For some reason, I seem to uncover more pieces of my story on Saturday nights. A friend pointed out that the ritual abuse likely happened on Saturday nights, so that might be the connection.
Last night, I knew that I had more memories to release. I was in front of the bonfire again at the 6 o’clock position, and my sister was at her usual 8 o’clock or 9 o’clock position. I realized that I have never – not in all of my flashbacks to date – seen anything at 3 o’clock. So, I forced myself to look through the darkness and saw my mother.
My adult reaction was that it made sense. My child reaction was both anger and deep grief at the betrayal. My own mother was there watching as I was gang raped, photographed, etc., and did nothing.
It gets worse…
I don’t think I have shared that my mother/abuser has always been obsessed with animals. We bought a large plot of land (well over 100 acres), and she had a ton of animals – 7 or 8 dogs, multiple cats, chickens, horses, cows, a goat, etc. The animals always came first to her. If we were low on food, a trip to the grocery store was not a priority unless and until she got low on dog food. Once she needed dog food, we knew that she would buy more food for us.
The one memory I have of the ritual abuse in which my mother did not pull me out of bed, drive me there, and then drive me home was the time they killed my dog. This was an unwanted puppy from a stray dog my mother took in who was already pregnant. The plan was to adopt out all of the puppies, but I begged to keep one puppy – H. She was my dog, and I loved her dearly. That was the dog that my abusers killed in front of me. That was the only time that S & L (my most sadistic abusers) took my sister and me camping with my dog, so they had access to us and the dog without my mother around.
The reason they wouldn’t want my mother around is that she might have intervened for the dog – the unwanted dog. She would sit there and watch (never participated) as my sister and I were gang-raped, photographed, and tortured, and do nothing. She could be trusted not to intervene for me – her own child – but could not be trusted not to intervene for an “unwanted” dog.
To the adult me, all of this is in perfect character with my mother. To the wounded child inside, I feel so amazingly betrayed and valueless in her eyes. I want to kick and scream, and I want to shed a flood of tears. Of course, hub and child are home today, so I can’t do that … so I am writing it all out here.
Photo credit: Hekatekris
Blooming Lotus 
listening to you.
Faith,
I understand what you are feeling right now. I have been suffering nightmares all my life, and this week they have been intense.
I am angry at my father’s abuse of me and my siblings… but I also have love for him. I actually hate my mother because she stood by and allowed it to happen. In fact, although my father admits to the abuse (not the sexual abuse, but the beatings, starvation, etc.) my mother will not even acknowledge that it happened. she says it must have happened when she wasn’t there. Yet, I have some memories of her standing there.
And, the deal with the animals… I hated her for buying a $600 dog when we had nothing to eat… for spending more time grooming him than talking to us… oh, and we had the added benefit of having to clean up the poop from all the animals she brought into our home. Not to mention the fleas. I would wake up every morning with tens of flea bites all over my body… they were in my hair too.
I cannot understand how she could love her animals so much, but feel no compassion toward her own children. How she could stand by as we were kicked, beaten, spit on, and never come to our rescue. She has tried to tell me that she was a victim too, but never once did I see my father hit her.
Today, I am feeling absolutely alone. I too want to kick, scream, etc. , even if its just into my pillow, but I have to be a good mom and take care of my own children today. How do I do that when I feel like I am about to explode?
Faith,
I hope you will kick and scream when it becomes appropriate to do so (when everyone is away).
I am sorry you had to suffer this way as a child….it is not right.
I too had a dog brutally murdered in front of me as a young child to keep me quiet….I will never forget the terror, anguish, and deep, deep sorrow I felt. It is time to kick, scream, and cry!
Hope you can get through this long weekend and have the opportunity to express yourself on Tuesday.
I’m just so sorry.
I’m sorry, beyond words, I’m so sorry.
Thinking of you Faith. Sending you strength and tender hugs.
I had to read your story 2 times before it sunk in and I am sat here in tears. If I were there right now I would instinctivley want to hold you and cry with you. Your story has really touched me & I admire your bravery for sharing this with us.
I am so sorry Faith.
It is so hard to find the words to say I experienced similar things. On the surface it is similar, to write that so seems so piety. It is not the same at all other than horrible.
It is such a dichotomy to find relief in knowing this did not only happen to me and the horror that it happened more than once and to other people. Knowing all the while there are many who have experienced that are not dissimilar.
Good work on processing this I am proud of you.
The story of your dog being killed I was never even able to finish reading. How completely horrible that you had to go through such brutality. I understand the need to cry and scream and just having to go on as normal. We grew up doing that and got good at it. I am praying for you as you process through the deep excruciating pain. My heart goes out to you. Sending lots of empathy your way… 😦
No words, just love for you and your sister.
