Friday, August 7, 2009

Child Abuse

I started reading a new book today, a book called "Why I Jumped". It's an autobiography, the life of a woman struggling with a childhood of sexual abuse that led to so many other traumas ... Eventually she had her second child, leading to a case of such severe postpartum depression that she jumped off a bridge. Fortunately for her one policeman was fast enough, strong enough, to reach over the edge at just the right time and save her life, enabling her to recover and tell her story.

Already this book is heartbreaking, as the author recounts her abuse at the hands of her father, her helplessness, her hopelessness, and her fear. She was five years old.

There is a part of me who hurts for a certain person who is highly esteemed and quite beloved in my life, a person I have known all my life who has been through basically the same thing, and my heart breaks for what she must have gone through. But I am a five year old child's mother. She is beautiful, with an angel's face. Big blue eyes, sweet lips that are perfectly bowed and just a little bit more red than pink. Her body is strong and toned, truly a beautiful little girl.

But the thought of someone touching her, pretending to "love" her ... I am enraged that children in our world are forced to go through these agonies. Forced into accepting sexual abuse as normal life. Forced to be afraid and secretive instead of sweet and innocent. Forced to feel dirty and unclean.

And I am disgusted by those who stand by and look the other way instead of protecting those who cannot protect themselves.