A Good Session

It is hard to bare myself at times but if this blog is going to offer to others anything different then it does no good to hide in shame. My session with Dan this evening offered me some good stuff. I discussed all the happenings of the last week and my feelings of frustration, betrayal, and pain. Dan asked me how I felt I needed to respond which I soon turned around to ask him what he thought. He reminded me of the picture I had painted for him of myself meeting my second perpetrator and lying down to hide myself from those that might see me riding in the car with him. It was such a powerfully shame filled memory. Dan's suggestion for now is that whatever I choose to do needs to be the opposite of that shame filled picture. What that means, he would never attempt to define for me, but encouraged me to seek for the response and image that is the opposite.

For the present, I only know that silence, in the present, is equal to the shame filled hiding of the past. My choice is to speak. My dream is to speak to ministers, congregations, seminaries, and anyone else that is willing to hear my story and what I have learned through my journey.

How do I get from point A to point B when the church does not want to hear the truth. I asked my sister-in-law why the church is so afraid of the truth. She replied "truth hurts". Mary also honored my tenacity in this pursuit. She is looking for a way to help my pursuit to be heard.

I feel sort of like gum that is stuck on the floor in my classroom. The powers that be (me and administration) did not want it in my classroom, but it came anyway and stuck itself firmly to my floor. There is no way to sweep it underneath the carpet. It is stubbornly stuck and going no where. And so am I. I suppose I can bombard a lot of folks with the truth, stubbornly refusing to be swept away - the question that remains is "how?"

Cataracts

Years ago before my mom had cataract surgery, I took her shopping for a dress to wear to a wedding. She picked out a lovely one but I was surprised to see it was purple - a color she seldom wore. I had a feeling she was not seeing it clearly and pointed out to her that purple was an unusual color for her to choose. Being my loving but stubborn mother, she insisted it was navy blue! I calmly told her it was purple. Finally she asked the sales clerk just in order to prove me wrong. It was purple!

Like my mom and the purple dress, I see the church and pastors through damaged lenses. Time after time, I find myself struggling to know the truth in the present because the past distorts it.

In reading the regional ministers late reply to my requests I experienced the same. My first response was to only see his "no's" and his wishy washy political efforts to pat me on the back and send me on my way. Then I reread it and thought surely I was completely mistaken the first time and went into a state of feeling shamed by my reaction. This man sounds so gentle and kind. Then finally I read it a third time and was just flat confused because both are evident.

I somehow expect that the truth is somehow a mismash of all of the above.

Though I had sworn that I would not reply to his email I gave it one more swing this morning. I don't know if I am simply stubborn like my mom, hearing the voice of God, being a fool, or all of these options. I have chosen to risk once more.

The regional minister promised to give my typed suggestions to the task force. This sounds encouraging on the surface, however I have specifically asked for the opportunity to do so myself. I asked this time to be able to trim down and organize my thoughts and remove any reference to Bob, and to include a letter to the task force. In it, I will personally make my case for speaking to them myself. I also asked if he is planning to encourage them to allow me the opportunity to speak. If he chooses the wishy washy on that, I will know he does not.

I also offered him an education on dealing with victims and enlightened him on the pain and damage his waiting so long to answer my questions had caused. I asked him to consider that and to answer me in a timely manner.

No answer this time will speak loudly. I have confronted him in truth but without angst over the power he carries to wound or heal. If he does not choose to heal then I will know his true heart. We will see. Only time will tell.

The Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) Failed to Protect Me

As of this evening, I feel no need to protect the denomination of which my perpetrator was a part. I have received a well written and seeminly caring response from the regional minister but I am discouraged with his answers.

It began when they certified a predator to be my pastor when I was 17 and he abused me.

Then they did not follow procedure when I reported him 7 years ago.

Once I realized that fact this past August and asked to be given the answers to several questions, the regional minister put me off for 5 months and then finally tonight told me he could not answer my questions. I am grateful to finally hear something but angry that it took 5 months.

Finally, last August I requested to speak to the ministry commission to be told "No, but a task force was being appointed and my request to speak would be presented to them as soon as they met." There was much positive to hope for in that statement, though it would ultimately be the decision of the task force. I felt with the support of the regional minister they would choose to hear me. Now I hear a much watered down statement as to my being able to speak. The regional minister cannot offer me any assurity that this will happen.

I am angry and wrestle to hold on to the truth that this is not a statement about my value. I am sad that the denomination of the church I have been attending is no more concerned for a sheep than this shows. I am also determined to not be silenced.

How do we force the church to take its head out of the sand? Do we have to suck the sand away so they have nothing in which to bury it? Will God send a wave to wash the sand from around their heads? Am I part of that wave?

I so wanted to find a voice in a setting that would cause no damage to anyone but could make an impression that could bring a positive change for the future. Once again the church disappoints me.

Confused and Ashamed

I haven't written in a month because I have been emotionally smothered under thick layers of shame. I felt ashamed of having to write that the same old issues were defeating me. When I unearthed my relationship with the second pastor, and began dealing with it in therapy, the shame from that relationship broke over me like a tsunami and overwhelmed me. Finally this last week the ultimate question arose in therapy.

"Why is this taking me so long, Dan?" I asked it, voice cracking and heart begging for him to tell me that I was not a failure. I realized from the panicked tone of my voice that shame was at the bottom.

What Dan offered was comforting. For those of you seeking your healing from pastoral sexual abuse, listen clearly.

"Not many choose to confront this. Most leave it stuffed down and undealt with. Not many go this deep. Most get caught in the pursuit of false love and never break free of the "plastic" relationships. They go to their grave having fallen victim over and over because they can't face it all. Plastic lilies sit on their graves. You are facing it. This is no small thing you are doing. You are taking the road less traveled and it takes time to traverse it."

For all of you out there who also face the shame and sometimes find it overwhelming , who shudder at the pain, who wonder how much longer, may Dan's words to me give you comfort.

Di

Shrinking my Shame

Just a little bit of a pun in this title..... as I just spent an hour with my shrink working on shrinking my shame.

Dan's great, and I continue to grow in my appreciation of him. Ever encouraging, he picks up on what is important, sees my anger, feels my pain, and understands the depth of it all. He never thinks something is not a big deal. He sees past the outside to what occurred inside.

Tonight I finally uncloaked some details of my relationship with Minton. I expected the most difficult part to be the sexual details but I ended up sharing, remembering little of that. What wrenches itself up and out of me is the immense fear and shame. Fear of being caught. Shame of what I am doing - not doing, did. But that Freudian slip reveals the immediacy in the emotion associated with these happenings of 30 years past.

I recalled our first tryst. The shame of giving in to his request that I come by his house on my way to work. I described the day he reserved a room at a hotel just out of town. He lied about where he was and took the day off. I remember the stares as we swam in the pool. I remember the dark headed lady that kept looking at me and knew the truth. I remember the horrible desire to hide and run but simultaneously feeling trapped and unable to. Perhaps worst of all, I remember the day his parents returned from their vacation early and found me at their house waiting on Minton to return from the store with me something to drink. I remember the horror I felt as I pushed opened the locked screen and ran out the door and ran on and on until I finally stopped exhausted and sat on a hill and waited on Minton to come and find me. I remembered the sick feeling.

I sat holding the pillow tonight wanting to throw up while Dan summarized all the emotion I had described: fear and more fear and shame - mounds of it. The horror of being trapped in something that I could not find the ability to end. The driven neediness inside warring with the anxiety - neither winning. To walk away meant complete aloneness. The church had long ago dumped me. I could not do it until my fear became so great that I couldn't not do it.

