A Family Affair.

Today I recieved a phone call from my cousin. In this phone call I discovered a little more information relating to a situation that has haunted my past.





This is a subject matter some may not want to read. So, Take that into consideration before continuing.



I don't talk about this often. It's something that only a few people know. It's something I've been ashamed of most of my life. But, I'm learning that if I don't talk about it, and let it out.....then it consumes me like it has.

I can't be ashamed anymore. I need to move on.



At one time, I wrote about this...in extreme details. It was a decision I made cause I was angry with someone, and I wanted them to feel bad for making me feel bad. This is different. I write this solely to get it out. Because at this time, there are no ears available. No shoulder near.



The person that I love, is out of state for the holidays. It's difficult to finally have someone again, and.....then have to spend the holidays alone....And, being alone...I tend to over analyze things. Dwell, and pick myself apart. This disturbing news came at the worst time possible. So..I come here.

My escape from reality. My minds' lair of hope and faith.



So, yeah.



When I was very young I was molested by a family member. It occured repeatedly, and was something that scared me tremendously. I was bribed into silence, and...as a small child I believed that what I was gaining, was more than what I was sacrificing.

As a small child, growing up without siblings or friends...I found myself alone. Alot. Always playing by myself.

A family member started offering to play with me, as long as he could.....well..play with me.

As much as I grew to be afraid of it, and hate it....A part of me liked that someone was there for me.



I grew to hate this person with my every fiber. For years I spent my time blaming everything I did in my life on him. My every failure. My every fall.

It's something I never really let go of. As an adult, I understood more that it was wrong, and I never understood why it happened. Why it continued.



In 2001, after keeping it hidden from my family for my entire life...I decided the time had come to tell my father what had happened to me.

He was using drugs when it all occured, I wanted him to know what happened.



I went to the laundromat with him, and while our clothes were washing, I took him outside into the car, and I replayed for him the events that had scarred my childhood.

He cried. And I cried. And he said that he needed to tell me something.



He admitted that when that was happening to me, he was using drugs heavily, and....was doing the same thing to the person that was doing it to me.



I've never seen so much shame in someones eyes. I've never been so frozen silent. And, I've never cried with such intensity.

It became the moment I'd always wanted. I understood why it happened to me.

I've never been so disappointed in someone. I've never been so ashamed.



Every moment I spent hating the person, became a moment I had to redirect everything. Can I hate someone, who did something to me, in revenge for something that had been done to them? Is that completely fair?

I've struggled with it.

Today I learned that my father left out some details. And I learned that the person that did this, isnt sorry for what he did. He doesn't even recognize it. It's as if it doesnt exist in his world. Just something that happened like a ...flat tire. Or when the lead in your pencil breaks.

He thinks that I deserved it. He said, to someone else. That he would do it agn, because he needed to take it out on someone.



I can forgive certain things. I can throw a blind eye to people hurting me, and things of that nature.

But it's incredibly devastating when something so horrible happens to someone, and the people that cause feel no remorse.

Not even enough shame, to not talk about it to other people.



And...it is for that reason...that I truly say this person can rot in hell.

If anyone could understand how I feel, and what I went through, it would be him. Unfortunately.....he doesnt. And for that, I no longer hate him. I pity him.