{"id":5076,"date":"2015-05-03T23:58:25","date_gmt":"2015-05-03T23:58:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thelamplighters.org\/llblog01\/?p=5076"},"modified":"2015-05-03T23:58:25","modified_gmt":"2015-05-03T23:58:25","slug":"words-with-a-negative-connotation","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thelamplighters.org\/llblog01\/words-with-a-negative-connotation\/","title":{"rendered":"Words With A Negative Connotation"},"content":{"rendered":"

You\u2019re headed for a party with a bunch of old cronies you haven\u2019t seen in years. You\u2019re so much looking forward to it.\u00a0 You walk in the door and there\u2019s Joe on the other side of the room. Even though you haven\u2019t seen him in a couple decades you\u2019d know him anywhere. The two of you were best friends all through high school and then lost touch when you went off to college. Wouldn\u2019t it be great if you could renew that old friendship? \u00a0Joe recognizes you as well and the two of you give each other a manly hug, exchange greetings and begin to catch up on all the news. After you start it off with current marital status, career, home, family etc. Joe puts in his news. You pat him on the shoulder and say how glad you are to see him looking so well. His face droops for a moment and then he says, \u201cActually, I have bad news; I have pancreatic cancer. The doc gives me six months tops. That\u2019s one reason I came to this party so I could say hello and goodbye to my old friends.\u201d You\u2019re stunned as your smile stops in mid-air. \u201cThen in a shaky voice you find yourself saying, \u201cGee Joe, I\u2019m sorry; gosh look, there\u2019s Fred over there. I\u2019ll catch you later. You escape with a guilty heart but much relieved. Not only one, but two words with a negative connotation, dying and cancer.<\/em><\/p>\n

Your best friend calls you and says she has something important to tell you. Can you meet her at the local coffee shop. Sure you say and off you go. You\u2019re glad to see each other. She looks depressed, almost in despair. You ask her what is wrong. \u201cI was raped at gunpoint by a masked man last night on my way home from work.\u201d You\u2019re in shock and stare at her with your mouth hanging open. \u201cSusie, how awful. Oh my God! (you pause for a moment, trying to digest this horrifying piece of news) I just realized something. I\u2019m supposed to meet my mother. I\u2019m so sorry. Why don\u2019t we talk later?\u201d Off you go. Rape is a word that you definitely never want to hear, even from your best friend and masked man and gunpoint rate somewhere nearby as well. <\/em><\/p>\n

You run in to your uncle at the local shopping mall, exchange hugs and greetings. He asks you how your life is going. \u201cI just found out my newborn baby has Downs Syndrome.\u201d He stares at you as if you\u2019d just asked him to turn over all his money and responds, \u201cUuum, I\u2019ve heard about that. Don\u2019t know much though. Shame, I think. Well, I\u2019m running late. Nice to see you.\u201d Is it only men who can\u2019t handle hearing about a child\u2019s mental disability? <\/em><\/p>\n

A friend of yours calls to tell you her husband is coming home from Afghanistan. He\u2019s been gone more than a year and you tell her what great news that is. \u201cHe lost both of his legs when he stepped on a mine,\u201d she adds. You stare at the phone as if it were a snake and mumble, \u201cPoor guy. Look, can we talk later. My kids are late for a soccer game.\u201d You hang up. You picture amputations, having to see her husband at some gathering and wondering what excuse you can make to not go.<\/em><\/p>\n

You get together with a close friend for a drink after work. Once you\u2019ve both ordered and caught up on pleasantries she says, an earnest look in her eyes, \u201cI\u2019ve been going to a therapist to find out why I keep choosing bad guys for mates and I found out that my father raped me when I was a little kid. Incest! I have some memories of child sexual abuse but I always thought they were bad dreams. Can you believe it?\u201d You hold your breath and then say, \u201cGuess what, I\u2019m getting a raise. I think my boss wants to promote me. Isn\u2019t that great?\u201d Not only did you not respond to her, you changed the subject as if she had never spoken those yucky sex words, child sexual abuse and the worst of all, incest.<\/em><\/p>\n

