Finding the light amid the darkest childhood memories
Good counsellors can help victims of sex abuse cope with the inevitable lows, writes Gabrielle Cummins
ONE of the hardest parts for sexual abuse survivors is coping with the guilt. Frequent struggles occur with questions like: “Could I have avoided what happened? Did I play a part in allowing things to go on? Was it my fault?’’
I distinctly remember an incident 15 years ago. I was producing a local TV programme in Waterford at the time and one of the news features of the show that particular week involved covering the latest annual report from the Waterford Rape and Sexual Abuse Centre.
I was standing in the centre interviewing the then manager, the wonderful Sheila Vereker, about the report when a flashback came at me, completely out of the blue and I suddenly felt like I was going to vomit. Professional, journalistic instinct ensured that I kicked into survival mode and continued with the task in hand and went on to complete that week’s show.
Once it had aired though, I cracked. What followed was what I can only describe as some sort of panic attack or mental breakdown. I didn’t show up for work for days and didn’t even call in sick. Me, ‘miss goody two-shoes’, who was known for being an impeccable employee, suddenly didn’t care about anything. My boss and colleagues were leaving messages on my phone and I just ignored them.
My house-mates were away at the time so that made it easier for me to crawl into my own little world. Eventually, after a few days of numbness, I realised I needed help. Somehow I managed to pick up the phone to make that initial, terrifying call to Sheila at the Waterford Rape and Sexual Abuse Centre.
Anyone who knows her will agree with me when I say I felt like she was an angel on earth. Her instant warmth, basic human kindness and unique ability to make me feel relaxed and able to talk more openly is something for which I will be forever grateful. I had been to many counsellors before but this was the first time that I finally felt “this is the help I need”.
She gave me the strength to get back to work and return to functioning mode. But my mental health still needed a lot of attention. Sheila met me for a number of one-on-one sessions, free of charge at the centre. There was no obligation to pay but donations were welcome so every time I went, I left a nominal amount in the donation box. It eased my guilt that I was taking up this kind woman’s valuable time.
Inside I felt guilty because I believed that what happened to me was only minor, compared to someone who had been outright physically, brutally raped. In the course of one of my sessions with Sheila, I plucked up the courage to voice this concern. Her handling of it was genius. She dropped a bombshell question by asking outright: “You have a niece who is six years old right now. How would you feel if someone did to her what they did to you?” I absolutely cracked. I began bawling uncontrollably. If anyone touched my beautiful, innocent, happy-go-lucky niece the way I had been touched, I would literally break every bone in their body. I had never before visualised me as a sixyear-old and how vulnerable I was at that age. It wasn’t my fault. That reality stung.
This week, my own daughter turns six. The age I was when I recall my earliest memory of being molested. My beautiful niece has grown up into a gorgeous, intelligent 21-year-old college student. So, all these years have passed and I still go to counselling from time to time.
Mostly it’s just for a few sessions to remind me not to feel guilty and to help me cope with the harsh flashbacks that have come with raising a young girl.
This week was a rough one as bouts of crying came out of nowhere. That same gutwrenching disgust I felt 15 years ago when faced with the thought of someone touching my niece inappropriately has come back tenfold this week because of my own daughter’s impending sixth birthday. She is a stunning little human being who has the right to innocently enjoy every moment of her young life. Naturally, because of my history, my awareness and need to protect her is heightened but my husband and other family and friends keep me grounded. It’s important for them and me that I don’t allow myself to sink into over-protection mode that would have detrimental consequences.
I’m not a super mammy. I’m a mammy who was abused and that baggage will always be there in my daily interactions with everyone in my life; not just my family. Thankfully, as a result of the coping skills I’ve developed due to seeking out the right professional help many years ago, I’m better able to cope with the lows that are inevitable every now and then.
Last week was unquestionably difficult. Today though, I’m all cried out and a rainbow has emerged. I’m focused on an exciting week ahead. I’m taking my daughter to see the opening of Big the Musical.
We’re going to have a great party with all her other sixyear-old school friends and we’ll top off the week with a trip to the magical Waterford Winterval and the much-loved community panto. It’s going to be a good week, filled with my husband and I am creating positive, happy memories for our daughter with a little help from our larger-than-life two-year-old son. For that, I’m thankful. Gabrielle Cummins is chief executive of Beat 102-103. The radio station is one of a number of media partners of COSC’s (The National Office for the Prevention of Domestic, Sexual and Gender-based Violence) national awareness campaign around domestic/sexual violence
‘Last week was a rough one as bouts of crying came out of nowhere’