If Wishes Were... Part 9

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CAUTION: This story depicts a therapy session involving a survivor of child molestation. Please exercise caution in reading this story, as it may trigger memories or flashbacks for the reader.


If Wishes Were...

Ten wishes from ten women...


Mika's Wish

 


Why, God? Is it my fault?
Why won’t he leave me alone?
I wish I were dead


 


The office of Dr. Gina DiBiaso


“Mika…tell me what you’re feeling right now. What’s going on?” The girl gripped the teddy bear tighter as the tears flowed down her cheeks. She started to shake and put her hand out as if she were waving for help. And her shaking intensified; almost like shivering in cold water.

“Mika…what’s happening?” The voice was safe…protective…a life preserver to grasp even as the memories threatened to close in over her and overwhelm her.

“He….he’s standing there…by my bed. I can smell him…” She rubbed her nose as it began to run; mostly from the tears she had already shed in the past half-hour, but also because the smell of his cologne, even if psychogenic at that point, still set off her allergies. She sneezed three times in succession before wiping her nose again with her arm, forgetting the tissues by her side.

“What’s he doing now, Mika?”

“He’s sitting on my bed….I can feel the weight…the bed….it’s creaking….Why won’t he leave me alone?” She began to shake again. A hand reached out to hold her, but Gina shook her head no, and the hand retreated.

“You’re shaking, Mika…are you cold?” The same question that got her to this point, but no further, seemed to fail once again until she said with a sob,

“He…pulled the covers off…I…I’m cold.” Mika still held the teddy bear close, but wrapped her arms around herself like a blanket.”

“It’s cold…very cold…you’re holding yourself.” Gina reflected the girl’s description.

“I’m cold….please…let me…please…I’m cold.” The girl sobbed, tears flowing unabated. Gina had noted the girl came into the sessions on occasion with bad headaches; the result of dehyration since the girl was crying every day since the flashbacks had begun.

“You’re very cold…you said please…what is happening, Mika…can you tell me?” Even with the success she was already having in therapy, the halting progress was frustrating. Gina didn’t want to push, but even the coaxing, as gentle as it was, might be too much for the girl to handle. She proved her wrong, almost sadly but for the fact that it was better to let it out, as painful as it would prove to be. The girl suddenly dropped the bear and started waving her hands, as if to fend off something. She was sobbing enough to shake the chair.

“No…please…you said…no….I’m cold…let me….you promised…no more…” It didn’t take much for Gina to understand; so often her patients had trust violated by repeated promises of ‘only once more…only this time,’ when the offender either had no intention to stop or was so entrenched in their addiction that they couldn’t. Either way, it was doubly painful, since the child had been lulled into a false sense of security.

“What did he promise Mika? What did he tell you?” Gina would never have brought it up, but it was up and out, so to speak, and she wanted the girl to have the chance…even if she couldn’t say right then and there.

“No…you promised…Oh God why…it’s not fair…no…you told me….you said.” By now the girl was nearly hysterical. Once again, a hand reached over to comfort, and once again, Gina shook her head no.

“What’s not fair…what did he say…what did he promise?”

“Leave her alone…don’t….leave her alone…I…you told me…you promised…” She started to rock back and forth in the chair, once again holding herself in her arms against the cold.

“What did he do…what did he promise Mika….?”

“I want to die…he promised…I want to die…” She continued to sob and rock….her shoulders convulsed from the sobbing.

“What did he promise? What did he do, Mika?” The girl stopped rocking and screamed,

“Leave her alone….I’ll do what you want…leave her alone…..it’s my fault…I didn’t do what he wanted…..it’s my fault…I want to die….” She reached around, almost blindly until she found the bear once again and hugged it tightly, still
sobbing.

“What’s your fault…what happened?” Gina knew that the girl had done nothing wrong....would have never done anything ‘wrong,’ but she was made to feel guilty…like she said, ‘it was her fault.”

“He promised…if I…sucked him…if I made him…….it’s my fault….I want to die.” The girl started once again to rock back and forth, talking to the teddy bear….

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” She kept repeating, over and over while sobbing and rocking. It seemed like it had been going on forever, even from Gina’s perspective, but only minutes had passed.

“Who are you talking to…Mika…who are you sorry for?” She stopped rocking and her face, still red from crying, twisted into a mask of horror as she snapped,

“Lena….he….I did what he wanted and….he still hurt her….he promised…I should have….it’s my fault…it’s my fault…he hurt her…I should have saved her…” The girl suddenly stopped, almost as if she had been slapped in the face. She stared vacantly as a look of surprised comprehension crossed her face. She frowned and her lip quivered slightly as she said,

“I…I couldn’t….Oh God…his fault…his fault…”

The girl broke down and fell against the back of the chair, sobbing almost uncontrollably and incoherent. After a few moments her sobbing subsided enough for Gina to get her attention.

