Sunday, February 26, 2006

invisible cloak

There are so many days I feel invisible. I can walk down the street and put on my invisible cloak and I can go undetected. Some times it feels like a wonderful skill, other days it makes me feel incredibly lonely.

I was walking down Lincoln Ave. Tripped and fell.

OUCH! My ankle turned colors, and is huge. Got to the ER only to learn I have a bad sprain. I gotta walk with crutches.

I don't like the attention. I feel like some sort of freak.
Now everyone is looking at me hobbling around. The invisible cloak isn't working.

I can't even run out to starbucks and walk back home.
I'm stuck drinking it there.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Fear of Rabbis

I read this message on the Jewish Survivors blog and it scared me.

I then read this article on rabbis, confidentiality and other ethical issues.

I would hate for things I said in confidence spread all over the internet. I'm a survivor, I have a history that I wouldn't want makde public. I could see how easily this could happen to me.

At least if I talk to my therapist I know she is licensed and bound by confidentiality. I've been reading up on rabbis, and there is no such thing.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

When a friend is suffering and or in pain

One of the hardest things for me is to know that a friend is in pain.
I want to help.
I want to be able to take away their suffering.
I just want to hold them and rock them to sleep.
I want them to know they are safe, that I'll do my best to protect them.
I guess it's my maternal instincts coming out.

Things get so complicated when you are a survivor.
You want to be helpful.
You want to be loving and caring.
You may not have had your friend's exact experiences, but you know the pain.
You know the flashbacks, you know the sadness, and loneliness that goes along with it.
You can relate on levels someone who wasn't abuse could never understand.

The problem gets complicated when your friend is male, and your are female,
Or you are male, and your friend is male.
I hate when what you may want to convey is misconstrued as something sexual.
You don't want to hurt your friend,
You just want them to know they are not alone, and that you care.

Sunday, February 19, 2006


I love driving on LSD (Lake Shore Drive).
I love watching the waves crash up against the rocks.
I love daring the waves as I drive past. I've had days where I wished they take me back with them.

I love watching the ice formations on the trees. It's a frozen wasteland.

The lake is frozen solid in some areas, but looks can be deceiving. If you look closely, the ice moves, you can't walk out on it or you will go crashing into the frigid water.

Am I talking about what I see, or am I talking about my life?


My head spins so often, trying to figure out who I can trust.
My head spins trying to figure out if I've said too much.
My head spins trying to figure out if I have healthy boundaries.

I hate having to learn about trust.
I hate knowing there are times I make the mistake of telling to much to people.
I feel like I have diarrhea of the mouth.
I think someone is caring, and will understand, and I let all the shit out.
I hate being alone.

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Will it help?

My therapist came up with an idea that I should write a letter to God. She thought that would help me feel connected. I feel really stupid doing that. I feel like I should be writing a letter to Santa Claus.

Dear Santa,
here's my wish list, and while you're at it can you explain to me why I should believe in you? Oops, I'm Jewish, gotta start that over.

Dear Moshe Claus,
Can you tell me why I should believe in you? Are you really out there?

Thursday, February 16, 2006

The Magic Hour

Every night since I was a child,
3:00 am
I would hear the foot steps come into my bedroom.
I would try as hard as I could to pretend I was asleep.
It wouldn't matter.
I would feel his touch.
I would feel his breath upon me
I knew to be silent
I knew to be "good."
4:00 am would come and I could sleep.

To this very day,
I wake up at 3:00 am
In my mind I hear his footsteps,

To this very day,
I have flashbacks of him entering my bed.

To this very day,
I hate the hours between 3:00 - 4:00 am.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Looking For God, Looking For Answers

Some days are harder then others. The other day was tough. I had a session with my therapist, and started asking why God let me be abused. I know we all have free will, but come on. This is a bit crazy for that to be the only answer.

