TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/100791/1007130.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 6.1 KB | 138 lines

                                                                                HEALTH, Page 46

Incest Comes Out of the Dark


As the taboos against talking about it crumble, thousands of
Americans, like Roseanne Arnold, are going public with their
stories of anguish and healing

By CHRISTINE GORMAN -- Reported by Barbara Dolan/Chicago and
Janice M. Horowitz/New York


    Incest with a child is among the most horrible crimes an
adult can commit. But it is also one of the easiest to hide.
Children are pressured not to tell. No one wants to believe
parents or other relatives ever sexually abuse their young
charges. But this conspiracy of silence, which only helps
perpetuate the tragedy, is beginning to crumble.

    Comedian Roseanne Arnold captured the attention and
sympathy of millions of Americans last week after she disclosed
that she had been sexually abused by both her parents as a
child. "It's the secret that's been killing me my whole life,"
Arnold, 38, says. "I feel like screaming; I feel like running;
I struggle hard not to forget again." She follows several other
prominent people, including talk-show host Oprah Winfrey and
former Miss America Marilyn Van Derbur, in telling stories of
childhood abuse. And for every celebrity who has gone public,
thousands of ordinary people have found the courage to confront
their own pain, tell others about it and seek help.

    Just 15 years ago, many psychiatrists believed incest was
rare and perpetrated only by fathers or stepfathers on their
daughters. Those myths have since been shattered. Researchers
estimate that between 200,000 and 360,000 cases of child sexual
abuse occur each year in the U.S. Perhaps 80% of these involve
incest. Surveys in California and Massachusetts in the 1980s
found that as many as 1 in 5 girls and 1 in 7 boys under the age
of 18 had been sexually abused by a relative -- anyone from a
father to a mother or an in-law.

    Another myth holds that incest occurs only if there is
anal, oral or vaginal penetration. "That's like saying only
people who drink three liters of alcohol a day are alcoholics,"
says a Chicago psychiatrist who was a victim of incest. During
the past decade, the definition of incest has been broadened to
include fondling, rubbing one's genitals against a child, and
excessive or suggestive washing of a youngster's pubic area,
among other sexual behaviors.

    Information about how incest thwarts normal development is
being used to help people overcome its lifelong devastating
effects. During the first two years of life, children must learn
how to view themselves as being distinct from their
surroundings and the people around them; they are not born with
the knowledge. Incest plays havoc with this healthy process by
violating a child before a sense of personal integrity can fully
take hold. Survivors of incest fall victim to extremes. They
grow up unable to trust others or, alternatively, tending to
trust too easily. They shut down sexually or become wildly
promiscuous.

    Physically unable to resist, many children defend
themselves in the only way they know how: by wishing the attacks
away. About a quarter of the youngsters completely repress the
painful memories, although they will still suffer the effects
of abuse. Some, like Carolyn Loshbaugh, 45, of Denver, gain a
hundred pounds by overeating in an unconscious attempt to make
themselves less alluring to their abusers. "Of course, I've been
using wrong techniques for keeping myself safe, thinking that
being overweight will keep me safe," she says. Others, including
Arnold, try all sorts of escape routes. Growing up, she cut
herself, abused drugs and alcohol and hitchhiked five times
across the U.S.

    Eventually many incest survivors will recover at least
some memories of their trauma. Generally the flashbacks begin
only after the victims reach their 30s, when they are either
strong enough or safe enough to tolerate the pain. The most
common memory triggers include learning about someone else's
abuse, seeing children attain the same age at which one's own
abuse occurred and undergoing therapy or hearing about the
abuser's death.

    Even if they remember the incest, survivors usually try at
first to minimize the damage by saying, "It only lasted two
years," or "It's only my brother." Many times they will find a
great deal of support in this denial from other members of their
family, their spouses or their friends, who do not want to talk
about incest any more than the victims do. Men are particularly
adept at trying to downplay the effects of abuse. "It was just
supposed to be part of growing up," says Harold Watson, 38, an
artist in New York City.

    Hundreds of self-help groups have sprouted all over the
country. Society's League Against Molestation provides
counseling and nationwide referrals over the phone
(1-609-858-7800). Most survivors find that they cannot navigate
the recovery process without professional help. Often that means
at least two years of psychotherapy.

    Some survivors transform themselves from victims to
activists. Until Patti and Kelvin Barton of Everett, Wash.,
lobbied their state legislature three years ago to enact a new
law, it was almost impossible for anyone to bring civil charges
of childhood sexual abuse after the victim turned 21. Because
many incest survivors, like Patti, do not even realize their
childhood experiences until they are well into adulthood, they
had few legal options against their abusers. The Washington law
now allows people three years to bring suit after the discovery
of either the abuse or the injury it caused. A dozen other
states have since followed Washington's example.

    Crucial to recovery is the act of breaking the silence.
"It's very important for the survivor to tell at least one other
person," says Laura Davis, co-author of The Courage to Heal, the
text used most often by incest survivors attempting to recover.
"They don't have to tell the whole world if they don't want to."
But by speaking out even a little, survivors hope they can
break the cycle of shame and prevent the next generation from
suffering.