I got an email for one of my incest abusers. I had flashbacks of how he abused me. I was eight years old when he told me with frustration that he has not had sex in 8 years. I was seven when he told me that his ‘manly’ needs are not met. I was nine years old when my other incest abuser, his wife at the time, told me to understand his ‘manly’ needs and forced me to be comfortable to be touched by him after he attempted and succeeded to invade my physical privacy as I changed my clothes. I did not want to talk to him ever since he forced the bathroom door open to see my twin sister showering when none of us had reached puberty. We were too young and his wife enabled him. If anything, his wife was angry that I ignored her husband. His wife touched me too and did not let me change in my own room.
He said a red nail color would look sexy in me. I was eight. He said that if he was a boy my age he would have a crush on me. He said I am prettier and more attractive than all the girls in my primary school. He told me to clean my genitalia very carefully to prevent over pigmentation. Yes, as a kid, I felt sexualized. Yes, I felt obligated to be comfortable around him. I had no one to save me. I had no parents that would take me. I did not know what to do. No one believed me.
I was seven or nine years old when he asked if I ever seen a grown man’s genitalia. Obviously I said I have not. He said, “you have to see it. It looks different than a boy’s genitalia”.
I did not wake up today wishing that I face another flashbacks but here I am facing some this evening. This is depressing.
Flashback: Warden used to wear her panties while playing on her ipad all day, everyday. She said that she has so many things in her head so she needs to wind down. Thing is, she wind down all day, everyday. She would lay on her stomach in her bedroom and she would wear panties in front of me. She would order me what to do while not sending me to school though she had means to do so.
I was not in school, I was doing the chores for the apartment along with my twin sister. She forced me to be comfortable to change my clothes in front of her. She stared at me changing my clothes.
She is still around, facing no legal repercussions
As a kid, I heard some things from Warden that I would never forget. One of the things she said to me was that she forced an old man to buy her papers. Verbally insulted a poor homeless old man to buy papers from her. Did she show any remorse? No. Did she regret this? No. In fact she told me that this is how much she needed to sacrifice. Now, I was aware that she completed her masters at this point, with no student debts, no mortgages, no loans to pay so I am not quite sure why she was driving around carrying papers to be recycled.
Her father bought a car, a house and paid her education. She worked for a multinational company a decade prior to the incident. She is able to be violent towards a stranger, an innocent, homeless old man, stole his money while driving a car. What was on her head? If she did sacrifice than should not she at least attempted to find a decent job? She managed to hold a reasonably good position at a company, a desk job, a usual 9 to 5 job. Why not apply to other companies?
Sometimes I wonder if she is wanted by local police officials. Some people may believe that she is not capable of hurting strangers. I witnessed three by my own eyes before I even reached ten years old.
She physically attacked a woman who lied to her husband about the business opportunity. Her husband was rather trusting and he admits this. One afternoon, she pulled her car to the side of the road. She got out of the car, she physically attacked this woman in front of my eyes. I sat in the car and I was scared. It was horrible.
Wake up in the morning and practice piano. This is early at around 5 am.
I would eat all sorts of fruits before taking showers.
Get ready to go to the mall. Warden likes malls. She would drive us to the mall to go to starbucks at say.. 8 am. So early that there were only few stores that accept customers. A neighbor would ask why we go to the mall early morning. As ridiculous as it sounds, we had no wifi. We could have had wifi router if Warden gets one. She never did. Why? That’s a question I fail to answer. I would eat buttered croissants, 3-4 of them. It happened many times that starbucks would run out of croissants because I had to fill out my stomach while Warden browse through the internet. She’d spend hours on her laptop sitting in the corner of starbucks dine-in place.
Mall day, everyday. I would spend a whole day in the mall.
Lunch at mall. Usually Caesar salad.
Dinner can be at the mall can be at home. If at home, I will be the one who cooks.
She likes to shop. Oh how she loves perfumes. Designer brand perfumes and designer bags. This shapes my personality. I appreciate efficient shopping in the mall. Actually, I prefer to thrift.
As you can see, school was not listed above. Warden has enough means to pay my tuition but she did not. I did not enroll at a school when I was 11-12.
