We drove along the esplanade after our evening walk, my friend Whippet and I were discussing the shittest and bestest houses along the way.
“That’ one’s cool?”
“No that’s shit”
“and that one”
Realising we both have opposite tastes, mine clearly being the best,
I glance up and barely get to read the sign, but I do, Second Ave, the street it all began 25 years earlier.
I’ve driven past this street thousands of times before.
He abused me there, then, but now I’m here, there. . .
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I’m sitting here in my almost dark lounge room.
I am alone with the light of a finished movie that I had watched with my son’s earlier, the light is shining down on me like a spotlight and on my lap sits a overheating laptop, warming my thighs. My fingers flitting anxiously over the tabs and pages that I have open on my laptop.

One of those tabs open is a tab with his name, “R**** B****” followed by the word “Pedophile” in the search window. I do this often when I am alone and I hate it. I’m looking for a way, to bring him down, so that he can suffer down here too, where I do.
But I know in the depths of my heart, that this isn’t helping. This clouds my head.
It’s almost like I want to hurt sometimes.
I think I hope to find something to link him to anything, to another woman like me perhaps seeking some kind of refuge in the idea that there might be someone else out there just like her, a desperate need to have him caught, to brought to justice, but everytime I search, it ends in internet silence. And even if I did find something it would probably still be nothing. Nothing.

In the other tab my email is open with a weak exasperated almost finished email to the Police Contact asking them to call me so I can go higher up than I have, so that I can complain about the fact my case went no where despite the disgusting acts that he carried out. This is an email I’ve written and never sent many, many times before. I never send it because I know that this time I won’t be strong enough to handle the rejection all over again.

In the other tab is the contact page of Oprah, because I want to thank her for opening my eyes all those years ago when I realised what was happening to me was wrong, I won’t send it because she probably won’t read it but it’s nice to get it out anyway.

The other tab is the contact page for The Project with another half assed weakly written desperate plea for them help me do something about this unjust system.

My other tab open is my Facebook where my fingers linger occasionally over my online friends names, I want to try tell them how I feel right now, but I won’t because I’m so over talking about it. I’m so over not really knowing how to say “I’m hurting randomly right now” again because I do it so much already. I don’t even know what would help me anymore, I’m over writing back “I’ll be ok” with tears brimming my eyes. I’m tired of myself.

I never send them, I know the world has bigger problems.

I feel physically weak, crushed and numb at the same time, like a cloud has positioned itself over my body showering me in thick wet drops of sadness in a steady flow, drops of sadness, of hurt and the occasional actual tear drops onto me. They slide down over me, dampening my clothes and making me feel 100 times heavier than I am, eventually I might as well just fall right in and let my clothes slowly drag me to the bottom, where I can sit on the bottom, look up and watch the world go by in shimmering silhouettes.
Down there, it wouldn’t matter if I cried because I am already drowning in salty water, an ocean of my very own tears. 

I need to cry but I can’t get the already brimming tears to flow because I think I feel like if I do that; then I’m done and I will back at that same dark place I was only 6 months ago, on that bottom looking up.
I never want to be there.
I don’t want to be there.
I feel like there is closer than it has been before, now that I know where there is. Like a well traveled trail, the path is worn in, making it easier to get to.

No one can take the pain, no one can change it, he’s done what he’s done and now I have to somehow try and fix this heavy thick mess in my head and heart.
Will I be here forever on and off, when does it stop?
I feel so often, then and I am so often there. It tires me.
This will be there forever, I will partially be there, it’s part of me, part of my history.

So I’ll sit here in the dark alone, close the tabs that I can and again I’ll wait for it to pass.
Morning will come and I will start again.

But some tabs never close.

 

19 thoughts

      1. No. I don’t believe that from what I read and see on your blog. I see a woman who tenderly picks up the pieces from crimes done to her, holding them lovingly, looking at them and pulling them all back, reclaiming what was trodden on. No one has stolen your beauty, inside and out. No one. You shine!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Oh Antanika I wish I could just pop by and give you the biggest, bestest hug. I know this place you are in. It’s awful, fucking awful. I wish I had some advice, something that I could say or do that would make you feel better, but the truth is we are each on our own journey and have to find our own way. But you will find your way. You already have in so many ways, it’s just that the dark times are still there and there is still healing to do. It doesn’t mean they will hurt any less though. I wish they did for you and me and all the others. I wish I could take your hurt away. 💜

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I’m so sorry. It makes me so angry that we carry the pain from abuse for so many years, while (or so it appears) there is no consequence for the abuser.

