Silence...

On April 19, 2012, Grey's Anatomy tackled the effects of child sexual abuse in "The Girl With No Name."  For a one hour drama, I believe that the writers did a solid job of showing the important of sexual abuse survivors to have supportive care that is built around their needs.  I also believe the writers were able to provide a few insights as to how the experience, thoughts, and needs of a sexual abuse surviver might not make sense or even fit with the experience, thoughts, and needs of the friends and family of a sexual abuse survivor.

For example, in this story, a young girl was kidnapped and held hostage for twelve years.  When she escaped and was rescued, her parents wanted nothing more than to touch her, hold her, be with her all the time.  But that was not what the now teenager sexual abuse victim needed.  First and foremost, she needed to learn that she had control of her body and her environment and so her wishes needed to be respected.  This was something the parents struggled mightily with because it was in direct conflict with their own desires and the calling of their vocation to protect and care for their daughter.  Sometimes, though, caring for someone does not look like what we might think it should.

One scene in particular resonated deeply with me.  It came after the young survivor had been tasked with getting her own food in the cafeteria, to practice interacting with others.  She tried several food stations (soup and pizza) before simply going over to the self-serve station.

Meredith:  Hey how are you feeling?  That was a big deal.
Holly:  Not really
Meredith: I don't know, braving that cafeteria line is pretty major even for those who haven't been—
Holly:  —kept in a basement for twelve years
Meredith: —who haven't been through what you have been through.
Holly:  Why do you do that?  Talk around it? The therapist and my parents.  What've I've been through is being kicked and raped and slapped and starved.  I mean, I get it.  But it was my life.  And I didn't get talk with him about my life with my parents, and now I don't get to talk anyone about about him.
Meredith:  But you can talk about him.
Holly:  No, I can't.  You'll think ... you won't get it.
Meredith:  Try me.
Holly:  He wasn't only bad.  Sometimes he was okay.  He'd let me go upstairs and ... we'd watch stuff together.  Movies.  And it was like it was normal.  And when I came back here I turned on the TV and there was this movie on that we watched together and I started to miss him.  And I know that's bad. And I must be sick and don't tell the shrink that I said anything 'cause she ... 'cause she's gonna ask me how I feel about it.  And I don't know.  All I know is that I should be happy that I am here and not there.  But sometimes I'm not.
Meredith:  That's okay.  However you feel is okay.

Ah, by now you have seen me write several times know how blessedly merciful it is to hear the word "okay."  Here it was a thing of beauty.  But what struck me is how the young survivor felt like she could not talk about her experiences, about her life.  She felt like her life is a life that no one wanted to hear.  And that is a truth.  It is very, very rare to encounter someone who is willing to hear about your life of abuse outside a counselor's office.

Think for a moment about what that communicates.

We tell young children that what happened to them is not their fault and is nothing to be ashamed of, but we tell adults that their experiences are burdensome and difficult for others to hear.  To speak of those things is too intimate, even inappropriate.  There really is shame and if shame, blame.

In another scene in the episode, the orthopedic surgeon is asking the young survivor about a fracture in her pelvis.  She wants to know how the injury occurred, I suppose, so that she can make a plan for the repair.  The surgeon asks the survivor if she fell or something.  At first, the survivor says that she doesn't know.  But then she mentions that it could have been when she had the baby a few years ago.  She thinks the baby died.  She doesn't know, but she couldn't walk for a long time afterward.  The survivor's parents are horrified, with her mother eventually fleeing the room.  The surgeon manages to control her reaction and agrees that is probably when the injury occurred.  The young survivor is puzzled at the reaction she sees.  She asks if she should not have said anything.  It is later on in the episode that the conversation about not being able to talk about her life occurs.  And it is something that should not be true but is.

If you go by statistics, where I live there are over 63,000 sexual abuse survivors.  Yet I have not been able to find a single sexual abuse support group, a single place where I could go and talk about my life without it being inappropriate or burdensome for others.  There is only one place in the city where sexual abuse counseling is free, and that place has such a revolving door of counselors that trying to seek help is daunting, if not really impossible.  It is not common to make a livable wage  offering free care for sexual abuse survivors.

The shootings in this country highlight the miserable state of mental health care.  America simply does not have enough mental health personnel, nor do we have enough coverage.  And what coverage and/or care there is: 1) is often limited, 2) can be cost prohibitive, 3) and is often too generalized to be effective.  Sexual abuse survivors need specific care that does not treat them as victims.  Again, not enough medical personnel are familiar with the effects of trauma on the brain and body, much less familiar with the effects of sexual abuse.  Would that it were The Courage to Heal were required study and trauma training required coursework for all emergency, medical, and mental health care personnel!

