I don't post much just look. This post however, hit too close to home to pass up.
I agree with most of you (who can argue with feelings, anyway, it's just where we're at), I just thought you might like to hear me.
I have been molested by my grandfather, uncle, cousins, Church Member, the classic "stranger danger" deal, been sold out for money, etc. The abuse started when I was 6 months and the hardcore stuff ended when I was approximately 9.
Statistics tell me 3/4 of all the population share facets of this type of abuse with me.
Forgiveness needs to be defined. I like some of the people who molested me, as people. I completely dislike the fact that they used me, raped me, tortured me, etc. They hurt me and I am forever scarred.
I have had the opportunity to discuss my being molested by my uncle with my grandmother, who used to watch from the doorway. She is dragged about by her emotions in placing blame.
Talking to her went a bit like this: "It wasn't his fault, you know. He was sad. He's had a hard life. You should have fought it, Michelle. But I don't think it's your fault. You're such a sweet girl. (puts head in hands) ****'s a good person. He fought it, you know. He didn't want to do it. He used to run from you because he knew what he'd do. He loves you. You need to see him. You're hurting him in not seeing him." She went on like that for hours, contradicting herself continually.
For me, forgiving meant giving up my hate and learning what Love truly is. Love IS truth. If you love someone you will give them the truth. In my case, I am terrified of my Uncle to the point that whenever I am in the same room with him I try to kill myself promptly. I'm a little girl and I hurt. Loving others means loving me as much as them and that requires extreme consequences for what they did. It is an incredibly big deal. This is why I cannot be around my Uncle and many others. It hurts me and is detrimental.
Loving my grandmother means that I cannot keep quiet. I'm ripping up her world which revolves around her son. She hates me externally for it, but like I said, she is bandied about by her emotions, and is on a constant roller coaster from it. She likes me sometimes too. She sends me Gypsy dresses for my Birthday, and pictures of us together.
Liking and Loving are two entirely different things. Steadiness, truthfulness, and always having the greater good for both parties. Liking on the other hand, is the skin of Love. It's flaky, changes, is mortal. It isn't easy to love. I want to be a selfish brat, and stamp my feet, and slit people's throats. I also want to be a doormat sometimes, and just be cared for in the psuedolove fashion I have been given for most of my life. It's easier on my feelings.
One of the most harmful responses the victim of sexual abuse has is an exaggerated response to what most people have from daily living.
I have found a peace in all of my pain. I am still healing. My soul has been ripped open, gutted, and left, open and hollow. I'm getting my stuffing back. The Old Little Girl is dead. But I'm being resurrected so to speak. I shriek a little at being touched in such hurting places in my emotional bubble. Someday, I'll be whole. I know this, and that is why I go on. Forgiveness is a big part of that, and I'm learning. Truth is also just as big a part of it. I want to run away from what happened, and hide in my closet and sleep all day, waking only to cut myself and throw up. But I can't.
I need to hold myself responsible for Now.
Thanks for this post. It's nice to hear from everyone. It's a hard subject. Best of luck in healing.