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The Ordeal

Clergy sexual abuse

By Jorgelina ZeoliPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 6 min read
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Church Music Director and her Eternal Friend

I am a documented victim of clergy sexual abuse.

I was the music director, he was the pastor, a predator.

My testimony made possible the termination of his ministerial standing.

After the investigation I received $1500, the maximum amount allowed from the Victims’ Fund of the United Church of Christ.

I also received $295 to attend a retreat for women victims of clergy.

~~~

A field with a million crosses

where victims of abuse hang

silent

unseen

forgotten,

Somebody is sobbing...

God, is that you?

~

Victim after victim, after victim, finally he had been caught...

The abuse disclosed,

overwhelming feelings rushing to surface ,

how to contain them?

how to contain the rage?

how to contain the hurt, the fear,

the guilt, the shame?

How to contain the confusion?

How to contain hell breaking loose within?

~

Hallucinations,

I see him everywhere.

~

The truth wanting to be spoken

stuck in my throat,

the secret wanting to reveal itself

stuck in my throat.

~

Terror,

if I speak up, will anyone believe me?

If I speak up, will I lose my job?

If I speak up, will I be blamed?

~

rage

blind rage

red rage

the deepening realization,

betrayal, betrayal,

he had betrayed his victims,

he had betrayed his friends,

he had betrayed his community

~

Keeping the lid on my emotions was getting harder and harder,

I was a time bomb.

“I need a specialist on abuse,” I said to my therapist,

“That would be Stuart,” she replied.

~~~

“You have PTSD, Jorgelina,” Stuart said, “do you know what that is?”

~

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder .

Recurrent and intrusive memories of traumatic events,

psychic numbing,

failing memory,

difficulty concentrating,

difficulty organizing thoughts,

flashbacks,

loss of interest in activities,

withdrawal,

isolation.

Gee, that’s me.

~~~

At church, I came forward, reported my case and requested financial help for extra therapy sessions.

My church loved me, help would come soon, I knew it would.

~

“There will be no restitution,”

the church leader said.

"No restitution..."

words that have stayed with me ever since,

"no restitution..."

~

The depth of my confusion was severe,

I could not comprehend the church’s response to my calls for help.

Many weeks passed before the realization began to sink in:

My church family was leaving me out in the cold,

brick by brick by brick, my insides were being dismantled.

~

the lack of response,

the absence of compassion,

were pushing me into a state of invisibility

worthlessness

hopelessness

~

From Stuart’s notes:

“Phone call in distress: feeling suicidal.”

~

I was a lion,

a wounded cornered lion,

they were taking my life away,

my music was dying

and I roared as wounded cornered lions do

~~~

Women victims of clergy sexual abuse are labeled “emotionally unstable.”

How could we not be emotionally unstable?

~

I spoke about the abuse.

“The pain you’ve caused, Jorgelina, by giving the burden of knowledge,” a church leader said.

The pain I caused.

Blame the victim. Shoot the messenger.

~

Only a victim can understand the pain of being blamed by those whose responsibility is to offer help and protection.

~

Every time a victim is blamed she sinks deeper into despair,

every time a victim is blamed the pain inside becomes unbearable.

~

It’s taken me years to understand the dynamics at play when being blamed.

It’s taken me years to recognize that horrible twisted feeling inside that immobilizes me,

the feeling of taking the blame,

the feeling that comes from believing what I’m told,

from believing that it’s all my fault.

~

“They don’t want me to speak,” I whispered to my friend the custodian.

“You can speak to me, Jorgelina,” he replied

but I never did.

How could I possibly articulate what had happened?

How could I possibly articulate what was still happening?

The magnitude of it all I could not comprehend,

and the energetic prison of the powers at be wanting me silent kept my tongue tied down.

~~~

Women victims of clergy sexual abuse:

Don’t let anyone keep you silent.

Speak your Truth,

have courage,

don’t let anything break you down,

speak up,

push forward.

~

It was one long agonizing year after I spoke up,

that eventually led to my resignation.

~

Just like Carrie,

I had a few moments of happiness,

the music we made...

Just like Carrie,

it was all destroyed...

Just like Carrie,

the hurt, the rage inside,

what to do with the rage inside?

Just like Carrie,

left on my own

carrying this horror inside,

left on my own... left on my own...

just like Carrie

~

For years to come I continued to crush myself against the walls of indifference

apathy

hypocrisy of the institution,

falling flat on my face,

drowning in despair,

only to bounce back and keep knocking on closed doors again

and again

and again.

And one day, down on my knees, the ultimate reaching out was finally voiced in an agonizing cry...

“GOD! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

And My Eternal Friend appeared.

~

Healing happens by reaching out to those who love you.

Of course, the question is: Who loves you?

For a woman victim of clergy sexual abuse this becomes a crucial question because often times even those who “love” you, blame you.

And My Friend said: “I love you, Jay.”

~

After my resignation, a friend sends me a church newsletter where the interim minister makes reference with pride to the heritage the church has had of speaking truth to unloving power.

~

-My Friend?

-yes?

Jay: do you think she speaks to herself?

My Friend: Jay, baby, sarcasm keeps you stuck,

it hardens your heart,

sarcasm is an obstacle to healing

~

sarcasm is an obstacle to healing

~~~

One of the hardest things on my journey as a victim and survivor has been to have believed that I was loved,

and I was not

-Jay, little one?

-yes?

My Friend: many things went wrong at that church,

but you were still loved, baby;

rescue the good times, Jay, and keep them in your heart,

remember the music you made,

remember their appreciation, their applause, their tears,

you touched their hearts, Jay,

remember the love and you will heal

~

remember the music,

remember the love,

and I will heal

~

Women victims of clergy sexual abuse have been sacrificed.

We deserve an apology,

we deserve vindication,

we deserve justice.

We deserve to have our wounds acknowledged,

not once, not twice, but many, many times.

We deserve to be treated with gentleness, with care, with respect.

We deserve not to be humiliated for our tears, for our pain.

Our rage deserves to be held without judgment.

~

The road to healing is long and painful,

who will be there with us?

Will anyone be there with us through it all?

And My Eternal Friend said:

"I will."

~~~

www.jorgelinazeoli.com

https://vocal.media/challenges/the-vocal-fiction-awards?via=jorgelina

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Humanity
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About the Creator

Jorgelina Zeoli

Jorgelina Zeoli is a former recital organist and teaches singing and Tai Chi. Her memoirs, films and songs focus on personal growth and the healing of her inner child. She incorporates humor, poetry and art. She resides in the USA.

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