Incest
I always knew something was wrong at my house, I just didn’t know what. Our family looked happy --- orderly and functional --- from the outside. People told me I was "lucky" to have such a thoughtful and caring mother, but the more they said it, the angrier I got.
She abused me physically, emotionally and sexually. The sexual and physical abuse began as early as age two and continued into my teens. The emotional abuse has been ongoing. Also, an uncle abused me from ages three through seventeen.
As amazing as it sounds, until recently my memories of this abuse were completely suppressed. I was always puzzled by the rage I felt toward my mother and uncle. My dad became ill and died, and the pain I experienced, couple with the strained relationship with my mother, was so great that I could no longer avoid the repeated suggestion that I seek counseling. Early in therapy, I was asked if I had ever been sexually abused. I recalled being molested once by my uncle, but denied any other abuse. As I allowed myself to remember the "one incident" the flood of painful memories began.
During my childhood, I developed elaborate skills to help survive. When my uncle fondled me my mind went blank; when he rubbed me against his aroused body my mind traveled to other rooms and places. Sometimes I chanted silently, "this is not happening." My denial had begun. I practiced standing motionless and thoughtless. I taught myself not to feel, cry or trust. I placed these traumatic and painful events in "a box", walked the box up to an imaginary attic and placed it on a shelf. I got a sense of relief . . . "God, I’m glad that’s over with." This was my method of dealing with life: deny the problem. Pack it away in a box. A clever technique for a child, but a dysfunctional approach to life as an adult.
My mother also refused to respect my physical and emotional boundaries. Reasons for my punishment were rationalizations for her exploitation. I don’t know why she abused me, only that she did and how it felt. I’m still learning how it affected me.
Her abuse was varied and often advanced under the guise of "medical treatment" or "education." She forced me to take repeated enemas on a daily basis. My bottom was chronically raw and cracked. It was not uncommon for her to explore my rectum. I was directed to take baths with her for years. When I protested, she used water conservation as a rationale. When I said I would bathe alone in dirty water after she was done, she said it would be too cold. Once I was in the tub she made me touch and hold her breasts. Whenever I said no, she filled my mouth with liquid dish soap and forced me to choke on it. Naturally, I complied.
First I tried to hide my feelings; then I tried to ignore them. Eventually, I took any necessary measure to anesthetize my self-hatred and shame. My goal was simple: avoid pain through denial of feelings. As the emotional pain increased so did the "self-help" remedies. I first experimented with drugs at age 12 and almost immediately became addicted to codeine cough syrup. I was able to quit on my own, vowing "never again" to take drugs. By my teens, I was suffering from regular migraine headaches, which resulted in a ready supply of narcotics --- a welcome addition to the increasingly difficult task of killing my pain.
I spent most of my adolescence and early twenties depressed and suicidal. I devoted hours to planning my demise. Thanks to a support group, I have now been in recovery for alcoholism for several years. However, quitting active addiction did not erase either the past of the dysfunctional behavior patterns. I would love the luxury of denial, but it is one I cannot afford. (You can only stuff in feelings for so long before you start to rip at the seams.)
I have received Lawyers’ Assistance Program (LAP) counseling. The services are totally confidential, which is an absolute requirement for me. I am truly grateful. I also attend an incest survivors group and a group for adults who were raised in dysfunctional families.
I am blessed with a strong will to live and a desire to heal. Today, I choose to confront my past and to be less secretive. Recovery from incest is painful and unpredictable. However, the rewards of knowing why I have been so distressed and the hope of a freer life make it all worthwhile. I am no longer living in isolation and secrecy.
If you or another lawyer you know has a similar problem, please call LAP at (206) 727-8268.
Originally published in the Washington State Bar News, July 1989.
