Christina Enevoldsen

by Christina Enevoldsen

I could never take a vacation for more than four days. I didn’t understand how people could be happy just “wasting time” or how they could prefer fun and games over tangible results. Hard work was my fun.

It was frustrating when my son and daughter were young and I tried to get “important” things done while they wanted me to watch their new ball-catching skills or to admire their fingerpainting. As they got a little older, I learned that good parenting required nurturing a child’s emotional needs, which meant “entering into his or her world”. I really wanted to be a good mother, so I did my best to engage in play, to enjoy the moment. But all the time, I watched the clock and thought, “I wonder if they’ve had enough”.

In their teen years, it was easier to relate to my children and enjoy our activities together. By then their interests were more serious and adult-like. I was also learning the balance between work and play for my own benefit. I adjusted my schedule in an attempt toward balance, but recreation was stressful; my thoughts drifted back to, “I wonder if I’ve had enough.”

My children are grown now, but a few months ago a friend expressed the challenges of balancing her role as a mother of children still living at home and working toward her goals. I felt relieved that I didn’t have that challenge anymore. In the midst of that thought, a little girl’s voice interrupted me, “I’m still here.” I immediately knew it was my inner child. I still had a small child at home.

On my healing journey from childhood sexual abuse, I’ve been very aware of my inner child. She was the one exposed to adult experiences and left with the adult responsibility of protecting herself. She never got a childhood. She was never allowed to express herself. Her pain, fear and anger still awaited expression, but so did her playfulness. Part of my healing is to nurture her—nurture that stifled part that missed the carefree abandon of play and the wonder of discovery. Her little voice was tugging at my skirt, reminding me of her presence, asking me to consider her needs.

One of my greatest sources of pain is to know how many times I turned down invitations to play with my children. Finally listening to my own inner child, hearing her longing, gave me some idea of how much it must have hurt them. Even so, I knew if I could go back to change things, I’d still be the same person I was then–driven toward accomplishment. My years of attempting balance didn’t do anything to relieve me of this inner struggle. I was way overdue to confront whatever it was that was keeping me there.

I saw myself as a two-year old. My parents were caring for my infant brother and I needed something. They laughed at me and said, “Do you think you’re the only one who matters? You’re not the center of the universe.”

I felt shame for needing. My parents’ response told me I didn’t matter. Since I didn’t matter, I had to do something so people would want me. I needed to produce tangible results to prove I was important. It became the way I earned my right to live on the planet.

My parents may not have filled my needs, but I’m not bad for having needs. No matter how I am treated, I am important. My value doesn’t come from anyone else; their opinions don’t change my value. My value does not go up or down based on what I do. I am valuable because I exist.

Knowing that truth released the kid in me. I’m liberated to have fun and be silly. Now I’m happy to cooperate with my inner child and provide her the playful expression she never had. I read Nancy Drew books and play Charlie’s Angels at the store with my friend. I give in to spontaneous urges to jump on the bed or spin across the room or doodle in my coloring book or make up funny endings to classic stories. Fun is FUN!

Christina Enevoldsen is cofounder of Overcoming Sexual Abuse, an online resource for male and female abuse survivors looking for practical answers and tools for healing. Christina’s passions are writing and speaking about her own journey of healing from abuse and inspiring people toward wholeness. She and her husband live in Los Angeles and share three children and four grandchildren.

[read Christina's story here]

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Christina Enevoldsen

by Christina Enevoldsen

“Steve Austin, astronaut. A man barely alive. Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world’s first bionic man. Steve Austin will be that man. Better than he was before. Better, stronger, faster.” Oscar Goldman in the opening narration to the “The Six Million Dollar Man”

If you managed to miss this classic show from the ‘70s, it was about American astronaut and Air Force Colonel, Steve Austin. When Col. Austin suffered a nearly fatal plane crash, the United States government replaced his legs, right arm and eye with bionic parts that gave him super-human abilities.

I thought of Steve Austin today when a fellow survivor asked me the question, “When do all the effects of the horrible things we’ve lived through ever end?” It’s a tough question I’ve asked myself a time or two. I’ve been at this healing thing for years, yet I’m painfully aware of how far I still have to go.

That’s why I thought of The Six Million Dollar Man. He was so injured that he shouldn’t have survived. I feel that way about my childhood. As I look back and realize that to go through those horrifying experiences without anyone to turn to for safety or comfort seem too much for anyone, much less a child.  I survived, but my very being was mutilated.

