Exit Point Two

The image on the right I drew for my book Road Signs. It's an image of a self retrieval, which is in simple terms, like retrieving a very vivid memory from childhood. While viewing this memory, the child became alive, like viewing a real flesh and blood person. Thus the image.

While writing Road Sign Two, I didn't want to talk about molestation. I felt ashamed to talk about it and it made me cry to write anything down. Then I had this dream that I was going on a journey and I had this little kid I was babysitting. I took her into a public restroom and left her in a stall and told her I'd be right back. There was a guide in the dream who told me I shouldn't leave the kid there, I should take her with me wherever I went.

I didn't listen to her and I thought I'd be gone just a short while. When I returned to the restroom, the child had gotten out of the stall and been molested several times. My hand flew to my mouth in a scream OH NO! WHAT HAVE I DONE? She was so innocent and cute and I felt so awful to have left her in danger.

I got down to her level to examine her for effects of what had happened. She didn't know of any effects. She was smiling to see me after I'd been gone, she was like a little pet that just wanted to follow me everywhere and I promised her, we would go everywhere together, and I'd never leave her again.

This dream told me I was to write of molestation candidly in the book and never be ashamed or afraid to speak out against it, even if it hurt to talk about it. And this is what I recommend to all those whom I come in contact with who are survivors like me. So that we have public awareness now in this century, and so we can make the planet a safer place for children coming in. As sadly, the statistics are 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 7 boys will be, or have been molested before they reach age 18. Most of the time, the perpetrator is in their own family.

I now understand being molested can cause depression and you may not even be able to tell you are depressed, until you learn to deal with it, either through counseling or some healing path that you pick for yourself. I'll tell you about my sister briefly, before I get on with my 2nd brush with death.

Sis was not quite 40 when she passed over. We sat at her table once and discussed in hushed tones, the fact that we'd both been molested by the same man. It was her genetic father and my foster father. She was essentially my half sister. I don't know why I asked this, but it seemed important at the time. I asked if she was able to enjoy sex even though she'd been molested.

She sadly shook her head from side to side and replied, no, never have I gotten pleasure from the act. I'll try to communicate and explain why as I go on, that I believe molestation can ruin a person's life, and their own marriage in many cases. I'll get into that with a 3rd exit point hub.

Exit Attempt Two: As an unloved child, emotionally neglected I was starved for attention as noted in my first Hub. I had just started kindergarten the first time it happened. The details aren't really that important. At the time I believed he was my real father, and at age 29 or so I breathed a sigh of relief to discover we had no blood relationship. As near as I recall, I was molested 3 times.

I soon learned to stay away from home after the first incident. I would hide for hours in the tall pepper trees alongside the busy highway several blocks from home. I would go to school and then after school hide in the trees until I saw mother's vehicle in the driveway. Telling mother about what happened only made her confused and she would not protect me. Many years later, she told me all southern born men do this to their kids. She was making excuses for him.

One day mother came home early to my surprise. I was afraid to cross the busy street even though the light was green for me. I just stood there petrified of crossing in front of the stationary cars. Soon the people in the cars began to tell me it was ok, I could cross in front of them and they waved me on. I was afraid of getting run over.

It's ok, we won't run you down! They called out. Feeling very grown up and accomplished I walked on shaky knees in front of them, then I broke into a run feeling exhilarated.

I walked the block or so to home but I was on the wrong side of a 4 lane highway and there was no more signal lights now. Mom was outside pulling some weeds from the garden. I got excited that maybe we could talk, or I could help her pull weeds. It was great to be able to come home. Mom! I shouted Hi! She glanced up then went back to weeding.

Not making excuses for me mom, but she was the sole breadwinner at the time; she had a lot on her mind all the time with 3 kids and a man out of work.

I saw only one car in the road and I was not able to ascertain the speed of a car at that young age. I thought surely my legs would carry me swiftly across the 4 lanes before that distant car could get to the front of our house. As slow as it seemed to be coming, I just couldn't wait for it to go by as mother might go back in the house and I so wanted to bond with her.

We hadn't had a chance to talk as I'd been with my foster parents for a year or so. Now was my chance! All I could see was my mother, and then I was running fast.

Now I'll tell you what my thoughts were as I recall it all vividly. The car began braking and this screech was heard as if in slow motion and never ending. All I once I became aware this was the end of my short life. I was certain it would hit me it was already so close, just another second, then I would be going back to heaven. The surprise factor shocked me however and I froze in the car's path, like a deer caught in the headlights.

You can make it, run! There was this decision factor. Then the depressed state and the sense of rejection I felt from mother I at once recalled.  All these thoughts and feelings were happening int the space of perhaps 3 seconds. I thought, no, I'll just stand here frozen. This life is not worth living. There's no love here. I'm 5 yrs old and it's all over. Mixed with those thoughts, I had a happy feeling that I would be released from enduring this life. The boring hours spent in the trees was something I knew I'd have to do the following day and maybe forever and there was no reason to live unless I could get mother interested in my welfare. I watched in slow motion as the car came within inches of me and stopped. I could hardly believe it. The driver had skidded right up to me and I was still alive.

I feel that this was a suicide wish because of the molestation factor. It was mostly unconscious, then when death was in sight, it became conscious as two voices arose in my mind. The first said to run for it, the 2nd said go ahead and die, this life is not bearable.

That would be the survival instinct at variance with the emotional body. Yet I prefer to think I had an angel working it that day, to make the car stop so that's how I view surviving, that forces were with me because I had a job to do here. I later develop a belief system about exit points. I can see in my mind a group of counselors. Life counselors I've always known for centuries. I can hear them explaining I can come home anytime if it gets too tough and they show me the designated exit points available.

This makes me more courageous, to consider, I can leave if I can't take it anymore. Since I had that nanosecond decision to run or freeze, I had opted to leave. Some other factor then saved my life as I had braced myself for the impact and was willing to die and even in some way, prepared to die.

I also recall mother screaming, for she was certain also death was at hand. I liked hearing her scream. As I said, I would do anything to get her attention. Even die.

The man came from the car shaking and upset he had almost hit a child. I felt he had agreed to play this part in league with  the accident planning committee in the sky. Mother asked why I'd stood frozen? "I don't know" I'd said and since she said it accusingly, I felt my face screw up and knew I was going to cry. The man stepped in and began to express gratitude that I was uninjured and mother grew sympathetic towards me. I remember thinking that's the first time I've seen her sympathetic with me.

To me, it was a good sign, that I'd gotten her attention.

I have more exit point hubs to make, and I'm really curious if others ever consider places in their life where death was ever so near, yet somehow something freaky happened and they survived?

Thank you for reading!  And don't get the wrong idea about these hubs talking about suicide thoughts and depression and molestation, as you know what? My guides gave me the name Laughing Rain and it means to learn to laugh at the rain. I have learned to do that, and I'd like to teach others how to laugh at the rain too. LR