Dear Child/Adult Clergy Sexual Abuse Survivor…

This is posted from my real life to your real life. May you find it in your post. 
In it, may you find hope.


It is my understanding that many survivors do not hit a real reckoning of the ruin of childhood abuse/neglect until midlife. This is congruent with my experience. and has literally changed the trajectory of my existence. I am in active recovery still.

Two and a half years ago when we were hit by the train… It nearly literally killed us both. There were many days when I wasn’t sure that he would make it home; when he didn’t know what he would find when he got home. We were in the ICU of life for a long time.

Before we married B amputated part of his hand when he wasn’t paying attention. When we had to change the bandage on that appendage, we found that it had healed into the wound. We soaked it but the mesh had mangled into the flesh. We each took turns tugging at it. We each took turns laying on the floor feeling faint. This was like that, but this time, we were both mangled.  We were amputated from each other.

It was a haemorrhage of horrific proportions. I thought the bleeding would never stop. It took about a year just to stabilize, countless trauma transfusions, and a second year to get the blood count up. We are still working on our immunity. Safety/stability remain a priority.

It was a journey of countless crushing steps. It was hell, I tell you. Hell. There was a point where we almost didn’t make it individually. Then came the protracted question of if we would ever make it corporately. We did. Damn right we did. We now have, each in the other, a stout-hearted connected comrade who, though battle worn, will never leave the others side. I have his back. He has mine. Trauma tore us apart but not asunder.

I, no we, stand with you in solidarity.

LA & B

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