invisible forgiveness

People like to assume that I need to forgive what has happened. This is something that seems to come up a lot. It is hard to people to know what is in another's heart, which, in my opinion, is where forgiveness resides, but the difficulty doesn't stop anyone. They still like to believe if I could just forgive my brother than all would be resolved. The whole family could get along; I could stop having anxiety; I could stop having sensory issues; and the sun would shine all the time and a smile would be plastered on my face.

I would like to think that I have forgiven my brother. I certainly do not wish ill upon him, and I obviously have not forgotten anything he has done in the past. So what would it look like for me to forgive him? In my opinion it means being neutral. I have never told my children that my brother is a bad man. I have remained neutral in my explanations to them about why I am not allowed around my niece. I do not feel any hate towards him, but I also do not feel any love. All I feel is an dull sense of duty. Duty as a sister, such that if his family is in need I will do my duty, in a comfortable way for me. So, have I forgiven him?

Let's say that this situation was different. Let's pretend I was married to a man who belittled me, told me I was worthless, and all my friends were just pity friends. Would you encourage me to forgive him daily and stay in the marriage? Now pretend I was dating a man who thought that it was acceptable to hit me if he was upset with the way I folded his laundry. Would that man deserve my forgiveness every laundry day, I mean he really does love me. Finally pretend that I am in a crowded room and there is a man I have never met who decided to take advantage of the crowd by touching me in ways that are violating, even when I ask for it to stop and try to move away he follows and continues. Should I just forgive him and allow the crowd to excuse his actions?

I am hoping that anyone reading this could agree, that in every one of those situations it would be necessary to somehow take control of the situation. In an emotionally abusive relationship, end the relationship. In a physically abusive relationship end the relationship. In a situation involving inappropriate touch, get out of the crowded room. There comes a time when the person that is uncomfortable or being hurt has to put an end to it, otherwise the abuser is winning. They are maintaining control. So for the safety and health of the abused they need to do whatever is necessary to end the relationship OR cause the cycle of abuse to end.

I would like to emphasize the OR in my last sentence. I have been urged and encouraged to END all ties with my brother. I have not listened to that advice. I have never felt like that is a decision I have been allowed to make. There are family functions to consider, what about Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving. If I walk away from a relationship with my brother, I walk away from a relationship with my family, because, well, I am the one walking away. That's not a decision a person who has such a history can make. When I already feel unimportant to the family, I want to somehow maintain my space in the unit. Even if it is not what I think it could/should be. Why? Why is that position so important? Because I have no identity without it. But I think those thoughts are for another day.

The cycle of abuse can only be ended by the abuser. Even when the physical abuse ends, that does not guarantee the emotional abuse has come to an end. Unfortunately, in a family situation, the emotional abuse can be disguised as concern, it can be defended as an act of love. The only one to determine the appropriateness of the interactions is the abused, whether their view is skewed or not. In my situation, I can not stand being told what to do. It was an intrinsic element to my abuse. I can take direction, as long as directions are given to me in a loving manner. But barking orders at me, or flat out demanding I do things a certain way will not work with me (not that I am sure it works with anyone). I am not a puppet. This is the abuse that continues as long as there is a "relationship" between my brother and I. And of course, it's because he "loves" me.

On January 9th of 2013 I got a phone call from my brother, demanding I have my baby or "my FAMILY" would be admitting me to the hospital for "proper care". I was 3 weeks and 3 days past my ESTIMATED due date, similar to the nearly 4 weeks my mom was past her date when pregnant with me. I had regular visits with my midwife, there was no reason for concern. If there was a reason for concern I would have been directed to a medical facility by my midwife. I was already in labor at this point, I had gotten a massage the night before to trigger labor. As soon as that demand came out of his mouth I began to mentally fight my body and the birth. There was NO way in hell I was going to do what he said this time. Babies coming into the world is a battle that you can't win if you decide to fight though. My baby made his way into the world. Because I fought so hard, I refused my body's desire to be in a hands and knees position all day. I refused my body's desire for my hips to move in circles. I believe this prevented my baby from being in the most comfortable position for birth. He was delivered in a posterior position, at a whopping 11 pounds, it did not work well. I ended up with excessive bleeding, and was transferred via ambulance to the hospital. Like I said, babies coming into the world is not a force to be fought.

I had a close friend accompany me to the hospital, along with my husband, and my midwife. I left the baby in the loving arms of my mother to prevent the hospital admitting him. The doctor that fixed the damage the birth caused was gentle, understanding, and very kind. Once the procedure was done I was informed that I had visitors. Surprised as I was that I had visitors, I was more surprised who it was. My oldest brother, his girlfriend, and my other brother. My oldest brother and his girlfriend, smiled and nodded, said they were happy everyone was healthy and alive, and made a few jokes. My other brother on the other hand, took the opportunity to belittle my decisions for care. Started to demand that if I am to have more children I WILL do it the "right" way and go to the hospital, and I should stop being so selfish. Of course, it's definitely his place to tell me what to do. His job to decide what is best for my health, family, and MY body.

It didn't end there. He visited in the hospital twice giving demanding lectures every time; sent me long emails telling me what to do, where I went wrong, how I was selfish, and all kinds of other very nice, encouraging comments. I let it roll off my back. I had a beautiful baby, and two amazing toddlers. I ignored him. I felt empowered from all the hormones. It was incredible. So empowered I decided to change the course of the abuse. I decided he had no power. (That obviously is not one hundred percent true, it has not worked perfectly, I am not always empowered. There have been several times I have been powerless, alone, vulnerable, and empty. But it's a work in progress.)

