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Authors: Elizabeth Margaret

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Love,

Abigail

 

 

CASE FILE #2794 ABIGAIL LEE MANUS D.O.B. 02/04/1998

ENTRY 20: 06/05/2014

Today Abigail tried to use our individual session to discuss what was spoken about in the group. Abigail showed clearly that she had empathised with the traumas that they were describing. She wanted me to explain how such terrible things could happen to these young women.

I had seen signs of her ability to relate to the situation of others, but this was the first time that she seemed to come out from behind her self-constructed defences. It was as though their stories had created a bridge to her real self. Abigail was intent on exploring in the psychology of abuse and neglect.

'How come they let them do that shit?' she asked.

'It's not about giving permission to be hurt, Abigail,' I replied. 'You know that,' I added.

With this Abigail slammed herself back into her chair. She glared at me with undiluted hatred.

'You don't know anything about me!' she spat.

Clearly we were too close to home. I had to work the interaction back to the hypothetical.

'Abuse happens when one person inflicts pain on another,' I explained.

'Yeah, I know that! I'm not stupid!' she hissed.

'Stupid is definitely not a word I would use to describe you, Abigail,' I said evenly.

Still the impaling glare. Good thing I have learnt to wear my chainmail vest for Abigail's sessions.

'An essential ingredient for an abusive relationship is a significant power imbalance between the parties,' I explained.

'There's always one person stronger than the other,' she replied – her tone indicating that even I should know this.

'Yes, you are right, Abigail. I don't know any relationship where the people are always evenly balanced in terms of personal power,' I responded. 'I bet with your friends sometimes you take the lead, and at others you have been prepared to let them take more responsibility,' I added.

She thought about this before replying. 'Yeah, but that's normal,' she said.

'Absolutely,' I replied. 'An abusive relationship is when the more powerful person sets out to hurt the other person,' I expanded.

'So you're saying that the victim lets it happen?' she asked.

'It's not about blame. And I don't like the term victim,' I replied.

'What's wrong with "victim"?' she asked, using her fingers as quotation marks.

'Maybe it's just me,' I said. 'But to me you can be in an abusive relationship in which you are victimised. That doesn't necessarily make you a victim,' I added.

After a few moments of reflection she said, 'I don't get the difference.'

'To me the word "victim"' – and here I used the finger quotation marks – 'is more about a state of mind. It also has connotations of blame. So to me, a victim is a person who sees that what has happened to them in an abusive relationship is at least partly their fault,' I explained.

'Are you talking about me?' she angrily demanded.

Her mood swings are so lightning fast it is breathtaking.

'No. I am speaking in general terms,' I replied evenly. 'I bet you know some girls from school who play the victim card,' I invited.

She thought about this for a minute, and then said: 'Yeah, there was this one girl who constantly wanted us to put her back together. She was always crying and moaning about how her boyfriends treated her,' she added thoughtfully.

'Why do you think she was like that?' I asked.

'Duh! She had no taste in boys!' Abigail laughed.

'Did you try to tell her to stop choosing losers?' I asked.

Abigail looked at me like I shouldn't know the word.

'Yeah. She kept doing the same old, same old,' she said.

'Why do you think she did that?' I asked.

Abigail leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees and resting her face in her hands. She was thinking deeply. Finally she said, 'I think she needed the attention from us.'

'Bang on, Abigail!' I smiled at her. She resumed her pensive position. I waited.

'So if you don't like the word "victim", what word do you use?' she asked.

'What word would you use?' I threw back to her.

'I dunno! You're the shrink! Why ask me?' came the angry reply.

'I use recipient,' I said simply.

'Why?'

'Because "recipient" does not apportion blame,' I said. 'It takes away the sense that the person who has been abused is responsible for what has happened to them,' I added.

With this, Abigail sat back in her chair. But this time she was not scrunched into the corner, arms protectively across her chest. She was thinking about what I had said.