Unlike Col. Austin, I didn’t have the government’s help to rebuild me. I’ve had to do that job myself. It’s probably cost less than six million dollars, though it’s taken its toll on my bank account, physical body and all of my relationships.

Even though Steve Austin is a fictional character, I wonder if he ever questioned why the government thought his life was worth that much money. That’s a big chunk of change to sink into one person. He may not have ever questioned the value of his restoration, but I sure have. In Steve’s case, he had to repay the government by capturing their enemies. I started out with that motivation too. I began my healing with the belief that my self-improvement was for the benefit of other people.  I’d be a better wife, mother, grandmother, and friend.  It was okay to start there, but my healing has taught me that I’m worth every penny, every moment, every drop of energy I invest in healing, even if it’s just for me. I’m worth it.

The former astronaut’s rebuilding was relatively fast. He had surgery and a short rehabilitation and training and POOF, he was fixed. My process is taking a little longer. I’m not fully operational, but I’m far from the wreck of a life that I was. I’m no super-hero, but with my restoration so far, I feel more whole and self-aware than most people I know who haven’t been through trauma. I think staring death in the face has allowed me to fully live. I don’t have bionic vision, but I do see things with better clarity—not just suffering of others, but solutions to the suffering. I don’t have bionic limbs, but my healing has made me see how strong I really am. I don’t care how long this process takes. I’m committed to finish. I’m already better than I was before. Better, stronger, faster.

Christina Enevoldsen is cofounder of Overcoming Sexual Abuse, an online resource for male and female abuse survivors looking for practical answers and tools for healing. Christina’s passions are writing and speaking about her own journey of healing from abuse and inspiring people toward wholeness. She and her husband live in Los Angeles and share three children and four grandchildren.

[read Christina's story here]

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Windows and doors, set. Beep Beep, Beep Beep. Motion detectors, set. Beep Beep, Beep Beep. Alarms set. Beep Beep. Beep Beep. My husband had an alarm system put into our home and I have to say, it helps me feel safe. He is ill and getting weaker and his thoughts were for me. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to protect me physically if someone were to break in and wanted to make sure I could sleep at night. It does give me a sense of security knowing that if someone were to walk through the garage or jiggle the windows and doors an ear ringing alarm would sound and the police would immediately be called.

I started to think how wonderful it would have been to have an alarm in me when I was a child being sexually touched by family and friends and as an adult being raped and beaten by my ex husband. To have an alarm go off and the police called every time I was touched forcibly, sexually, physically and emotionally would have been worth every penny. Instead of being at the hands of my abusers, they would immediately be under arrest with validation by the police. I wouldn’t have to justify their touches to others and I wouldn’t be afraid to testify against them because the alarm and the police would be my witnesses. All the fears of exposure would be gone and, in a way, I think I would be a martyr or maybe even a hero.

As we all know, it isn’t that simple. I couldn’t stop my abuse as a child and didn’t stop it as an adult. The windows and doors to my soul were open and my abusers walked in and took what ever they wanted. Like thieves in the night they took the best of me. As they took what they wanted, they also left physical as well as emotional scars. Trampling on and scattering my self being. Trust was thrown in a corner, self-esteem was thrown aside, love was stomped on and boundaries were tossed out the window. My heart and my soul looked like a crime scene. I could have called the police to come and take fingerprints and give them a description of my abusers, but the damage was already done. An unrecognizable person, battered and bruised, scarred for life.

After many years and a new awareness for my own safety, I started to clean up the mess my abusers left behind. I put my soul, my heart and my physical body back together. But now, I rebuilt them with supernatural strength and an alarm system built to my specifications. Boundaries are being put back together with super glue, self-esteem with unbreakable thread, love is covered with a shield and trust is clamped with rivets of steel. My personal alarm system. The more pieces of my soul that I find and put back together, the more my alarm system covers. It’s a personal guarantee that the windows and doors to my soul are covered with bullet proof glass and laser-beam motion detectors. I can see out and others can see in, but I have a sign on my forehead now that reads, “ Beware! Alarm System Built by Patty – Covered Head to Toe, Inside and Out.”

Patty Hite is one of five facilitators of Overcoming Sexual Abuse. A survivor of emotional, physical and sexual abuse, Patty has been tenaciously pursuing her healing for over thirty years. She’s a passionate advocate for all survivors and dedicates her life to inspiring emotional wholeness in others. As a former victim of spousal abuse, she’s delighted to find true love with her husband of ­­­­five years. She’s blessed with four children and six grandchildren.

