I Declare

I went to support group on Friday. Its been 3 whole weeks since I “graduated” and I felt guilty for skipping last weeks support group so I trudged through the sleeting rain and gazillion mile an hour winds to go and work. Well…ok…maybe not work exactly…more like see Lorraine and Carla and catch up on the gossip…I just wanted to make an appearance…not actually SAY anything. So...anyway…as I was saying…I went to the support group. Lorraine and Carla were there…we had a good 20 minute chat before group started and got all caught up and Lorraine told me that she didn’t go to the support group last week either, so I didn’t feel so guilty for not going *lol*

Group starts and this girl I’ve never met starts talking about something she witnessed when she was a young child ~I think she said 5 years old~ and how the man that did this horrible thing to this other child is still going to her families church and how her entire life she didn’t know what to do with her fear of him and a situation like that happening to her. (sorry I am not specific, she was really vague)

Brennan ~therapist~ jumps on that and starts to push her a little bit about what carrying around that fear is giving her. It must be giving her something otherwise she wouldn’t be doing it. He works with this girl for about 30 minutes and then he looks right at me and says to the group “can anyone else relate with residing fear from a traumatic event?” *groans* I sit silently, he keeps staring at me. The entire room is quiet…no one really knows what to do with the story this girl has told yet.

I finally say “I think I can relate to this, but I am not sure how”…the only reason I opened my mouth was because Brennan kept staring at me. He smiles at me ~that’s when you gotta be afraid of Brennan…he never smiles unless someone else is going somewhere really uncomfortable *sighs*~ and says “well, what are you thinking of Christine?” *bangs head* I just wanted to see my friends and catch up on the gossip damnit!!!!

I glare at him and say “when I was 21 I was raped by a boy I had dated for almost the entirety of high school…*insert room gasp here*…I did what I was supposed to. I pressed charges. I sent him and his friends to jail. I went to “surviving rape” counseling. I followed all the rules. He was released from jail in 2004. He served 5 years. His friends served 2 years. They were out in 2001. I am constantly wondering when I am going to bump into them. What would happen, what I would say, what I would do.”

Brennan then says “What do you think you would you do or say if you bumped into him and his friends?”

I look at him like he has three heads and I can’t decide which one I want to smack first and said “I would kill him.”

He sighs, looks at me and shakes his head ~another tell sign with him, it means he knows you don’t wanna work and his getting ready to give up on you and move on so someone else in the room can work instead ~ and says “well, murder has definite behavior consequences, so barring that, what do you think you would do? What would you want to say to him and his friends?”

Aha! I think I am catching on to his train of thought now…so I blast out “how fucking dare you???!!!!!!???!!!! would pretty much sum up anything I have ever wanted to say” and then Brennan sighs again. He looks at me and says “the only things you would ask him are questions? You wouldn’t want him to know what he has done to you? The impact his assault has left on you? The only thing you would settle for are questions that don’t have answers?”

I stumble a little bit…I have never actually THOUGHT about saying ANYTHING to him. I went to his court appointed psychiatric sessions because I was ordered to. I heard everything he needed to say. I didn’t even think that I had anything to return.

Brennan watches me toss this new idea around in my brain and then says “Christine, What would you want to declare to him and his friends? Even if you can’t address them in reality you can still address them in your therapy.”

I pipe back with “I sincerely don’t have a clue what I want to DECLARE to him or his friends. Why do I have to declare anything? I think the fear they left me with isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Brennan just smiles and says “I think you have to declare something to take more of the power back from this situation. How can you expect to fully heal when you won’t recognize the feelings you have? It seems like you do have something to say. Think about it a little bit and bring it back to group next week. We’ll stop there” and I got to go home for the weekend.*bangs head*

So….what do I want to declare?

20 minutes later I am still sitting here staring at the screen…*sighs*

Dammit. This is hard. Ok. I think I have an idea.

September 16, 2006

Dear ******,

It has been 8 years since you attacked me. Attack…It’s such a light and breezy word full of misinterpretations. It has been 8 years since you and your friend’s raped me and almost murdered me.

When we were a couple in High School I never would’ve imagined that this is how we would turn out when it was all said and done. When I was 16 I actually thought that you were my “forever.” You were the first man I had in my life who truly showed me what it meant to feel treasured and cherished. You were always so concerned about my safety and my happiness. If I worked late you were always waiting to take the bus home with me, or drive me once we got our licenses and vehicles. You used to create all these weird and wonderfully romantic ways to celebrate us. You taught me that it was GOOD to dream. You taught me HOW to strive for what I really want. I loved you.

