I Opened myself wider

 Sometimes I just get so fed up about people talking about being and wallowing in a victim status. I understand each person deals with their own set of situations. However,  when someone says they were a victim and they are in this continous state of wallowing, I think of what my father told me... "Suck it up!"

Perhaps this is the cruelest thing a man can say to a child after raping them. Then going on to say that I would just do better to stay silent. So many times, I get insensitive of those whiny, wallowing types of people. I am sure it all comes down to the fact that being cold and out of tune is easier than in constant awareness of the "sacrifice" you were.

However there are some major setbacks to being silent or suppressed to the emotions. The incapability to trust and love anyone too deeply. Safer to just admit that you are not worthy. That all that has happened, you asked for it. Ah and then self loathing begins,  coupled with severe allowances of self harm. All those times when I wasn't "heard", hurting, I cut with glass, nails and burnt thumb tacks.

I couldn't even love myself, much less trust who I was. It took me, so many years to learn that I have a worth. It may never be supreme to some, but for me, I am here. Staying quiet. Being stoic in not saying a word, tears you apart inside. All building this great dam that needs repairs, daily. That is how I felt inside. Some days the explosion happens and I wander off so no one can see the burning of hatred of myself. Of my own chiding. 

Kind of why being friends with people is, truthfully, terrifying. To have to let them see those darkest bits of me that I am even scared of, on occasion- ooh no! And yet I crave for friends. I just don't dare tread my life into their hands. Why? Oh because you should NEVER allow people to see your innards, your weaknesses for that only helps them to use it against you. To tear you apart, light to darkness.

It took me decades to realize that none of this, rape and sexual assault, was my fault. None of the excess abuse was about what "I helped them desire." No.. I was innocent. Yet I kept maintaining this innocence for so many to see. A facade because I didn't want to be called all those names I had been before. (Slut. Bitch. Whore. Slave/His servant. Daddy's girl. My favorite. Baby girl. 

But what damage did I create? So much. So, so much. I hurt just as many people as others hurt me. In truth, how am I any different than those who took their time, slowly, to abuse me? To harm me? AM I THE SAME?

Some where deep inside my mind I know there is kindness. There is compassion and warmth. Yet I am so uncertain if it is wise to let people see too much of those qualities of mine, for the sake of possible pain. I would not want to be harmed by giving bits of me to others. 

Perhaps that is the quake that is leftover from all those years of assault. Perhaps that is the midset of me adjusting, adapting to my environment.  Am I wrong to be like this? 

I, now, even wonder what good was therapy when the only way to "empty" is to just paint or walk in nature. What good did voicing my experience, my abuse, my rape to anyone, everyone do? All I feel now is numb, exposed and judged.

Why didn't you report it? Why didn't you say anything? 

Those are the questions I get a lot. They even weigh heavy in my mind. Why did I stay silent? Why didn't I tell my mom, my grandparents, my friends, my teachers? 

It is a very good line of questions but what it all boils down to is - "who is going to believe you above me" line from my dad. Seriously? Who would believe me? I don't know. I just don't know. 

And that is what makes me press forward in a private mode. So many people ask me about my past. Very rarely do people get passed anything but a superficial conversation. And when they do, my experiences scare or scar them. As though the judgment of my life just tainted their minds forever. 

And that is something I never want to do to people.

That is why so many people see me as distant, insensitive, cold and quiet. There is no reason for me to open up when they really don't want to know. They just don't want to know about how deep and painful my life, my past was. It is easier to lay the frustration and memories at God's feet. This is where I know I will not be judged for my silence.

That is why whiny, continous victimized talk irritates me. I have learned to just move on. I have remembered being a survivor is more strength pulling than to say I was a victim. And to explain, I am a victim, still says I am still have open wounds festering. I don't. I still have scabs, scars, memories and triggers but they don't define my every day. 

Again I recognize that we all deal with grief and healing differently, but I wanted many to understand that I am still working on accepting others. That is why someone to says they were wronged in a minor incident of words, a "victim", makes my cold exterior and irritation want to slap them. Find your peace. Find the hope within all this, stop being a victim and start realizing you can be a survivor. And for those who play at being a victim for attention - please get help! That is not something to ever "act" at being. It isn't a livelihood. Stop scamming the true victims and survivors of their past and healing. It's disgusting how people like to take on another person's experience to gain attention. It's very hateful and cruel and all you are doing is helping the abuser by assaulting us over and over again. Giving them the power they had once. 

And for those who may come at me for being insensitive, don't. This is my healing, my being able to express my experience.