of my life. I didn't know it then but I was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Something I still struggle with now only I'm getting better at living everyday. It was what summed up every label I was ever given by a phycologist. All whom I had never told about the very bad thing that happened to me when I was little.
With yet another massive break down I promised myself and my best friends mother that I would tell my mother. I didn't know how I would. In fact I don't even remember how I did. All I know was I was in the car and the most timid I had ever been in my life. I didn't want to tell my father at all. I knew it would break his heart. I mean how could it not. But I let mum tell him like I had a choice in the matter and surely enough it did break his heart. Which I guess at the end of the day was what I was afraid of most. As I'm sure you can imagine it shook my family even through to till today.
The reason I'm writing this is because I now know that I'm not alone. In fact I'm far from it. The number of people who have been there for me in ways that can only be compared to moving mountains is unlike anything I ever thought possible. I want anyone who has ever gone through or has ever felt the way I did to know that you are not alone. I wish I had someone to tell me that a little earlier. I wouldn't know where I'd be or if I'd be at all if I didn't tell someone. And even though it was hard it slowly but surely gets easier. I'm getting better.
What happened to me was not okay and it needs to stop happening to anyone. I'm speaking out because it needs to be stopped and I draw the line with me.
If you have been through sexual abuse or are suffering from a mental illness, I can not encourage you more to talk to someone. Running from the truth will not make it go away. You are not alone. If you ever want to talk to anyone please do. Even feel free to talk to me.
If you need to talk please contact Kids Help Line:
1800 55 1800
https://kidshelpline.com.au
or
Lifeline Australia
13 11 14
https://www.lifeline.org.au
Love you all,
Betharina.