On October 17, 2013, CBS told the world that it is acceptable—if not actually good—to murder your parent if he or she is sexually abusing you and that that murder should not be punished. It is understandable. On Elementary's "Poison Pen," a daughter murdered her father. Sherlock figured it out when he was younger and kept her secret because he judged her not to be a killer, just a victim escaping the only way she could. Years later, a son did the same thing and it was acceptable for another to take credit for his actions so his choice to kill his father would not ruin his life.
It is not ever good, right, or salutary to murder another human being. A soldier, in his duties of his vocation, causing a death is not murder. A police officer, in the duties of his vocation, causing a death is not murder. Now, men are sinners. Soldiers and police officers—and all those whose vocations might result in the death of another—can also murder someone. But death is not always murder.
There is no duty of a child, no part of a child's vocation, to cause the death of a parent. Nor that of a child by a parent. Murder of someone who is sexually abusing another is not biblical and is it absolutely not justifiable.
Yes, sexual abuse is devastating. Sexual abuse can and does destroy lives. Still, murder is not a coping mechanism.
Watching the episode was inordinately difficult for me. I really like Elementary and wished that the writers of that show chose a different story to tell. A real story. A true story.
The first time I encountered the effects of sexual abuse in a way that I understood was on the show House, in an episode entitled "One Day, One Room." I actually bought the episode on Amazon.com. I bought it because I wanted—if ever the opportunity should arise—to have someone watch it and be able to say, "See? That's me."
The survivor did not want what others thought she needed. To me, it is not so much about proper support and care as it is how very important it is to remember that even in support and care it is possible to continue to silence the victim. It is my personal opinion that the writer of that episode had either experienced sexual abuse or was close to someone who had. To me, there is an authenticity to her thoughts and feelings, even the way that they were portrayed by the actress. I wondered, too, if she had been abused. Perhaps I am projecting, but this was not the stereotypical story, nor was it the stereotypical portrayal.
There is something I have thought ... believed ... I believe like recognizes like. Not always. Sometimes, when I discovered afterwards that I missed a fellow survivor, missed an opportunity to privately, gently tell her, tell him that she/he is not alone, my heart aches with an ineffable, nearly unbearable pain.
Recently, I met a stranger. I recognized the like and dropped a few phrases. She immediately leapt upon them, cradled to her chest, and spoke of her story. In truth, it was the quickest anyone had ever come out to me. And it was devastating because just a few minutes later, she pronounced the thought I also battled: the church is no place for sexual abuse survivors.
Truly, that is a post for another day ... one that comes after many, many more posts trying to help explain or explore the effects of sexual abuse. Suffice it to say that I supported her thoughts and feelings about that, but yet also spoke to her about the Psalter and how incredible it is to be known by God ... even in doubt and despair, even in anguish and confusion.
I read a few to her.
I read until I saw a tipping point that spoke of too much.
I read for us both and stopped for us both.
Over the past several weeks, I have struggled with how to write about the Elementary episode and how terribly discouraging—defeating, actually—watching it was for me. Will the world ever change?
I've mentioned before just how frustrating it is to think about the decades The Courage to Heal has been available and how even in the medical and mental health arenas so very few have taken the time to learn about the effects of sexual abuse, to learn about healing, to learn to stop thinking about, treating, and calling sexual abuse survivors as victims. To see them as people, not as the effects of sexual abuse in their lives. SIGH.
So, I have been writing and deleting and writing and deleting again. And then I watched a show. Actually, I watched six episodes of a show. All I could think was why. Why did I not know of this? Why don't others know of this?
If you would like to learn something of the real and true effects of sexual abuse, buy the book. As an act of mercy to those millions of sexual abuse survivors living in our country, buy the book. To see a living, breathing survivor struggling with the effects of sexual abuse in her life and the lives of those around the survivor, watch these: The Judds Docuseries, Episode 1; The Judds Docuseries, Episode 2; The Judds Docuseries, Episode 3; The Judds Docuseries, Episode 4; The Judds Docuseries, Episode 5; and The Judds Docuseries, Episode 6.
I was gutted.
There was this one moment when I understood something so utterly clearly. You get to see the survivor disassociate. You also get to see the shock and hurt and anger of someone facing that disassociation. The reason this was helpful to me was that someone who was abusive to me would become infuriated whenever she started lashing out at me and I ... well, I understand now that I was dissociating from her anger. Watching the scene, I could see what that person saw in me. The utter disengagement. It is hard to describe, but I understood what that person must have seen in me.
I am still not yet over that moment.
I am still struggling to grasp just how much I still am numb and absent.
I am overwhelmed and afraid and yet less lonely.
In the series, there are many, many, many examples of the effects of sexual abuse. I think the survivor's childlike behavior at times would irritate others. Only I saw the little girl she still is. In many ways, survivors of sexual abuse, especially those at a very young age, stop aging then. A part of her is still that little girl whose family member was sexually abusing her.
Too, what you hear, many times, is how even after years of working with her therapist, and after admitting the truth of her life, stepping away from all the pretending she did, her journey of healing has just begun.
Oh, how I wish I had the words, had the skill, to take a viewer through each episode to say, "Look here, did you hear that? Listen! Watch! These are the whys and wherefores this survivor is battling and discovering and discovering and battling."
Such pain.
Such beauty.
Such victory.
Would that it were those in my life would watch, would learn, and would, perhaps, understand me a bit better. SIGH.
Even so, though such should never come to pass, I am reminded that I am not crazy, nor am I alone.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
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