Unfortunately, we live in a world filled with realities that are defined by words with a negative connotation. We could use euphemisms or platitudes instead. Can\u2019t we say \u201cinappropriate behavior\u201d instead of child sexual abuse? Why don\u2019t we say, \u201cHe had some injuries in the war\u201d instead of lost both legs and how about saying, \u201cI\u2019m not well\u201d instead of telling people you have cancer.\u00a0 \u201cCriminally attacked\u201d would certainly clean up that awful word rape. When I was a little kid my parents referred to someone who was drunk (and an alcoholic) as \u201csick\u201d. Thank God for Alcoholics Anonymous.<\/p>\n

Many years ago I was engaged to be married to a man who was diagnosed with lung cancer shortly after we bought our house together. He went downhill very quickly and was soon so thin his pants hung on him. He insisted on going to the annual picnic for the company where he worked. As we wandered around, Chuck, ashen faced and walking with a cane, ran in to different male friends he\u2019d known for years. They patted him on the back, ignored his ashen face and cane, began talking about the latest sports statistics and soon hurried off. His women friends were different. They gave him a hug and asked how he was doing, then listened with heartfelt concern as he spoke of radiation, chemotherapy and prognosis.<\/p>\n

No one wants to hear bad news. Deep inside we\u2019re all Pollyannas and want everything in the world to be perfect, no wars, no illnesses, no marital problems, no financial worries and perfect kids and climate. Guess what, that\u2019s not the world we live in, like it or not. Most of us can\u2019t escape something happening in our life that is unpleasant (another euphemisms) or even life threatening. But we must label things as they are. We cannot attack resolution of this problem if we don\u2019t. I\u2019ve talked to so many people who skirt around the edge of the words \u201cchild sexual abuse\u201d when they want to write me about what happened in their childhood. They are afraid to use the real words when they should be afraid to not use them. Where did you get those bruises? I ran into a cupboard. Does that cupboard have your husband\u2019s name on it?<\/em><\/p>\n

In my particular case, the first time my father raped me I lay sleeping on the bottom bunk in the bedroom where one of my sisters slept in the upper bunk and my baby sister, age three, slept in a crib next to our bunk bed. In a state of terror as I knew nothing about what was happening to me, I shrieked and screamed for help, fighting back with all I could. My mother, a heavy sleeper, didn\u2019t come into my bedroom until my father had completed his rape. He stood nearby a hand clutching his robe as I clung to my mother in hysterics. She asked what happened. \u201cIt hurt and it was crushing me. Mama, help me, please Mama, help me\u201d. She wrapped her arms around me and in soothing tones kept saying repeatedly, \u201cIt was just a nightmare, just a nightmare.\u201d I kept saying no and begging her to help me. I didn\u2019t know what had happened to me so I had no words to put to the deed. She kept telling me I\u2019d had a nightmare and finally left the room as I lay sobbing and hiccupping, my rosary clutched in my hand.<\/p>\n

For the rest of my life I remembered the nightmare with such clarity but since I was only 13 and thought you bought babies at the hospital I had no idea what had happened to me. I have had so many people tell me that they were awakened from a sound sleep and had a \u201cnightmare\u201d.<\/p>\n

If you can\u2019t use the exact word that describes what you went through you\u2019ll never be able to heal from it. The old saying, \u201cCall a spade a spade,\u201d is so true. If you have a wound in your leg from falling down from a tree and it is bleeding and rapidly getting infected from lack of medical care and you keep telling yourself you got a bit of a scratch when you fell, you\u2019ll never get the medical care you need and may wind up losing your leg. A wound is, by definition, an injury involving penetration of the body.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s what happens to child sexual abuse victims who can\u2019t even do the first step in REPAIR, Recognition.<\/em> They won\u2019t lose their leg, but they may lose their life.<\/p>\n

Use your words and be not afraid when others use theirs. Reach out with compassion and understanding. Be there for those who were wounded in whatever way it happened. Is that not what you would want if you were wounded? Listening to someone else\u2019s tale involving tragedy may cause you to flinch but when you consider how much you are helping someone else who desperately needs to talk about what happened to someone who will listen, it is a small price to pay.<\/p>\n