|What is Truth|
When I was a kid, I had a lot of problems. In the 2nd grade, I started wetting the bed again, after having toilet trained successfully early on. My parents responded by sending me to the hospital, where they conducted many invasive and painful tests, including the very memorable experience of having a tube shoved down my eurethra, so they could force-fill my bladder, then torture me by seeing how long I could hold it. The assumption my parents made was that I must be physically defective. That was usually their solution to any "problem" they had with me. But these days, if you do a quick search on regressive bedwetting, you'll see that it's a potential indicator of sexual abuse. Go to this page, and you'll find a long list of potential signs of abuse. I won't be more specific about which other signs' criteria I meet, I'll just say that it's more than a quarter of the criteria listed, so your chances of guessing are pretty good.
Maybe my parents didn't know what was going on. I know I still don't know. But I know something happened, something I don't, or won't, remember. There's a lot of things I've done that have given me reason to hate myself, but I'd like to believe that whatever started the psychological snowball rolling, it probably wasn't my fault. I'd like to believe that. Probably need to, if I'm ever going to grow beyond it.
What confuses me the most about it all, though, is why my parents seemed to never see any of these signs, or dismissed them. I mean, my mom read Psychology Today religiously, as far back as I can remember. So I find it unlikely that she wouldn't have had some exposure to the concept that many of my behavioral problems were indicators of potentially serious abuse. They sent me to a psychologist eventually. I wonder, did she suspect/know, and never get to a point in therapy where we could talk about it, or did she just not realize. We moved around so often, so it's hard to say....But my first boyfriend, Brian, when he came home with me for christmas, and my mom showed him the photo album, he said it was obvious, that something had changed in me at some point in childhood, that I'd lost my smile. I wonder if I'll ever know why.