I left Dan's tonight with a smorgasboard of emotion. All I had uncovered was still fresh but right along with it was this fantastic relief from having shared it with someone else - not just the words but the vivid emotions that accompany the memories.

Freedom

I continue to work on the shame issues over the relationship with Minton but I am only working on it sporadically. Life has been so very busy at work and home that the time to think is scarce. Though, I also wonder if I have not passed some kind of milestone in being able to work on emotional issues when I choose instead of them devouring me at their whim.

I had a really good session with Dan last night and we continued to talk about my transferential feelings with Tom and their connection to the shame with Minton. I can tell I am making progress in defeating the shame because it isn't so strong as I talk about it. Even now sitting and typing I feel much more at ease. I also recognize that it will take more work to finish this.

I feel a little concerned and guilty that I am in no hurry to hear from the task force on sexual misconduct. I am dreading having to pull all that back out to deal with it again. It is so emotionally draining. I asked Dan what he thought about my change of feeling in this area.

Dan's thoughts were that it is not a problem since I am doing some good work in the moment and one thing on the burner at the time is probably enough for anyone. What I am presently looking at is timely and will further prepare me for the opportunity to share with the church's committee.

When I talk with Dan it feels so good to talk with someone who so thoroughly understands what I am saying. I don't have to work to make myself understood. We flow together. I feel a lot of support and peace in my relationship with him. And I trust him. Nice.

God's timing first with Cheryl and then John and now Dan has been so evident. Each of them has played a role in the work I was doing in that time period that the others would not have been able to play so well. His hand in my healing is an area I am very grateful for this season.

Love and Loyalty

I had an awesome vacation camping at the beach with my husband. It was remarkable for two reasons. First, it dawned on me how faithful and loyal my husband has been to me for 27 years. We talked about the fact that he has always stood by me and never even considered abandoning me in the midst of any trial in our marriage. For the first time, his ever present support sunk in to a new level. Out of all my fears of abandonment, I suddenly was able to rejoice in the wonder of my husbands care. As the light bulb came on at a new level, our relationship blossomed over the 5 days. It was a special time together - one of the most special times in our marriage. It was hard to come home.

I returned to an appointment with Dan - my first with him as my official personal therapist. Dan has worked with us as a couple for years and though I have met with him a few times alone when Rob was out of town or sick at the last minute or Dan was filling in when Cheryl was gone and I was in a crisis, this was the first official meeting with him as my own therapist. It felt comfortable, right. Though I am grieving in saying goodbye to John, I am mostly enjoying saying hello to Dan. I am already able to turn some of my emotional baggage from Tom to Dan and it was obvious to me last night that this is a very good thing.

I almost felt normal at the Wednesday night meal and program. Instead of reaching emotionally into Tom or wanting to reach into him and fighting the tendency, I was at peace. Today, when I considered emailing Tom about some thoughts, I stopped and decided to keep that between Dan and me. It isn't that I won't continue to work with Tom. I can't attend church and not do that. However, I think I will be able to keep some of the emotional transference in therapy and deal with it with a professional who is trained to help me do just that. It gets really messy in real life when my emotions, thoughts, and fears from the past invade the present.

I feel much less of a need to explain the sometimes bizarre emotions to Tom now. It is more OK that he doesn't "get it". I just remind myself that Dan very much does get it. With Dan, I don't have to explain it to feel OK with who I am and what I am struggling with. Those of you who have experienced a good therapeutic relationship will understand this. For those who haven't, I'm not sure I can explain it. I could not have understood prior to being in therapy myself. I think if must be the kind of relationship that has to be experienced to understand.

Dan is a Christian and not afraid to say he is. He is less guarded in his "blank wall" needs or beliefs and it feels more natural and normal to me than working with John did. Besides being good at what he does, Dan has a way of always seeing the positive - something that does not come naturally to me. As I shared with him on Tuesday all the fears, struggles, and frustrations of the previous Wednesday at church, he saw the progress. He saw the courage. He saw the getting up and brushing myself off and the determination to move on. I tend to see the mistakes and the never ending struggles to function in the denomination in which I was abused. Dan pointed out to me far more positive than any negative I could innumerate.

I also continue to talk via email with Sandy, my fellow survivor. One day, perhaps, she will write her story and let me post it on this blog. It is amazing how our journeys have paralleled each other's. Talking with her is meeting a need I did not know how to scratch. Being with my SNAP friends has been a powerful experience, yet this one is even more so. Sandy's abuse having happened at the same age of 17, in the same year as mine, at the hands of her youth pastor makes the connection powerful. The fact that she too has confronted her perpetrator and a regional minister in the same denomination, and contacted the national church adds a lot of parallels to share. I am presently reading her written account of those confrontations. I am reading slowly though and not late at night. The connection is so strong that her story sets off a plethora of feelings - anger being the primary one.

Well that should catch my friends up on the happenings of the last week. God continues to work and I continue to be grateful.

Di

Today's Revelations

After spending the past few days a little under the weather and very depressed emotionally, I found a large volume of anger inside. I am in the process of acknowledging the anger and releasing it out of me.

I certainly have reason to be angry at the church government. I have reason to not trust them. Anger, however seems to do nothing to bring about change, but instead it ravages me. I am miserable when I am very angry. Once I recognize the anger and can find waves to vent it - usually emailing or talking to someone I trust - the emotional effect lessens.

After meeting with Bob and talking with him on two occassions on the phone, I realized that the past regional minister had been duped. Bob was upset but upset does not equal repentant. Neither is he flagrantly declaring he was not wrong. Instead he seems incapable of focussing his mind on any of it. He seemed to mentally dance around it all, and, when confronted with his own denial, appeared confused. To see himself clearly as God sees him is evidently beyond his capability. To me this is a sad existence. It is only in seeing truth that we experience God's grace. God's grace makes seeing truth worth it every time.

Sharing my desire to see mandatory psychological testing done with all reported cases of misconduct was far from embraced by Reg, the present regional minister. His further aluding to the fact that he disagrees with a fair amount of what I wrote him has me wondering what kind of Christian he is. And I am angry.

I am angry that he is not willing to take a stronger stand, that he seems to be aligning himself with Bob. "If you are not with me then you are with Bob," is not a very rational statement but I think it is reasonable for me to feel. It also frustrates me that Reg's lack of full response to my verbal appeal and my written letter has not occured. The first time he alluded to an answer but did not state it clearly. The second time he did not refer to my questions at all. Was that intentional? Surely it must be.

I am angry at Reg and the past top dog. I feel an attempt by both men to silence me and not stir things up for Bob's family. I am angry about Bob's silencing me for so many years. I am angry that society silenced me all those years.

I am angry that Tom seemed to want to silence my complaints, as well, in defending Reg to me. I am angry that the chair of the regional minsterial committee hasn't gotten back with me after he said he would. I hear, "Ignore her and she will eventually get quiet."

I feel as if too many men are patting me on the head and saying, "Now, now, don't be so upset," when in reality there is much to be upset about.

Don't worry, I know that I can't remain in this angry state. I know that it is good to find resolution and a place of release and forgiveness. I also know that stuffing it down isnt' the way to get there, at least for me it never works that way. I always seem doomed to experience the anger fully, face the damage and pain inflicted by others, and only then can I find resolution and the ability to release the other from my unforgiveness.

Di

Closure After Abuse

As I was defending my need to write a 2 1/2 page letter to the regional minister and expecting a reply to all the issues I discussed, I discovered why I am less driven to get online and post my thoughts.

Closure. This summer when I confronted Bob, I found my voice and I used it. I spoke truth. I spoke of my own pain. I confronted a man in denial with the reality he cannot see. In finding my voice, I found closure in my experience with my perpetrator.

