Endless confusion

I want it all to be clear. It’s hard for me to accept it won’t ever be. It’s always slippery, muddy, unreal. Did I wear the brown or the red coat when my father abused me in the car? Not sure. Was it when he dropped me off or when he picked me up? Don’t remember. Did mom know? Did she see it in the door crack, or was it grandma passing by? Can’t figure it out, see only a flash of the female face. And every morning – did I make it all up or did it really happen? Could it be that my brain is playing tricks on me? Could it be that I had an angry violent father, he hit me and yelled at me, but he certainly didn’t do any other things to me? And every evening – yes, he did, all details of my life make sense now, everything falls into place - my body reminds me with its pains and aches. The next morning it repeats again – did it really happen? Am I in some La-La-Land? Fathers don’t rape 5 year old girls, how can they? How can they even imagine such a thing? How did it happen to me? I am both terrified and curious as to how exactly it happened – I wish I could see it all filmed in a movie, with 20 people as witnesses, each confirming every single detail, so that I won’t have any more doubts. At the same time, if there ever was a movie like that, I would never be able to watch it.

Every day I need proof, and when my body gives it to me, I shy away from it. I don’t want it, even though I asked. I’m still not accepting fully what happened to me. Today in cranio-sacral therapy a lot of pain came out of my body, and today my right hip hurts so bad I want to scream. I’m holding off from swallowing pain killers – I know this will only block the pain, it won’t let it all out. I know I have to breathe through it, because I haven’t remembered the worst yet – did he injure my hip? Is that why one of my legs is 1 inch shorter than the other? There are many reasons why this can be, but I keep coming back to the feeling I have about it – that somehow my father put his hand to it. Even as I type now, the pain intensified – I’m listening to you, I promise. This time, I am hearing you. I have an image of the boiled chicken in my mind, with its leg being twisted out with a pop. I will have to draw this tonight in my art therapy session - I am terrified of doing it, as always. My bladder regressed after the backpacking trip – it was the first time when I wore the 1 inch sole insert into my hiking shoes, so that my hips can realign. They did, and the old trauma came out as a result. I have to run pee again every hour or even 30 minutes (after every 3 hours last week). I have remembered why my left shoulder hurt – I had to masturbate my granfather, I have remembered most of other pains – but this one, the hip pain, the pain that didn’t let me walk 5 years ago, that caused me to go to physical therapy for 3 years without any results, that is only now giving way after 1 year of therapy and several months of chiropractic work – do I really want to remember what caused it? I don’t, but I also know that without remembering, I won’t ever get rid of it.

I know I won’t remember it clearly, it will come in bits, strange at first – not seemingly connected – like this image of the boiled chicken. But it will come.

Will the confusion ever end? I don’t know, I do know that the denial mechanism that kept me functioning is very strong. It survived in my mind for more than 20 years, it won’t give way in mere months. It is extremely frustrating, yet I learned to be humble and trust myself, my feelings, my body. When I trust it, it gives me the answer – bit by bit, day by day. Maybe it won’t be endless, maybe it will end one day. I hope it will.