Then when I started to stand up for myself , tell my family I didn't want to be around him. This whole forgiveness issue came up. Can't I forgive him, and still desire to end the emotional abuse? Or do I have to go through the abuse regularly and repeatedly forgive him? Or do I have to walk away from all of it?

misguided and confused

Every time that I have tried to "deal" with my past the same responses come up. I am dismissed as attention seeking. I am asked what I want to "get" out of it all. I am accused of stirring the pot.

It hurts. It hurts a lot. Maybe I am seeking attention. As a mother, I know that means that my children are lacking something if they are doing anything in their power to get my attention. I personally do not feel that is my goal. If that were my goal, I know ways that are much more painless.  

I have thought a lot on the question of what I want to "get" out of speaking up. I want to say, my only desire is to shed light on something that happens in families every day. That would be very noble, a cause behind the chaos in my head. But really, all I can say is, I don't know what I want. It is actually probably the hardest part for me to "deal" with. I am a semi motivated person. If I have a goal, I can reach it. If I want something I can get there. But in this situation, I have absolutely NO idea what in the hell I want. Or do I?

Maybe I want to die. That will bring an end about. This is not to say I want to cease to live, or that I will take my own life. But, upon reflection, trying to discern what it is I want, I want the hurt feelings, mean words, condescension, and second guessing to stop. But as long as I breath, as long as I am a part, it will go on. So that leaves me one thing to desire. Please, don't take this as a suicide note. I have much more to live for than you will ever know. 3 sweet faces who hug me when I cry, telling me that maybe I will feel better tomorrow. Little arms that don't really understand why I just screamed when they wrapped around my thigh, but are willing to cuddle when I calm down. Little voices that say, "I love you, all the way to the end". I will not shorten my life voluntarily. No, even if I feel like that is the only thing that will solve the pain, frustration, and sadness in my body. 

Along with the one thing I know I want (that I will not get until it comes naturally) I know what I DON'T want. Stop calling me beautiful. I don't want to be attractive. I don't want that attention. Believe it or not, I don't like all eyes on me. I never have, it makes me feel dirty. I would rather hide in a group, preferably the back of a group. You don't have to believe this (what woman doesn't want to be beautiful?) but it is my truth. 

I also want the accusations to stop. Accusing me of a selective memory, or of being misguided and confused. EVERYONE has a selective memory. My abuser has decided to not have any memory of the most awful parts of my life that he was a key player in. Misguided would make it seem like someone is helping me along in this journey. I am alone. Confused is not even close to the mix of emotions I feel.

What would you do in my position? Sweep it under the rug? Walk away? Go on pretending in life that you are "normal"? How do you think I should react? Therapy? Medication? 

I really am at a loss. 

Never Alone

All it would take would be for him to say it didn't happen, and nobody will believe that it did, except for me. I can't erase the experience. I can't make the memory go away; the anxiety; the sadness; the pain. Regardless, if the world knows, or I keep it to myself, those things will be constant.

But they will all think I am crazy if he denies it, making up stories for attention. I don't want attention. I don't want anyone to look at me, let alone pay me any attention. If I don't say anything I only have to endure the attention from him. But if I say something maybe they will write me off as crazy and ignore me and he will stop. Or it could get worse.

I could end up alone. I am there now, but what if it got worse, what if my family didn't care to try and help me. What if nobody wants to talk to me because I am crazy; and if I am not making stories up, I am a disgusting thing that has been ruined and abused. I should stay alone. I shouldn't tell anyone.

He's right, nobody will believe me anyway.

NO!

Almost everything I was afraid of that kept me quiet has come true. 

This is not the first time I have said anything about the abuse. I first brought it up to the family 10 years ago, 2 years after it had stopped. It was denied, I was brushed off, and an elephant moved in with my parents. 8 years ago my husband brought it up again, denied again. 2 years ago it was brought up by my mother, resulting in a journal retelling the events, denied again and this time I am NOT going to stay quiet. 

What happened was wrong, and it did happen. It is unfortunate, but it happened. I don't even care so much that it happened, as much as I care that HE is 'winning'. Not just in the story that is my life, but anyone's story that has an abuser. The abusers are winning, because nobody will talk about it. I am NOT alone. I will never be alone. I don't need other people to believe me to validate a memory, or make it more real. It is the choice of someone hearing (or reading) my story to believe or not. 

Since I have said publicly that sexual abuse happens and children need a safe place to talk about it,  I seem to have lost my family. It is a tragic thing. But there is a part of me that wonders where they have been my whole life. Why stop pretending now? My friends have surrounded me and comforted me, but is there ever a replacement for that feeling of family? I have always wondered what it would feel like if I were to be believed wholeheartedly and someone were to choose me over someone else. I will never know that feeling. He is more worth a family I guess. Or maybe I am just strong enough to continue on without. 

I have been called vindictive, cowardly, and delusional in the past few weeks. I have been attacked, and I have been shown that the feeling of being alone was very real. 

But I have also been called brave, empowering, and strong in the past few weeks. I have been offered shoulders that I didn't know understood, and I have seen the power of a community. I will never be alone.

I see being alone as a very real fear. While I was growing up, my dog kept me company, and my cat. They both did things to show me support. I am not sure if they did it intentionally or if there were just karmic lessons my entire life, but I am glad I was not completely alone. I have been able to speak openly to close friends for years and found reassurance that they do not find me repulsive for the things that have happened in my past. They aren't even upset with the ways I handled my emotions poorly and those were choices I made. They still love and see the present me.

I still fear being alone late at night, like right now, when everyone is asleep. I want to sleep, but I can't, because my mind will not slow down. Why did I have to be right? Why can he erase it from his past with denial but I can't? Why am I being called names? How did I find such an amazing community that will never let me be alone?

Nobody is alone in a struggle, it is just finding the person to talk to and cry with. I will find them tomorrow.