Fiona's Story

Okay, here goes >deep breath< this is my first public telling. I was abused by a family member, sexually, and I was probably only 18 months old when it started. Want to know how I discovered it? When my son was 18 months or so, I started having panic attacks and was medicated but never asked why. When I got pregnant with my daughter only a few years ago, I went off my medication and felt great! I thought, wow, I'm cured! I was grieving the loss of our first baby (lost to us at three days old before our son was born, as you'd guess from my calling her our 'first' baby..) and that's all my problem was! Well, long story short, baby daughter is born, turns 18 months old and I start watching my husband like a hawk. He's a very good man; I couldn't understand why I was watching him. Then other clues started popping up: when my children cry, I hold them and say..."You're safe." You're safe! Of course they're safe! Other people (read: normal, healthy) comfort by saying "It's o! kay - I'm here - let it all out." I was simply saying what I wanted to hear. Then I had a panic attack out of the blue. One morning I woke up and I remembered being a little girl, lying in my bed, door shut, crying my eyes out, my night light all blurry through my tears. And I knew.

I ran downstairs to my computer and jumped online, searching for results for "incest". What I found was someone's home page (wish I could find it again) that listed adult symptoms of child sexual abuse victims. I printed it out. I met every - single - one. I called the sex abuse hotline at the bottom of the page and the operator referred me to my therapist. So I called my therapist, it was 7 o'clock in the morning, and God Bless her, she immediately called me back. In the process of her trying to reach me, however, I had also called my husband who works nights. I told him everything and asked him to come right home. I have no recollection of what he said, I know he said whatever I needed to hear. My next memory is of being huddled in my bed, covered in my favorite comforter, my daughter running playing nearby, my son stretched on the end of the bed watching "Arthur." My husband came in, concern etched all over his handsome face, and sat and rubbed my lower leg while I finall! y talked to my therapist. She calmly asked what made me think I'd been sexually abused and I told her, my voice shaking so, so desperately I don't know how she understood me. She set an appointment up for me a few hours away and gave me precious advice: "You're safe. Remember you're safe, do whatever you have to do to feel safe until you get here."

The funniest part is both my husband, my ex-husband and previous therapists have asked me if I was ever sexually abused, and I laughed. Me? No, of course not! Silly! Physically, yes. Mentally, yes. Sexually? No, not me! I've always felt as if I've been running from something, some big secret that spelled out I was bad. Once this came out, and I got over the shock of it, I realized I was running from a secret that wasn't mine to keep. It was mine to give away. I hadn't asked for the abuse, I hadn't done anything to cause it (and that takes a lot for me to say, since I'm the first to lay guilt in my own lap) and it was not my fault. It was time to let it go and heal. This huge burden was lifted from my shoulders. Knowing others are out there also takes away my worst feeling - being isolated.

The best thing I ever read was in "Courage to Heal": About how living through the abuse is the hardest part, and how we've survived it. And we are strong.

Thanks for listening,
Fiona Also has a Website.