Friday, 20th November 2015
Dearest Friend,
I'm feeling slightly lifted from the depths and...I have James to thank this time!
I really don't know what I'm doing, in terms of connecting with James or sticking to this impractical "vow" to stay away and leave him without having to put up with me and my personal ordeals...
The poor guy has got a heart of gold and so much love and endearment to offer, and yet he's wasting his efforts on a venomous creature like myself; too cold and selfish to appreciate him...
You might say: "Ah, Jay, don't be ridiculous thinking like that... It's really not that difficult to return the favour!" And perhaps it's not for you; what with you having the presence of mind to foster all kinds of affection and willingly taking on the intensity of other people's infatuations as they express a great deal of gratitude...
But I'm in no position to step any deeper into his emotional commitments, although my physical presence might be present and listening intently to James's every promise to keep me above water.
As for giving compliments goes, I have to take the femininity approach; for James truly can be a "darling" in the way he offers and gives his support with full magnitude.
I don't want to give the impression that he's in any way manipulative or deceiving - anything but, to be fair... Whenever I express my frustrations with James or show opposition, this is really coming from my perspective on our dynamic and how we, really do, clash often in personality. That's not to say anything I've previously written is to be false - I really do disagree that my inability to commit is down to my family's failure to show me love.
If anything, me lacking a parent's love has made me a more sensitive and compassionate person; well able to acknowledge how love is lacking all over the globe and not just in the confinement of my bubble and near-experience...
In saying that, I don't mean to imply that the love we see in today's world is insincere, but that the essence of love lacks from expression.
People (including me especially!) are afraid to open their hearts, to allow access to their most vulnerable voids or to allow the world in general to know of their inner person and its eye on creation...
I don't know by what power but we've been pushed to the point that we hold onto identity masks and attach our awareness of things in very confined quarters - basically envisioning missions and results in the narrow way that we do and leave no room for world change... The world changes once we begin to change our own perspective in that possibility!
It begins with one soul and evolves into a universal force of consciousness. It isn't caused merrily by personal philosophy, following secondary examples or even proving the physicality of Change's presence, but simply experiencing that new perspective from the very process that takes place in our growth; through transforming our attitudes upon challenges, results and the very thinking in our day-to-day lives...
It is living fully, taking on the fears as they come with true dedication to make sense of your "why" and reflecting on the reasons for this truly rewarding piece in your life that Fear allows you to incorporate, and it is loving humbly; those three elements that are those you cherish dearly, the world for its tools in your coming experiences (as the past ones can only be teachings for reflecting if necessary) and your very self for the things you hold within and it's born-given blessings that are valuable offerings to your present place on the planet!
It's funny that I know this is so (at least coming from my sight looking towards creation and present experiences), but it's hard to present these ideals when we're so stammered by the sufferings happening around us daily and the hopeless thinking faces that see no light motive to act on.
It's hard to know where to begin, to free myself from my own pessimistic castle of affairs or to even catch a sign that speaks straight to the heart...
Many people look to religious practice to keep themselves guarded and others do the very opposite (or in most cases varying both!) and seek comfort through recreational drug use and keep their heads in the sand, all the while our pains often numb in the shadows and often left unquestioned...
Humanity truly fears the persons they see in the mirror, afraid of their own weaknesses and for generations have compete with their neighbours in defence; from Survival of the Fittest in its truest form of superficiality!
Pardon me, it appears I've lost contrary in my explanation of love in the above layout.
To simplify, if I may, I'm trying to show you that it's really not because of me or my background that I lack any concept of love towards James.
In truth, it's not easy to be emotionally open as we'd often like to anticipate, and we can see that this issue is rampant worldwide; lacking in visibility from families or in our romances...
But what can we do? The facts are what they are and this is an evident challenge as to why Change is hard to grasp or even accomplish ideally to the full.
I know James is not suited for me, in terms of having an intensely emotional relationship and being able to compromise to the best of each other's interests.