While I have wanted to add to my story and fill in the blanks between the abuse and my present, I find it difficult to find the words. When I began the blog, I found it difficult to wait a few hours to post what I was feeling and the words filled the page easily.

Closure is evidently a real experience. Now to find that same closure with the church.

Di

Driven to Talk

The baby tern on the right in this picture would not shut up. If either parent moved a inch to the left, he moved and continued to squawk.

I thought I would be through talking after conversing with Bob but like the tern, matters press me on. I certainly enjoy talking and writing. Communication is my profession and now I wish to take my profession of teaching to a new audience. The best teaching often comes from raising questions and pointing out problems that need to be solved.

I have written an email to two of the church's regional ministers in my state. I have asked for an opportunity to sit and talk with them. One of those ministers is Michael, Bob's son-in-law, the other is Michael's boss. My agenda with Michael is more personal, as I want to continue our conversation without Bob's presence. I have a few more memories I think he should be aware of that seemed pointless to share with Bob when he was not going to acknowledge them. I would also like him to know about the conversation I first had with Bob. I think it might be hard but good for him to hear John's take on Bob's psychological condition, as well. And, because Michael was so caring, I want to let him know first of my plans and desire to share with the ministerial leadership committee in the state.

With both Michael and Ray, I hope to share multiple thoughts, questions and suggestions as to procedures the church follows when a report of pastoral sexual misconduct occurs. I will list my thoughts below:

1. Psychological evaluations are needed and should be required in all reported cases. A third party that is completely objective is needed.


2. An increase in the number of people with access to files that remain open - meaning the incident was not settled, there is disagreement or lack of enough evidence to defrock the minister but enough evidence to cause concern as to his past behavior and present condition. Presently only one person has access to the those files.


3. A different set of thoughts and procedures for predatory behavior or child molestation is needed. These procedures might include:

• mandatory reporting of criminal activity that is in policy and well known by all ministers in the denominational region.


• contact of whole congregations when a predator has pastored in that congregation regardless of the passage of time.


• mandatory therapy for the length of ministry if a file is left open but the pastor remains in ministry.


• an understanding that victims may take many many years to come forward and this should not decrease the validity of the report in the eyes of the ministerial committee reviewing the report or affect the outcome.


• open disclosure to the victim of the perpetrators statement and of any consequences that the ministerial committee enacts.


• contact of victim if and when the ministers relocates.

I am interested in some feedback, especially if you are a minister. I want to go into the meeting with an understanding of all parties and the needs of the church, victim, and perpetrator in consideration. What do you see that sounds important and what might seem impossible?

And friends, if you don't mind, could you leave your thoughts here on the blog instead of emailing.

A Visit with David Clohessy - January 20, 2007

Today was different. My brain was educated and my heart has much to ponder.

Today I picked up SNAP's (Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests) national president at the airport and chauffeured him around the big city for a press conference. If you are not familiar with David Clohessy you can Google his name and meet him. This is exactly what I did last night when my offer to pick him up and tote him around was accepted.

Whoa! The dude is in Wikepedia! A fact I don't think he was aware of prior to my informing him. David has been on all major networks, and interviewed by most talk show hosts. Major publications, like Time, have carried his articles and when someone news related needs a comment on pastoral misconduct they go to David. His own journey to becoming president of SNAP began at the hands of his own perpetrator.

So, what's he like? Nothing like one would expect such a notorious person to be. He is refreshingly real - and no better with directions than me! We spent quite a while roaming around some interesting sections of Atlanta looking for the lawyer's office. Once found, we were ushered in and I was even asked to help proof the press releases. I was also the official poster maker for the day.

Let's see...... Chauffeur, Editor, Advertising Agent - all in one day. Beats painting the house!

To the heart of things, David has me thinking about the importance of disclosure of the perpetrators name. Is he molesting the next door neighbor's kids? No pressure from David, just a question. One that God and I are going to have to wrestle out. What do you guys in blogger world feel about this?

Having never been a very politically active person - I think I have been heard to say things like I HATE POLITICS! - my cage was rattled a wee bit to be swept up into an announcement of new litigation filed against the ex-minister Earl Paulk. Feel free to Google him too. The list of accusations being handed the man will make you sick. Seems, he thought he was due a harem and he apparently collected and that is just starters as far as the law suit is concerned. Why is this type of behavior not illegal?

As I shared my own story with David, I watched and listened to the new me. That is who I was. Me. No striving for approval. No need for his acceptance. No need to be the constant center of attention. Healed and whole more than I even knew I could be and I didn't even realize how radical was the change until I sat down to write this.

Well, it is late and tomorrow I have to paint the house - or scrape, sand, patch, caulk, and prime it in order to get it ready to paint. I feel for the house....I have been there.

Facing GAD

GAD - General anxiety disorder according to Wikipedia is: "an anxiety disorder that is characterized by excessive, uncontroll-able and often irrational worry about everyday things. The frequency, intensity, and duration of the worry are disproportionate to the actual source of worry, and such worry often interferes with daily functioning."

I have it. Yesterday I was reminded of that. It was a humbling experience.

We stopped by Lowe's to buy a few items and discovered the paint we want has a big rebate this weekend. That meant if we could make a final decision and buy what we needed for the outside of the house then we could save about $80. We had tried out a couple colors on our storage building and thought we had it down to what we wanted, a touch of black added to a doubled "recipe" from one of the cards. So the guy mixed it up and there we had 5 gallons of paint that sure did look a lot darker than we thought it would. So, he added some white and lightened it a little and we went with it.

On the way home I worried and worried that it was not the same as what we had already picked out. It looked so much darker. We had just spent $300 on paint and what if it was the wrong color. My anxiety was climbing and it was not rational and I knew it. Then once I got home I felt nauseas and took something and crawled in the bed talking to myself about why I did not need to feel this degree of anxiety - the paint had proven perfect but the anxiety just wouldn't retreat.

Then it hit me. When was the last time I had taken my Effexor? Hmm. Not that day. Not the day before. No wonder. Effexor unlike other anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds has a more immediate effect and if you forget to take it the results show up in a day or two and you come down with flu like symptoms including nausea. So I popped my meds and read for a little while. An hour later, I was fine. Anxiety almost gone and no nausea.

I forget sometimes that underneath the meds remains GAD. About 3% of those living in the U.S. have GAD and 2 out of 3 are women. I am willing to bet that those women are at least perimenopausal. That is when mine started, when my hormones began to plummet.

A symptom of GAD is being extra hard on oneself......so, I am hard on myself for having GAD! I do see the humor in that. :-) What a vicious cycle. I first had to break that cycle by being ok with not being ok with being anxious. I know - weird, but it worked. I would get anxious over feeling anxious, I still do at times. I had to be ok with being anxious over my anxiety. Finally I could get at being ok with my anxiety itself.

I live so normally the majority of the time, that when the anxiety flares up due to a circumstance or my forgetting my meds, I have to remind myself it is ok to be flawed. But because of my GAD I have learned to be careful giving "pat" answers to people. To tell me there is nothing to be worried about when I am unmedicated is pointless. I know that. Nevertheless I stay anxious. The worst thing I can do is become frustrated at myself over the anxiety. Shame causes it to skyrocket.

So remember my GAD when you think you have an easy answer for someone. What is easy for you may very well be impossible for someone else.

Today, I thank God for Effexor! (I wonder if they would pay me for this advertisement?)

Normal Everyday Stuff: Phone Call 2 to Abuser

I really didn't want to make this call. I couldn't gather my thoughts and even as I talked with Tom and my husband, I was unsure of my need. Part of me wanted Bob's response to be "no" and part of me wanted it to be "yes". It was neither.

