The movie, "Forrest Gump," remains one of my favorites. It's about a young man who's mother teaches him that he is no different from anyone else even though the boy knows this isn't true. His life is touched by remarkable encounters from having his legs straightened so that he could run, to serving in Vietnam, to being a shrimp boat captain to loving only one woman his entire life.
This scene in the movie is with that childhood friend that Forrest gave solace to. He did not know the deep pain she lived in until this moment. At the end, he sums it up perfectly.
Jenny's character speaks to a lot of us who were sexually abused by our Dad's. Those memories are seared into our minds and they can flash up out of nowhere. I find them startling.
The last couple of weeks (or maybe longer) I've been afraid to go to sleep. I stay on the couch longer. My dreams are more vivid. Though they are not sexual abuse related they are about power or anger or another strong emotion. My appetite is down. I have too many headaches and a couple of migraines. What does all of this mean?
Those are signals that the sexual abuse memories are being stirred up inside of me. It's no surprise really now that I'm focusing on losing weight. Truth is, there's no getting used to it's predictability. Just like being abused, even though you sense it coming, it's not for sure until it happens.
So the depression has gotten heavier.
My voice has gotten quieter.
My eating has gotten regulated.
My sleeping has gotten lighter.
My medication is taken twice a day.
My social life is picky.
My therapy is weekly.
My psychiatrist is monthly.
I do what I can, for as long as I can and then I rest.
I hope to add walking but that's like dragging an elephant.
Lord, I need you now.