[read Patty's story here]

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Listed below are some of the indicators of sexual abuse. Please note that one or more of these do not necessarily indicate abuse, but are merely indicators of possible abuse. There may be a variety of reasons for these symptoms.

Sexuality

1. I began masturbating at an early age.
2. As a child, I used to insert objects into my bottom, and I do not know where I learned to do this.
3. I seemed to know some things about sex even before they were explained to me.
4. I have never really been very interested in sex OR I’m preoccupied with thoughts about sex.
5. I can’t stand to be touched in certain sexual ways or areas of my body.
6. I have a strong aversion to certain sex acts OR I have a need for particular sex acts.
7. My experiences with sex are degrading or short-lived.
8. I freeze up or can’t say no when someone wants to be sexual with me.
9. I feel threatened when someone expresses sexual interest. All pursuit feels like a violation.
10. I have a sexual dysfunction, such as premature ejaculation, inability to have an orgasm, or pain during intercourse.
11. I feel as if there is something wrong or dirty about my sexuality.
12. There is only one way I can have an orgasm or one position that turns me on.
13. I have fantasies of sexual abuse during sex or sexual fantasies of dominance or rape.
14. I am or fanaticize about being a prostitute, stripper, sex symbol, or porn actress.
15. I have an erotic response to abuse or anger.
16. I have had promiscuous sex with strangers, but I’m unable to have sex in intimate relationships.
17. I tend to sexualize meaningful relationships.
18. I am compulsively seductive OR compulsively asexual.
19. I cry after an orgasm OR am impersonal and shutdown.
20. I cannot be sexual unless I am the aggressor.

Sleep

1. I am afraid of being alone in the dark or of sleeping alone.
2. I had or have recurring dreams.
3. I often have nightmares and night terrors (especially of pursuit, threat, or entrapment).
4. I remember vividly one or more nightmares from my childhood.
5. I have difficulty falling or staying asleep.
6. I sometimes wake up feeling as if I am choking, gagging, or being suffocated.
7. I have awakened from sleep trying to attack my partner.
8. Sometimes I fear or sense that someone is in my bedroom.
9. I often wake up frightened at the same time every night.

Fears and Attractions

1. I am frightened of one or more common household objects OR I have a strange affection or attraction to a common household object.
2. I would never go into a closet or any dark, confined space.
3. Basements or certain other spaces terrify me.
4. I am afraid to be alone or to leave my house.
5. When I was a child, I cowered in corners and liked to hide.
6. I hate going to the dentist more than most people.
7. I neglect my teeth.
8. My mouth seems repulsive to me.
9. I hate to have someone touch my hair.
10. I hate water on my face when bathing or swimming. It sometimes feels like I’m suffocating.
11. I am always alert to the possibility of sexual assault.
12. I don’t like making noise during sex, or while I cry or laugh.
13. I carefully monitor my words or my volume, especially when I need to be heard.
14. I am afraid to take risks OR I frequently take dangerous risks.
15. I’m afraid to get too emotionally close to anyone OR I get too close to people too fast, before I even know if I can trust them.

Eating Disturbances

1. I have had periods in my life when I couldn’t eat, or I had to force myself to eat.
2. Sometimes I binge on huge amounts of food.
3. Certain foods or tastes frighten me or nauseate me.
4. I am seriously underweight or overweight.
5. I gag or choke easily.
6. I make myself throw up, take laxatives, or exercise exhaustively to control my weight.

Body Problems

1. I do not take good care of my body.
2. Even if I think something might be wrong with me, I don’t go to the doctor.
3. I don’t feel connected with my body.
4. I hate the way my body looks.
5. I avoid looking in mirrors.
6. I wear clothing that covers up my body, either too much clothing or baggy clothes.
7. I wear clothes even while I swim, bath or sleep.
8. I need more privacy than most people when using the bathroom.
9. I have odd sensations in my genitals or rectum.
10. Whenever I think of a certain person from my childhood, I get a sensation in my genitals.
11. I sometimes feel physical pain or numbness associated with a particular memory, emotion, or situation.
12. I avoid going to the gynecologist, or I dread it terribly.
13. I have gastrointestinal problems, gynecological problems (including spontaneous vaginal infections), headaches, arthritis or joint pain.
14. When I was a child, I had frequent stomachaches or headaches.
15. When I was a child, I wet the bed.
16. When I feel threatened I sometimes feel detached from my body, like I am watching a scene from a movie.