I had no idea what I wanted to say, for one last time, if he denied my request to see him face to face. Yes, I deserved an explanation ,but the only thing I could think that I had to know was "What happened to the dogs?"

I told my husband, "No mumbling. No comments. No angry retorts." No reply. "You are ignoring me."

"Ok, I promise."

Tom asked if I wanted him in the room or out in the reception area and I simply pointed with some vigor to the chair he was standing in front of and then cracked a smile. He smiled back and sat down.

After taking the phone number out, I dialed and Bob's wife answered. I didn't remember what she sounded like. I hadn't remembered what Bob sounded like. I asked to speak to Bob and she asked who it was, and I told her. I had made the decision to talk with her if she wanted, but she hesitated and moment and simply said, "Hold on." and went and got Bob.

I wanted Tom and Robin there but I purposely looked away from them when Bob came to the phone. I especially did not want to pick up on my husband's anger or protectiveness if it arose. I did not want to deal with anyone's emotions but my own. They were enough to sort through and listen to.

When Bob said hello, I told him I was sitting with Tom and my husband in Tom's office calling him back as I had said I would. Bob responded with something like this." "Well, I just got back from Argentina and we haven't had time to all sit down as a family. I am not sure when that can happen. Michael's family is due into town tonight . I am afraid it might be a while...... before we can work anything out. I am still open to it but it might be quite a while before we can all talk and well it might be quite a while if we decide to do this - like several months. You do know what Michael does don't you? And I was thinking maybe you and Tom and Michael and I could sit down after the summer."

"Yes, I know Michael is state youth director and works the camps for the summer... and I thought you might be more comfortable with him joining us and I'm ok with that."

"Well, between that and his and (his daughter's) going out of town for a week and a half and the national conference in August, it might be late summer or fall if we decide to do it."

"Ok, well when do you want me to touch base with you again? How am I going to know?"

"Well, its going to be a while. Maybe just call back if you don't want me to call you." We both paused thinking about the options.

"How about if you get Michael to email Tom, and Tom can tell me, and I'll call you then?"

"Ok, Michael can call Tom, and then you can call me." He was sounding relieved.

"How is your son?" he suddenly threw in.

It was such a fast change of subject that I was trying to mentally wrap my mind around his question. I was wondering how he knew anything about my son. "Which one?" I replied somewhat confused while Tom leaned over to Robin and said "He is trying to normalize the conversation."

"The one I met at Al's (my brother) funeral. Do you have more than one?"

"Yes I have tw0. You met my oldest. Our youngest just got married."

"Which one did I meet?" he asked betraying the fact that he might be a little more nervous than he was letting on.

"The oldest and they are both doing well."

"I still have that picture you took of (my daughter). The one with the bubbles." We both said "the bubbles" simultaneously. "I had it in my office at work for years and when her daughter was born I framed one of her and put it beside it."

"Do they look alike?" I asked.

"Yes, they look a lot alike. And Di, (wife) has taken up photography." He remembered I was really into it.

"I still take pictures. I like closeups a lot now." I said realizing it seemed ok having this sort of normal, human conversation with him, though I was aware of what he was doing. It was ok.

"We went out to Yellowstone this past year to see the wolves." he shared. "Mostly (wife) takes nature pictures."

"That sounds really fun."

"It was. Seeing the wolves was really awesome."I just got back from Argentina, went down to hunt dove. Dove are pests to the people of Argentina. Someone here asked me if I was going on a mission trip, knowing I was a pastor, and I told them the only mission I was on was to rid the world of some pests." He had a lot to say and at first I was hesitant - but why not? I figured it was ok to just be human this time. I didn't think it could hurt. I need to see the whole picture of who he is and has become. Seems to be healthy as long as I don't lose myself in that part of it.

"My nephew used to run a quail farm down in Thomasville." I shared.

"Really!"

"Bob, can I ask you one thing before we go?"

"Ok," he said rather hesitantly with a change in voice tone, but my question wasn't a hard one.

"What ever happened to the dogs?" Tom looked at Robin and Robin looked at Tom and they both had this exasperated look and shook their heads in disbelief.

"Well, I took them with me when I first moved and they stayed in the back of my truck at the little parsonage and then when I came back down to get the family, I left them with a friend who had quite a few of his own dogs until I could get the kennels built and went back to get them." He seemed quite relieved and surprised that my question had to do with Mack and Preach. "Preach died one hunting trip when I had taken him out. Mack lived to return to the state here, but was way past his hunting years. He eventually died and I buried him in my dog cemetary - lots of sand and easy to dig. I have always had dogs."

"Well, I always wondered." I explained.

"We carry things with us. Life goes on, doesn't it? We continued in areas and things that we shared," he seemed to think that was a comfort, and in a way it was. He had introduced me to backpacking and though I never continued that avenue, we have as a family enjoyed many wonderful camping expeditions. He doesn't know that though. Yeah, I guess there were things we shared that were ok and even some positive. I can handle that.

"So, you'll get Michael to touch base with Tom when you are ready, and then I will call you to see what you decided, right?" I changed the subject and aimed at ending the conversation.

"Yes, I will do that late summer or early fall."

"Ok." I had little choice and it felt fine.

"Take care."

"You too."

Upon hanging up, I gave my rendition of the other side of the conversation to my husband and Tom. Hubby was quiet and not very comfortable with the shallowness of the conversation. Tom asked me how I felt.

I responded by telling him I wasn't sure yet and I wasn't sure I trust myself enough to know. I explained that, "It is easy for me to fall back into the 17 year old. It felt ok talking about normal stuff though I wasn't expecting it, but I could feel myself doing the old 'put aside the reality of the abuse' and try and get from Bob the relational dynamics that I had wanted at 17. I am going to have to be careful to find the full reality and humaness of life, and I think that is a good thing to see the fullness and not just the abuse, without letting the human parts make me susceptible to old patterns. I can feel myself reaching into Bob like the 17 year old. Isn't it amazing that after all these years, I still tend to do that."

Tom nodded for a few moments and then said something that really touched me. "Di, I think you are healthier than you would be if you had not gone down this path. I mean we all have our dealings, but not many of us reach the place that we understand the dynamics of what we feel and why, the way you do. You just see them and share them and put them out there in the light .......... and that is so healthy."

Wow. Now that is being known and cared for and shared with in a righteous and loving, agape way. I am blessed.

How to Refuse the Victim Role

In my last post I asked myself a hard question. How do I make sure I leave the victim mentality behind. I have had some good responses and hard questions asked of me. In considering the questions, it occured to me that a post I had written a month ago might have the answer. The My Stuff/ Their Stuff concept seems to play a major role in my letting go of being a victim.

As long as Bob's actions were about me then I remained a victim. To whatever degree any of that lies hidden inside of me, I still remain a victim. When I see Bob's abuse as a statement about him and not me, then I am not a victim and in a sense never was. I am only a victim if I allow his actions to define me.

At first, the abuse was my fault. I was an abuse magnet. Then slowly I came to see he was a predator but I still hated the needy part of myself that allowed the abuse. After dealing with the self hatred, it took some time for me to fully face the degree of abuse and predation he purpetrated on me. Why? Because I believed it was about me. For example: Though I remembered for years that Bob had set me up to keep his friend Charlie company and had felt he wanted me to entertain him sexually, it was not until a few months ago that I realized the fact that he was actually pimping me off on Charlie. Though it was right in front of my face, I couldn't see it. Why? Because, at one time it would have defined me as a whore.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped letting others define me so easily and when I discovered myself back in a "Bob's abuse" season, the experience defined him as a sexual addict and a sadistic and cruel one. His behavior did not define me and I could see it clearly and in a new light.

