Pages

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Confessions of the Deepest Soul

Today has brought forth from myself realizations that required me to accept them as truth. Therefore, they became self confessions and with those came tears, screams, pain and a beautiful release.

This past month has been very difficult for me. I have been required, in the course of my career, to dive into some topics that have affected me personally in the past. I went into thinking I had nothing to worry about. I'm a very open person and have always been very open about my past. I've helped others deal with what they've experienced, similar to my own experiences.

Yet, this was different. This was statistics with numbers. The sheer magnitude of the numbers. I am brought to tears just typing that. So many children, so many people......abused, beaten, tormented, raped, tortured. So many. So very many.

Then there were the "why". So many theories. I have long since advocated that the abuser has their own set of trauma that they were not able to work through. I've worked with the abusers. I know that they abuse out of the dysfunction that happened to them when they, as innocent children, were abused. Yet here, it was all split apart, dissected, investigated, and laid out. Looking at the abusers from this perspective, it brought back that old familiar fear. It made me feel unsafe again.

I had to read case studies.I had to watch videos. I had to remember my own muffled screams in my mind. I saw videos of 8 year old children offering to give blow jobs. I read of parents that sold videos of them molesting their own flesh and blood children. I studies cases of psychopaths and sociopaths and even heard their explanations as they justified their actions, even as they argued that it benefitted the child to feel the type of love they offered. I heard the women who were to scared to speak out publicly, and kept their faces in shadows. I have spent the last several weeks being daily reminded of that which I have fought to forget.

I have discovered that underneath all my walls and layers and facades and chains........... that I am weak. That I am scared. And that I am angry. So very angry.

I thought I had released that anger long ago. Because you have to forgive your abusers and move forward. How can you forgive and hold onto the anger? I don't hold animosity towards the ones that ripped away all my sanity. I don't wish them to be hurt. I pity them. I don't understand them. My heart aches for them. But I am angry. I am their VICTIM and though I have survived and accomplished many things in life, there are apparently still moments like these. Moments where I can feel weak, and vulnerable, and scared. Moments where, even though I know I will keep standing tall and moving forward, I just want to curl up small and have someone hold me and tell me that everything is going to be OK even as I know that I am most likely being lied to.

As a result of the last several weeks, I've made many mistakes. I've neglected responsibilities in work, parenting, maintaining my household, and college. I've pushed away someone I think may have been really good for me and I am not sure if he can understand that the timing of his entrance into my life just really, truly, sucked. I've withdrew inside myself, let my energies run wild, and sat in front of my computer 90% of my waking hours in an attempt not to think.

Not to think.

Yet, it all just exploded in an email I was writing earlier. The tears exploded with it. Because I have not cried the last several weeks. I have not cried for the victims or the survivors I studied. I have not cried for their offenders. I have not cried for myself.

I held it all in trying to push it all back into that pretty box I've kept it in for so long.

In the process I let go of my sanity somehow.

I don't want to box up those parts of me again. I don't want to bury it deep inside and wait years thinking everything is fine only to have them pop out like some infernal jack in the box.

I want to ..... I don't know. I can't let them go,they are my memories, they are who I am. They do not define me, but they have created me. I can't box them back up.

But I don't know how to embrace this part of me. I've only just come to the realization that the parts of my sexuality others condemn is a direct result of that past and that there are those out there that can see the beauty in it (thank you Fetlife). I've just started to accept that so much of my sexuality I have hidden because of it's abnormality can be embraced.

Yet, it's easier to embrace some things than others.

I guess, deep down, I still see those parts of me as ugly. Although I've found a place where there are finally people that can accept and appreciate the "fetishes" that are part of who I am, I still look inside myself and feel as if I need to clorox my insides. People haven't helped through the years. I've had men that broke up with me when they found out I'd been raped. Quite a lot of men. I've had women spurn our friendship. I've seen the repulsed look on my own parent's face when they finally were told so many years later. It's hard to embrace and love a part of yourself that so many other people are disgusted by.

I thought I was OK.

I thought I was past all this.

I thought I'd never be here again.

I am so angry at what was done to me. No one is ever going to be able to give me the validation I want. That validation has to come from within and I haven't figured it out yet.

I am broken, but I am whole. I am shattered, but I am complete. I am unique, yet I am everyone. I am me...... and I have to learn for that to be enough.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...