Re-opening the Wound
Today, as I read yet another graphic account by an actress about a situation in which she was sexually abused by a powerful and famous actor, sometimes publicly, I realized that I was bleeding again.
The wound that I thought had healed many years ago opened, and started bleeding and spewing pus everywhere. It was quite painful, and in fact, it was all I could do to make it to the end of the article.
When I did in fact make it there, I realized I was in a bit of a panic. I felt nervous, my heart was racing, and the back of my neck had started to sweat.
I know I am not the only one who might sometimes re-live the trauma of her many sexual abuses when learning about someone else's, and in a world full of abused people, it is no wonder there is so much pain.
I have worked on this issue all my life, and though I am better than I ever have been, I know that it will never fully go away. The pain I carry about the abuse, the shame I feel for not having done something for myself sooner, or better, or differently, will always be there waiting to be re-ignited. That pilot light will never go out.
That is why I am also horrified at myself when I read an account of a woman who set her husband on fire for having sex with her seven year old daughter. She believed shooting him would have been too kind.
And I agree with her. I truly believe he deserved that. This too, is shameful. I wonder if this pain can ever be healed. I wonder if this type of abuse, this type of violence will never end, because the pain that it causes seems bottomless and the violence it can birth is unforgivable.
What's more, I don't know if I will ever forgive myself for accepting it.
I don't know if I can forgive myself for not setting that man on fire.
If you are new to this blog, please know that my posts are always honest, but most of the time, much more inspiring. I just happen to be going through this presently, and I know no other way to move through it than to write. I thank you for your patience and hope reading this was not too traumatic. Next week I will be back to inspiring hope and love, with a dash of compassion.
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