Showering with the Door Unlocked and Why This is a Legitimate Fear

Posted: May 26, 2013 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I love snakes and spiders. I find the dark to be comforting. But I have my fears just like anyone else.

1. Showering with the door unlocked.

I’m starting to conquer this fear. Mostly because at my dorm the door to the bathroom didn’t lock. But I still can’t do this at home without standing there petrified, listening for sounds.

The reason: When I was twelve or so my adventurous spirit often got the best of me. Between bike crashes and tunneling through thorn bushes on a whim to conquer, I came home that day looking like a war veteran. My knees and elbows were stripped of all skin and somehow I managed to bang up my shoulder as well. There was a small gash in my shin and my entire body was covered in cuts from the thorn bushes. I liked to think I had conquered them, but maybe they had gotten the best of me that day.

I trudged upstairs to clean off the mud and the blood, vaguely aware of my mother shouting at my dad in the background. They were always yelling. I hopped in the shower and started singing to myself.

I didn’t hear her coming. I didn’t hear her coming at all. I felt a heavy whack to my head. The next thing I know is pain. I’m on fire. Everything burns and my mind goes into overload trying not to feel.

My mother is shouting. Why is she shouting? I’m trying desperately not to cry as I slump on the floor of the shower, my hands running desperately over my skin. I wanted it to stop. I needed the pain to stop.

Her monologue goes on. She leaves after screaming at me to scrub the shower this instant.

A few minutes go by. I dont know how, but I managed to lessen the burning. I adjust my position and my hand bumps into something. I glance over and see a gallon sized bottle of bleach dripping onto the shower floor. The lid was lazily trying to fit down the drain.

My mother didn’t know and didn’t care, but she had literally poured a gallon of bleach into my wounds. I guess she thought the lid was on.

In the morning, she didn’t even remember being angry with me. I didn’t bother explaining. I just learned my lesson and moved on with life.

She can’t remember, but I can never forget the most physically excruciating experience of my life.

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Comments
  1. goldfish says:

    Oh my. I’m sorry for what you went through. I totally understand the irrational fears. I still can’t sleep near a window myself.

    • Everybody has something. I’m just glad that at the very least I can understand my fears. Makes it simpler to deal with. It seems you have found a similar peace with your fear of sleeping near windows. Must say I’m pretty curious about that one.

      • goldfish says:

        Understanding your fears and knowing where they come from is huge.

        I haven’t entirely told my story yet. I still talk about my sexual abuse in generalities. I’m getting there though. I’m working on it bit by bit.

        As much as it sucks that anyone goes through any of the things we did, it’s nice to know you’re not alone. Unfortunately, there are so many of us.

      • Well put. And the good thing about having a story is you get to chose when and how to tell it. Congrats on staying strong. That’s something to be proud of.

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