Well it’s somebody’s fault!!! Surviving incest and childhood abuse

All these many years I have struggled with this internal argument.  What happened was not my fault!  I did not seduce my older brothers,  I resisted, I fought, I hid.  Not that any of that really helped.  But I was not a little Lolita.  I did not make the nuns in the orphange beat me, or beat the other children.  It was not my fault my mother became ill and my oldest sister was only 14, and she could not care for 9 children.  Nope,  not my fault for sure.  But it felt like my fault. Some how it was my bad behavior that led to 6 of us being put in an orphange.  Something about me caused my brothers to abuse me sexually.  Out loud I said-  NOT my fault.  Inside? oh all my fault.  Some how, not sure how,  just all my fault.  The struggle has been terrible, I’ve been suicidal,  depressed, anxious-  so damn anxious my counselor says I have PTSD.   The incest and the orphange were years ago,  but the psychic torture goes on until today.

But recently I came across this quotation from Robert Walser “It is a very painful thing, having to part company with what torments you, and how mute the world is.”   Well that rang so true!  Not the 2nd part,  but the first.

And I thought and thought and journaled and I think its true.  And then I thought about what is it exactly that is tormenting me?  It’s the paradox fault/ no fault.  I know it’s not my fault.  I know it.  But I FELT it was my fault.  And I just realized the reason.  Because if its not my fault,  then it’s my brothers fault.  They molested me.  That’s not my fault.  But they’re supposed to love me and care for me and protect me.  But they did not.

And the nuns in the orphanage and in school are supposed to have a vocation, they love Jesus,  and Jesus loved children.  Why would they hit?  Why would they terrify?  They are adults.  I was a kid.

And none of it was my fault.  But then, does that mean I have to be angry at them?  The nuns are probably long dead.  My brothers are alcoholics,  and pathetic.  It can’t help to confront them, and it can’t change anything

so, now….there’s nothing to do but accept the past and give up the anger and the rage and somehow move on.

Finish growing up maybe at long last.  Forgive them?

Well, that last-  I don’t know about that.  But i do feel a lessening of tension in my chest: a kind of light ness

There must be others who have felt this?  I wish I knew.


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