Children usually stop to wet the bed at the age of seven. I wet the bed until I was ten. This is very unusual since I am a girl. My bladder control during the day was perfect. Warden ridiculed me for this. She said, “If you want to pee in your dream, then you should wake up and go to the toilet”. However, in my dreams, I was not able to know that I was dreaming. My sleep would be interrupted when the sheets feel uncomfortable.
Warden sleeps beside me. I was never allowed to have my own room or sleep on my own bed. I never understood why.
Warden would treat me like a five years old. She would do baby talk with me and expected me to talk like a baby even when I was ten years old.
Wetting the bed becomes a joke during family gatherings. Some relatives know I wet the bed. I lost my confidence and I blamed myself for why this happens. Apart from wetting the bed, I had loss of appetite and suffer from stomach aches, and occasional headaches.
Warden never brought me to a psychologist, doctor, or other experts for this. She would ridicule me without giving a proper treatment. At some point, I thought being ridiculed would solve everything.
Sometimes I just want my brain to have good memories about my childhood instead of neglect and years of abuse. I would really love to wake up one day and have a fake memory of my childhood; That I was taken care of properly, that Warden did not divorce, that my biological parents were not divorcing, that I was allowed to make friends and treated for my prolonged stress in childhood.
Children can feel stress too. I am twenty-one years old and if I had to face the exact same conditions as I did in my childhood, given the current cognitive and mental abilities I have now, I would not be able to keep my sanity. It was stressful. I was stressed. Warden and her husband at the time dismissed the idea that I was stressed, simply because I was a kid. I do not wish anyone to go through what I went through.
Mrs. Warden established some rules to regulate my social life.
Here are the rules:
1. Never initiate meetings or playdates
2. Saying yes to social meetings is a sign of mental weakness
3. Have to be on perfect behaviour for a week in order to go to playdates and meetings.
4. Maximum 10 text replies (all day)
I failed to meet these rules therefore I never had a chance to socialize like other children would. I wish I can go back to my childhood and reverse it, but I can’t. I am not even able to maintain conversations with people. I’m socially awkward and anxious.
I had dreams, routines, hopes, but somehow my life was a chaos. The echoes of my hopes and dreams were not as persistent as my auditory hallucinations. I did not know who to talk to and at that time, I did not even know that this is one of the symptoms of schizophrenia. Abnormal Psychology is not a subject I learned when I was nine years old. I did not miss any classes, but I missed homeworks. My head was exhausted, and my heart carried a weight that never detaches from me. I became tired of this constant paranoia that attacks me without mercy. It stops when I sleep at night or when I nap. As soon as I gained my consciousness back, it will return to haunt me, to make me suffer for simply existing. Are our fears real? I never slept when the voices threatened me. We would like to think that reality is perceived through our senses when we are awake and fully conscious. These fears were mine. They were my reality; as real as the sound of the wind that echoes through your ears.
One day, I asked my uncle of what he would do if he had thoughts that tell him to do things. He said that it happened to him, but I cannot relate to his experience. The voice in his mind demands him to pull a hair of someone in front of him. Oh how I wish mine sounded like that. Mine threatens me to death. Mine told me to kill myself. Mine told me to jump from the third floor. Mine told me that if I look into the bird’s eye, I would die that day. Four years after the conversation, I learned that what he had was intrusive thoughts. There was something helpful that he shared to me at the time. He said that it is good to pay attention to whatever task I am doing. One thing at a time. Be aware of my diaphragm as it moves when I breathe. He told me to immerse myself to the task I have at hand. As a training process, I initiated more chores, specifically dishes. I washed the dishes with my hands and a sponge. I absorb all information I gathered from my senses. The smell of the lemon dish soap, the foaming sponge, its soft texture, the plate I just used to eat my dinner. I imagined that my toes were like roots that hold me, strong and steady. I found calm for a split second, but I felt it. When your heart is at peace, even for a split second, you would want to repeat it. For a split second, I was in my own little heaven. For a split second, my mind was befriending me. For a split second, my heart was free from the tormenting voices of terrors. I noticed not just one sound but five. My nose not only it detects one smell but three. I saw many colors, many of which came from the bubbles from the dish soap. I felt calm for another split second. Washing the dishes became my favorite chore. I always looked forward into it. Seconds became minutes. Minutes became hours and hours became days. Days become months and I have been free from these voices for 11 years.