I don't remember how old I was, but we were living in Antioch and I was gradeschool aged. One of my mother's cats, Junior, was attacking a chipmunk. I "rescued" it from him, only to have it bite my finger twice. I ended up at the doctor's office facing a shot of some kind in case of Rabies.
They asked me to hold still, be brave, but that it would hurt. I couldn't do it. In the face of being asked to allow an adult to approach me and hurt me, I went berserk. I flailed, hid, ran, screamed. It took my mother and multiple staff members to hold me down and allow the shot to be administered. Afterwards, I told my mother that it didn't hurt that much. She scoffed and treated me as if I'd been ridiculous.
But I was a child and had zero ulterior motive. It is only recently that I understand why I probably had that response. I remember trying to be still and brave for a second and then starting to hyperventilate. It was a blind, uncontrollable, almost PTSD type response to the idea of allowing a man to approach me and hurt me with my permission.
If I haven't said it before, I will say it now. I believe that I was molested or raped by a babysitter's boyfriend while we lived with Billy.
I do not need to qualify or prove this to anyone. I need to process and heal. It is difficult and I keep seeing my childhood in a new light as I realize that I was most likely a victim. I do not blame my mother.
