Friday, April 9, 2010

letter to my abuser

I could not sleep. I found myself turning it over and over again in my mind. I found myself feeling unsettled and fearful.I thought about you. I tried to imagine you as a child, helpless and small.I tried to picture you with your abuser. I wanted so much to connect with that image. I thought it would somehow give me some sense.Some kind of understanding to why you hurt me. Why evil seemed normal to you. You were in my shoes once, was it normal then? When you were small did it feel normal? Or were you like me? Did you freeze at ever touch, feel sick at the thought of it. Let your soul leave your body to escape the pain and fear? If you were like me, then how could you go on to hurt someone else in that way? Not just some one else, no not a stranger, your child! I was your child! I was a flesh and blood part of you. Did you hate your self that much that you would damage a part of your self to the point that they would carry that pain there whole life, long after you were gone!? You made the choice to hurt me! Did you need to regain your power. The power taken from you by your father? Did doing the same to me make it feel better for you? Did it make you feel like a man? In your last days I gave you forgiveness, sympathy and love. I gave you, the devil himself, forgiveness! Sympathy! Love! Would you have given that to your abuser if you had the chance? I do not think so! when you abuser died you just sent flowers. You did not know him, you could not forgive him.The flowers cost $27.50. Not sure why the price sticks in my head. Because you never got to tell him that he hurt you or ask him why, maybe you can understand why I had to ask you and push you to get my answers. I hated you for so long.I hate my memories of you still. You broke my bones and used my body as if I had no feelings at all. I was your toy, a possession with out feelings.That is how you treated me. I learned not to feel physical pain, I shut off from my body and no pain can reach me. Break my arm and I did not cry. I would just sit quietly on the floor. I would tell the lies I was told to tell in the car on the way to the ER Like your "good big girl." I remember sitting at the foot of your bed while you slept holding your loaded gun. I wanted to kill you, to shoot you and watch you die. I wanted to rid myself of your evil. I would always walk back upstairs and put the gun away and think that I was a coward. I know it would have been easy to kill you it was hard to in the end forgive you and myself for what happened.I have written you so many times. I have thought of you everyday sense your death. I wonder if God exist what you had to face in death. I hope you got a life review and had to experience things from my perspective. I wonder if God forgave you? Are you in heaven or hell. I think sometimes that maybe you are with me and feeling my pain. I am not sure what became of you. Are you at rest? The secrets and lies you let behind life on in this world, the pain and horror are still fresh.You are not forgotten here. I just want you to know dad that I am telling and I will not stop. I will survive you and your abuse. I hope we meet on the other side.I hope I can say what I need to then. I hope to maybe view your soul and gain understanding and peace. I have tried in this life to have that and will keep working on it. It is crazy, I fucking hate you and I fucking wanted you just to be a good parent. To love me and treat me well, encourage me and hug me! You did your best in public to pretend but we both knew the truth!I was your child you fucking bastard! I will survive the damage to my soul I will move forward I will not ever be like you. Thank God evil is not in my make up! I have prayed for you. I pray for me. I move on one moment at a time. I will heal my soul and my heart. I am not your victim anymore.

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