Repressed Memories
- Nichole Wilkinson
- Oct 7, 2018
- 3 min read
“They can have my body but the cannot have my soul,” stating this over and over again, hoping to convince herself this was the truth. This is what she told those that she helped. But could she ever get past her own scars? It all began to plague her when she was away at college. Those memories seeping back into her mind, like a toxic black ink, slowly taking over. The more they came, the more she drank. She was the life of the party. Everyone wanted to be with her and go where she went. Over the years as she ventured in and out of sobriety, it would get worse, and then it would get better. Life was a roller coaster…it always had been and it always will be.
She repressed the memories of her childhood trauma. They were far back in a closed box in her mind, never to see the light of day. At 18 years old, in college, she had an experience that caused the memories to flood back into her mind, like a horror show. She thought she was losing her mind. Could this have really happened? Was she just making it up? She doubted herself and didn’t believe it could be true. She ran home and woke up her mother in the middle of the night. “Mom! Mom! Something horrible happened when I was a child!” Celeste was out of breath, she could barely form a sentence, her mind was racing. Her mother sat down next to her and held her. She sobbed as she recalled the abuse she endured as a young child. She felt like she was crazy. These were long-time family friends, people they spent holidays with, people that were entrusted with children...the mother was a school teacher…they had two daughters…could the father really have done this?!
All of a sudden Celeste recalled seeing her sister there…oh no! It happened to her little sister as well! NO!!! She told her mother, who ran into her sister’s room and woke her up. Samantha rubbed her eyes, confused, and asked her mother what was going on. Her mother told her, “I need you to wake up. Celeste is here. We need to talk to you. It’s very important.” Samantha sat up in her bed, wondering, now what was going on with Celeste? She always seemed to get herself in trouble. What could it be?
Their mother sat down next to Samantha while Celeste was still sobbing in the other room. “Samantha, did something happen to you girls when you would go over to The Taylor’s house?...something bad…?” Samantha took a deep breath. How could their mother have known? She never told anyone. “Yes, mom, Mr. Taylor sexually abused us.” Their mother couldn’t breathe. She knew Celeste to be a bit dramatic and dabbled a little too much in the partying culture, so she did not think it could be true. “Are you sure, Samantha? This is very serious.” Samantha replied, “Yes mom, it happened to us. I just never said anything because Celeste never said anything.” They sat there sobbing as Samantha drifted back off to sleep.
Their mother entered the room where Celeste was curled up in a ball hysterical. “Honey, I’m sorry, but your sister confirmed it. She said it did happen to you guys.” “NO!!!!!” Celeste let out a large sob, continuing to say NO, this can’t be true! Their mother was able to settle her down and she drifted off to sleep. The next day would be the beginning of a long journey of recovery, fighting for the truth, and healing from this deep wound.
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