TO THE GIRL WHO SENT US A LETTER

Miami Herald, The (FL)
September 25, 1988
Author: GENE WEINGARTEN Herald Columnist

I write today to one person only, a very bright and very troubled teen-age girl who sent us a letter but did not sign her name.

I know you are in pain, and I know how hard it is to explain that pain to others: how you are held captive by thoughts you cannot simply switch off, as you could a TV show that is too disturbing to watch. I know these thoughts can press in on you until your teeth ache and your muscles scream and you feel you are going to explode. I know this pain is no less real and no less intense than that of a shattered limb, only with this you cannot cry out, though you want to. But I know this too: Just like a broken bone, this injury can be cured. The cure does not require money, nor your parents' involvement, nor must it leave scars. What it will take is a single act of courage. By you. Soon. You are not "perverted' or "dirty," as you have written. What you suffer from is a confusion that many young adults feel, especially young adults with a background such as yours. But what is unusual, what makes you different, and terribly vulnerable, is that you have had no one to talk to, no one in whom to confide.

That is the simple, wonderful medicine for problems of the mind: talking. It is that easy, and it is that hard. No one can do it for you, you have to take that first step yourself.

Sometimes, in the darkness of despair, good people can become disoriented. They see before them what they think is a simple solution to their problem, but their vision is imperfect, dangerously clouded. That is happening to you when you look to end to your pain, and contemplate an act of violence. It won't work. It will make things immeasurably worse. There's a better way, and it is as close as your telephone. Or a pay phone, outside your home.

You say that you admire David Lindsey Jr. for having had the strength to come forward with his story of sexual abuse. Remember how David helped himself: In the depths of his misery, when suicide seemed tempting, he instead called his clergyman. In that one act, David saved his own life. He has begun to heal.

In your letter, you call yourself a "coward." You are not. You have had the inner strength to resist the terrible temptations that are tugging at you. I know it has been a struggle, and a weaker person would have succumbed, and I think you know that too.

I called David Lindsey Jr. today and read him your letter. It moved him, as it had moved me and the others at Tropic who read it. I asked David what he would advise you, and he said this:

"When you harbor things inside you, your mind magnifies them many times, blows them way out of proportion. You need to get it out, because when you get it out, once you've talked about it, even though your problem is still there, you feel like it's not, you feel relieved, like you can start to cope with it. And you do."

I have talked about you today with many people -- psychiatrists, clergymen, health-care professionals. They all say you can be helped, and they all offer you their ears: for free, in confidence, anytime. Say your name is "Francesca," and they will drop what they are doing to take your call. They won't make you tell them your real name, if you don't want to.

Isabel Afanador of the state department of Human Resources: 637-4229 (call on Monday).

Marsha Cohen, director of Project Resolve, which helps female victims of sexual abuse: 662-2952 or 756-4515.

Monsignor Bryan Walsh: 754-2444 (his office) or 221-2012 (his home).

Have you heard of Monsignor Walsh? He is the head of Catholic Community Services in Miami. He is a genuine hero, the man who helped smuggle 14,000 children out of Cuba and into Miami in the early 1960s, and found them homes. He is an expert in the problems of adolescents. And he is a priest. No one -- not the courts, not the police, not your parents -- can ever force him to reveal anything told to him in confidence.

What you tell Monsignor Walsh is between you, him, and God.

Francesca, please. There is no shame in seeking help. Call.

Memo: FROM THE EDITOR
Section: TROPIC
Copyright (c) 1988 The Miami Herald