I found these photos the other night while snooping around at my mom’s.
I have scratched out faces to keep them private and respect this.
The two visible are of me, I’m guessing around 6 years old. The other person visible is the man who molested me after this photo was taken (maybe a year later). He was my godfather. His name is Jim Garrison and the last I heard, he lived in Maryland. I trusted him, blindly, as young children often do. I never made that mistake again. My innocence was taken from me.
It’s been 23 years. I am just now beginning to process the pain, the grief, and the lack of support that I’ve endured. What he did to me was only the beginning of years of internal hate, punishment of my own body, nightmares, assault by other men, fighting with my mother, excruciating therapy, suicide attempts, and now I struggle in my marriage with the only man I trust.
When I found these pictures, my first instinct was to shut down. Numb myself and escape. I fought that instinct. It’s one that has helped me survive but one that is impeding my healing process. I have to feel the emotions and pain as they surface and then part with them. This is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I’ve gotten to where I can now speak about what he did to me. I’ve gotten to where I now blame him and not myself. My 7 year old self. I’ve worked so hard and there’s still so much more to do. I believe this will be a lifelong process.
You are capable of healing. You are so much stronger than you think. Don’t let these pieces of shit win one more tear, one more cut, one more second of pain. Heal yourself and know that they are horrible, terrible, unhappy sacks of human garbage and you’re so much more than them.