Miriam writes about her healing journey. Something bad happened to her in her past. Her counselor has suggested that she write an angry letter to the person but of course not to mail it to them. She went a step beyond.
I wrote the letter trying to be angry. I am sort of numb. I am tired. It is hard to express what I feel. I wrote “how dare you” and “I hate you”. It wasn’t soothing or releasing to write the letter. Apparently I should write this letter later on too. As I progress and heal. But I am too numb now for this to have any benefit.
I went a step further. I phoned the police. I explained that I had been raped over 50 years ago and that my baby sitter had given me sleeping pills. I explained that I was worried that there had been other victims and that he had done this to others. The policeman kindly checked the system and there was nothing. Only a speeding ticket. He said that if there had been any incidents it would have been reported. I was relieved. He also said to continue on with my counseling. That it would help.
I actually talked to someone else about my being raped. Physically. So a door is now ajar in my healing. I am able to talk about it physically more easily. The door is ajar.
In my memories though there is still a wall. There is no door or window, merely a crack. The wall is so thick that I can’t bear thinking about it. I block it out. I thought that I would have to remember it all. My counselor said that no, I had experienced it once and there was no need to remember it unless I wanted to get compensated. I am really more concerned whether he did it to others than to get compensated. I don’t want anything to do with him!
So I have calmed down a bit. Looked at emails. Distracted myself. I have my candle burning representing the innocence lost. I will have my cup of tea…the healing tea. I look outside and see a nesting bird. And a goldfinch. There is life in spring. A rebirth. A new beginning…
Heal, my friend, heal. Slowly I will heal.