About four years ago, after my now ex-husband and I had completed a year and a half of couples counseling with a Christian counseling organization, I started seeing a counselor on my own. Our marriage was essentially over, but both of us continued on for a while longer, floundering forward, trying to rebuild from the ashes for the sake of our children and to keep our vows, our sacred covenant with each other. I had never gotten any sort of therapy or counseling for what had happened to me before this.
The reasons for my not receiving care are many. When I first told my parents of the years of Doc's abuse, they offered to get me help, in their own way. They wanted me to go see my pastor about it. I refused, in fact I asked them to please not tell him about it. I was ashamed and didn't trust my Pastor (rightly so). My mother offered for me to go speak to her best friend, who had a background in social work, and I refused that as well. I told them that I was ok, and that I didn't need help. They took my word for it. So, my mother sought help from a cognitive therapist for herself instead. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that she got outside support, it's just a very bizarre reaction looking back at it.
However, this was not an uncommon reaction to this sort of situation within the IFB. Keeping it hidden and allowing me to lie about how unaffected I was, was easier than facing up to the fact that I was so damaged. My Dad asked me if I wanted him to go to the police. I told him no. I told him I didn't want to hurt Doc's wife and his family. He brought it up to our Pastor despite my protestations, and our Pastor counseled them to respect my wishes and not bring charges against my abuser. He also offered to counsel me.
My Pastor was an inappropriate option for counseling, but that would be a standard and typical response within the IFB church to do. He was inappropriate for the basic glaring facts that he was a man, and he was a man with power within the church with no background in sexual abuse counseling or therapy. My mother's best friend was also not a viable option as I didn't trust that she wouldn't go to my mother with whatever I would tell her. And the other reason is that I had been brought up believing that therapists and psychologists couldn't be trusted. Depression, anxiety, mental illness, trauma, those were sin issues, not anything more. Only the most severe of disorders were seen as something to be turned over to outside mental health workers. I didn't want to be one of those nut cases.
I convinced myself, for many years, that I was fine. That I was strong, and that it was not that bad. It was only three years after all. I told myself that I could put up with the periodic nightmares, bouts with depression, anxieties, and flashbacks. I avoided triggers as much as possible. I bottled up my thoughts and feelings on the matter. I convinced myself that it could have been so much worse so I should be thankful for that. I told myself that I was only raped once, so that was not too bad (this was also a lie, but I will expound in another post). I never told my parents that I had been raped. I felt it would be too much for them to bear. This is quite common, since children frequently don't tell of the abuse or don't tell all of it in an effort to protect their parents. I told only a handful of my closest friends what had happened, and even at that I was careful with my disclosures. My pride didn't want me to be seen as a victim by anyone and I didn't wish to shock or offend or be pitied.
This is classic minimizing.
If it's not, "that bad" then it can be managed. It makes it less real, less painful. It's one of the human brain's way of protecting itself. Minimizing, dissociation, "patrolling my borders" (not allowing myself to be vulnerable or fully loved), and compartmentalizing my feelings/experiences were how I protected myself.
My counselor pointed this out to me, that I had minimized my experience to a tolerable level when she had me write out my story to her. When she read it, she told me that my story was horrifying and that she didn't know how I had remained as sane as I was and how I hadn't turned my back completely on Christianity. She asked me, "How is it that you still believe?" I told her that the alternative, that there was no God, was a concept that was even more horrific to me. That's not to say that I haven't had my doubts, my fears, and my anger towards God. I have had all of these, and occasionally still do. I am human after all.
By the time that I started seeing my counselor, my nightmares had returned and insomnia had overtaken me. The stresses of my marriage had triggered the memories back to the forefront. I had never put into words what had happened. I had never outlined the timeline, put names, circumstances, and scenery to the story of my abuse. I had never before told anyone everything. I had been silent, and I had been silenced. She wanted to help me find my voice, to help me to view my abuse as it was, not how I and others had whitewashed it to be.
If my family is reading this now, they are finding out for the first time the details of my abuse. We've never talked about it much. It isn't light dinner conversation and frankly I am better at writing it out then speaking of it anyhow. I don't bring it up, they respectfully, do not bring it up. There is nothing to be done about it at this point anyhow. What's done, is done. I enjoy a decent relationship with my family so to me there is no point picking at old wounds. My parents have already told me that they wish they had handled things differently, and that is enough for me.
The statute of limitations is long gone. Proving my allegations would be difficult now, some twenty five years later. It doesn't make them false, it just means I will never have justice for myself and anyone else that he may have hurt. The best that I can hope to do, is to use my story to educate others.
God forbid, that if your child ever comes to you and tells you that they have been abused, please get them help. Don't ask them, as minors, what you should do. Even if they are an older teen, as I was, realize that they do not have the maturity to be fully aware of the life consequences of refusing therapy and not filing a police report. I know I did not. Be a parent, be an adult, take the reins, and get them help. File a report with the police. Contact any organization that the abuser worked for and let them know that a report has been filed with the police. Then demand that the person who is being accused is kept away from children during the investigation.
Get your child a victim's advocate. Get them a licensed therapist with experience in the field. If your child needs to talk about the abuse, let them. If they aren't willing to go into specifics, don't force the issue. They can deal with those things in therapy, and like it or not, for at least a short time they may feel safer addressing the specifics with a non-relative. Don't take that personally. You are there to support them, and to advocate for them. If you show them, by your actions, that you believe them and are there for them, it will allow them to trust you and eventually confide in you. Assure them that they are not alone and that they have nothing to be ashamed of.
You can expect that there may be some changes in your child's behaviour. Perhaps they already had some of these behaviours before the reveal. Bring up any potentially damaging behaviours (drug use, alcohol, reckless sexual behaviour, bullying, skipping school, cutting, smoking, eating disorders, etc.) to their therapist. They can work with you and your child to help your child to learn better coping mechanisms for their pain. Your child may need medication in addition to therapy. This is not a sign of weakness, or a heart issue, or a sin issue. Accept the medication. They may only need it for a time, or they may need it long term.
If you go to your Pastor and he doesn't immediately make sure that you are going to the police, leave that church. Report that Pastor. A Pastor is a mandated reporter. By not alerting authorities they are breaking the law. They are required to contact children and youth within 48 hours of hearing about or witnessing child abuse. When I came forward with my abuse, it was 2 years before clergy were added to the list of those who are mandated reporters. So at that time, legally, he was not required to report it. Ethically, morally, I believe that he was. He lives with the knowledge that his silence hurt not only myself and my family, but who knows how many other children that Doc had access to over the years. As far as I know, he never notified my former Pastor in Ohio. If he did, they are both culpable.
If your child trusts you enough to come to you with what happened to them, above all, love them. Accept where they are in their journey to healing. Cry with them, be angry with them, hold them, give them space when needed. But in all things, love.
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