When you hear the hoof beats of a nightmare in your sleep, the heart palpitations match the rhythm.
When Nightmare Fabric was born, the phrase echoing in the background was:
Merely because I have not dreamt it does not mean it does not come to fruition.”
Let’s talk of the things no one dreams for themselves or others.
During a routine downtime/volunteer (recess) lesson, Little V mispronounced the name of male genitalia. The Grammar Nazi instantly supplied the correct pronunciation and listened intently to the remainder of the identification of anatomical human parts. At its conclusion, she asked the meaning of “penis”. Its urinary function was proclaimed.
The next sentence bore fear, fury and frustration, though none came from its speaker.
“So that is what Man’s pee-sprayer thingy is.”
Pause for one heart to stop.
“Have you seen Man’s penis?”
“Yes, Momma.”
“When did you see Man’s penis?”
This is where the story could have stopped, and the world could have remained intact. It did not.
She has a hard time with questions, especially questions about time and “why” questions. She said, “I am not supposed to tell.” The heartbeat returned, now racing.
For the third time, “When did you see Man’s penis?”
Her next actions were indicative of revealing a secret. Finally, she said, “Man wants me to suck it and suck it all the time.” Heartbeat freezes. “I told him I was not a grown up lady. I don’t want to marry Man.”
“I don’t want you to marry Man, either.” With a warm smile, soft body language and no reproof, “Take your brother into your room and play. Thank you. I love you.” They complied.
Karma
There is a dire backlash for those who abuse children. There is a far more destructive backlash for those who abuse handicapped children.
No, the American justice system is not the backlash of which I speak. Neither is physical harm I may daydream for the perpetrator, someone once trusted. Neither still is the lake of fire, for one must believe in such to see it as justice.
In due course, the abuser becomes the abused in the befitting manner.
Until such time, my heart beats softly. Only in love can I begin to heal the hurt caused by someone else. In the end, it is my sole profession. I am Momma.
Mistake?
Do not mistake the calm demeanor as anything beyond my being nonplussed[1] over an act I find egregious to the point of being unforgivable. Before you cast the stone with the note attached Forgiveness is for the forgiver, stop. Read. (Both parts.)
In the nanoseconds following her admission, the topic was appropriately reported and then curtailed until it could be explored in the presence of a licensed professional. Very few have that level of forethought. After far too many years in the legal field, I am all amply acquainted with the steps in a criminal investigation of sexual molestation of juveniles. The investigation is often more painful than the act itself. Ours has already revealed more than she did that day in January.
The range of emotion fluttering just between the heartbeats is broader than the horizon. At the moment, anger is edging sadness only by a nose.
The posts which follow will take M3 back to its psychological roots. The intent is to shake the tree below the foundation, knock off the dust and manure, bare the gnarls for what they truly are. Ask the questions, especially if you do not know the answers. Piece by piece, we are going to discuss it all from the cradle to the grave.
Buckle up, Buttercup.
I will ever remain,
[1] The definition of nonplussed may not be what you think it is. Compliments of Merriam-Webster.
At this place, I normally ask questions. The level to which I am gobsmacked leads me to have no questions beyond commiseration for appropriate retribution. The floor is yours.
Hashtags: #sexualabuse #autism
Thank you for sharing The M3 Blog with hashtags.
Molly
/ May 13, 2014What the FLYING FUCK!
Molly
/ May 13, 2014A red hot knife, salt and vinegar, angry red ants, plastic tube, fire starting implement.
Show me the SOB.
Red
/ May 13, 2014I love you, too, Mo.
Binky
/ May 13, 2014Hopefully you can get to the bottom of it soon, and hopefully it did not go any further than that, though that’s bad enough.
Binky recently posted..Embracing Nature
Red
/ May 13, 2014More on this later. Promise.
gigoid
/ May 13, 2014Mankind has come up with some vicious ways to mutilate, maim, and kill over the centuries, but, only the worst are reserved for those who abuse children, especially sexually…. Public impalement comes immediately to mind, as it has been used for centuries as a slow, excruciating death… The Apache had some inventive methods of torture that might serve; The Thousand Cuts; being tied upside down over a fire; having the whole body’s skin flailed, then peeled, then left on an anthill while still living….
If I had found out anyone had touched my daughter, or even talked to her in such a way, I might have yielded to the impulse to kill… It is one of the few things that could make me make that decision….
I can’t say I enjoyed the post, but, I look forward with interest to the remaining parts of the story…. though I may have to have extra medication on hand, to counteract the adrenaline rush such as I am now fighting off….
I can’t write any more now; I’m too angry…
Good one, though, if a bit hard for the general run of people, who won’t be able to confront their own feelings, or listen to you expressing yours… You have my email, if you ever need to vent….
See ya, I gotta go mellow out, so I can sleep tonight…. Sorry, but, I have history with molesters, as a former psychiatric therapist, and it’s a hard one for me….
Take care, sister…
Ned
gigoid recently posted..An Andorean warrior, curiously in mufti, stares in wonder….
Valentine Logar
/ May 14, 2014I love you and I love my darling Ms Little V. My fury at this story when you first told me reached down into the very bowels of hell to try to draw fire and cast it. I do not have your ability to view through the prism of ‘doing the right thing to see justice’, I wanted to get on a plane and beat the SOB till he was a bloody pile of broken humanity in front of me.
I am always here.
Valentine Logar recently posted..Our Lost Soul
Gail Thornton
/ May 14, 2014I read your post when it was first put up here. I have been sickened with rage and disgust for which I have no words. The knot in my stomach will not go away, the tears in my eyes. My ache for Little V and you is beyond painful. I have been unable to comment, until this my fourth reading. You know I love you and your little ones so deeply but I must say it and let you know it once again. Please know I am here, even when I am silent.
xxxGail
Gail Thornton recently posted..Poem – On Hold to Paris
Tess
/ May 17, 2014For the life of me I cannot understand the abuse of any child. Any. Ever.
I’m sorry to hear this happened to your Little V. That you held on to your sanity is remarkable. I do not know, nor can I imagine, how I might have reacted.
Tess recently posted..Day 2: Are We There Yet?
John McDevitt
/ May 20, 2014Child abusers are lower than whale shit.
You are indeed mama (mama bear!). V’s well being trumps the abuser. Forgiveness has nothing to do with saying “I’m sorry.” Forgiveness means letting go so you don’t drown in the morass created by others. Let them drown in their own shit. V is far more important. (But you knew that all along).
John McDevitt recently posted..Busy Making Music with My Harps aka Harmonicas
Gray Dawster
/ May 26, 2014I am so pissed off that I didn’t backtrack through your postings as I have totally misinterpreted the pain that you are experiencing right now.
This creep is the lowest of the low, I am truly sickened that such a gross act has taken place, and I am shocked and bloody angry all at the same time.
If I were there I would give you a really big hug my sweet and dear friend, I don’t know what to say as all I am feeling is a deep hatred for the asshole that did this. I hope justice is served swiftly, those filthy creeps make me sick 🙁
Andro xxxx