If your day to day responsibilities were taken care of and you could throw yourself completely behind a cause, what would it be?
I would mount a one-woman crusade to help bring health and healing to victims of childhood sexual abuse. This is the issue I find most grievous to deal with in my practice. Too often, victims of childhood sexual abuse don’t get any help until they are well into their ’30’s, or older. They may never have told anyone else, ever, what happened to them.
There is a profile for victims of childhood sexual abuse. That profile includes anxiety, depression, substance abuse, sexual promiscuity, multiple marriages and divorces, and all degrees of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD inclues flashbacks, nightmares, night terrors, hyper-vigilance, and more.
When a predator touches a child’s body, he touches the child’s soul. I read recently that some benighted person tossed off a remark to the effect that a predator doesn’t touch anything important–just the throwaway parts. Whatever that means. Obviously, the ignorant person who said that doesn’t have the first clue about sexual abuse, yet he tried to come off as an expert.
I need to stop here. I could write all day, and I don’t have time. Have to go to work. I’m seeing two clients today who have been sexually molested, treating them with EMDR and a whole lot of patience.
I don’t get angry about much these days, but this one sends my mad-ometer over the top. I will not see the predators in my office. They are not welcome. I have nothing but disgust for what they do, nothing but revulsion for them. Typically, they don’t believe they’ve done a single thing wrong. Unless someone blows the whistle, stops them by having them tossed in the clink, they will not stop. Their victims are multiple. They belong in prison. For life, if I had my way.