In the present - his choice of meeting with me or not - is not about me. I have been surprisingly fine with waiting to recontact him. I didn't expect to reach a point of being fine and focussing most of my time on other day to day issues. I was ready for more turmoil than this has caused. I have found strength that I was not aware existed inside of me.

Bob's decision will be about him, his courage or lack of it, his ability to look at truth or his lack of ability, his degree of repentance and recovery, etc. He has tried to make it about me - first as to whether I was still extremely angry, then to whether my therapist is supportive of my doing this and feels I can handle it, and finally to whether my therapist was a quack and pushing me into doing this as the only way to find healing. None are true and he has been told that 4 times now. Three times by me and once through Tom's conversation with his son-in-law, Michael. I expect to hear it again if he decides to not meet with me. I intend to tell him that his decision has to be about him and his need - that I am quite healthy enough to decide my own.

We can all work things out in the therapist's office, but sooner or later we have to work it out in our everyday lives. I am doing that in a deliberate, chosen way with Bob. His stuff is his. His actions and choices are about him. They aren't about me.

I believe this is refusing to be the victim. :-) And, it feels good.

Pastoral Exploitation and Letting it Go

Letting go is not going to be easy. For years the abuse dealt with me. In my dealing with it, I gained some semblance of control. I also gained a sense of being special - sort of a sick sense but when one seeks to feel special, it can be amazing how it doesn't really matter why you feel special. As a survivor, I have been a "special" client and often heard that "Not many go this deep or have this courage." As I disentangled my identity from being a victim and changed it to being a survivor, the abuse was nevertheless central to my identity.

At times like the last few months, it has been more obvious, more in control, more upfront and in my face. It has to be for me to deal with it at this depth, but I am aware that a time approaches when I will need to lay something down and leave it behind.

How do I move on to a place in which it does not define me or confine me without leaving behind a ministry I believe God has called me to? This sounds like the tight rope once again.

I first made a choice in October to defeat the confines the abuse still had on my life. For 5 years I had avoided church and certainly would not have considered the same denomination in which the abuse occured as a possible church home. But now I am there and it is only with a great deal of determination that I made it through the 3 or 4 months that followed. Slowly the knowledge that I had to face Bob settled in and I began this process. I don't know yet whether I will have that opportunity face to face or if the phone will be the best I am given.

One way or the other, I will soon be full cycle. By the second week in June or perhaps sooner, I will have talked with Bob and finished the cycle I began 34 years ago. What will I do then? Who will I be? I can't completely leave it behind because I have become who I am through the pain. But who I am transcends all of that.

I get the feeling that this new road will be challenging in itself. People get stuck in a victim mentality. I wonder if it is going to be hard for me to not get stuck there? I can see the road up ahead. I wonder what lies around the bend?

Di

Disappointment

So many emotions fill this recent journey of mine. Today as I sat in church, listening for God and praying over and over, "God, let your will be done, let your kingdom come in this decision Bob will make", my mind wandered to his possible answer of "No, it will cost us too much as a family." And suddenly tears welled up in my eyes. Tears of disappointment. As those tears flooded my face and my husband handed me his handkerchief, I realized the disappointment went much deeper than the possible future meeting.

Disappointment. Disappointed in God for one. Though I stopped shaking my fist in God's face and let go of the anger over a loving father allowing such a horrendous thing to happen, I find disappointment remains. Hmmm. I know that this is my stuff, not God's. How must I align my understanding of God to not feel he let me down? Or do I simply acknowledge the disappointment and let it go too?

Disappointment in church and pastors runs deep. Fear of them runs deep. A year ago, I could not have entered a church without a Xanex to get me through it. Today I attend regularly but I can't join. And often I feel disappointed in the church. I spent a great deal of my life feeling that way.

Disappointed that a time of my life that should have been a time of jubilation was not. This morning we celebrated both Mother's Day and graduation Sunday. We celebrated 9 young lives who will soon move on to college or careers. They looked so young. And then I cried more. No telling what the people at this church, where emotions are not readily shown in the service, must think. The tears would not quit flowing.

Tears. I think these were healing tears and at two points I felt an overwhelming sense of God's presence.

Later today, once again I fell into the feeling of desperation of needing to see Bob. I just have to finish this no matter how. Then I remind myself that "No, I will not repeat the 17 year old's path. I will not seek his approval and pat on the back and sacrifice my need to get it." Twice now that has surfaced and twice now I have realized what was happening.

At 17 I was deeply disappointed in myself. At 51 I am proud of the 17 year old who made it through the abuse. I want to put my arms around her and tell her "I am not disappointed in you. You survived and I am proud of you."

Did I Sin?

Well, did I?

I had an interesting conversation with my therapist this past week on this very subject. I told John that at one time I truly believed that for some reason I was an abuse magnet, that somehow something was terribly flawed about me. I mean, I actually attracted this twice in my life and neither time was I out to get what I got. I was not throwing myself at these pastors. Yet, they both offered me a sense of being special and in both cases I accepted the relationship.

Did I sin?

If you check out some of the sites I have linked to my blog, you will find references that say it was not me at all but the responsibility of the pastor - 100%. Because a pastor like a therapist holds so much power in the relationship, the victim really can't consent. A concentual relationship can only occur in a relationship of equal power.

Yet, I have had a hard time swallowing that and have wrestled lately with it once again. This wrestling is not one based on shame or self hatred but rather on simply facing truth.

In discussing this question of my sin with my pastor Tom, he first sited scripture and then offered possible insight:

"In response to your question a scripture came to mind. Luke 17:1-3 1Jesus said to his disciples: "Things that cause people to sin are bound to come, but woe to that person through whom they come. 2It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.

As I read this Jesus is saying both/and. Yes there is sin involved, BUT who does he reserve the harsh judgment for? The one who caused his 'little one' to sin. I think Jesus is saying to me, and maybe you, confess your part in all this, but recognize you were victimized, that another set you up to sin, placed the temptation before you and abused the role God had placed them in; be they Apostle, Elder, Deacon, Teacher, Youth Director, Supervisor, or Pastor. "

John's thoughts were different. He proposed that the full responsibility has to reside in the pastor or therapist (He being a therapist, he has dealt with this issue personally.). If a client or parishoner comes to one and needs to act out in order to find their own healthy boundaries or to find they have value outside of abuse, if the pastor does not hold the total responsibility, healing has no chance to flow. The client must be free to seek that healing even if it means testing boundaries.

My thoughts are finding this expression:

I made choices that hurt me and I think I bear some responsibility, particularly for the second decision I made. I was no longer a child. I thought very differently and knew I was hurting myself. Perhaps, my sin stops there. It is the pastor's responsibility to care for the sheep and the church as a whole. His sin goes far beyond the scope of hurting himself - though that too is very true. He deeply damages an individual who looks to him as God's representative. He misuses power and turns it to control. He turns his back on God's calling on his life and breaks covenant with God over his promise to serve as a shepherd to the sheep. If caught, he damages many. The pastor ultimately holds responsibility for himself, the individual, and the church as a whole. The victim holds responsibility for herself.

Could that be the answer? Regardless as to the fullness of truth there, Tom once said to me that it was in the hard questions and wrestlings that we find God. So, I wrestle.

Confronting My Abuser: A Week's Journaling

I did it. Today, Wednesday, May 2, 2007, I called Bob at home and confronted him with the truth - the fullness of truth. I confronted with what he did not remember and I did it with kindness and grace. Please pray that he will have the courage to face the truth and find his Father.


