Why am I here? Well, where do I begin? I touched on this in my post in the 'introduce yourself' section but I'll elaborate further here. Not because I think anyone really cares but because I think it maybe cathartic for me in some way.
A few years ago I found myself struggling emotionally, more so than usual at least. I knew it was time to face the past. It's strange but I realised that it is possible to know something to be factual and yet totally believe the opposite. I'm sure there is some fancy sounding name for that state of mind. For most of my life I believed that I had never been raped, even though I knew that wasn't true.
Back then I was in the midst of a great deal of turmoil in my personal life, crazy family shit that forced me to think about my childhood and the direction my life had taken. I couldn't just keep looking forward anymore. There were also a lot of scandals in the media around this time regarding child sexual abuse, everywhere I looked there was something to remind me. For the first time in my life I knew that I had to be honest with myself, admit what happened to me. As soon as I did that, indescribable rage began to grow inside me. I had clarity, but with that came the terrible realization of the true impact this trauma had on my life. If you have never lived through it, you just can't understand. Picture a rock thrown into the center of a calm pond. The ripples emanate outward, disrupting the serenity, time passes and the ripples become less pronounced but they continue to expand. They become all encompassing. The entire pond is touched in the end.
Well meaning people will tell you that it was all in the past. They will tell you to move on. Moving on doesn't undo the damage and it's so easy to think of everything that you have lost. I have been fortunate in my life to have met two beautiful women who loved me for the person I am. Just two among more than I can remember, but they were too close, they could hurt me. I couldn't have that. Burning those bridges was so much safer than being vulnerable. Out of all the mistakes I have made, those two are the only ones I actually give a shit about.
When I came to realize why I acted in the manner I did, I broke down.
I'd finally figured it out. That man who raped me when I was 6, destroyed any chance I had to be happy. I wanted revenge. I was obsessed.
I knew I couldn't go on that way so I sought help. Thankfully there are organisations out there, staffed by kind, caring people who want nothing more than to help people though these issues. The problem was - I wasn't some timid little housewife, or a sympathetic kid. I was a big, bad man. I had been involved in a lifestyle where violence was an accepted method of conflict resolution, I was the worst nightmare of every child abuser out there.
I think, to this day that my honesty ruined my life. They realised that I had the motive and the capability to kill, which presented a dilemma to these mental health professionals. They are obligated to protect me, also the public. We can't have pissed off victims out there looking for revenge. Since I hadn't committed a crime the only option was to 'commit' me. So there I found myself in the psych ward surround by wackos who talk to themselves and talk to people who aren't really there. The only things I had in there were the clothes on my back and my smartphone. I needed to know why. Why did he do that to me? Did he think I would never grow up?
I did a lot of research on that 4 inch screen. I learned about them, the way they think and how they operate. Somewhere along the line I found the Demon, reading about these sickos going down for life made me feel better. I began to believe that justice is real and the fate that awaits those who hurt children is indeed a fate worse than death. Eventually I learned the right things to say and the right way to act. They let me out. Now I tell myself that my rapist is in all likelihood dead, or very close to it and I'm back where I started, Just looking forward and blocking out the pain, trying to forget everything that I have lost.