Since I started dealing with csa a few months ago, things have really been falling into place. I'm nowhere near out of the woods yet, but things are definitely happening. I'd like to share one part of it here.
I was lying in bed in a sort of meditative state a few weeks ago when my mind drifted back to the neighborhood where I grew up (and the abuse happened.) The whole thing played out like a movie in my head, and it was so real I woke up crying. This turned to joy when I realized what it actually meant.
I decided to "visit" my old neighborhood in this near-sleeping state. However, this time I did it as an adult, and the neighborhood had not changed at all in the 35+ years since we moved.
I pulled up in front of my house. It was empty. We were the last people to live there. I got out of my truck, shaking. I walked up the driveway, past the tree I used to play under, and up to the front door. It was unlocked. I went in, and there was no furniture but everything else was as we left it.
I walked through the living room and dining room, then into my bedroom (where some of the molestation occurred.) I passed the bathroom outside my door where I so often went to throw up. Then down the hall, past my sister's room, and further to my parents' bedroom. Here I recalled other things I won't disclose here. By now, in my "dream," I was shaking and crying.
I went out to the backyard, to the site of the old two-story fort where the bulk of the molestation happened. It was gone now, but not the memories. I had to remind myself repeatedly that I'm a big strong adult now and that the people who hurt me are long gone.
I went out the front door, looked at the house of the older boy who molested me, and walked down the street toward the house of the other boy who terrorized me from 1st through 6th grade. I was still shaking. My mother used to send me past his house on my bike to a neighborhood store. I passed his house on the other side of the street.
I walked to the store and then over to a burger stand, which had also not changed since childhood (it's gone now.) I had a burger and fries, still afraid (even as an adult) that the boy who bullied me would come in any minute.
When I walked back to my house, I had an urge to go back in. This time, I walked down the hall to a closet and opened the door. There was a large cardboard box inside which had not been opened in decades. I broke the seal and raised the flaps.
Inside was an enormous jumble of black glass objects that looked like wine bottles. They were covered in dust and not labeled, but I knew what they were. As I picked up each one, it evaporated into black smoke and absorbed into my body through my chest.
The first one was my childhood. The second was my innocence. The third was my right to a childhood free of terror, betrayal, shame, guilt and molestation. The fourth was all the love I missed from my parents. The fifth was everything I missed from hiding in my room from my parents, sister, the neighborhood bully/terrorist, and my perp. I have no idea how many bottles I pulled out, but it seemed endless. It just went on and on.
As I picked up each item and it absorbed into me, all I could do was cry harder. But I noticed I was no longer shaking.
When I eventually finished and the box was empty, I gently removed it and brought it out to the curb for disposal. There was everything I thought I had lost, stored carefully inside that box for years on end, waiting for me to come back and reclaim it....
I took another walk around the neighborhood, but I was no longer afraid. Nothing could hurt me now. I was still crying (and am doing so as I relate this,) but I wasn't shaking any more. I finished my business there, got into my truck, and drove away.
When I "came to" from this, I was sobbing. But I knew what an incredible milestone it was-- I had never even imagined taking this sort of journey before, and certainly not into such dangerous territory as that neighborhood. I knew then that I would recover from all this and reclaim who I knew I really was. I still can't see the little boy who lived there (he is still blocked, but he will come out and meet me when he is ready) but I can see traces of him in the man I am now.
I hope all who read this find healing in their own place.
Never worry about "three steps forward and two steps back." Thirty steps forward and twenty back are still ten steps in the right direction.