“Mika? Mika? Can you hear me?” Gina said firmly but softly. The girl didn’t speak but her head came forward slightly.

“Mika…I want you to think of that safe place you talked about…remember?” The girl started to rock back and forth again, but slower and with less intensity.

“Mika…think about the place….where are you now, Mika?” The girl’s expression softened and she leaned back once again, but this time relaxed.

“Where are you now, Mika?” Gina said again softly. The girl’s face brightened slighly and she said softly,

“With Victor…”

“Okay…you’re with your brother Victor…how do you feel, Mika? What color do you see?” The girl’s face brightened even more,

“Green…”

“Okay…and do you smell anything?” Gina said, repeating almost word for word what she had used to bring the girl out.

“Grass…we’re in the park.”

“Okay…Mika…how do you feel?”

“I…I’m safe…..relaxed,” the words sounded odd after the exchange of the past forty minutes, but Gina expected that, of course.

“Alright, Mika…I want you to open your eyes when you’re ready…when you feel you’re ready, okay?”

She said nothing for a moment and then opened her eyes and looked at Gina.

“We’re going to take just a little longer, Mika…okay?”

A nod followed by a quiet yes.

“We talked last time…he promised to leave Lena alone. But he didn’t.” The tears began to flow once again, but with understanding.

“Could you have done anything?” Gina said softly.

“I should have… I could have…”

“What could you have done? How old were you?” The girl looked away and the reality of the past, as horrible as it was, softened just a bit as a look of understanding crossed her face.

“I…I was eight….” She was still crying, and her tone was almost apologetic, as if it was her fault that she was so small and so young.

“Can an eight year old stop a grown man?” Gina nearly insisted; it had been so hard to get to this point, and she didn’t want Mika slipping back into misplaced guilt.

“N…no…” She whispered; again, almost apologetic, as if the offense were her fault instead of the monster who molested her and her sister.

“Are you guilty?” Mika still felt pulled in the wrong direction, but the work she and Gina did over the past year had helped her gain the inner strength she had lost so many years ago.

“N..NO! I’m not…” Her shoulders started to shake, but no convulsively as before, but in a soft laughter brought about by relief and peace.

“I’m not…” She began to cry once again, but this time the tears were healing instead of condemning. The hand reached out once again, this time with a look that sought permission.

“It’s okay, now, Marta…” Gina said and nodded as Marta leaned closer and squeezed her hands. Mika looked up, and smiled weakly.

“I’m so proud of you,” Marta said softly.

“Remember what Lena wrote? ...She would have been proud of you, too, honey.” Marta said, her own tears matching Mika’s.

“This is a good day,” Mika said with a sniffle as she recalled where the tissues were and wiped her nose.

“You did a lot of work today, Mika…yes…it’s a good day.”

“Oh…yeah….but it’s even better….”

“Today’s my birthday…twenty-five.” Mika Alexis, nee’ Michael Alexander… She smiled at her partner Marta and back at Gina.

“Happy birthday, Mika…” Gina said with a relieved sigh.

“Happy birthday.”

Next: Bonnie’s Wish


Author's note: This episode parallels a similar therapy session which took place between me and my therapist recently. The imagery techniques are real; the scenario is mostly autobiographical; the characters are fictitious. Thanks for reading, Andrea

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Comments

If Wishes Were... Part 9

Dear Andrea, this story made me cry tears of RAGE over what that monster did, and then tears of JOY over her success.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Sometimes...

laika's picture

Rocks, Honey.

A little more understanding, bringing to light what was locked away in the shadows,
a little less poisonous guilt over something she couldn't possibly have helped...
Can't think of a better birthday present for Mika, hard as it was to get to.
Another step on the long road up. One of the roughest but one of
the best of the Ten Wishes series so far.
~~hugs, ronni

“Can an eight year old stop a grown man?”

An important thing to remember when you (and I) feel guilty.

"Treat everyone you meet as though they had a sign on them that said "Fragile, under construction"

dorothycolleen

DogSig.png

Brave

RAMI

RAMI

Dear Andrea:

This must have been very difficult for you to write. Your very brave to do it. Hopefully, writing about it, will be good for you mind and soul.

Rami

RAMI