The reality is: we're each in a different place mindfully... And yet we care for each other regardless and appreciate another. However, the form of that appreciation reveals itself in a one-sided fashion; James appreciates me as the person I am and because of what I've overcome in the past and I'm delighted he's come to terms in his sexual identity and is becoming more and more comfortable with this reality – but conversationally when our opposites in personality show up he becomes disappointed and me irritable...
It's truly a vicious cycle - the kind I'd gladly desert but you'd first have to ask God to give me another personality!
Anyhow, I've filled you in enough on our dynamic that you're probably sick of Jay repeating his observations and going around in circles.
But that's exactly it - I write this way because the unfolding experience is on-going that way.
It would be wonderful if I could set the stage lights and change events to a preferred outcome, but reality proves to repeat itself over and over in my case!
Speaking of events, we have one forthcoming and this is the kind any sided party would prefer to ignore by choice. But past abuse has led this one to occur...
It's that possibility of receiving justice that makes us anxious and it's that worry of more injustice inflicted upon us that makes us think bitterly. With my ignorance in law I think you're really flipping a coin and hoping the court procedure is enacted with good will from our legal team and that the case is strong enough to evoke the judge or jury...
It's common sense that, of course, it's morally wrong to sexually abuse kids when expected to care for them (especially as a family member or guardian), but the court have to go by specific formalities and the case goes to a vote - Is He innocent or guilty of molestation?
Apparently, it's a lot more complicated than putting someone away for inhumane and criminal acts - Is the case strong enough to go ahead?
It's hard to believe that the possibility is just over one week away (ten days is it?) and yet, me being further away from the others, I've heard little or no news of its upcoming...
You don't know how lonely it is, to be this close and yet so far away from the end of everything.
I feel so numb; I can't even be sure I "feel" anything at all about this. And that's what kills me - why am I not overjoyed that the court day is soon and confident to stand up and do what's right?
It's not that I sympathise with Him in any way - that's certainly not my feeling (!) - But how can it be that He's caused me to stand still and daze back at those horrifying nights?
I'm over it, I am - so why can't those hurts just vanish?
They serve no purpose in my now - they're so unneeded; let them stay in the dark where they belong... I shouldn't be haunted by this anymore, for my Surviving heart shows I've already won this battle!
Wow. It makes me emotional that I'm finally able to tell myself this... Its one thing uttering THE word but honouring that truth in your heart is another thing altogether. I really have won this already - I don't need a court branding to make me see it's facts anymore; for my diary has been my saviour ever since the start of this healing process...
And, I might safely add, my survival of abuse has made me a stronger spirit, more motivated to give love in unique ways – far beyond than most would ever suspect!
What matters is that God has never deserted me in this struggle; if anything this "test" put my character to the challenge and has enabled me to see love as the answer; not bringing more suffering onto others from what once was inflicted onto me...
This has proven to me that an unimaginable act like rape can be made seen with meaning through reflecting on the pain and overcoming the fears that come with that process; all by seeing things in a new way...
I told you; if I'm willing to face up to Change (as it must start from within!) then so can you and anybody else in their challenges!
Apart from finding comfort in my faith, if I were to come back down to Earth I’d have to say the real support to me at the minute is James – and I must explain why…
It’s not like being in buzzing company with Carol and Lucy, where I can in fact put all the pains and frustrations of my heart aside and pretend it’s not there.
No, with James all our conversations are raw and take on greater intimacy than your typical façade on carefree friendship; it goes beyond the laughs, the jokes and making fun of daily incidences.
Sometimes I find myself longing for more of this quality in connection, but it would be superficial of me to expect that and especially false if James were to behave as such…
What is it that’s wrong with me?
I can’t make my mind up; whether I want pure adventure or having hat sincere confidence to unravel all of my very being with someone who approaches life’s challenges with an objective taking and can break all the barriers that get in the way… True, James has a way of challenging my viewpoints and loves a debate – but lately I’ve grown to appreciate that our differences of character are beneficial and in fact educational by practice. I no longer find his objectives on my family to be attacking, nor intrusive, but actually I feel his approaches are enlightening.
