Help
Donna Mae DePola - Guest Speaker Chat ...May 25th 2013 ... for more information please read this!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
Welcome to Pandora's Aquarium, a rape, sexual assault, and sexual abuse survivor message board and chat room.
If you've been a victim of any type of sexual violence, you belong here. What you see below represents just a fraction of the resources and survivor support available. Register now to join our community and take full advantage of what this online support group has to offer you as you heal and recover, or sign in to remove this message.
You are not alone, we can support you as you heal, and you've made an important step toward recovery by reaching out. If you are unable to register or have any questions, please contact the staff or view our home page.
I have no friends. No, really - I don't. I'm not too busy with work or family, my friends don't exist as 'mates' or casual 'acquaintances'. I just have no friends. I am 35.
I don't expect you to understand.
I dimly recall being very young - 5, 6, maybe 7 years old - and so desperately wanting to reach out and connect. I remember not quite understanding how to go about it. My mother tells me that I was outgoing, friendly, keen to fit it, to please. I don't doubt her but I can't say that I have a memory of ever being that person. I am glad I don't remember - it saves me having to grieve over that little girl.
During the CSA, and ever since, I have felt the process of bonding on any level impossible. For a long time I felt vile - no, I knew it. I was inferior, and weak, and desperate - desperate to be accepted, to be excused, to be fixed. Every day was spent physically heartbroken, constantly hyper-alert, and always cowering, ready to run. Inevitably my terror turned to anger, and I spent many, many years consumed by a combination of blind, frantic hope and seething fury. I look back and think - where was the line drawn - when did it become too late?
I don't expect you to understand.
I dimly recall being very young - 5, 6, maybe 7 years old - and so desperately wanting to reach out and connect. I remember not quite understanding how to go about it. My mother tells me that I was outgoing, friendly, keen to fit it, to please. I don't doubt her but I can't say that I have a memory of ever being that person. I am glad I don't remember - it saves me having to grieve over that little girl.
During the CSA, and ever since, I have felt the process of bonding on any level impossible. For a long time I felt vile - no, I knew it. I was inferior, and weak, and desperate - desperate to be accepted, to be excused, to be fixed. Every day was spent physically heartbroken, constantly hyper-alert, and always cowering, ready to run. Inevitably my terror turned to anger, and I spent many, many years consumed by a combination of blind, frantic hope and seething fury. I look back and think - where was the line drawn - when did it become too late?
Share This Entry:
