In her book about recovery after being raped as a freshman in college, Alice Sebold says, "No one can pull anyone back from anywhere. You save yourself, or you remain unsaved."
Here is my imagery about being molested and trying to heal in the 20 years since. If I don't save myself, my marriage will not heal...
I am standing on the rocks at the edge of the rapids, knee deep in water. Trying to keep my balance. Someone pushes me in. I go tumbling down the river, swept away in a deluge of water, being dashed against boulders as I go. I look to the banks of the river for people who can help me. I find them, call to them, they look concerned and like they want to help. I ask for help.
One calls to me, “I’m going to throw you some food - you must be hungry - you’ve been in there for so long.” And they toss me food, but I cannot eat because I am drowning in the rapids.
I see another person who I think can help me. I call to them for help. They call back, “Here are some dry clothes - you’re all wet.” They toss me the clothes, but the clothes get wet when I catch them.
I am trying to swim. People are yelling at me, “You need to swim! You’re going to knock your head against the rocks if you don’t get control of yourself!”
I see someone else on the shore. They act concerned. I call for help. They say, “You’re drowning! I know how to help you! Take some deep breaths and try to relax. You’re not getting enough air! If you breathe right, you’ll be able to help yourself out of the water.” But I cannot breathe - the water keeps splashing me in the nose, gushing into my mouth - I cannot breathe.
I sputter, cough, gag, try my best to breathe and relax. But the water is pushing me. The water is in control. All these people on the shore know how to swim. They could do a better job if they were in the rapids. They think because of that, they can help me. They bask in my grateful gazes as I gain hope each time I call out, but they do not help me.