Compulsive Behaviors

1. I sometimes hurt myself in a way that marks or sears my body.
2. I have an addiction to drugs or alcohol.
3. My drug or alcohol use started before I was thirteen.
4. I do some things to excess and I just don’t know when to quit.
5. I can’t seem to control myself when it comes to spending money or gambling.
6. I try to control things that don’t really matter, just to have control of something.
7. I need to have the feeling that I am in control of myself, others, or situations.
8. I have a strong need to protect what’s mine.
9. I have often taken foolish risks with my safety.
10. I pick at my body, often without even thinking about it.

Emotional Signals

1. I space out or daydream.
2. I have an extensive fantasy life. I imagine relationships or identities that I don’t have.
3. I feel the need to be invisible or to make as little trouble as possible.
4. I instinctively know and do what others want or need without having to be told.
5. I don’t know why people would want to be nice to me. I have a high appreciation of small favors by others.
6. I often feel like I have no right to set limits or to say no.
7. I seem to have a pattern of being victimized, especially sexually.
8. I have a pattern of having relationships with a much older person, which started in adolescence.
9. I feel the need to be perfect OR I feel the need to be perfectly bad.
10. It is difficult for me to recognize, own, or express anger.
11. I am constantly angry.
12. I have an intense hostility toward an entire gender or ethnic group of the perpetrator.
13. To smile or laugh means I am losing control.
14. I often feel like I am being watched.
15. I get nervous when I am being watched.
16. I tend to be secretive.
17. I don’t like surprises.
18. I startle easily.
19. When I am in crisis, I go into shock and shutdown.
20. Sometimes really violent or strange pictures flash through my mind.
21. I feel a sense of doom, as though my life will end in tragedy or disaster.
22. I get nervous when I am happy and tend to sabotage it.
23. I have the feeling that if I am happy, it’s not real or won’t last.
24. I have unexplained bouts of depression or I cry without knowing the reason.
25. The pain in my life seems too big compared to my known history.
26. I have a strong sense that something terrible has happened to me or that I carry an awful secret.
27. I have the feeling that no one will listen to me, though I have an urge to tell OR a strong fear that my secret will be revealed.
28. There is a blank period in my childhood when I can remember nothing.
29. Other people seem to have childhood memories at an earlier age than I do.
30. I feel different from everyone else; I feel that I’m not real and everyone else is or vice versa.
31. I feel marked, like I am wearing a scarlet letter.
32. I have multiple personalities.
33. I have the feeling that I am crazy.
34. There have been times when I had suicidal thoughts or attempted suicide, including “passive suicide”.
35. Nothing seems very real sometimes.
36. I am not in touch with my feelings, I am usually numb.
37. I identify with abuse victims in the media, and often stories of abuse make me want to cry.
38. I have a desire to change my name, either to get away from my abuser or to take control through self-labeling.
39. I have a strong need to believe that nothing bad happened to me. “Maybe it’s my imagination.”
40. I tend to minimize the bad things that were done to me. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Adapted from symptom checklist from “Repressed Memories” by Renee Fredrickson, Ph.D. and Incest Survivors’ Aftereffects Checklist from “Secret Survivors” by E. Sue Blume.

Indicators of Abuse in Children

1. The child masturbates in public.
2. The child began masturbating at an early age.
3. The child plays with toys in a sexual way.
4. The child touches others’ private parts.
5. The child talks about body parts in a way that seems inappropriate.
6. The child has genital discomfort or rashes.
7. The child has had blood in his diaper or underwear.
8. The child has frequent stomach aches, headaches and sore throats.
9. The child wets the bed or wets himself in public.
10. The child has regressed to earlier stages of behavior.
11. The child wants to kiss and hug all the time OR has an intolerance of physical contact.
12. The child is irritable or has outbursts of anger.
13. The child is often worried.
14. The child withdraws from others.
15. The child doesn’t seem to identify with his own age group.
16. The child is no longer interested in formerly loved activities or hobbies.
17. The child seems to take on the parenting role.
18. The child’s appetite has changed.
19. The child’s personality has changed.
20. There have been behavioral changes at home and/or school.
21. The child has trouble concentrating in school or every day activities.
22. The child is afraid of going to sleep.
23. The child has trouble sleeping.
24. The child has nightmares.
25. The child is afraid of being alone.
26. The child has a fear of separation.
27. The child has a specific fear of males or females, or a specific person or place.
28. The child is afraid to have water on his face.
29. The child cowers in corners or frequently hides.

Children’s checklist adapted from Woar.org