My therapist isn't connected to anything spiritually, so she really couldn't answer. She suggested I ask a rabbi. So I started going through a phone book calling. No one seemed to have an answer for me. Most just got off the phone as quickly as possible. Not wanting to talk about incest.

I started typing in all sorts of url's. Did you know if you type in, it comes to a Christian site? I didn't think they would have the answers I was looking for, so I typed in This brought me to a web page called "".

I looked around the site a bit, and figured it was Jewish. There was a place at the top that you can talk to a rabbi on line. So I tried it. I did it a few times. The first rabbi I had only could say it's because we have free will. He couldn't think of anything else to say to me.

Another rabbi just said I'm sorry that you were abused, and said that's not a "Jewish thing to do to your children." I typed in a bit more, but he just stopped responding.

A third rabbi, just told me to start going to Tanya classes. That's when I realized the web site was connected to Chabad. I told him I didn't feel comfortable going to classes. He just said he was sorry, but that was the best he could do.

I'm frustrated, and want answers. If anyone feels they can help me understand, please do.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Just Breathe

I feel like I'm suffocating.

I can't breathe. Is it just an anniversary reaction or am I sick?

Am I having a body memory, or am I having an asthma attack?

Is my body betraying me again?

I hate having to stop to figure this out.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Surviving Abuse and the Legal System

It seems that there is a lot of pressure coming from those who have never been abused to use the legal system "to get" your offender. There are a lot of reasons why a survivor may choose not to do this. I know for myself, this is not the answer.

I never could imagine putting my father in jail. He's my dad. I love him. I don't care what he did to me. He is still my father.

If you try to put your offender in jail then your whole life story is open to the public, with your name attached. I don't know if I'd want that. I know that many survivors don't care. But for myself I do.

Early on when I started therapy I was such a mess. I would never want my psychological record made public. If I tried to sue my perpetrator I'm sure that would be entered into evidence. It's really not so simple to use the legal system.

I remember at one point I thought about suing my parents, to help me pay for counseling, but after doing research on the topic I decided I couldn't do that.

Below are some helpful links if someone else would be interested in learning what I did

  1. Legal Resources for Victims of Sexual Abuse - by Susan K. Smith
  2. Civil Compensation Claims By Adult Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse - by Chester Fairley
  3. Shifting the Burden of Truth: Suing Child Abusers - Joseph and Kimberly Crnuch
  4. Sexual Abuse and Molestation in Illinois
  5. Help For Victims - US Dept. of Justice

Wednesday, February 08, 2006


I remember growing up my mother would play this old song over and over again.

Was she trying to remind me what was expected of me. No matter what happened in our home I was supposed to look and sound like everyone else? Am I made of tickytacky?

Little Boxes

by Malvina Reynolds

Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of tickytacky
Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes all the same
There's a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses all went to the university
Where they were put in boxes and they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and there's lawyers, and business executives
And they're all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course and drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children and the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp and then to the university
Where they are put in boxes and they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business and marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.

I'll Love You If . . .

What does it mean when your parents say "I love you"?

I was always confused by these words. People always talk about unconditional love. I have no idea what that is.

For me love always meant that something was wanted from me.

I'll love you only if you listen.
I'll love you only if you do what I tell you to do.
I'll love you only if you do well in school.
I'll love you only if you hang out with the "right" crowd.
I'll love you only if you look pretty.
I'll love you only if you make me feel good.

Can someone explain to me what unconditional love is?

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Happy Birthday To Me

My birthday is this month. I always try to do what I can to celebrate that I'm alive, that I survived my childhood. It's a reminder to me that what happened to me is in the past, and that I have my whole future ahead of me.

Believe me there are days it's hard to believe that I have a future. I still have flashbacks, and have to fight my depression. I hang out with my friends who are not survivors. They mostly come from loving families.

They never had the nickname of "my little slut." It was a term of endearment I heard often from my father after he tucked me into bed at night after an assault.

I have a future. I no longer need to be afraid.