No, I Wasn't Abducted By Aliens, Dad Abused Us!

[Kintsugi]

Hi Muse, glad we're here together.
I am currently trying to deal with setting boundaries and cutting ties with family members (my goal is to do this over the next year or two in steps). Denial is very hard to deal with. If they are saying you were abducted by aliens, then they need to pause and listen to themselves scrambling and scraping ridiculous things out of no where to explain their bad behavior and lack of responsibility. The refusal to believe, accept, and take responsibility is why I feel I need to move away from my family.

 

[Mercy]

I guess that I am blessed by being old enough to have most of my family dead. My brother is in such denial that he called telling me not to slander our grandparents. That hurt. In truth, you are the only person who needs to believe yourself. We'll all help when we can. Welcome.

 

[Powder]

Every single post on here is exactly right on and goes right to the heart of what this experience is about in all phases of it and all the challenges.

I am both encouraged that I am not alone and that someone out there "gets it" and also sad that this is so pervasive a human experience that is hurting so many out there at the same time. It feels so dark sometimes like the black plague. The emotions come in waves, each one threatening to wash away the illusion of light. But it's important to stand in my own truth and emit my own light. Thank you!

Muse

 

[Powder]

I'm having a hard week. A lot of the anger is coming up now. I spent some time today just thinking about how I could get a confession out of him, or my mom. I began to feel anger. It started with thinking about killing him, but that is no good. It's about getting the truth and a confession. But then, I ask, what good would that do either. It may hurt even worse. My T was this afternoon. She says this is about approaching the Acceptance part. That it is sadness and anger involved in Acceptance stage of grief.

My Dad had a shoulder surgery this week, and I was actually hoping he would die of surgical complications. I don't even feel any guilt about wishing he were dead. A friend of mine who was abused said you won't feel free until they are dead; I used to think it was a mean-spirited thing to say, but now I understand what she was talking about. When your Dad has raped you, and maybe your sister, and has always blamed you and denied it, and said I was a liar, then what else is there to feel? I wish I could find forgiveness, but now I see that it is a difficult thing to forgive. It's possible, but I don't know how at this point. Someday, I want to be able to forgive, to find peace. Instead, I am barely able to tap the intensity of the rage and the hurt from the abuse and the cover up. My whole family is taking his side. He plays the victim well and has all the $ in the family. To me, it's obvious what he has done and how my sister and I have shown signs of the abuse all our lives for those with eyes to see it. We both have had lifelong PTSD, and she has major issues. I appear more "normal" with my marriage intact, kids, degrees, responsibility and a job. She is "a mess." But we both have had the full gamet: eating disorders, cutting, suicide, sexual problems, relationship and trust issues, and major bursts of anger, but we both have spent our lives in denial. Until recently, with the flashbacks, I didn't know for sure, but know it all now.

He didn't die, and they are never going to reach out, apologize, or acknowledge. My grandma and even my sister who was also a victim, don't believe me. My sister acknowledges that "someone" raped us as kids, but she chooses to think the perp is an unknown. She has elaborate theories, all designed to aid in denial. I don't judge her, because until recently, I did the same. It reminds me of the Sara McLoughlin song "Hold on...Hold on to yourself. 'Cause this is gonna hurt like hell." It does. Having the illusion was a way of retreating into a fantasy, much more comfortably numb. Facing the truth is so painful, but it's like a heart surgery. Have the surgery or spend your whole life in denial of the fact your heart is dying, taking the whole thing with it.

Today, I am coming to grips with the fact that he's alive, and there is no justice, no way, to get closure or peace. He is going around telling people I'm crazy now, or whatever. My family basically all agree, although there is no evidence but his word. Part of me wants my sister to face it, and to start the healing and cleansing, but I know she's not strong enough. If she did, it would not be good. She can't handle it yet. So I wait. I don't wish this process on anyone, but I also don't wish being alone in this, as I am. If she remembered clearly and saw what I see, then she would have the choice to speak out as I did. If that happened, then I wouldn't be alone, and people would have to see that we can not both be crazy or lying. But even then, I doubt my mom would listen. She's taken his side, and that's that.

I have lost my whole family. It's not a total loss, as they are no good for me; but it's a loss just the same. My brother and sister, my grandma, and my mom, my nieces and nephews. I love them, and they are gone now. It's like I'm dead to them, a leper. The truth, so ugly, is distasteful and contagious. So they stay away.

The anger I feel is that he took my childhood, my peace of mind and gave me PTSD. He took away my family. He took my future with them, until further notice. I doubt I'll ever get any of them back, but who ever knows. I don't expect it and I don't think so. Hope is always there, but it hurts, too, because it's likely false hope.

My sister is the one who knows, and she is my biggest enemy now, screaming and cussing at me. The lashing out hurt. She is the one person who could validate me, and she can't. In fact, I didn't want to bring her into it, not ready, but mom called her right away.

I am lucky to have my wonderful husband and kids. I have much to be happy about. The pain inside is pretty bad, but I can handle it. But there are moments when it seems too great, too much.

I feel so sad for all of us today. In reading Kat's posts on flashbacks, I really felt a connection, and truthfully, I mourn for us all. We are so wounded. Here we are, we go day by day in pain. Soldiering on. I am so angry at these rapists: I wish a huge fire would consume them screaming and writhing before our very eyes, as we watch them get pulled down into hell. Then, I might feel justice has been served. Prison is really too good for these sadists.

