Warning: this post contains abuse and trauma read with care

Prologue to my book..not grammatically checked yet! lol

“It is my first memory.” I was sitting back in the soft chair in my therapist’s office; a single tear rolling down the right side of my face.

“Go on,” urged the therapist.

I closed my eyes and began slipping into the past, going so far back that image, light and dark, and only basic emotions could be understood. “I was almost two,” I said, listening to the children playing outside that day; it was early summer in 1981. “It seemed that all the kids in the neighborhood were out that day. But there was one guy that could not smile in spite of the beautiful sun. I noticed him pointing at me and I pointed back, as little kids do. But, quickly I went back to playing some running and chasing game. Then he....” I began gulping and another tear was escaping and began rolling down my face. “...he walked over to me and took me by the hand and pulled me away from the other children. He continued walking, pulling me through his garage and into his back yard. I was so small that i don’t think I even uttered a word. He pushed me up against a very large tree and...pulled down my... my pants.”

“Being so small,” the therapist interrupted, “were you still wearing a diaper?”

I began to shake my head, and felt a lump forming in my throat. “I was potty trained when I was 15 months old.”

“Wow, smart girl, okay, go on.”

“He stood there for a long time pressing me firmly to the tree. Then, with one quick swoop he took my pants down, (long deep breath). He was holding me to the tree with one hand on my chest. I said, ‘hey!’ and tried to bend over to pull them back up, but he was too strong for me to even partly bend down.” Suddenly my vision was so blurry with tears that I wanted to stop.

“We have to get it out Symmi.” She said. “This is a safe place; there is not any judgment here, only acceptance and listening. Take a deep breath,” she said cautiously trying to sooth me. “Go on dear.”

“His face was angry; he just stared at me for the longest time. Then he began rubbing my bare legs. I grabbed the tree bark and even at such a young age knew that i had to brace myself for something. I don’t know really what i thought, but i was scared. I started to cry, he slapped my face. So I stood there completely at his mercy. He began touching me again, and then undid his pants … and then.....I just remember looking down at these ants that were climbing the tree, going into this little whole down at the bottom of it. They were big black ants carrying something white and yellow. Oh how lucky those ants were. I admired them. I hated them!! I wanted to be one of them.” The lump in my throat had grown and was nearly choking me. I began to sob, as if I were that two year old child. For all these years I had held the tears in, i swore never to let them out. Yet, here they were coming out in battalions. And I had an odd feeling. I knew I was an adult, but it was the small child inside of me crying, and I thought, only for a split second, that like Alice in wonderland, I was soon going to drown in a sea of my own tears.