Abigail obviously understood these complex concepts. Was she relating her own experience to this theoretical explanation?

It was fascinating watching Abigail during this interaction. It was as though her need to know had (perhaps only temporarily?) overridden her suspicion of me and my motives in our individual sessions.

Is this the key that will eventually allow Abigail to unlock her secret?

Dr. Harry Nightingale

 

 

 

Dear Crystal,

In my session with Doctor Hobbit today he asked me how I felt about getting a kitten for the ward. I reckon it's a great idea, and said so. He asked me why I thought it was a good idea. Seriously? Is he flat out stupid? I told him that one of the things I miss most is our pets. We spent the rest of the session talking about our animals – which was fine by me.

I told him about how we got our dogs from the shelter. How it was important to the three of us to rescue an animal from certain death. How I hate pet shops in shopping centres. When he asked why I felt so strongly about that, it seemed like he really did want to know. So I told him. Natural light is as important to health for animals as it is for us. It's obvious. And that if you buy a pet from a pet shop you don't know the source. It could be from a poor animal that spends its life in a little cage, being bred with over and over.

Do you remember the little white dog Mum's friend Kath had? The first time we met her was when we had a picnic at the lake with lots of Mum's friends and heaps of kids. Kath had a very disabled boy in a fancy wheel chair, and the dog was in the basket at the bottom. It was a fluffy little white thing – so I called it a tampon dog. I asked her why she didn't take the dog out and let it run around with the others. She told me that it had been a brood dog, kept in such a small cage that it couldn't stand up. When I first saw the dog in the basket, I thought Kath was being a bit precious. That really shocked me. Who could do such a thing to an animal? I liked Kath after that.

So today I guess I told Doctor Hobbit how I really feel about things. I told him how Riki is a big dog but terrified of just about everything. How she freaks out during thunder storms, and sleeps on top of us. I told him about Del. How she was going to be put down, even though she was a pure Dalmatian, just because she was nerve deaf. He smiled when I said we had to call her by waving our arms at her seeing end. Such a beautiful dog. Love on four legs, I said.

I told him about our cats. Princess really does live up to her name, doesn't she? Being part Burmese makes her highly strung and she grooms so much that she has bald patches and sores. He said we could think about putting her on Valium. If he could say that about our cat, why doesn't he do that for Beth? It might calm her down enough so that she could function like a normal girl.

I told him about how Tyke was tossed over our fence. He was so tiny and shouldn't have been away from his mother. Do you remember that we went with Mum when she took him to the vet, and took turns feeding him with a bottle like a little baby? It's kind of surprising that he's such a well-adjusted animal. He doesn't have abandonment issues. He's just a lovely cat who purrs when we look at him.

I even told him about our chooks. I miss them. Especially when we got home from school and they would run down the path, wings out for balance, thighs pumping. They always made me laugh and think of that movie
Chicken Run
. I'll admit I was a bitch about having to go out in the dark and lock them up at night – especially when it was raining. But I miss their clucky talk as they worked their way around the yard. I reckon they do have a language because I could always tell when one had laid her egg, and was calling to the others so she could get back to the group. I miss the fresh eggs. I told Doctor Hobbit that I hope they only use free range eggs, chickens and pork. He could see that it was important to me. He said he'd look into it. But I don't suppose he has that much authority over the kitchens.

Please give all the animals a hug from me.

Love,

Abigail

 

 

CASE FILE #2794 ABIGAIL LEE MANUS D.O.B. 02/04/1998

ENTRY 21: 07/05/2014

The kitten idea has opened up another discussion with Abigail. She clearly loves and misses her animals at home. She was positive, even happy, as she spoke about them. It reinforces my opinion that Abigail is actually a gentle and loving girl who had a time in her life when she was growing up in a natural and healthy environment. She did not apply a time-line to this discussion about how she felt about her animals – so I wonder if they provided her with a sanctuary from her trauma.