Now, I look around when I'm in public, on the airplane, on a bus, and wonder which of these men is a rapist, parading around as a normal, law-abiding citizen. My eyes are on the lookout. My heart is full of anger. If 1 in 4 women have been raped, then how many rapists are actually out there??? Many, I'm afriad. Many. This angers me. No justice. I am just so angry today. It defies reason. There is nothing to be done with this anger except to speak it here, to write it down. It must come out. I am not only angry for myself, but for all of it. I am angry at all these guys. Is that normal? They are just a big group of people I hate right now. :devil:

Has anyone gone through this kind of anger? I am not a normally angry type of person. This is a new thing for me to process. There has to be something I can do with this anger.

I apologize if I offend or upset you with this. I just don't know what to do or say with such anger. When I read your pain in your posts, I want to kill these guys. I don't know why we don't have the right to kill them. Really. It would be fine with me if I was on a jury. That's how mad I am.

 

[Talya]

I wept as I read your post today, Muse. Selfishly, for myself, in a rage, as I could all too closely relate to the feeling of having one's childhood stolen. But also for the millions of people who share the feelings and experiences of those of us on this forum.

I also find myself looking around in public and wondering "It is you?", though not about the perpetrators, but about their victims. I almost want to ask other women sometimes and tell them it wasn't their fault. Tomorrow I am walking with Slutwalk Seattle and I am really looking forward to knowing, and feeling safe.

I am so sorry that your abuser still lives. He deserves more than the fiery hell and agonizing death that you described. The man who molested me, my grandfather, recently died. He was not my Mother's father, but was all of her siblings' father, and that, apparently, was the reason she would not support me in having him prosecuted. All of his daughters were molested by their paternal grandfather, and I suspect that my Mother was too, though she will never admit to it.

This is a lot of backstory, and I am not really sure that it has much to do with what I really wanted to share which is this: this man lead a depraved, sick life. He was a liquor-drinking alcoholic and hurt more little girls than just me, yet his family glorified him. Even now, on my Facebook page, their are posts by his children and grandchildren memorializing him and wishing him a happy Father's Day. And while he lived this disgusting, immoral life, he and his whole family consider themselves devout and good Catholics.

I had a lot of anger in me over not being able to get justice (and still do, if I am totally honest) for the sake of my Mother being able to keep her 'Big Sister/Matriarch' position in her family, but while he was dying, I got the type of justice that I could never have even dreamt of. My grandmother had long denied that he had done anything. When he was confronted, he said it was a 'misunderstanding' and that I was a 'stupid child, inventing things'. Well, she called, while he was on his death bed, with a confession that he had made to his priest about what he had done to me, asking for forgiveness. She also asked me, through my mother, to not judge him too harshly. Hah!

I collapsed on the floor, and could not breathe for what seemed like hours. I was overwhelmed by this feeling of freedom, like you mentioned in your post, violent, unrelenting rage, and joy at finally having been vindicated. It was right then that my healing finally began. (This happened at 29, but I had been in therapy since about 11 years old.) I had these fantasies that now, FINALLY, that the truth is out and people know I'm not a liar, that I would be accepted into his family with warm, loving arms and apologies. Nope.

So, the rage is still there. I have been, if possible, even further ostracized, as that side of the family got to know me and realized that, unlike them, I am open about what I have lived through, and I am resolute that the abuse will not go past me. One aunt did try to talk with me, though it was in a very defensive way. When I told her about her Dad's confession, she changed her attitude and said she hoped that I was able to get over my demons; I replied that the only demon in my life was dead.

You are entitled to your anger. We all are. Somehow these subhumans are still allowed to walk free in society with the rest of us, parading as decent human beings, and sometimes even enjoying success and unconditional love from the people they deceive.

I don't know what to some days with the rage, absolute, pure, engulfing RAGE, I feel. Tomorrow, I'll walk to get it out. I don't know what I'll do the day after that. I hope that this is helpful to you somehow, even only to let you know that you're not alone in how you feel. The legacy that you are starting in loving your family and providing for your children the childhood you missed out on is what will wipe out the atrocity committed against you. And that will be a more profound divine, cosmic, justice that what humanity is capable of offering. Take care.

 

[Nyx]

There has to be something I can do with this anger.

I don't know what to some days with the rage, absolute, pure, engulfing RAGE, I feel.

Find what lies beneath it and work on that. This is what you can do with the rage. Mind you, it doesn't just go away, you have to work at it. You have to take every feeling that lies beneath that anger and work with it, until it goes away. Then the rage will go away too.

I speak from experience when I say it doesn't go away. Anger is not a feeling, it is a response to other underlying feelings. This is the first thing to keep in mind. If you feel like saying "I feel angry", try to rephrase it like "I am angry. I feel ... [helpless/ashamed/small, etc]".

If you feel up to some hard work, read this [DLMURL="http://sexabuse.ptsdforum.org/threads/processing-anger.208/#post-2909"]post[/DLMURL] for reference. Anthony was kind enough to guide me through some processing.

I feel for you both. I know how consuming it is to carry all that anger inside. Unfortunately, no one can take it away from you, you have to work to get rid of it...

Take care.

 

[Powder]

Thanks to you all for your responses. The anger is still there, biding its time. I think you're right, NYX, that there is always something there to "fuel" the fire of anger. There must be some tinder, some wood, something to feed it. I asked my counselor about that. I said, for me in my experience, hurt leads to anger. She disagreed and said that anger is just an emotion that everyone has in them. If not one thing, than another, would fire it up.