flashbacks and non-forgiveness

TW: discussion of NM and rape.

I go through these times in my world, usually after particular triggers, where I find myself needing to tell my story. The abusive past, story. The story of surviving as a daughter of a narcissist. The continued experience with complex post traumatic stress (C-PTSD) story and how it can interplay into everything even after years of therapy and no-contact.

Part of me still feels utterly unheard, and chastised.

How could anyone ask me to be in a room with her?

But side note: let’s invite you to an event, as well as the person who tried to kill you, and then be all offended when you’re not sure if you are coming or not.

And part of me is scared of sharing this piece. Perhaps that is why I am. Because despite all of this time, I still feel like this should be deleted and ‘forgotten’. But this blog is for my entirety. Of which, there is some devilishly dark sinkholes.

I was reading a writer’s perspective on it – here – and I feel this, and know this. And part of me still asks if “that is all” – as if physical abuse alone is somehow worse… you know, worse that the physical, mental, and emotional abuse. And neglect. And lies. And manipulation, humiliation, shaming, fear, etc etc etc. All together. Everyday. Is. that. all.

How do I forgive this person?

I still have flashbacks and can still feel the internal screaming. Desperately clutching at something – anything to make sense. It didn’t.

I remember being mocked and laughed at, after she’d hit me. Whilst I was huddled on the tiles, crying.

I remember the disbelief. All the fucking people who didn’t believed me. Or the extent of it. Or that were swayed by a phone call or two, or the apparent conditioning comments before that. Or the crocodile tears.

I remember the yelling. And the rage. So. much. yelling.

I don’t want this to be my story. I don’t want it to define me.

But where is the balance?

Where do I draw the line between owning that this stuff did happen, and it was ruthless and devastating, and unfair and cruel… and real… and wanting it to not be a part of me?

Is the latter just denial?

What do the shadow parts of my psyche think or feel about this?

Because maybe the repulsion is a shadow part? Or maybe not?

I am jealous that some people get two parents, although that is meaningless envy. Cognitively I understand that one is just an enabler. Or both are abusive. Really I am jealous that someone didn’t see me. Or love me. Or save me.

The positive thinking thing of “your past is just a story” – literally undoes everything I am fighting for. Recognition. Acknowledgement. Reality.

Yes, as the victim, I do get to say if and when and why ‘forgiveness’ may be on or off the table. It gets to be my call. But what hurts is the confusion between some part of me wanting to truely move beyond this, transcend this… and another part that is really super hurt.

I still have flashbacks to when I thought I was going to die. I believed to the core of me, that she was going to kill me. This isn’t some irrational, out of proportion belief. A person came and stood between us. It wasn’t just me.

I have other flashbacks of when I was wishing I could die. That this was all over. That we would stop talking about the rape as a trauma, and we’d start looking at the context in which a relationship with a scary rapist was safer than the dysfunction at home. Both were wrong. One was a symptom of the other.

So where does this go? And how does it all fit together? And what of actual forgiveness? And how the fuck do I get there?


EDIT: more food for thought

So I just found this, and it seems to play into exactly what I am playing with at the moment.

A woman forgives her rapists (and writes a book, and speaks with him)

I find this confronting! Most of me wants to scream at her, and at him and at the organisers – what the fuck are you doing?!! What the actual fuck!

And the other part of me is jealous of her! Of her bravery and her honesty. And his honesty (if it is that, which I hope it is for humanities sake). And her humanity. And her grace.

I cannot fathom being in the same city as my perpetrators, let along wholly and completely forgiving…

There is definitely more food for thought!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s