Fourteen years ago I found out my husband (at the time) molested my children who told them, “Mom knows all about this. If you say anything, she’ll get mad and leave and never come back.” He was a closet alcoholic/cocaine user. When my oldest daughter told me what was happening, I confronted him about the abuse and he tried to kill me. That was the first time I heard “The Voice” since I was a kid, who told me what to say so I could escape. Two years later, both my parents died. A year after that, The Voice came after me for real. It was so terrifyingly vicious, I was afraid to die because I believed what it told me…I was damned for eternity, and it would be even worse for me if I took my own life. The voice took over and I signed myself into the hospital. After a month on the inpatient ward, I lied so they’d release me. Medication didn’t help and it made me nauseous. I started really listening to what it was telling me, and I began to see the flaws in reason. I dethatched from it. I went back to school and got a masters degree.
My coworkers and friends know nothing about my past. My family acts as if they’ve forgotten what happened. My therapists never seemed to know what to make of me. Sometimes I feel very alone because nobody knows the real me. They see a nice, hard-working professional who loves her job and helps take care of her grandchildren.
Hi Pianogal. I’m sorry you went through so much abuse. There are so many of us.
My kids will always have scars, and I try not to carry that guilt – that I was blind to what was going on right under my nose. They are doing well, and they are beautiful people.
Yes, I still hear the voice, but it no longer scares me. After months of hearing vile B.S. I learned I could “tune out” when it was disrespectful or mean. I laughed out loud once when I heard, “You have absolutely no redeeming qualities.”
This enemy is a bully. And all bullies are cowards. Thanks for listening.
Before all of it started, I was a house cleaner. Ionic, huh?