She said, "Animals don't judge. They just love you."

Which begs the question: who was judging Abigail? Was she judging herself? Does she view herself as unworthy of love because of what she has experienced? I suspect this to be the case. It is not unusual for the recipients of sexual abuse to feel that they are somehow responsible for what has happened to them. Many believe that they are in some way complicit, and therefore culpable. This is usually the case where the recipient has been groomed by a family member.

This feeling of unworthiness is compounded by the lack of protection that the other family members should have, but did not, provide. I am quite sure that this is Abigail's situation. What I must be able to do is to convince her that she is not responsible for the sexual abuse she has suffered. I expect this will be difficult with Abigail.

Dr. Harry Nightingale

 

 

 

Dear Crystal,

The group session today was really good! Instead of the usual one-at-a-time intensive, Doctor Hobbit threw the rules out and had a discussion about getting the kitten. We were all excited and keen. He kicked off by asking us how we thought it could work. It was the first time I felt like he saw us a people instead of nut jobs.

Everyone wanted to name the kitten. Doctor Hobbit pointed out that we haven't decided whether it would be male or female. So we came up with a list of names for each. He said we could work on that one later.

Then came who would look after it? 'We all will!' we said. That's where I started to see that it could get tricky. Some of these girls are seriously damaged. I wondered if they had it in them to hurt – or even kill – a kitten. I don't know, but I guess Doctor Hobbit wouldn't have put it as an option if he thought that was the case.

The litter box caused some discussion. Because of Kayla, special precautions would have to be made. It couldn't be in the lounge room. Can you imagine watching her chow down on kitty litter, or worse? Doesn't bear thinking about! Doctor Hobbit said the nurses were prepared to put a cat door into their office, and the orderlies had agreed to clean the litter tray every day. I reckon that's pretty good of them. It was never one of my favourite jobs. So that one was sorted.

We all told him that we want to have a turn sleeping with the kitten. That would mean the litter box would have to go into our rooms for the night. Doctor Hobbit said that was okay for everyone except Kayla. She burst into tears. For the first time (a strange session, indeed!) he got out of his chair and knelt down in front of Kayla. He put his hand on her knee and said that as she gets better, this can happen for her too. She snuffled a bit but calmed down.

I must admit I'm excited! It would be lovely to have a kitten to play with and snuggle for comfort. I'll let you know how it goes.

Love,

Abigail

 

 

CASE FILE #2794 ABIGAIL LEE MANUS D.O.B. 02/04/1998

ENTRY 22: 08/05/2014

I pushed Abigail too hard today. I had hoped that because our sessions have been gradually building a relationship, I could gently start to introduce the setting of her trauma.

We started with discussing the kitten, which went well. Abigail was very positive about getting the kitten, and was confident that she could help to look after it. We spoke about kitten toys, and she told me how she loved taking her cats and dogs to bed with her.

'Did your mother mind you having the animals on your bed?' I asked.

Abigail slammed down the shutters. It was back to the early days where her mouth was clamped into a tight line while she backed into the far corner of her chair.

The shift was so sudden and extreme I was unprepared for it. It was like a switch had been flipped. Abigail spent the rest of our time glaring at me, radiating anger. Definitely a step backwards.

I do not know what triggered such an extreme response. Was it the question about her bed, or bedroom? Or was it the mention of her mother?

Again I wonder if Abigail had tried to disclose the fact of her sexual abuse to her mother, and that it had gone very badly for her.

At least now there is no doubt in my mind that the sexual abuse was suffered in the family home – and so most likely by a family member. But who? Abigail has not ever mentioned any males in her stories about her early life. So who is this male? When did he enter Abigail's life? What was his role? When did it start? How did he have power over Abigail? And what role, if any, did her mother have in this abuse?

I will keep our sessions on the theme of Abigail's love of animals. I will have to let her take the lead again, as it is clearly so important to her that she feels that she is in control.

Dr. Harry Nightingale

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