This is what happened: I had an appointment with my pastor, Tom, and in the back of my head I thought I might go ahead and call Bob. Tom and I looked at his calendar to decide, if Bob agreed, when it might work for Bob to come over here and meet with me. I really didn't want a long period of time to pass between my contacting Bob and us sitting down - if he agreed to it, but Tom mentioned the fact that Bob would probably need some time to think his way through this, hopefully pray about it, and perhaps talk to his wife. So I looked at Tom and said, let's do it.

It took a little while to get the right phone number. I finally called the last church he had pastored and retired from 2 years ago and a lady answered. I told her I was trying to reach a man that had once pastored me and had been pastor there and told her his name. She asked me my name and then said, he was her father, and gave me the number. My God! I hung up realizing I had just talked to the little girl I had babysat. That was a very strange feeling.

I looked at Tom. Took a deep breathe. Dialed. Bob answered.

"Bob, this is Di ........and I used my present last name."

"Who?"

"Di.....and used my maiden name. " Dead silence.

"Bob, I am sitting in (church name) with Tom (last name) and I would like to talk with you about our relationship. Are you willing to talk to me?" I asked clearly but gently.

"I don't know, how angry are you still?" came a rather defensive reply. It was as if he was shooting arrows at me.

"I think I have dealt with most of that. I'm ok. I am ready to do this." I replied dodging the arrows and any reaction to him.

"Well I ask, because when T.N. (the regional minister I reported him to) came down here and talked with me and (wife) I was willing to sit down with you and your therapist.

"T.N. never told me you said that."

"I offered but T.N. said you were pretty angry and hurt and he didn't think you were ready." His voice remained defensive and betrayed a need to remain the one in control. My feeling was that he was saying that I was the one sick, but that didn't matter. What he thought wasn't truth and I knew it. I knew it deep inside and was even able to share from weakness and not strength.
Immediately upon his question of my level of anger and the tone of his voice, I also knew I was talking to a man unbroken. I responded with an amazing control and levelness and evenness through the whole conversation. Where did this woman come from?

"No, Bob, I wasn't ready. I had work to do. As a matter of fact, it was only this past fall after I came to this church that I finished enough to do this. I could never come to church here before. (I heard a quiet moan.) My mom moved to town and I took her to church. And when I did, every remnant left inside of me blew open. It wasn't easy. But I am through it, and I am ready, and I would like to talk. Can you?"

"Do you mean now on the phone?"

"Actually I was thinking of face to face and here at the church. It would mean your driving over." I added somewhat apologetically.

"I'm really sorry I hurt you." a slight tremor entered his voice. "I had no idea this would happen." "Are you still seeing a therapist?" he asked.

"Yes, I am".

"Is this something he encouraged you to do?" he asked somewhat patronizingly with the emphasis on the word "encouraged." He was still defensive but slowly his tone was changing and his voice cracked showing me his self control was lessening.

"No, he would never 'encourage' me to do something like this. It was my idea, and he has been supportive, and we have discussed it quite a bit, but he would never push me to do something like this."

"I would have to know it was his recommendation that you do this."

"He is supportive, Bob. I am fine. I am doing ok."

"I never saw you as a child, I know it was wrong and I was wrong not realizing it, but I saw you as a woman. I know that is not right, I am not saying it was but it was the way I saw you." he interjected in his defense.

Firmly but evenly I replied, "Bob, not only was I 17 and very much a child, but you were my pastor."

"Yeah, I know that. I understand that........" His tone never really sounded sorry. "We were such good friends and it just grew out of that."

Nothing in my tone was harsh as I said, "Bob, how did it come out of our friendship when I had only known you one day when it started?" Silence........

"Can you explain. I don't comprehend what you are saying." his voice was definitely quivering and inside of me power and a sense of truth was growing. I was very in control of myself and very aware of the fact that I was handling this wonderfully, much better than I would have expected. "I went by your house the first day and met you and your family and you asked me to meet you at the church to show you around the youth center and I did. I met you there the next day and on the walk back from the youth center you asked me if I had a boyfriend and I told you we had just broken up and then you asked me if we had sex. Bob, no body talked about stuff like that and I thought it was amazing and then when we got back to your office, you lifted my chin and you kissed me....and then on Thursday I babysat for (your daughter) and you came home while she was napping and we had oral sex and in three weeks time I was in bed with you."

He interrupted the last couple of words with, "That isn't what I recall. I remember taking you home from a lock-in at the church. You remember us having a lock-in?"

"Uh-huh"

"I took you home and I remember kissing you when I dropped you off." he replied quietly and seemed to be a little hesitant."

He seemed uncomfortable and somewhat confused as I spoke the truth, yet I think he was being honest when he said he did not remember anything before that time. He did not accuse me of being wrong he simply said he didn't remember it.

The lock-in was well into his stay at the church - as in months down the road. He is truly in deep denial.

"That is what I remember" he continued. "Whatever the details, I don't think either one of us needs to rehash through it. I don't think that will do any good."

Carefully I replied, "I'm not sure I agree with that, Bob. Healing only comes as we face the truth."

Silence.....

"So are you willing to listen to what I remember?" I pried gently.

"I don't know. I don't know if it would accomplish anything. Would it help you?"

"Yes, I think it would."

"When T.N. and his wife came down here and talked to me and (wife) it really tore us up as a family. I had spent a little time with a counselor before then and after that spent about 2 years in counseling. (Wife) had her own counselor. The first person I told after T.N. came down here was my son-in-law and my daughter. (Daughter) went to counseling too. " All this was said with a tone that betrayed a belief that he was the victim and I the purpetrator of his abuse. There was anger in his voice and defensiveness. I didn't swallow it, but neither did I react to it. I felt like the adult listening to the child.

"Well, let me tell you what Tom and I are thinking."

"You told Tom, he knows all this?" He obviously missed my statement in the beginning that I was sitting there with Tom.

"Yes, I told him. And he has walked beside me supporting me in these months as I dealt with it...... There is not a lynch mob here, Bob. No one is out to lynch you. Not Tom and not me........ We were thinking maybe early June. Can I call you back in a week and see what you think about sitting down and talking?"

"Well, I just don't know that it will accomplish anything. (Wife) is out of town taking care of her sick mother. It tore us up so much after T.N. came down here that I don't know that it will accomplish anything. We won't both be back home until after the 16th, I am leaving the country briefly. If I do this, it will be a family decision. I have to talk to them all first. And I absolutely have to know this is what your therapist thinks you need to do," he said trying to put it back in my lap.

"I am talking with him and will be talking with him. I'll get back with you then, when you are all back. Are you ok?" I am not sure he registered that last question.

He ended, we both ended with a moment of concern for the other, though I can't remember exactly what either of us said. I hung up and looked at Tom who had been rearranging the books there in the church library as he listened to my end of the conversation.

"I did it Tom." and a big smile broke out on my face as he replied, "Yes, you did do it and you did it with kindness." We talked about the fact that Bob might very well call him tomorrow and Tom assured me he would let me know, and he would also tell Bob that there were no secrets from me - that anything Bob said to him would be shared with me. And then we prayed for Bob, on my request and we both prayed that truth would break through to him and with it grace.

I asked Tom if, now faced with two different stories, he believed me. He replied, "I can't imagine someone creating such pain for themselves." but being the concrete person I am, before I left church for the night, I had him look at me and simply say "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

I love that man! God has a crown for him.

How am I? Amazing. A little in shock, but amazed at myself and what came out of my mouth and how it came out of my mouth. I felt no fear or intimidation and who Bob is did not in the least bit define me or my ability to cling to truth. How he responded or responds is not the issue. How I responded is what it is all about.


