She informed me she had not ever listened to the tape. I asked her if she would send it to me, and she said she would. How in the hell did my Mom end up with this proof, confirmation of the trauma I had endured?
And a much bigger question came to mind after I tried to recall the events surrounding the making of this damning evidence. She had the tape all these years and never listened to it. Why not?
I spent a great deal of time trying to decide my next move once I received the cassette. I could listen to an audio event of un-recallable minutes in my past as soon as I received it, but the eeriness at the thought overtook my curiosity and Idecided against reliving the memory at that time. My gut instinct was starting to function and thank goodness I yielded against.
Bill and I discussed this very decision at my next therapy appointment. His suggestion insisted I have someone present when I listened to my own voice defending myself from this violence and trying to escape the abuse.
I dubbed the original before sliding the proof into my purse. This artifact had another destination. I patiently awaited my scheduled appointment with a civil attorney. What was my next move; what was the question before me?
Disturbing emotional feelings burst forth during our first conference. I shared my remembrances of being petrified of my parents; my shock for her believing his words and siding with him when he was sexually assaulting me. He said it would never happen again.
She gave him so many second chances.
And today, in my hand I hold the proof of my sacrifice. I haven't ever listened to the tape. Maybe one day I will recognize the strength and courage I showed when I setup the recorder and flipped it over to get even more proof of the atrocity of abuse. I was brave then, and didn't even know it.
Now is the time to take ownership of my courage!
And a much bigger question came to mind after I tried to recall the events surrounding the making of this damning evidence. She had the tape all these years and never listened to it. Why not?
I spent a great deal of time trying to decide my next move once I received the cassette. I could listen to an audio event of un-recallable minutes in my past as soon as I received it, but the eeriness at the thought overtook my curiosity and Idecided against reliving the memory at that time. My gut instinct was starting to function and thank goodness I yielded against.
Bill and I discussed this very decision at my next therapy appointment. His suggestion insisted I have someone present when I listened to my own voice defending myself from this violence and trying to escape the abuse.
I dubbed the original before sliding the proof into my purse. This artifact had another destination. I patiently awaited my scheduled appointment with a civil attorney. What was my next move; what was the question before me?
Disturbing emotional feelings burst forth during our first conference. I shared my remembrances of being petrified of my parents; my shock for her believing his words and siding with him when he was sexually assaulting me. He said it would never happen again.
She gave him so many second chances.
And today, in my hand I hold the proof of my sacrifice. I haven't ever listened to the tape. Maybe one day I will recognize the strength and courage I showed when I setup the recorder and flipped it over to get even more proof of the atrocity of abuse. I was brave then, and didn't even know it.
Now is the time to take ownership of my courage!