Category Archives: The Lies of Sexual Child Abuse

Writer’s Block Is Not a Block of Writers…

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Writer’s Block Is Not a Block of Writers…

…though it might be nice if it were, because then I’d have people around to motivate me to write. I’ve had the hardest time even wanting to write, which is unusual for me, because I love writing. Committing my thoughts to (computer) paper is one of my favorite things to do, and when I can’t do it because I’ve lost the desire to write is frustrating and heartbreaking all rolled into one.

But I have to do something!! So maybe I’ll just sit down and write. Write what? I don’t know, but I have to do something to break the logjam! So I’ll write whatever comes into my head, or maybe I’ll use some of my poems. That’s what I’ll do, I’ll use some of my poems. The first one is called The Murder of a Soul.

Many eyes watching, but ignoring
the obvious pain, the visible wound.
Many ears hearing, but denying
the silent scream, the cry of agony.
Many people knowing, but spurning
the knowledge of the murder of a soul.

But…

Though eyes ignored, the stars saw.
Though ears denied, the rocks heard.
Though people spurned, God knew
and wept.

S.A. Kuriakos & Elliot
©July 14, 1990

I wrote this poem after I figured out that I started picking holes in my cuticles when I was about two years old because I was trying to get someone, anyone, to notice that I was in peril because of Harry’s threats and abuse.

O earth, do not conceal my blood. Let it cry out on my behalf. ~ Job 16:18, NLT.

I couldn’t use words because Harry had told me he would kill me if I told anyone what he was doing to me, and he played Russian Roulette with one of his revolvers between my legs so I would understand that he meant what he said.

There was no way that I could know at two or three years old that the gun had blanks in it, so I believed him, and had to become a liar as a result. I forgive him for ruining my reputation! It took many years before anyone would believe that I wasn’t a liar, when I had no choice but to lie if I wanted to stay alive!

I forgive him for planting terror in my heart! I forgive him for being a monster!

And then there’s this little ditty, called simply Time.

Time.
A broad subject from beginning to end.
Irretrievable, irreplaceable commodity.
The only substance
present since just after God.
Visibly invisible,
invented by God
to forever
and indelibly
remind us of our mortality
and His immortality.

S.A. Kuriakos & Elliot
©June 21, 1990

And then there’s this lovely little poem written by one of my alters named Courtney, who was about three or four years old. She was very sweet and quite lovable. It’s called Things I Like. And because she was such a little girl her spelling and grammar weren’t very good at times.

I like ice cream.
My tongue becomes chocolate
for awhile.

I like butterflies.
They flit through the air
like rainbows dancing.

I like pussywillows.
Ther small furry kittys
on a stick.

I like crayons.
I can draw pictures
of inside my heart.

I like bears.
Ther fuzzy peple
safe to love.

I like hearts.
Maybe one will love me
someday?

S.A. Kuriakos & Courtney
©July 15, 1992

I wrote all these poems a long time ago, while I was still multiple. It would be another ten or more years before I would be integrated, and once I was integrated, sadly, I was no longer able to write poetry. For some reason that gift was lost once the alters who did that were integrated into the whole of who I am. I’ve always believed that writing poetry was a gift from God, and I’ve asked Him repeatedly to be able to do it again. I guess maybe I just need to be patient. On the other hand, the poetry was always used as an outlet for our pain, so maybe I need to be willing to give up that purpose to God, as well as be willing to accept another reason and motivation for its use.

And last but not least, there’s this one, called Remember Lot’s Wife, or Pillar of Salt.

Never look back,
your past will only haunt
and regret you.

Sweat drips
in salt-bloody heaps,
as I strain forward
while looking backward,
and run into trees on the way
because I can’t see the future
for looking at the past.

A pillar of salt is my destiny
unless I learn
to keep my heart looking forward.

S.A. Kuriakos
©January 23, 2025

Cool! I guess I’m not done writing poetry! I just finished that poem myself, without benefit of alters. Granted, I only edited the last couple of words, but it’s a start. It’s a start! Thank you Jesus!!

I started writing this post with the goal in mind of ending the long period of writer’s block, and just the fact that I was able to get as much down as I did with all the poems is very pleasing to me. But I like to end my posts with Scripture, so…

12Not that I have already attained this – that is, I have not already been perfected – but I strive to lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus also laid hold of me. 13Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself to have attained this. Instead I am single-minded: Forgetting the things that are behind and reaching out for the things that are ahead, 14with this goal in mind, I strive toward the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 3:12-14, New English Translation.

A Time for Every Purpose Under Heaven

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1To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: … 7A time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 8A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. ~ Ecclesiastes 3: 1, 7-8, NKJV.

The purpose of this blog is to educate people about the horrors of child abuse, and in particular sexual child abuse. There are a number of lies out there about what children experience when they’re being molested, and this is a big one.

This is going to be a hard post to write because it’s about a difficult subject. It’s hard for me to talk about and it’s difficult to write about, but I have to make the effort, because I need to bring it out in the open. As it says in the verse I quoted above, there’s a time to keep silence and there’s a time to speak. I hate what was done to me, and it’s time to talk about it.

Over the past couple of weeks I’ve been having flashbacks of moaning and grunting and groaning, and I couldn’t figure out what it was ~ if it was even a flashback. But then I remembered people telling me that if it felt good when Harry raped me (Harry is my biological father), all that was happening was that my body was reacting naturally to being sexually stimulated. Then I realized that my body wasn’t feeling pleasure as he was raping me. It was feeling pain. It HURT!! I was a small child and he was an adult male. My body was far too small for his adult-sized body parts. Then as he was forcing himself into me, and I was groaning from the pain, I could see him smiling.

Smiling?? Why was he smiling? Then it dawned on me: he thought I liked it. I liked it?!! I don’t THINK so!!

Knowing that Harry was so selfish and out of touch with my needs made me feel incredibly angry. It made me angry then and it makes me angry now, but I know I have to deal with it and forgive him.

I’ve been trying very hard to NOT deal with this memory since it came up. I’ve procrastinated on working on this post for days on end. It’s too painful, and it makes me too angry at Harry. It also makes me angry at my mother because she did nothing to stop him.

I don’t like feeling angry. It makes me feel out of control. But I know I have to get this dealt with. If I don’t take care of it then it will fester like an old wound that gets infected and fills with pus, and I really don’t want that. So I have to stop dithering about and just do it, regardless of how bad it feels, because, as it says in the Psalms, tears may last for a few hours, but with the new day comes joy.

For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. ~ Psalm 30: 5, NKJV.

I really want that joy, and I really want to please God, so I’m going to finish working through this memory, and forgive Harry and my mother, so I can publish this post.

I forgive you, Harry! I love you, regardless of what you did to me! I want the best for you!

I forgive you, Mom! I love you no matter what! I want the best for you!

Joy comes in the morning, and I pray that morning is here!

22Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. 23They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. ~ Lamentations 3: 22-23, NKJV.