To Danny! Triggers

To Danny! Triggers

lostcowboy

Registrant
Hi Danny, I haven't come out and said so, but I consider you a friend. As a friend sometimes we have to tell our friends things they may not want to hear. I am in that position today. You recently posted about you and your father on a message that Jasper started. I feel that I need to talk about it, so rather than distract from his message, I starting a new one. I could have sent this in a PM, but I think it has value for everyone.

You wrote,
There is an episode in my life involving my dad that occurred when I was about 18 months old and learning to walk. I do not remember any of it, because I was so young and it was so traumatic.

The story goes that I was in the bathroom alone with my father. He was shaving. Supposedly I reached up and grabbed ahold of the red hot electric coils in the bathroom wall heater. My father smelled the flesh burning, grabbed me up, put shaving cream on my hands and took me to the hospital.

It was only at the age of 40 plus years, that someone, my first therapist, made the observation that as human beings we do not have the ability to grab onto red hot objects...our instincts prevent us from doing so. And even children that small have that instinct.

The idea that my father burned my hands deliberately is one that send chills through me. He was at times a very cruel, violent man, who would react with great anger to minor provocations.

Even now as I write this, my hands are tingling. I have carried large scars on both of my palms for all of my life.

But I cannot remember what happened and so likely will never know.

A few years ago when this first came up in my therapy, I surreptitiously brought it up in a conversation with my older sister who remembered more of the episode than I.

As she was speaking, she mentioned remembering how I was brought home from the hospital with my tiny hands covered in bandages and she mentioned a yellow salve that covered the burns. As soon as she said that I instantly recalled the smell of that salve as it came flooding back into my nostrils.

The next words our of her mouth were, "You know they were afraid you would lose your hands; and that salve that they had to keep on you had some a peculiar odor to it."
Danny what happened to you was terrible, but I think it was just a accident. I really do.

The idea that my father burned my hands deliberately is one that send chills through me.
I hope in time you will accept that he did not do this to you.

He was at times a very cruel, violent man, who would react with great anger to minor provocations.
I am not going to try to change your mind on this, you probably have many other memories to confirm his cruelty, but if you come to believe that he is less cruel that would be a good thing would it not?

The story goes that I was in the bathroom alone with my father. He was shaving. Supposedly I reached up and grabbed ahold of the red hot electric coils in the bathroom wall heater. My father smelled the flesh burning, grabbed me up, put shaving cream on my hands and took me to the hospital.
I think this is what really happened. But if that is true, what about what your first therapist said to you?
It was only at the age of 40 plus years, that someone, my first therapist, made the observation that as human beings we do not have the ability to grab onto red hot objects...our instincts prevent us from doing so. And even children that small have that instinct.
Would your first therapist tell you a lie? NO! At least not knowingly. What your therapist told you is true, our every instinct tells us to let go, jump back, and scream out loud. However you did not grab hold of a red hot object in the normal since of the word. You grabbed hold of a red hot ELECTRICAL object, and that is a very different thing. In the navy we give lectures all the time, one of them is about Electrical Safety. The bathroom wall heater should have had a wire grid, that would have prevented this accident. And now, here is the information that I want you to read and take to heart. This is right out of a navy manual.

How much Electrical current does it take to kill a man?
When a 60 hertz alternating current, for example, is passed through a man from hand to hand or from hand to foot and the current is gradually increased from zero it will cause the following effects: (1) at about 1 milliampere (0.001 ampere) the shock is perceptible; (2) A\at about 10 milliampere (0.01 ampere) the shock is of sufficient intensity to prevent voluntary control of the muscles and a man may be unable to let go and free himself; (3) at about 100 milliampere (0.1 ampere) the shock is fatal if it lasts for one second or more.
This is what happened to you Danny, you had a strong enough current go through you, that it locked down your muscles, and you could not let go.
I hope this helps you to become closer to peace.
 
Hi lostcowboy,

Thank you for your very thoughtful message.

I agree that this discussion might have value for others.

Unfortunately in this small bit of cyber space, it is impossible to adequately supply all the necessary context to the type of episode that I described from my childhood. So I won't try to convince you or me or anyone else.

I simply no longer know, for a certainty, what happened.

Rather than focus on the specifics of what occurred in that bathroom that day, I would prefer to bring the discussion back to the question posed by Jasper.

What happens to us when we cannot or will not remember certain things related to our abuse? (Sorry Jasper, if that's an inaccurate paraphrase.)

The point I was trying to make with my long-winded example of my father is that many times, I will not be given the certainty that I may seek.

That instead I will be given the opportunity to learn how to live with the ambivalence that remains when memory falters and reason fails.

I appreciate so much that you took the time to offer the information to me about the electrical current etc. That is something one friend would do for another.

Still, I was trying to demonstrate with my example that we will never know for sure what happened in that bathroom.

My father disappeared, simply vanished, several years after this incident.

I never saw him again.

I believe that what Josh, my first therapist, was trying to do for me, was to open my mind to the possibility that many of the 'myths' in my family were simply that--legends not totally based in reality.

Believe me, I prefer to believe that having my hands burned was strictly an accident, perhaps due to some negligence, because I know I was neglected as a child.

I hope I'm not trying to put too fine a point on this so I'll stop in a bit.

The reason for my story was that I have had to learn to live with uncertainty, ambiguity and conflicting emotions regarding my family, my father and the abuse that happened in my life.

Not knowing what happened exactly, for sure to my hands does not diminish the trauma that I suffered at such a tender age. In some ways, allowing for other possibilities, has allowed me to access my life in a different way.

To grieve for the pain that I can't remember, but know must have existed.

Believe me, my father did many things for which many people will never forgive him. This, surprisingly, is not one of those things and I am not one of those people.

That to me has been the way to real peace of mind; to embrace the uncertainty and learn to be alive with it.

As survivors, perhaps more than 'ordinary' people, we yearn for certainty--black OR white; good OR evil. That may supply us with a temporary sense of security, but in my experience, blocks my access to important parts of life.

Just a note, when I was 30 years old, I made the decision to find my father. I did. He was already dead. I missed him by about 6 months.

I learned a lot about my dad; too much to say here. He had scars on his back from where he had been whipped by this father, for example.

And the really weird thing today is that I can say I love my father and that in my heart we have reconciled. Once again, all that context could help explain this more, but I'll leave that for another place and time.

Thank you for caring for me.

I'm honored to be considered your friend.

Regards,
 
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