Peace,
m
Thank you for all of the support, everyone!
What’s interesting is that many of your responses (including my offline friend’s response) are so much more emotional than my own. I spent some time yesterday writing blog entries for this week that tie together grieving your past with talking about what happened and opening yourself up to receiving care from others. I talk about how I learned self-compassion through observing the compassion offered by others.
I am experiencing this today as I read your comments. It is like the mirror I look into says that my mother being there isn’t that big of a deal. Then, I look to all of you for the mirror, and it validates the little girl inside who just wants to cry and cry. None of you are reacting like this wasn’t a big deal. If you told me the same story, I would go on and on about the deep betrayal, but it is so hard to find that same level of support and compassion for myself. Your responses are so validating — that this wasn’t okay and that the betrayal is deep.
My offline friend said that she thinks this memory is a HUGE part of my healing, and I didn’t really see it. I am starting to see it more from reading your responses. It is so much easier for me to be logical about it: Of course she was there… She drove me to the rural location and back… Where else would she be? Honoring the emotions of the betrayal is so much harder to do.
The pain doesn’t seem excruciating because I am not letting myself feel it, and I need to let it out.
– Faith
I am sick to my stomach after reading this. I’m so sorry that your mother was a part of it all.
I can’t really comment too much right now–I am too in too much of a dark place myself. I hope you are feeling better!
I’m so sorry 😦 Words are inadequate.
The story about your dog is always one that depresses me. It really is digusting that these people would do such a thing just to make you more afraid of them. It’s a scary thing that these types walk among us, undetected and never get caught or punished for their crimes.
Hi, Hekate.
I hope using your picture of a dog doesn’t bother you in this context. I try to be respectful of which of your pictures I use. For example, I love the pictures of the last moments with your beloved dog, so I would not use those on my blog in this context.
Thank you again for letting me use your pictures on my blog. You are an amazingly talented photographer, and I feel so much emotions in your pictures. I am waiting to use the creepy basement one for a really disturbing blog post. That picture is somewhat triggering for me because I suffered a lot of abuse in basements. That picture does a great job capturing how scary a basement can be.
– Faith
No faith it does bother me at all. I like going to your blog and seeing what photo you used for the day.
I guess I’m just a bleeding heart when it comes to animals. It for some reason bothers me more when people hurt them (and children) then it does when they hurt grown adults. I think its because I see animals and children as innocent and less able to fight back. Usually, people who hurt innocent creatures that can’t fight back do it because they enjoy hurting others, which is really scary.
Yes, that basement was super creepy! I think the house was really old. I had strange feelings about it, like something bad happened there.
I’m sorry! I meant DOESNT. Lol.
Faith,
As I read what you wrote and then what you said about others reactions vs. your reaction I am overwhelmed with memories of my own dog being killed and my mothers reaction to it. Your words of “I cannot understand how she could love her animals so much, but feel no compassion toward her own children. How she could stand by as we were kicked, beaten, spit on, and never come to our rescue.”
just blows me away. It gives me a new perspective with the responses everyone has given.
We are speechless.
Chris & CJ
Do you have the ability to feel empathy for the dog who was killed or do you only feel betrayal when you have this memory?
Hi, Nancy.
Before recovering the memory, seeing a picture of myself with the dog made me physically ill. When I first recovered the memory, I mostly felt terror and horror. I even vomited.
There is more to the story. My abusers told me that either my sister or a substitute would die that night, and it was my choice. Of course, I said, “Anyone but my sister.” Then, they brought out my dog and told me that I had “chosen” my dog’s death. I became so physically ill that I vomited. I had eaten seafood for dinner and, to this day, cannot eat seafood.
So, I would say that, at first, I mostly felt terror, horror, and guilt. Later, I felt the intense need to cry but couldn’t. I worked very hard to get out one tear, and that one tear brought an enormous amount of relief.
Later, I chose to connect Leona Lewis’ song “Better in Time” to my feelings about my dog:
http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/leona_lewis/better_in_time.html
I especially related to this part:
“Thought I couldn’t live without you
It’s gonna hurt when it heals too
It’ll all get better in time
Even though I really love you
I’m gonna smile cause I deserve to
It’ll all get better in time
Since there’s no more you and me
It’s time I let you go
So I can be free
And live my life how it should be
No matter how hard it is I’ll be fine without you
Yes I will”
I listened to this song over and over and bawled my eyes out. After this, it was much, much easier for me to talk about it.
– Faith
I’m sorry this horrible situation happened. It just shows that when we hear about people being cruel to animals it’s a signifier that they will hurt humans too.
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