- Post starter
- #133
Was thinking yesterday what I would do if my parents died. I want them to be dead so that I don't have to worry about running into them, and to feel safe, perhaps peace even, on some level.
But I don't know what I'd do to feel "closure."
I want to see their bodies lying cold on the morgue slab. I want to see and touch the cold bodies, and to really know for certain that they are dead and cannot hurt me or anyone else ever again. This desire is so strong that I am afraid to tell you this, for fear you will think I am merely spiteful or vengeful. I don't think of it like that. In this desire, there is no malice. I feel a sense of peace, of forgiveness, and of letting the past between us die with them. I envision seeing them there, powerless, no longer alive, and I feel safe to accept them as my parents in that moment, parents incapable, finally, of hurting me anymore. I don't know why this is, but it makes sense to my heart, if not my head.
And yet I cannot imagine at all the miriad of triggers that would await me at their memorial service or funeral with family staring at me after not seeing me for years and all knowing that I rejected them for my allegations that they denied of severe child abuse and neglect. I want to know they are dead, but I don't want to have to hear people talking about the people they thought my parents were, because they are incorrect, mostly, but also because of the toxicity of the family in denial, the retraumatization of being in the trigger zone of photos, misconceived notions of what our family was, who they were, who I am, etc. I know that I would not go. And,
I'm afraid that I won't believe they are dead, even when I know that they are.
Because my grandpa, my father figure, didn't want an open casket, I still have dreams that he just wandered off in a fugue state and that he never actually died after all. I don't want my subconscious to believe they are still "out there somewhere."
But I don't know what I'd do to feel "closure."
I want to see their bodies lying cold on the morgue slab. I want to see and touch the cold bodies, and to really know for certain that they are dead and cannot hurt me or anyone else ever again. This desire is so strong that I am afraid to tell you this, for fear you will think I am merely spiteful or vengeful. I don't think of it like that. In this desire, there is no malice. I feel a sense of peace, of forgiveness, and of letting the past between us die with them. I envision seeing them there, powerless, no longer alive, and I feel safe to accept them as my parents in that moment, parents incapable, finally, of hurting me anymore. I don't know why this is, but it makes sense to my heart, if not my head.
And yet I cannot imagine at all the miriad of triggers that would await me at their memorial service or funeral with family staring at me after not seeing me for years and all knowing that I rejected them for my allegations that they denied of severe child abuse and neglect. I want to know they are dead, but I don't want to have to hear people talking about the people they thought my parents were, because they are incorrect, mostly, but also because of the toxicity of the family in denial, the retraumatization of being in the trigger zone of photos, misconceived notions of what our family was, who they were, who I am, etc. I know that I would not go. And,
I'm afraid that I won't believe they are dead, even when I know that they are.
Because my grandpa, my father figure, didn't want an open casket, I still have dreams that he just wandered off in a fugue state and that he never actually died after all. I don't want my subconscious to believe they are still "out there somewhere."