I love the quote by Friedrich Nietzsche “What does not kill me makes me stronger.” The first time I read that years ago it blew me away. It was a truth that resonated to my core. I have survived many things and they have definitely made me stronger. I am proud to be a survivor. But there are days – MANY days – when I want to say, “Please God. I think I’m strong enough now.”
Apparently, though, God did not agree. Four years ago long repressed memories began to return . . . and my struggle to get stronger got a lot harder.
Let me explain that I have always had bad memories of my childhood.
- Severely beaten as young as 3 years old
- Family violence
- Dissociating during two traumatic episodes at 10 years old
- Molested at 11 years old
- Frequent verbal assaults that destroyed any concept of self esteem
It wasn’t until I married and realized that my husband’s stories of childhood were startlingly different from mine that I realized my childhood might possibly have been abusive. Growing up that never occurred to me. And with that recognition came the first time I told myself that if there was anything that I had forgotten then I never wanted to remember it. The things I remembered were bad enough. If I had forgotten something then it was bound to be worse. I never wanted to remember it.
I quickly discovered just how much worse they could be when the repressed memories started to return.