My Initial Incest Experience Cartoon Trap
This happened when I was four years old. The memory has only become clear now. now it is crystallize with time sequence tactile feeling and emotions feeling as well as smell. I verbalized at its current status which helped to raise that status only this weekend. I find I can revisit these memories now in the current state of completeness. This is a blessing and it is healing.
To remember and to tell the story releases the shame and betrayal and anger and sadness and pain these things that were transferred from he perpetrator to the victim can now be transferred back to from the survivor to the perpetrator by telling the truth the reality to the world.
When I was four years old, my sister and I went to stay with our maternal grandparents in Arizona where they were living at the time in a mobile home that was in a remote dessert setting. I remember trying to set a cartoon trap for and catch one of the many jack rabbits. I put a box tilted upward with a stick holding it upright and a string tied to the stick so that I could pull the string and the box would fall trapping the rabbit inside. I baited the trap with a carrot. I remember now it must have been crude but it was my own , built from cartoon memories. I foru year old boy amusing himself in isolation.
One night probably he first night my sister and I were there in the midst of the excitement of sleeping in a mobile home on bunk types beds and with the sleep of a four year old no cares no worries just feeling safe secure and loved. one night that night I was awakened stilled in sleep and yet awake. sleeping on my belly so as to allow easy or inviting access I guess. A sudden something was on my a pressure and a pressure inside that hurt there is the smell of jergens lotion his lubricant of choice and liquor oh God now I remember the liquor smell. Greasiness of his body. I am pressed a weight on top and immobilized by these and yet his member is inside me and I have no awareness of what it is. I feel the fabric of my pajamas the sheet no made greasy greasiness overwhelms the pillow slip I remember weight and stuck and being half asleep and trapped I am immobilized before I can awake to escape. this its self is prison this itself is abusive victimization that steals a bit of self before boundaries are even defined the freedom I have is stolen from me as I awake to conciseness in the torture chamber of his body. terror and confusion awaking like that oh its grandpa its ok but it is not what is the doing. then the whispering you are my whore you are mine you will be mine always you will never be loved like this don't you love me. do not tell our secret or I will leave you alone trapped in this desert. I will anger now as I cannot escape his anger, greasiness fabric I immobilized as I awake. And of course I will cut you into to little pieces and throw you in the desert.
So I remember sights and sounds and smells and the rush of emotions I just re-experienced as I write the words. the greasiness is him oily and the tactile feeling him inside but I do not know it is him or coming from him The rush of emotions is trauma confusion mainly terror shame hurt physical and mental pain and anguish and betrayal all and more in a rush that overwhelms the mind and left me immobile in the bed with all that is left of grandpa this wetness inside me and between my legs and now soaking into me and the sheets as I see his nude body walking toward my sister's bunk I close my eyes in the traumatized state, like the rabbit I hoped to catch in my cartoon trap, which is a form of shock a shocked state in the position he left me until the rush of emotions subsides and I remember that I control my body and can move again where I wish. and I can now begin processing what just happened to me on my own by myself..
And for a brief moment I am again that little boy as I step outside to smoke a cigarette to harm myself for that is what smoking is. These emotions are not clearly yet differentiated but are balled up still and yet I am four years old as I write. with adult time pressing and work to do and people to love as I follow the commandment of my God to love one another, but no love and no forgiveness to grandpa. There is no forgiveness in my heart only a prayer to ask God for mercy on him and that he not tie the millstone around his neck. This is all I will do and it is enough. The action of my God the God of us all to grandpa is none of my concern. This is God's business. I am not God, forgiveness is not mine to give.
As I become mobile the confusion and anger set in and laid atop of all is the feeling gradually returning of a little boy safe secure and warm, but the price of security is the transference of shame and betrayal and loneliness that rightly belongs to grandpa but which will stay with me the rest of my life until I release by telling the truth not in secrecy but to the world. the truth of this evil monster who in an act of power that took a sexual form providing some sort of something for him. I know not what I do not care what gets perpetrator's off it is not my business to figure this out I do not care what arouses or gets them off it is not my concern it is nothing nothing to do with me a piece of meat for whatever it is that motivates the perpetrator.
I divide my attention between writing this and publishing http://www.stmichaelgodsknight.com/.
copyright 2013 Fred Celio
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