Breaking up with you is still one of the hardest things I have ever done. I know we both tried to hang on and fix what was wrong but at 17 neither of us had a clue how to do either of those things. Life wasn’t meant to be hard. Teenage love wasn’t supposed to be fueled with fights and anger. The day we sat down in those bleachers and I actually said the words “******, I am sorry, but we are over” was almost impossible for me to do. The fact that we agreed to still go to Prom after we had split was in a lot of ways even worse.

You have changed my entire life. In one hand you gave me dreams and in the other hand you killed them. In one hand you filled me with love and in the other hand you filled me with rage. I wish I could say that I understand. I wish I could say that it’s OK. My heart wants to forgive you but my brain keeps refusing.

The night you raped me you left me with a completely shattered knee, damaged internal organs, broken ribs, severe infections from the cigar burns, and broken collarbones but the thing that hurt the most was my heart. I spent months in a coma and years in surgeries to reconstruct my knee, reset the broken bones, heal the internal organs, skin graft the burns you allowed your friends to give me, and under a laser to remove 99% of the scars. When we were in trial I was still covered in bruises. You used to look at me and cry. Your eyes used to beg me to forgive you.

Your lawyers were doing everything they could to make me look like a whore and you sat at the table watching me and crying. You allowed these random strangers to brutalize me over and over again and I was supposed to love you enough to forgive you. When you took the stand I was shocked. Your defense team asked you about the sledgehammer and you said “I don’t remember doing that to her.” They asked you about the knife and you replied with the same answer. The jury kept looking at me like something was wrong with ME because you were the only person involved in that night that was crying. I refused to give you any more emotion ******.

Whenever I hear someone say “I love you” I instantly flash back to the night you told me the same thing. The only difference is you were holding a knife to my throat when you said those words to me for the last time. I am so full of confusion and resentment towards you.

As time has moved on and I have healed whenever I remember you I instantly remember the good times, the fun times, the crazy teenage things we used to do and then it all slams back to me in a huge ‘oh yea’ and the memories turn into a nightmare.

I am so angry at you. I am even angrier at myself for not being able to give up my memories of our happier times. I know that no one is really going to understand this conflict. I know my friends will exclaim something to the effect of “how can you still think kindly of him” but ******, despite everything, I don’t sincerely hate you. Maybe that’s an indication of growth, or maybe that’s an indication of how deluded I am. I am trying to view it as me taking back some of the emotional power you have had over me.

I want you to know how badly you hurt me. I want you to know how horribly you impaired me. I want you to know that because of you I suffer every day. I want you to understand that in my darkest moments I want you to die. I want your death to be slow and painful. I want you to be surrounded by people that only want to scar you and I want you to feel your heart being ripped out of your body and trod upon.

You used to tell me that you loved my poetry. I wrote a lot while I was in the hospital recovering from what you did to me. I don’t think you will like any of it now. That thought gives me some satisfaction. It gives me some power. I want to include some of the things I’ve written about you but my motives are purely vindictive and that won’t teach me anything. Despite all that I still want you to read them and I want you to feel the hurt and destruction you’ve caused.

In my fantasies, if I was to see you on a street I would walk right up to you and start screaming at you. I would physically beat you until you too had to be taught how to walk again. I would recruit who ever I could to join in and help me break you. In my darkest moments I would take you to a deserted farmers field and hold a knife to your throat while other people destroyed you. I have this vision of you tied to a tree. In my vision someone nails your penis to a piece of wood and hands me a torch. In my vision I light the torch and watch as you scream, cry and beg.

In my reality, I would never underestimate you. I would run for cover and hide from you. You didn’t feel it necessary to kill me 8 years ago but you might change your mind. I am under no illusion that I can over power you physically but I know I am stronger than you will ever be mentally. I know I can out think and out maneuver you.

In some way I want to thank you for putting me through hell. You gave me the gift of caution. The fear you instilled in me has its benefits. I am coming to terms with everything that has happened since the day I met you. I have changed from the 15 year old girl with stars in her eyes that you met and fell in love with. I am a 29 year old woman now who knows her worth and her strength.

Even with the knowledge of hindsight, even if I had known what was going to happen to me because of you, I still wouldn’t trade those memories in. I wouldn’t erase you from my life. I have nothing left to give you. I have nothing left to feel for you. I have nothing left to say to you. I just wanted you to know.

Christine.