    The more important consideration, however, is not the abuser but your own healing. I have had the same thoughts and feelings as you express so many times–the sense that “it’s almost like I want to hurt” and “this will be there forever.” I must have written similar words in my journal 100 times But over recent months, I have made some progress. I think it is because I have started to concentrate on the needs of the wounded girl inside of me. It’s not a straight road to healing, but over time I do believe that I’m not in the same place (“there”) anymore. My wish for you is the same hope and comfort that comes from loving and caring for that wounded self.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. This gives me hope, I feel like perhaps i am in a different stage of the healing journey, like this is the middle of it? It’s hard to explain.
      I am so glad you have seen some progress, I should look back to where I began in all this. Thank you so much. Sending all the love to you.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I think in the healing journey, there are long periods of feeling “stuck” with the same issues over and over. I was stuck on the issue of “but I have no proof that the abuse really happened the way I think it did” and “my memories are so fuzzy–what if I made it up?” This lasted 20 years and caused a lot of pain. Then finally my therapist convinced me that whether or not I had proof of exactly what happened, I had a wounded child inside of me who urgently needed compassion and care. That is what finally allowed me to make progress. At any rate, it’s a very individual, long and complex journey. Love to you as you travel this difficult road.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Wow, this is a big step yes, because feeling unable to prove to others what happened is massivley confusing because it is almost like you feel like if you could ‘Prove it’ then you aren’t as crazy as you think you are? Almost like you need it to know it really happened. proving it to yourself.

        Thank you so much, xxxxx

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      3. I echo Q’s comment that it’s not a straight road. Visually I see myself in a maze of sorts. Some days I find an exit to another, better part. Other days I’m back in the middle, confused, lost, but in a different way. But, like Q said, when I look back to when this all started, almost 9 years ago, I am not in the same place I was then. That might not help though cause you’re probably going “holy shit 9 years!”

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Hahah I am! 9 years! Just, such a long time, i’ve only been at this for 6-7 months. It seems insane to me that you have been at it for that long. I have a long path. But look at how wonderfully supportive you are. I really look up to you and word wisdom.

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Yes but the hardest years are definitely behind me. When I look back at how I used to react to triggers compared to now I can see how far I’ve come and it’s a very long way.

        For me the triggers are the worst. And the kids, my kids trigger me, I think for a lot of us survivors they do. Not for anything specific they do but just by being kids. I’m working on triggers ALL THE TIME. Not sure that will ever go away.

        This will be you too. It already is for so many things. Make a list. Carry it with you. Keep reminding yourself how far you’ve come so that even though you still have things you need to heal you SEE that you’ve kicked some of it in the ass and when you find yourself in that awful place again, cause you know you will, look at the list. It’s a great reminder of how strong, resilient, courageous and just plain amazing you are!

        Liked by 1 person

  3. I did pursue my case higher and even got a private lawyer, but the state prosecution service still found it didn’t reach the threshold – as many historic cases don’t. This AFTER repeated reassurance from my lawyer. I’ve filed the pain as now my separation is taking precedence but you certainly need to be in a good place. I’m glad I tried, I won’t ever regret my fight. But there will never be any closure for me. Perhaps it will never come. Maybe one day it will – I just don’t know. But I do know your hesitance – and I do know the urge to reach out to people. Everyone is different of course, but know that you’re not alone. Take special care of yourself xx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Penny, I have actually qondered how its been going for you, I must catch up on your blogs, I pop in and read them all in a go. Haha. So indulgent, I am so sorry you didn’t get the outcome you deserve and even sorrier that you won’t have the opportunity for closure. 😦
      You are a strong woman. I have no doubt about that.

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  4. I’m so so sorry for your pain. I was in an emotionally abusive relationship for awhile (which it DEFINITELY not as bad as your experience I’m sure- I don’t say it to compare, but it was just the lowest part of my own life so it’s the sadness I know) and I too get upset seeing that he’s just out there living a normal life, while I sit and suffer, not sleeping, and having that past hurt my current relationship. I wish I could give you a hug and make the pain better.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you.
      It’s all relative to the survivor, no abuse is worse than another, it all hurts. Like you probably feel it makes you feel a bit hurt that it’s ok for them to still be out there doing what they enjoy without baring scars.
      I wish I could hug YOU and make the pain better 😦

      Liked by 1 person

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