When My Baby Inside Screamed, “Shut Up!” by guest, author Susan Salluce

When My Baby Inside Screamed, “Shut Up!”

by Susan Salluce

A few weeks ago, a fellow author friend of mine {Ed. Note: That’s me, Rachel – I shared this excerpt from my next release, Broken Pieces, on Gabe Berman’s blog} wrote a memoir on a blog titled, “A Letter To The Pedophile Next Door,” chronicling her molestation at age eleven; how it not only affected her as a young girl, but how her “world imploded” as an adult upon leaving her daughter with a babysitter. I encourage you to read her article.

I wish this was the first time that I’d heard such a story, or at the very least, one of the first. It’s not. I’ve heard hundreds. Not only am I a psychological fiction writer, author of Out of Breath, and grief specialist, but prior to that I was a sexual abuse counselor. By prior, I mean my early twenties, and carrying my first child.

Sexual abuse counselors are often the first ears to hear the graphic, frightening stories of abuse. They strive to validate the survivor’s feelings and details of abuse. Frequently, parents dismiss or outright call their children liars or accuse them of exaggerating—”Uncle Fred could NOT have done that to you. He’s my brother!” To the parent, having a family member, friend, neighbor, or priest commit such an atrocious act is simply unthinkable, and yet, who gets shut down, accused of lying, then receives no help, and left in the dark, and potentially, set up for more abuse? The child. This also allows the offender to go on to commit more crimes against children.

Whether there is disbelief, minimization, or simply a “We’ve done what we can do, but it’s over and we won’t speak of this anymore,” attitude, what I witnessed in children who were molested and in adults who were recounting their childhood traumas, was a body/mind response. Today we are learning more about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Soldiers witness horrific scenes, have to carry on while still in battle, yet, upon returning home have outbursts of crying, rage, an inability to integrate into society, and often a total breakdown. And yet, they are expected to move on, blend in, act as if they didn’t see death before their eyes, and destruction all around them. That is crazy making!

With childhood abuse, particularly sexual, how is this different? A child’s predictable, safe, rhythmical world is intrusively disrupted. Blown apart. A grenade is thrown into the playground of life—it becomes a battle scene. And yet, the child is supposed to carry on, act as if all is normal, that “Uncle Fred” didn’t come into her bed in the middle of the night, and give her that “special hug”…that “special hug” that involved the touch that hurt…that got him arrested…that made her feel dirty. Now she’s having nightmares, sometimes she wets the bed, she’s going to counseling, and Mommy is crying, and she can’t concentrate, and, and, and…this is a body/mind response that we now refer to as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

I hear people say that we live in different times, that there is more sexual abuse now. Maybe. This is my personal opinion, and I have nothing to back this up, and certainly statistics are skewed, as they are based on people reporting honestly, which I believe abuse victims do not. So, here it is: molestation has been going on for generations, but it is now more socially acceptable to talk about. What does not seem to be changing is the multi-generational pattern. If 1 in 3 girls are molested and 1 in 5 boys, why ISN’T this changing?

A number of specialists in this field believe that change isn’t happening due to the media hype around the one Amber alert case that shows up on the news now and then, placing emphasis on how dangerous a world our children live. Then, as a reaction, we talk to our kids about “stranger danger,” not wandering off, and literally putting the fear of God that our world is unsafe. This fear-based propaganda is allowing us to not deal with the real conversations that we need to have with our children. The real facts are this: most molestation happens within families, neighbors, or family friends. They are molestation of acquaintance. The “offender” capitalizes on knowing the child, getting into the child’s world through gifts, personal attention, and time spent. If this is making you feel slightly ill, and your skin crawl, it should. However, these are the sad facts.

The day I quit my job, I was in a group counseling session with six men who were in diversion from jail. They had all molested young girls. I was eight months pregnant. Somehow, I was able to keep it together. Until I didn’t. One of them, a young man, who had molested a young girl, was whining about not being able to go somewhere because of his probation. At about that time, my baby kicked, and something inside me split. Tears start building deep inside me. My face grows hot and red. I’m losing my professional objective. The veil between therapist and Mommy is growing thin…I’m effacing, metaphorically. My calm demeanor gives way, and two rooms over, someone hears my voice, as I scream, “You want to know about freedom! You took away that girl’s freedom the minute you entered her body!” Woops, probably not in the therapist’s handbook, but damn, it felt good.

One week later I quit. My boss said that my “tirade” snapped him out of his pity party.

Ten days later I gave birth to a baby boy.

I never could go back to sexual abuse counseling. All I could see were my children’s faces.

If you were molested as a child, get help. Talk with a friend, call a counselor, and get it out of your body. It’s living inside of you, and it will keep festering like an untended wound. Not every parent is available to listen—I wish that were the case, but it isn’t. Parents are limited, and hearing that you were abused can often set off their denial system, leaving you to feel re-victimized. Really, really think this over…please!

I still consider the Laura Davis’ book, The Courage to Heal, the Bible of sexual abuse recovery books.

Rachel’s story is all too common. Her ability to put her abuse into written word allows others to delve into their unfinished business, and consider why old pain is suddenly new pain. Thank you, Rachel, for letting us walk with you into the dark corner of your pain. More than that, thank you for letting us walk into the light of your healing, and for getting the help you need so that you can be a heroine for your daughter, and for future generations.

 

Thank you, Susan, for your beautiful honesty. Please leave your comments and questions below.

Follow Susan on Facebook or her website or purchase her book Out Of Breath on Amazon!

 

On a side note: If you haven’t purchased A Walk In The Snark yet, this week only it’s 99cents! I’m in the editing phase of my next book, Broken Pieces, hoping for a November release!

 

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