I was raped. I’m sure of it, but not when. This life? Maybe, more likely not, but, some life, sometime, I was. I am sure of it. There are too many indicators that left me appalled by my own skin, inflicting abuse by picking scabs until I bled and couldn’t wear shorts my entire life, emotional eating episodes, unexplained repulsion and hiding my body under layers of cloth. Reasons, some I can personally recognize- he said this, she looked at me like that, and many more, I know my soul can spin many tales about. But regardless if yes or not, and when, it no longer bares the weight I carried with it all those years. It’s gone, gone, gone. [Deep breath of relief.]
This I only recently remembered, and looking at it, fascinates me like some eerily familiar case study of someone clearly separate from myself. I studied Humanology (formerly Neo-Psychology) for two years. The best way I can explain this eclectic science is a holistic type of meta-physical Buddhist-tinged self-healing regression therapy. It’s truly amazing, and has brought me and countless clients remarkable results.
So, I was sitting in a new classes, new semester, new students. In comes Irit, a bouncy adorably large woman with amazing energy. She’s married to Yossi, who volunteered at our kids’ school. Fast forward two months later…. She asks me how I’m doing with the body thing one day. “What body thing?” I’m clueless, and had totally forgotten how I initially knew her years before she was the volunteer-guy’s wife. A friend suggested Irit when I told her I wanted to spoil Kobi and I for a good massage. Having never gotten one, I was nervous and called to verify some details, all of which I had totally forgotten about until she spilled it out there in the tones usually reserved for light how’s-the-weather chit chat. “You acted like a rape victim. I was sure you had experienced some severe physical abuse.” she chirped. WTF?? I was floored and stared at her numb, having zero recall of this entire issue.