Dissociation

There is no memory of him, his face, or our interactions before the abuse. I only remember the places, objects, and my own actions. The trauma erased his face from surely happy memories, but not the other details. I separated the abuse from the surroundings in my mind from the very beginning—a remarkable coping mechanism.

The dissociation started from the first incident. I remember the details up until the occurrence--and that is when my mind began to hide the trauma from my conscious. Filed in the back of the brain, shoved down in self-protection, my memories were so clear and vivid before. Most of my preteen memories are of incidences of abuse, so many fabricated stories just to get me alone in the bathroom with the belt.

It's the secrets. The negative core beliefs your mind creates to simply survive. The exhaustion from constant fear. The threats even at age 42. Abuse never stops until you excise the person or people from your life, is the lesson I finally learned the hard way.