The Making of a Childhood Snuff Film

Ed. Note: I have been thinking about this post since yesterday.  I wrote it earlier this afternoon, but I didn’t publish it.  Why?  Because it’s pretty damn grim (and I say that full-well realizing that I have posted several grim entries), and I wasn’t sure I wanted could stomach having other people read it.  However, I have decided, with much trepidation, to publish it.  Fair warning, it’s graphic.  And, I may pull it at any time.

Last warning:   Very grim.  Proceed at your own risk.

A girl of seven is pinned to her bed.  She is wearing a white flannel nightgown, and she is thrashing as best she can.  Her black hair is cut in blunt bangs, so it cannot cover the fear in her eyes.  She is mouthing something, but it’s not audible.  She can’t move her legs at all, but that doesn’t stop her from trying.

He is on top of her, one hand grabbing each of her wrists.

“Don’t move,” he orders her, trying to get her to be still.

“No, no, no!”  She wants to scream it at the top of her lungs, but she knows better.  Instead, she whimpers it softly, hoping he doesn’t hear her.  He does.  He shoves her wrists against the bed and presses his full weight upon her.  He puts his lips to her ear, making her wince.

“Don’t say no.”

He has his cock pressed between her thighs, and he is pushing it into her.  This time, he will not let anything stop him.  No matter how much the girl struggled, he continues.  When he is all the way inside her, he stops.  Then, she almost blacks out from the searing pain.

I had been holding off the latest flashbacks for weeks.  Every time it would start to play, I put the brakes on pretty damn quick.  I knew what was next.  I knew the logical progression.  I could not handle it, so I put the blocks back up.  I was at taiji yesterday, and I cannot keep the shields up and practice taiji at the same time.  It was during chi gong that I started flashing back.  The above came to me in movie-form.  There was no off button or mute button to mitigate the effects.  It’s the same as always.  Late at night, in my bedroom, dark, but able to see what it happening.  Then, the flashbacks continued while I practiced a few ba gwa moves.  Thankfully, I was practicing my straight-palm strikes so I got to hit the wall during the following.  It wasn’t nearly enough.  The only saving grace is that the following came to me in still-shots and not movie-form.

Snapshot #1

The man is on top of the little girl.  He is holding her down by her wrists as he fucks her.  “Don’t move.”

Snapshot #2

The man is on top of the little girl.  She is crying.  He has his hands on her face as he fucks her.  “Don’t cry.”

Snapshot #3

The man is on top of the little girl.  She is trying to scream.  He has his hands around the base of her neck and is squeezing as he fucks her.  “Don’t make a sound.”

Final Snapshot

The man is on top of the little girl.  She isn’t moving or crying or screaming.  He has his hands on her shoulders as he continues to roughly fuck her.  “Don’t you ever say no to me.”

That was the moment he killed that little girl’s soul.   Everything that she was, everything that she might have been–gone.  He broke her wings deliberately so she could no longer fly, and he didn’t even care that he had broken her.

It eats away inside that he did this to me without even thinking about it.  Usual caveat about not being 100% certain that the actual memories are real, but that is fading with each flashback.

He took something beautiful and innocent and twisted it into something ugly, rancid, rotting, and toxic.  He might as well have poured a bottle of acid on my soul and called it a day.  Corroded.  Rusted.  The prototypical mold tossed in the garbage.  No replica or duplicate can quite match the original, and each incantation is a a simple shell of the previous one.

Shame.  Rage.  Anguish.  Despair.  Hopelessness.  Numbness.  Unrelenting pain.  It won’t stop.  I can’t stop it.  I don’t even know hot to assuage it.  The ugliness of my soul mocks me.  There was something irrevocably lost in the violation, and I can’t even mourn the loss because I don’t know what it fucking was.

I wish the tears would fall.  I wish I could just grieve and let it go.  I wish I could scream and rail, which might also afford me release.

Instead, I retreat further and further into my shell.  My edges are so raw that the tiniest pressure sends white-hot flames coursing through my body.  The heat of actual fire comforts me even as it burns me.  I busily erect new walls and defenses so that I can try to not feel the enormous pain/depression/anguish/what the fuck ever that threatens to take me over.   In my previous post, I talked about Eros vs. Thanatos, and I wasn’t clear that I hadn’t made a decision yet.  It was, at that point, 90%-10% in favor of Eros, but the pendulum is wildly swinging the other way.

Thanatos is calling my name, and I am willing to listen if it would just mean the end to the memories, the flashbacks, and the unrelenting pain.  I may even try to stuff the new me back into the old me’s corpse.  I don’t see the point in remembering all of this and experiencing it once again; I really don’t.  The little girl I was is dead, and nothing is going to bring her back.  May she rest in pieces.

Addendum: JC’s Hurt is still my theme song.

15 Responses to The Making of a Childhood Snuff Film

  1. Minna, I have no words for this. It is truly a horror. My heart goes out to you. All I can say is that you have chosen eros over thantos so many times, and I am rooting for you to keep going now. I am sorry that Taiji has started to become the place where these nightmares keep appearing. I also hope you’re almost to the end of these memories.

    Your father may have insisted that you play the role of thing, of meat, but you are one helluva strong human being.

  2. Minna, I’m so sorry for the hell you went through as a child. But as ugly as the experience was, it did not make you ugly. It may have denied you your innocence at too early an age, but it did not make you ugly. Choolie is absolutely right in that it isn’t a question of choosing thanatos; you keep choosing eros. It isn’t a question of surviving your experience, because you already have, and as Choolie said, whatever happened to your soul when you were seven, you built the beautiful new soul that you display in these posts.