TRUTH REIGNS!


Thursday, May 3, 2007
Update to Confrontation

Today was horrendous at school. Stress and more stress. Please continue to pray for me, much is wrong there and it hits me at a vulnerable time. I had heart palpitations again this evening for an hour and was on my way to the emergency room when they stopped.

As far as Bob, he talked to his son-in-law who is also a minister and to his daughter last night after my call. His son-in-law called Tom this morning. They know each other pretty well. No questions about the differences in our story, but Bob was confused as to my therapists part in this. Odd. I answered that 3 times. It seems he was concerned I had some terrible shrink who was pushing me to do this and saying there was no way over it unless I did. Tom assured him that was not the case, that John had not suggested it or pushed me, though he was supportive of whatever I chose to do. Also they were looking for reassurance that no was was out to stone Bob. Tom assured him of that and offered to talk to Bob if he would like to talk with him.

It all feels scary and the fear is because I am afraid I will not be believed. I had to ask Tom again if he still believed me. He teasingly said he was not going to answer that question but as my panic rose to a high pitched, "You have to!" he quickly reassured me that he did.

That is so important to me. Without the support of my dear husband and Tom, I could not do this.

Then as I sat to write this post a couple of hours ago, my husband put his arms around me and told me he had sad news. Taffy, my calico cat of 15 years, was hit by a car. I completely broke down and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I asked him to call my two sons and one of them immediately left his night of RISK playing and came over. The other son was hosting the RISK tournament and sent his love and a hug.

Odd how I needed my children at that time of grief. It was my very first response. Get me my kids, now! When my son arrived he just held me and patted my back and let me cry all over his shoulder. I think that is the first time that has ever happened. It was nice.

I am at my emotional limit and called in and got a sub and will stay home tomorrow and call the doctor. I have no doubt that the palpitations are due to the stress and that God used my sobs tonight to release emotions I needed to release. I will terribly miss my cat, but I knew that the depth of grief that came out of me was not only about Taffy.

Taffy, was my birthday present from Jesus 15 years ago. I had wanted a calico but everytime one was advertised in the paper it ended up being a tabby. People didn't understand what a calico cat was. Then on my birthday my husband had seen a posting in a vets office for one and called and went over and got her. I named her Taffy because she was all different colors like salt water taffy.

We buried her in the flower bed where we will soon plant some new roses on top of her. I like that idea. Those roses will recycle her life. We still have her son, a black and white long hair cat named Snoopy. I wonder if he will miss her too?

Saturday, May 5, 2007 More thoughts on the confrontation

My mind is a little clearer this morning, after losing my cat, and I am intrigued with the degree of denial Bob displayed. I will be glad to see John on Tuesday to talk about all this. His expectation as to Bob's psychological condition was right on target. "It was all about Bob, wasn't it?" The narcissism is evident along with the denial. Bob also seems to be looking for any reason that he can hang on me as to why he should not meet with me.

The fact that Bob sees himself as the victim of my reporting him is a loud statement as to his psychological condition. Woe to his family for all I put them through. There was no sense or suggestion that it was his behavior that brought this pain on his family but rather the confrontation by T.N. that I initiated that caused them such pain.

I wonder if his family sees this distortion or if they are too soon in the healing journey to do so.

Also a part of our conversation that I forgot about and left out of the original dialogue, centered around when he had been confronted. He seemed to think it an admirable quality that the first person he told was his son-in-law. His son-in-law however worked in the central office and had contact with the ministerial committee that looked at all this, had/has access to the file that now had my story in it, and saw frequently T.N. the regional minister. It seems to me that he really had no choice but to tell his son-in-law. Secondly, he could not remember when the confrontation with T.N. occured in relation to his daughter's wedding. He admitted his memory as to timing was very foggy and that was just 5 years ago. It was a major circumstance in his life and he cannot remember if it occured before the wedding or afterwards.

In reality, it occured after the wedding because I requested he not be confronted until then. My report occured 6 weeks prior to the wedding. Denominational policy stated that he should have been confronted within 24 hours of my report. The policy was set aside because I did not want to hurt anyone or rob them of the joy of the wedding. It had been 30 years and T.N. did contact elders in the church to make sure nothing that appeared to be abusive was occuring.

I see that Bob now has two choices as he wrestles with this new confrontation. He can decide I am creating memories so I can avoid some internal strife, or he can face the fact that he is erasing memories to avoid a similar strife. Since I openly admit my desire for the relationship and eager participation, and because Tom's conversation with his son-in-law reassured him of my mental state - it seems he is going to have a harder time nailing the inconsistencies on me.

Also my conversation with him was so healthy, placing this new discord of memories on my psychological state should be difficult. It seems that God, by placing in my life Tom, and thus Tom's relationship with Bob's son-in-law, is making it more difficult for Bob to remain in denial.

The curtain is wrent in two. (For those who may not understand the analogy, when Jesus died, the curtain that separated the inner section of the temple where God was supposed to dwell, from the rest of it was torn in two. This represents the fact that all persons whether priests or not can now enter the holy of holies or God's presense.)

Saturday, May 5 More Thoughts and Feelings

Today has been strangly full of emotion at times and lacking of them at other times. Anxiety to numbness - I have shifted between the two. I don't know whether my grief over my cat or my phone call to Bob or my conflict at work or all of them are at fault.

Anger has also surfaced over Bob's lack of realizing it was his own sin that hurt his family and not my reporting of it or T.N.'s confrontation. But the anger seems to be dissipating pretty rapidly.

I have had major stomach cramps both this evening and late yesterday afternoon. Odd. I had them the summer of Bob's abuse. After lunch each day they would double me over in pain. I can't help but wonder if the ones I am having now are not equally related to connecting with Bob.

I started to email his son-in-law. His email is online. But then I decided I didn't like his picture. Actually I wasn't sure about doing it so I didn't. I wanted to tell him to go get the chart and read what I reported. I want him to know what Bob is denying.

I had coffee with the associate pastor of the church and one idea that came from it was for me to make sure I am not trying to be responsible for Bob. I can't do that. God is big enough to take care of him.

I am about to fall asleep so off to bed I go. Thanks for all your prayers out there.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

The emotional journey continues. I have gone from excitement over my handling of the phone call on Wednesday, to grief over my cat, to numbness, to anger at Bob's denial, to once again seeking Bob's approval. I can sit as an outsider and watch my emotional movement and see the confusion and find it quite interesting, but when I go back into my self I feel a greater degree of anxiety than I have dealt with in quite some time.

The most recent feelings from today involved wanting to just have the chance to SEE Bob again. It suddenly didn't matter if I confronted him with anything. I just needed to go full cycle and see him and talk with him and forgive him and just be normal. While in that stage it sounded good but then I realized I was falling back into the 17 year olds running back to him on his terms.

The ache for his approval came up out of me as if it was 34 years ago. The mind is an amazing thing. I feel that ache for approval toward T.N. (who just responded to an email I wrote) to Tom, to Trey, toward these three pastors (funny that they all have names that start with "T", is there something godly about "T"'s. ) This drive for their attention and approval and affirmation is great at the moment. Should I give in to it and call Tom? It might help momentarily but it is so very deep and not about Tom at all that I am not sure if anything would relieve the anxiety inside.

I dread with a capital "D" going back to school tomorrow and facing Mr. J our retiring principal who has recently treated us with such control and disrespect. I am transfering my "crap" with Bob onto him, no doubt. My need for his approval has been dealt with to the point that I am not supposed to feel this degree of anxiety but I do.

