Since January 6th, 2021, I have battled a prolonged period of intense diarrhea (IBS) along with other debilitating symptoms. It is now February 28th.
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On January 6th, 2021, a vicious mass of hatred destroyed everything in its path in an attempt to overturn the presidential election results. That day I had planned to watch the historic process of formally counting the final votes of the Electoral College. It was historic all right. Instead of watching a phase of the peaceful transition of the presidency, I watched the United States Capital building being seized by civilian terrorists. Though I was physically a safe distance away, the surge of panic and fear that tore through my being was very real. I was being gang-raped all over again.
The men screaming, the violence, my inability to get away, their determination and lack of recognition that I was a human being - nothing would stop them.
The physical distance and the many years that have passed since the abuse occurred did not mute the effects of what I was seeing. To my mind and my body, it was happening now. The effects of childhood sexual abuse have imprinted their ugliness on my body and mind. I cannot will my body not to react nor with reasoning, my mind.
Complex-PTSD is a cruel taskmaster.
So far, I have shared with you some of my earlier years of abuse. But when *p lost interest in me because I had grown too old for him, he did not abandon me as most abusers would have. He gifted me to my next abuser. *M destroyed me in ways a teen would be able to physically accommodate. Brutality, drugging, trafficking, and gang rapes were just some of the practices he used to build his reputation. So were kidnap and murders. There is a Netflix documentary, “The Keepers”, that gives a glimpse into his disturbed world. He was an extremely dangerous man capable of the most heinous of acts. P moved m into his rectory (my parish at the time), and together, they laid the foundation of the bizarre realm that functioned unnoticed within and without the walls of my Catholic high school.
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For me, there is always an undercurrent of vigilance, of fear, of never feeling safe. There are times when my past experience of trauma hijacks my perception of the present. Sounds, physical sensations, smells, what I see, and even taste can be rerouted causing me to respond to what was instead of what is.
This undercurrent exists because when the abuse was occurring, it proved too much for my little mind to bear. It “fled the scene of the crime” or “dissociated” while my body remained to endure what was happening to it. My brain formed a network of reactions corresponding to the information it was receiving. So, when my brain receives similar information now, it follows the path of connections already established.
As a child, I suffered from bouts of **debilitating stomach pain and its related symptoms. Now, as an adult, and can identify its cause, I can undertake the challenge of reprograming my brain to network a path that responds to current stimuli appropriately.
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That may take a while longer. While checking the link to the AOB, I see that the name of one of the men who raped me was on that list. Until now, I did not know he was a priest.
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* "P" and M's" names appear on the Archdiocese of Baltimore’s credibly accused List of Priests and Brothers Accused of Child Sexual Abuse. https://www.archbalt.org/child-and-youth-protection/priests-and-brothers-accused-of-abuse/
** For more about Complex-PTSD, please go to https://www.healthline.com/health/cptsd#risk-factors