A borrowed sense of guilt and shame that I believe shouldn't belong to me but will surely outlast my lifetime anyway. [warning for talk about domestic violence, sexual abuse, & incest]
I could look past every other time I felt like he's wronged and betrayed me. Yelling at me, hitting me, breaking my things, getting rid of my pets, whatever, I hate you but I can pretend to tolerate living around you. I don't even know if you remember what you've done, surely not when you're a chronic alcoholic, but I still have to be afraid it'll happen again, and I still have to have nightmares about it, and I still have to remember..?
It's too late to tell anyone now. If I told her, it'd surely destroy what little relationship we have. She would think I was a liar, that I was plotting something, that I'm delusional and it never happened. I know I'd get screamed at and I know for a fact that it'd make everything in my life worse. I want it to be known is to possibly prevent something similar from happening again. If it happened to me, it's going to happen again, to somebody else, right?
I hate myself for not thinking about that. I wish I knew earlier for every single time something like that happened. It makes me so sick, it makes me feel sick applying it to every case of similar abuse I've wound up in. It's too late. If I didn't feel this guilty, I would probably forget about it... it makes me sick remembering, I vomit when I have a nightmare about it. It's been so long since the really bad part of it happened but my nightmares are somehow more disgusting than I could ever imagine.
I never realized by myself that I was supposed to tell someone about what happened. I guess I was that clueless and it makes me feel even more disgusting lol. Just a few years after what happened with my father (or when it stopped happening, I think, the really bad parts) I was violently sexually assaulted by a stranger and needed to go to the doctor. My mother forced me to tell him what happened as I felt absolutely ashamed and embarrassed. The doctor sounded very callous about telling me I should report it to the police, because the same thing could happen to another girl.
I never thought about that, I don't think there was ever a moment in my life where I felt such visceral emotion, which I can't describe. A mix of guilt, shame, disgust, feeling like the stupidest person ever for not thinking about it... I never ended up doing it. I didn't know how. I was sixteen... I'm still rarely allowed to leave the house by myself even though I'm an adult now.
I don't have it in me to talk about it. I could never be strong enough, I guess, whatever that means. Ever since I had this "revelation" I've wound up applying it to every similar case of abuse in my life. I don't know what to do about it. This is the only type of power I was supposed to have in such situations. I think. I don't know. I can't tell anyone I know in real life, I can't tell them about this website either or they'll find out. I feel strange publishing something quite personal and heavy on my blog, but I might as well, I want to relieve it at least a little bit... I've been doing so well for myself these past few months but...
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Mixhiell
anon
Croissant