How could I know that my deep despair, overwhelming despondency, and desire to end my life was related to rape? After all, I trained my brain to "remember...nothing" as I had been instructed by the perpetrators.
The following is a paragraph in Beyond the Tears: A True Survivor's Story. I was 23 and had admitted myself to a psychiatric unit because I could no longer bear to live with the suicidal thoughts/activities. Something somewhere somehow was trying to help me save myself. I had taken it upon myself to finish the job rape started, obliterating my soul with lies of worthlessness.
As I sat on the bed in the psych ward a Neil Diamond song played on the tape recorder. “I am . . . I said, to no one there, and no one heard at all not even the chair.” My interpretation of the lyrics evolved into: I am a chair! I am an object! A memory formed as corporeal as that contained under the influence of truth serum: Could that really have been my big brother using me as an inanimate sex object? I am a chair! I am an object! I shoved the ambiguous memory down just as quickly as it had floated up."
However, it would take another 20 years before I could admit to my SELF that my brother had sexually assaulted me, threatened me with my life, and tried to eliminate my spirit with dead silence. To hear my voice, nourish my spirit, and claim my identity, I wrote the truth.