WARNING : This article was written by an adult survivor of sexual abuse. She is in the initial stages of remembering the abuse, after surpressing the memories for years. Be aware this article may be a trigger to survivors. If it feels to difficult or uncomfortable to read, bookmark this page, and come back when you feel ready.

 The shower water went cold. Typical isn't is? When you're trying to wash away the remembering that the water goes cold so you're left with no choice but to go on remembering.......

I can't begin to express what this remembering has done to me. The foundation I'd built my life on, the WHO of who I am has been ripped apart -- I don't know who I am.

Yet deep down I sense this might be a good thing -- if what I'd built was on the values of a sexually abused little girl then how real could it have been? It's probably good to start again.

I keep wondering if it really happened. I mean, how could I have no recollection until I was 26 and how come, if it did happen, I can't work out who it was?

My father continues to enter my thoughts when I ask that question ....... who was it?

But today when he was here and he forced a hello kiss I felt an intuition "it wasn't him" but then why did I feel, when I wiped that kiss from my face, that it was him just forcing himself on me all over again. And why, when he said "I know you hate kisses" did I turn to say "and I wonder why that is?" just to get his reaction before he shoved one at me and I couldn't get the words out.

It's just too horrific to imagine isn't it? That your father may have done that to you -- it can't have been him, it had to be someone else.

I wish the knot and pain in my stomach would go away, I wish that the constant need to vomit would stop, I wish I could shove the remembering back where it came from. Shove it back down and continue how my life was two days ago -- continue living the lie and be happy dammit, BE HAPPY -- that's what we were always told as kids, BE HAPPY, at all costs.

I wish the pain would stop, the nightmares and the debilitating fear of going to sleep -- I can't bear the thought of going to sleep tonight.

Still, it explains alot. It explains the feeling of being violated whenever I am around my family and the inability to cope with being woken through the night by my son and begging his sweet little self to just go back to sleep, rocking and begging and crying for him to please, please just go back to sleep.

I suspect that I was woken through the night for an entirely different reason long, long ago and that I begged that little girl to just please go back to sleep -- or did my sister and I huddle together in the darkness and she whispered that to me -- please, please just go back to sleep.

Where did that come from? Did she? I just don't know, surely I would remember that? Did we even share a room, I don't remember.

It explains the five year black spot in my childhood that I can draw not a single memory from, which I always thought was normal until my counselor told me we should 'explore it'.

And above all else it explains my anger, which stayed with my even after months of therapy to deal with it and my father's physical abuse -- it explains why my anger never left but returned in another, more insidious form.

If I hadn't peeled back the first layer of anger then I wouldn't be here now -- and right now, I wish with all my heart that I wasn't, but the more I wish that the tighter the knot in my stomach turns, and the more I need to vomit.

I'm sorry this happened to me and that puts me right back where I started, what if it didn't? And if it didn't, then what is this? And the knot tightens again, and reminds me it's real.

And I sit here and all I have the energy for is to be thankful for my son --for him still loving me and knowing I'll have a chance to be a better mother and thankful for my husband, for his having no idea what to do but doing what he can anyway -- because right now they are all I have that I know for sure is real them and the knot in my stomach.

Thankful to my husband, the man I have to now go and tell how hard this is going to be, and that's it's OK if he doesn't make it, that it's OK if he leaves -- because I understand, he has a choice, I don't have one and I wouldn't wish this on another soul. Whether I like it or not, the remembering has begun.

About the author : The author of this article is a survivor of child abuse, and recently began remembering what happened. These memories have been completely surpressed until now. This article is based upon the author's healing journal. To protect the author's privacy and anonymity, all comments regarding this article should be addressed to WomanLinks.com and will be forwarded to her.