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.

Some time ago I wrote The Remembering, an article about flashbacks of childhood sexual abuse. Nothing much else has come back to me since then -- until last night. It has been a strange and surreal feeling having in the back of my mind that I was sexually abused but having no real knowledge of who did it, when, where, how ... it's something that I need to move past.

I feel like all that I can be, the potential of the success and joy I can have lies under the need to get to the bottom of this and deal with it and to know what happened to me. I can feel in my chest a bubble, a bubble of all that I can be that sits under who I am waiting to explode, yet it remains there untapped and unexplored.

I am often frustrated that I simply can't remember it and deal with it -- I try all the time to remember what happened to me and nothing comes unless there has been a trigger and even then there are no real memories simply vague sensations.

Last night I watched a television program on a little girl having flashbacks to being sexually abused and her memory of the ceiling in her room and it triggered those same sensations and I tried to remember, hoping that it would bring it all back.

My counsellor told me, back when I still used to see her, that she would not allow me to undergo hypnosis nor take the drug that will bring up those memories in clarity because what I was experiencing was a process and that I would remember what I could handle, when I could handle it. Which is all fine and well for those who are patient or don't want to know but I want to know -- process or not I want the drugs or the hypnosis so that I can find out what happened and just deal with it.

Last night my son woke through the night after I was asleep for only a few hours -- he's never been a good sleeper, often up through the night crying for attention. Sometimes he's easy to settle and other times not -- but he's always up through the night.

I've never been good with him waking through the night -- I hate getting up with him and I am often cold and distant. Uncomforting at best, downright mean at worst. "Just go back to sleep", "please, please why won't you sleep". "damn it, why do you wake up all the time". There are no night time lullabies in our house.

I am a good mother in the daylight but if he wakes me at night I struggle with my parenting and last night I sat by the side of his bed in the dark, listening to him breath after I had settled him. With my sensations of abuse fresh and flowing but no real memories I suddenly felt the truth of it all.

It's taken me almost three years to work out that I don't like getting up with my son through the night because I can't stand being woken through the night because, almost certainly, I was woken for an entirely different reason in the dead of night when I was a child.

The thing with our children is that they will slap you in the face with what you need to GET. I just didn't get it, I never realised what the lesson in his wakefulness was, I just rattled off things like "I need my sleep, I'm a cow if I don't get my sleep" and other poor excuses for my behaviour.

And the lesson repeated, repeated, repeated -- until I got it.

And I get it -- my son was showing me that I had a fear and aversion to be woken through the night and I realized sitting by his bed listening to his soft gentle breath in the dead of the night that even before I knew that I had been sexually abused, even before I had that first flashback, my son knew what I needed to get.

Our children show us what we can't learn in any other way. Children are given the parents they need to be what they need to be and parents are given the children who will teach them the lessons they just must get.

Now that I get it, being woken through the night by my son will no longer make me angry -- instead, it will be a time to sit in the quiet, listening to my greatest teacher's soft whispers in the night and listening to him fall back into a quiet slumber while I reflect, while I listen and pay close attention to the sensations and feelings in my body and learn quietly what happened to me.

My process continues, at quiet times in the night -- which is about the only time I can take it. And I thank my son for showing me that.

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.