Pretty Little Box
I want to write about something that has been weighing on me lately. Something that isn’t socially acceptable and something that most people wouldn’t think is a healthy mindset – but it is my mindset and I want to own it.
I was recently introduced to the idea of forgiving your rapist/abuser. Not through them apologising to you but through you accepting what has happened and wishing them well, hoping the best for them and forgiving them and moving on. Sending the trauma on its merry little way.
This sounded so alien to me. I honestly laughed out loud. And then I thought if this makes me feel so uncomfortable then it is possibly something to explore. So for the past couple of months I have introduced this idea of forgiveness into my brain and have mulled over it, even going so far as to say the words in my head. Words I can’t even bring myself to type right now. I mulled some more after doing this. Nothing drastically changed me for me and I didn’t really expect it to. But in my thinking about this idea and tossing and turning it in my head for an extended period of time made me feel no less uncomfortable about it.
Now here we are, where I am back to my angry and unforgiving self. Casting this idea far from my mind. Why should I forgive someone who completely ruined my life and most likely doesn’t even know about it? Someone who should be in jail but is instead buying his first home, engaged, working a high paying job. Whilst the last grade I was able to complete was 9, have been working full time since I was 16, institutionalised, medicated, TRAUMATISED, so much more. I am still picking up the goddamn pieces of my shattered “life”. I am still thinking about suicide every day. 8 years later. Is that fair? I haven’t been able to work in over 12 months now due to mental illness. I have been trying (as I have been pretty much since I left school very prematurely) to get some form of education. I have now this week had to finally give in and engage with disability services with TAFE because I have no idea how to study things. I never learned. Instead I was abusing drugs and working my ass off getting paid minimum wage, being used and harassed by employers and fellow employees because I was so young and naïve. Why the actual fuck should I forgive the people who sent me into this spiral simply because they were selfish and wanted to cum that night no matter who it hurt? No matter how young this person was. No matter how drunk. No matter if you drugged me.
And people wonder why I think men are actual piles of flaming garbage. They ruined my entire life. You may think I just want to blame someone for my own mistakes, that I should get over it – its been 8 years right? Well how does someone heal from something that they denied the very existence of for the pivotal time where they could have gotten help? How do you turn back time? How do you make someone apologise to you for things they would never admit to doing? I ask again, why should I forgive someone who never even said sorry for ruining my life? Do I not deserve to be angry and sick? Do I not deserve to hate these people with every fibre of my being until I don’t want to anymore? Why do victims have to fit into a pretty little box of healing and forgiveness? I want to feel my anger until it dies organically. It is my unhealthy fuel. It is my fire. I am not ready to heal. I am not ready to be positive about this. I don’t know if I ever will be and I don’t think that is necessarily such a terrible thing. I think victims deserve to feel however they want, heal at their own pace. I think that forgiveness for me right now is not something I am interested in. I am more interested in justice. I am angry. I want someone to pay for what happened to me. I want people to feel even a teaspoon of the hurt I have had to live with every single day since.
I don’t care anymore if my illness makes you uncomfortable, if my attitude isn’t what you think it should be. We don’t exist to please everyone. I’m not forgiving a soul until they apologise to me. If you are reading this to keep tabs on me and are wondering if I still hate you, I do. I probably will for a very long time to come.