Incredible, what comes rushing to the surface when we deal with the past. At least for the moment I can see what it is and that helps. It scared me when I realized earlier that my desire to just call Bob and ask to see him and to say to him that I forgave him and just talk about intervening years and deny the abuse had occured at all was the same thing I had done at 17.

How many times did he manipulate me that way? I remember 3 or 4 big ones but the whole relationship was built on his manipulation of my need for his attention.

I hope one day my own story of this week will help someone else.

Monday, May 7, 2007

No more heart palpitations since last Thursday but my anxiety level is definitely heightened. Our team or group of students (100 of them) go on a field trip tomorrow. There is less than 2 weeks left in school and everyone including the students are mad at me. I am making them do work on the field trip. Nothing I did satisfied my team. The principal called me stubborn for forking out my own $$ to carry water for the kids. Now the truth is that I am stubborn but I think that caring, responsible, giving, might as easily fit.

And the kids - they get cookies for doing the work as well as a grade. Bribery often works better than grades.

With Bob issues right under the surface, the loss of my dearest pet, and the stress of the field trip I am close to being maxed. Today was foggy. Not outside but inside of me. I actually do not remember much of the day. That is so strange. Other people do this, not me! Other people have panic attacks. Other people were abused. Other people have to take medication. Other people see a shrink just to try and be normal on the inside.

It isn't that I appear abnormal on the outside. I think I do quite well outwardly but those who know me best, know that times of shaking are not uncommon on the inside.

I plan on talking to John (shrink) tomorrow about my conversation with Bob and about my flipping back into approval mode. No, if this possible meeting is to do me any good, it will be because I am true to myself and the truth. I have at times continued to have a little anger but nothing like the past. It seems to dissipate with the passage of a small amount of time.

So that is my day. If you read this, pray that I survive tomorrow without my heart going off at 160 beats a minute.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

I saw John today and it took most of the hour to catch him up on all the happenings since our last conversation. Following all the Toms, Bobs, T.N.'s, Trey's, etc. is confusing. I see him again on Thursday to further process my emotions.

The best thing he offered me was to accept the anxiety the same way I accept the grief over Taffy. It is part of the process and normal. Just recognize it and accept it and remember this is not Bob being in control again - though it feels that way. It is a result of this situation and I am not the only one feeling anxious. This will impact more people than me. So I am working on it being ok to be anxious. I haven't done that kind of work in some time.

Also he raised a new thought. The rest of Bob's family might want to talk with me too. Egads! I don't want to be the harbinger of pain though I refuse to be considered the source of it.

After I left John's, I began to give some thought to the increased anger I am feeling toward the denomination. I don't want that. I chose to believe from the very little bit that I was told, that Bob had gotten more help and was more repentant. I feel angry that the reporting process of 5 years ago seemed to protect Bob and leave me out in the dark. It was unfair to not be told what he said. Other than telling me that Bob admitted the abuse, cried a lot, and had gotten some kind of counseling in the past I have been left to wonder. I have some anger to work through. I feel as if Bob was put first.

Also, I am realizing that if Bob does not agree to sit down with me that perhaps more needs to be done to make sure he is not taking interim minister roles without a full psychological evaluation. I think I may ask to meet with the state ministerial committee in order to talk with them face to face, bring them up to date on my conversation with Bob, and to request they require the evaluation if he continues in any form of ministry, allow me to talk with a psychologist about the situation, and then accept or deeply consider the report of the psychologists as to whether Bob is fit to minister or not. I can at least ask and be at peace knowing I have done all I can do.

This should have happened 5 years ago and had I known it is a common practice I would have requested it. The abuse was so predatory. My story is not one of a weak and gentle man who fell prey to his own needs. My story is instead of a predator abusing a child. Day 2 - lines were crossed when he kissed me. Day 3 - sodomy. Week 3 - intercourse. And a year of sexual and emotional abuse followed that.

Bob remains very sick in my opinion. His victim mentality and defensiveness speak loudly of a man probably incapable of repentance and thus dangerous.

I hope this is all uneccessary. I hope Bob can admit to the truth and admit it to his family. If he can do that then healing can lie ahead. I doubt it though. But God IS God.

Wed. May 9, 2007

I have gone from great excitement and passed through a period of numbness to find myself angry once again, not so much at Bob but at the denomination, and finally tonight I find myself very teary eyed and sad.

Three situations have occurred that left me disappointed in a pastor, but the pain comes from the power I allow them to carry. One promised me we would talk as soon as the weekend was over - but I have not heard from him. One seemed to judge rather than simply listen. The other just didn't give me the hug I needed this evening. :-) Obviously a minor issue.

I have realized that where pastors are concerned, I have a deeply worn and rutted road traversing my soul. Though, I try to keep pastors and situations out of those old ruts, I find it hard to do.

I know the answer is two fold. I must find my acceptance in God and in myself.

Facing Truth

Like truth, this picture is both intriguing and unsettling. My eyes can't figure what to focus on and my brain fights to find someway to digest it. It might be easier to move on and see what else I find to view, but then I find myself coming back more intrigued.

I must have been prophetic last night when I wrote about truth, because this evening I have a dose of truth to face and like this picture it draws me, but also makes me uncomfortable. It is not easy to look at, and bringing it into focus and cataloguing it somewhere in my brain requires work.

As I shared with my husband the "Why?" question that I want to ask Bob, I was faced with the possibility that he might very well answer, "Because you wanted it."

If he were to say such an assinine thing, I would reply, "Part of me did want it, but not only was I a child, but you were an adult responsible for my growth and care. Neither of which did your behavior display."

But, I am choosing tonight to look at myself, not Bob. The truth is that I did want it. I didn't want to be hurt or used, but I wanted the attention and to be special and I was willing to sacrifice what I knew was right for the immediacy of those feelings.

Don't confuse this honesty with any type of condoning of his behavior. It was abuse. No excuses made. Yet, if I choose to look at the whole truth, and to find my total healing I believe I must, then I must face the fact that I did want it.

After years of asking myself, "What is wrong with me?" facing the fact that something was "wrong with me" is confusing and difficult to wrap my mind around. I have fought to stop that question and replace it with truth, but more truth lingers around the edges.

When I was 14, my dearest cousin came to spend a week of the summer with me. Later I would spend a week at her house. We were close. One night as we talked as only girls of that age can talk when the lights are out, my cousin revealed something painful to me. Her brother in law was molesting her. I listened and then I advised, "Tell him if he won't stop, you will tell your parents." Not bad for a 14 year old, but that isn't where my mind was already racing. Much to my present shame, I rolled over and starting planning how I could invoke such attention. And that is exactly what I did the next several times I saw him. I got small doses of what I asked for and then when things advanced further than I wanted, I cried to God to get me out of it.

Why would anyone in their right mind seek molestation? Well, it wasn't abuse I wanted, but attention and to be special and sex is an avenue for such. Yet, I didn't care how I got it. Neither did I understand the damage it would cause me. I had this insatiable desire for attention and affirmation - the reason will have to wait for another post. That same longing and hunger has followed me to the present. I still feel it, though I am not driven to seek for it in unhealthy ways.

When I met Bob, the longing was very alive inside of me. I wanted his attention. What I had of it was intoxicating and soon became an addiction. Like the confusing picture above, truth was in front of my eyes, but it was not comfortable and I chose to look away. I willingly accepted Bob's advances. I made choices. I thought like a child but I still made choices. Choices that hurt me.

So tonight I walk that tightrope of facing truth and accepting my 17 year old self.

Oh, the picture is the reflection of a tree in the water, only the water is being blown by the wind and the straight line reflection of the tree is being warped and reflected by the small ripples and waves that distort the "mirror". Perhaps with that truth, you can see it for what it is, and appreciate its details.