The other little girl

  After hearing some of the things that had happen to another person by the hands of my brother, the flash backs almost hit immediately.

 I started to get to know a very dark world for a little girl I had locked away inside of me all this time.

First flash back

Laying in my room that was across from my brothers on the other end of the house from my mother and step father. My brother came into my room. I was wide awake. Scared. As he came into my room I remember feeling like it was "that time again". Almost as if it happened every night. I'm unsure of my exact age during this incident. I do know I was older then the furthest back memory I have of my brothers friend molesting me. 

As I lay there unsure, sick to my stomach, scared, worried. His hand with no hesitation was down my underwear. I laid there with my eyes tightly closed feeling his hand move and hearing him breath. The sounds of clothes wrestling. I knew he was touching himself. I just wanted him to hurry up and get out of my room. I held my sheets tight in my small hands hoping this would be the last time. Wanting so badly to scream STOP! So badly wanting to get up and run. But I didn't. I was stiff. My body was numb and I was scared. I was worried if I moved it could get worse. He could hold me down. Hurt me. 

Then just as fast as it started... it ended. He was gone. No words. Shut my door and I laid there in the dark. Silence. And as I laid there I remember choosing to pee my bed instead of getting up and chancing going to the bathroom. I didn't know if he would come back for more or hurt me thinking I was going to go tell on him. As I started to pee myself, feeling the bed under me get warm, I did not cry. I didn't feel ashamed. I was doing what I needed to, so nothing else would happen that night. I was empty inside. 

At this point I dont remember getting up to clean my self up or find someway to hide the pee or lay something down so I could comfortably go back to sleep. I don't remember confronting him the next day. Or much else after that. 

My childhood has many gaps. So much so that I vaguely remember my own mother. She was often absent it seemed. Well it seemed to the happy little girl I remember. The strong girl who pushed forward without the comfort of her mother after confronting her about being molested by her brothers friend. That's really when most of my memories of her fade.

Before the molestation, I just remember happiness and fun. The normal stuff. Playing outside, taking care of farm animals, and running free in the country. Exploring all that nature had to offer with bare feet.

That little girl was so happy to have sisters who loved her and cared for her. Sisters who played barbies with her. Sisters who cooked for her and helped her all the time.

 I remember my big sister complaining about some stuff. Like making me toast. I hope when she reads that she chuckles. I relied on her to fill the void of a mothers love. My oldest sister was my mom. I remember needing her. Even as an adult I find myself needing her in a way maybe many feel they need their mom. My oldest sister is the reason I survived my elementary age days. 

My other sister was my playmate. My best friend. I think she secretly always loved playing dolls and barbies with me. Even though she may have felt a little "to old for baby stuff." She would dress me up and do my make up. She made me feel special. 

Both of them have become my bestest friends today. They are the light in my dark past. They are who gave me normal. They were the reason I didn't let the dark take over and consume all my possibilities. 

They are my brave, my courage, and my strength. 

I love you both so much. You both will never truly understand exactly what you guys did for me. 

After a phone conversation I had with a family member, I feel I have a more open outlook on how I see my past situation. I, prior to the memories, remember a little girl who had been hurt, but was a survivor. A little girl who saw trouble, but was naive and innocent. A little girl who sensed the danger but had the will power to brave the storm. The little girl I remember being always wondered why so much was forgot but just excepted that it was what it was. I as an adult excepted I would never really know all those large missing gaps. I would always remember the fun and the good times. That little girl is what molded me into the spunky, sassy, full of life adult I had become.

Once the memories started coming back, out of the dark finally emerged the little girl who was full of fear, worry and self doubt. This little girl had been locked away with no chance to heal or move forward. This little girl is the one I want to help. This little girl needs the adult me to figure it out and give her closure so I can continue to move forward and lead as healthy of a life possible. This little girl is who molded me into the overprotecting parent I am. She is the reason behind my unknown anger. She is the reason behind my fear of the dark. My fear of making a simple trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

SHE PROTECTED THE HAPPY LITTLE GIRL. SHE PROTECTED THE ADULT ME.

Those dark memories may have been locked away but the experiences gave my soul the necessary things my body needed to continue to protect myself.

The little girl in the dark was more important to who I am today then I ever understood.

Conclusion: I feel like this post was definitely on the darker side. More open then I have been ever in my life. I'm sorry if it wasn't easy to read. I promise you it hasn't been easy to re-live. The support I have received from these blogs has warmed my heart in so many ways. Not everyone thinks this is the right way to go about this.

How does anyone know exactly what will be the right way to heal ones self? You never know until you try. I trusted my gut with this. So far, my blogs have brought tears to my eyes as people have shared their stories privately. They have also brought me a support group I never knew I needed.

Thank each and everyone of you who are still reading and following along. Your support is part of my healing process.