    You were hurt very badly as a child. Don’t make it worse by hurting yourself. To do so would be to give the victory to the one who hurt you; to do so would be to crush your own soul, and that would be a shame. While Johnny Cash’s version of “Hurt” is a beautiful song, you have a new theme song, remember?

  3. Minna — *sigh* I knew this one was coming, just hoped it wouldn’t. The objective me agrees that it was the logical progression and there’s no way he would’ve stopped until he got what he wanted. But the emotional me wants to dive in, scoop up that little girl and take her home under my wing where she would be safe.

    I can’t protect the girl you were then, but I can stand with you now while you face this. You’ve stood with me as I’ve faced my own demons. Just remember that what he did does not define, or even create You. Only you can do that.

    Now, because you and I are always blunt with each other, I will reiterated my not-at-all-humble opinion to you that I don’t think the trip to Taiwan is a good move right now, while all of these flashbacks are still so fresh, so sharp. I’m not sure about Taiwan’s extradition agreement with the U.S., but I just don’t think that prison-orange is your best color.

  4. Thanks, Kel! I’d have to say that right now if I went to Taiwan and encountered your dad, I’d be coming home in prison orange, if I came home at all (is execution legal in Taiwan?). I agree – staying home is best. You brother and niece will be OK.

    I’m really trying to offer an ear too. I know how hard it is to ask for or accept help. I won’t push, but please consider the offer.

  5. There was something irrevocably lost in the violation, and I can’t even mourn the loss because I don’t know what it fucking was.
    It was innocence he took. And he’s a mother fucker for taking it.
    Please tear your plane ticket up. You don’t need to put yourself through that and he is the kind of man who will NEVER accept responsibility for what he did.
    The recovery is all yours, because people like that, never hold themselves accountable.

  6. “That was the moment he killed that little girl’s soul.” Sillywabbit is right, it was innocence he took, violently. But your soul is still yours. It is what keeps choosing Eros. It is what keeps pulling you and this “Shame. Rage. Anguish. Despair. Hopelessness.” into the light. Only you can kill your soul.

    My vote: Don’t go to Taiwan.

  7. Choolie, as you know, doing taiji while holding back is not very productive. So, it makes perfect sense that the flashbacks would happen during class. As I have told you, if I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t allow this to happen. I am very glad to have you in my posse. Believe me, I will call on you to take advantage of your ear when you least expect it.

    Gregory, thank you for being my fiercest supporter and for believing in me when I have little faith myself. I so want to believe that choosing eros over thanatos is worth it. It’s hard when the pain is so great, though. That’s when I count on those around me to remind me, as you have, that I have already survived the experiences once. Oh, and thank you for reminding me of my new theme song. I needed that.

    Kel, my twin from another mother. I can always count on you to give me a big hug while simultaneously prodding me to face my demons. I can’t tell you how many times you have dragged me, kicking and screaming, back into the world of the living. You and your Kellions are so many kinds of awesome. Thank you for holding my hand as we walk on this path together.

    Whabs, ah, sister of my soul. You are my battle angel, and I am so grateful to have you in my life. Once again, we will walk our similar paths together. Safety in numbers and all.

    Crystal, thank you for your gentle voice of wisdom. I can tell that you have some experience in choosing eros over thanatos. I am grateful that you are prodding me to choose the former over the latter.

    And, to all, I have no idea what I’m going to do about Taiwan. I have my therapist appointment tomorrow, so I will talk about it with her. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I mean it when I say I couldn’t get through this without your support.

  8. I’m late weighing in on this… so I’ll just agree with what everyone else said.

    And add that the little girl is still alive and needs your strength and love. You can give that to her and she can give it back to you.

    I send you both peace & hope against the demons.

  9. Aw, Alex, you’re making me tear up (in a good way). I will try to be good to the little girl because no one else was. Thanks for your continual support. I feel it in my heart.

  10. You can be my symbiotic warrior angel.
    In Native traditions, women can not be warriors, but I have this crazy, vet, NDN friend who tells me he dreams of me riding a horse in my warrior paint ready to do battle. He said I ride a horse, many hands high and that he has painted hand prints on him.
    He said I am amazing.
    Funny because in a way I can see it, but not like he does. Yet, I can see you as he sees me, so I would like to pull you into his vision of me and have you be my symbiotic warrior angel riding a horse, many hands high, with painted hand prints making you look all the more fierce and menacing in your own warpaint.
    Maybe one day I’ll find my war face and show you in a post.

  11. whabs, I will be your warrior any day. I can be fierce when I wish. One day, I may even be able to be fierce for my own sake.

  12. This is a little late…but I wanted to send you healing thoughts. I am almost speechless – I am so, so sorry you went through this, and am blown away by your strength and courage as you process it. (Even when you’re not feeling strong or courageous, it’s there.) You deserve only good things, and I’m glad you have so many people telling you that.

  13. Minna, You don’t know me,but I wanted to say that I think you are truly brave to process all this and share it as you work it out.

    I also vote no on the visit to Taiwan. Sexual preditors of any sort won’t ever admit the damage and suffering they cause. Not without loads of intensive interventions,and even then,the chances of that happening are miniscule. You’re at a delicate place in this process,you owe them nothing,even if they are your parents.

  14. A Mom Anon, I do know you. You comment over at BJ. Welcome to my blog, and thank you for commenting. I need all the support I can get during this process. I truly appreciate it and your opinion on my Taiwan trip. Please feel free to comment any time.