One of the biggest factors of why sexual abuse is such a prevalent and persistent problem in our country is silence.  Survivors are taught to remain silent, taught and/or threatened.  Families keep their secrets.  Businesses and institutions cover up instances of sexual abuse to protect reputation and Even the church.  And if you think the problem lies solely or even primarily within the Catholic church, you are sorely mistaken.  It is everywhere.

But even when a person does speak out, does break the silence, the victim often learns to remain silent afterwards.  To not talk about his or her life, his or her experiences, freely or even with friends and family lest they become too burdensome to others.  To not talk about his or her life even with a pastor.

Silence is one of the devil's greatest weapons in felling the spiritual life of sexual abuse survivors.  At least, it is for me.  The reason I believe this is because silence protects and even propagates the lies he has woven in the sexual abuse survivor's life, through the abusers and those who have encouraged silence.

Sexual abuse teaches wrong lessons.  Those lessons are very, very difficult to unlearn ... to re-learn rightly.  With regard to faith, the thoughts that grow out of the experience of abuse, especially that at the hands of parents or others in authority, confuse and obscure the Gospel.  For a girl abused by her father, to try and talk about God the Father in such a way that does not trigger painful memories or emotions is difficult. Worthiness, shame, guilt, doubt, despair ... all and more make it difficult to remember what is true.  True about salvation.  True about sanctification. True about your body.

For someone struggling with emotions, or rather lack thereof, it is difficult to separate them from the call to fear and love and trust God.  What does that mean? This is not a question for a counselor, but for a pastor.  And one the answer of can and will help the sexual abuse survivor until and after she learns the psychological answers to help her understand her whys and wherefores.

In both, healing comes in understanding and in changing the lessons learned, changing the thoughts about them.  Sometimes, changing the thought starts with having a script to follow, to rehearse.

In the episode, one such script is the script of:  That's okay.  However you feel is okay.  It is okay not to have feelings. It is okay to have feelings.  It's okay not to know or understand what those feelings are.  Feelings are not facts.  Part of the learning is learning new facts, such as how fathers should be with their daughters and that daughters are not to blame for what happens.  Another fact is that rape is not sex.  Daughters do not have sex with their fathers.  Fathers rape their daughters.  An important distinction that can be arduous and painful to first grasp and then believe.  Learning new facts can be long and difficult.  So, having the script  That's okay.  However you feel is okay.  can help you get through the confusion, the struggles, the many steps backwards in the midst of those forward.

A script I was recently given is Jesus came for the dead.  You see, it is difficult to think about all that time of disassociation, of being numb and absent.  It is difficult to not only feel that you are dead inside, but to also fear you actually are dead inside.  That you have no love or fear or trust of any kind.

Jesus came for the dead.
Jesus came for the sick.
Jesus came for the lame.
Jesus came for the blind.
Jesus came for the weak.
Jesus came for the brokenhearted.

All of those things a surviver might possibly believe about herself as she struggles to heal are the very reasons Jesus came.  The very reasons He comes still.

It isn't helpful to tell a survivor she shouldn't feel guilty.  That she feels guilty is not even the most important problem.  The problem lies with ferreting out the whys and wherefores behind that guilt and teaching her how those thoughts and experiences belie the truth.  That is the work of mental health counseling.  But in the mean while the truth remains that Jesus comes even for the guilty and the ashamed and the unclean.  Jesus comes and forgives, forgives even the doubt, the struggle of faith that can lie beneath those emotions.

You feel dead inside?  Jesus came for the dead.  You think you might actually be dead inside?  Jesus came for the dead.  Jesus came for the helpless.  Jesus came for the hopeless.  Jesus came for all wounds.  Jesus came for all.

For the Christian sexual abuse survivor, spiritual care and support is equally important—if not more so—as psychological care and support.  Sexual abuse is the playground of our foe, who will leverage anything and everything to keep you ensnared in his lies.  Thus, it is vitally important that survivors are allowed to talk about their lives, to talk about the secrets and the fears and the shame so that those felling arrows of our foe can be extinguished by Christ crucified for us.

May the silence around sexual abuse that exists even in the church be soon shattered.


Lord, have mercy.  Christ, have mercy.  Lord, have mercy.

Murder is not a coping mechanism...

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.