There was a time where I thought I had such hatred in me towards my parents but James helped me put those feelings into perspective, and I’ve learnt that they’re really old feelings which have embedded overtime.
Okay, you might laugh from me mentioning the word hate, but I can’t express how else life-long disappointment and being made like a stranger would lead to those notions of contempt.
I didn’t want to bellow my yearnings to show a need for unconditional love because in the first place I didn’t have parent type bodies to turn to.
It was easier for them that I participated when present in company, said less and “got on with life”…
And here’s the worst part: I’m a complete contradiction because even though It’s never surprised me that my parents can go through months without my hearing from them, I still yap approvingly like an excited kid when they show a momentary interest; it could be a phone conversation about the future, a planned meeting or even a slight sign of care whenever we encounter each other by chance. All very superficial exchanges, of course.
But, as I was saying, James has a way of helping me keep an open mind… Often I’ve inwardly questioned whether his advice may be impractical, by me holding a positive image of my parents in my head and being patient with them.
I often contemplate whether they even deserve such inner forgiveness; should I be so quick to let go of their absence in childhood, when I needed them most? I suppose as an outsider it’s very easy for James to make a quick judgement.
But I don’t think he fully has the advantage to give me the answers, to curb this love/hate relationship that I have with Lisa and Owen, for he hasn’t lived in my footsteps to know the first thing that brings my heart to ache when I imagine a love that’s not there. He can’t know the extent of my longing, as well as my childish disappointments, because he’s never experienced what it’s like to grow up being very much alone.
I can tell myself that there were others who wanted to help, would have cared had they known, but I honestly don’t think it would make a difference – because it can’t overtake the place of my Mum and Dad – as they were the figures responsible for my sake and well-being.
The truth is, the majority of my family members wanted to cover up their shame and tell me they could have done much differently, without keeping in mind my cry out for helps…
What benefit is telling me of the possibilities that never came to be or uttering all the “if’s” when I express emotional pains?
How come in the present there is an intense silence in the air and pitied feelings unsaid?
Why don’t they do the one good thing and get their wonderings off their chest?
It would save all of us from misery and better yet free me from this anxiety…
What Nanny G occasionally asks me out of desperation is why I never trusted in her and told her something of the abuse.
Like I’ve said countless times, you really have to be in the situation to understand why I shut down, went into shock and avoided opening up about something like that.
You’ve also got to bear in mind the age I was at the time and the build-up confusion I experienced as a result of being raped by a relative; you never fully understand what’s happening but know it can’t be right.
The very act does things that make verbalizing it to be incomprehensible, and it’s disappointing that that’s mostly my family’s focus: Why not say something sooner?!
Well, let it happen to you and then try standing in my footsteps… It’s not easy!
There is one thing in me that I know to be true and this feeling I’ve never expressed with anybody – not to James or even Carol and Lucy…
Deep down, it’s not the sexual abuse which I can’t fathom (for this has been an historical event which probably will never be proven in court from my case) but actually it’s the family dynamic that has shown to be the root of the problem!
I say this not out of pointing the finger but the breakdown of these events – that being because of all the forms of abuse and neglect – has shaped a purely bitter attitude as a whole, presently.
Make no mistake; I’ve seen my family try, really try to mend things and show closer interest in my sisters and my activities, and even show a new heart in their coming efforts and presence.
That being said, they need to get their facts straight and remember it’s none of our faults that all this has come to be – it’s not fault of the social workers and State that we’re inflicted with these woes.
In fact, the family shouldn’t show offence that social workers keep a close guard on my sisters, for they’re there out of protection orders.
It’s just not pleasant that such a presence (whom work on behalf of the State) should make their harsh realities realized.
It’s been said and confronted to me directly that it’s because of me that the breakdown of the family is at fault and that the family dynamic appears broken.
During days of great despair and doubt, I used to believe this nonsense. Because members of my family rarely kept up contact (except my grandmothers) and I was very much in the dark, and the black sheep on close inspection, I followed these notions and did everything I could to please everybody, even when the nature being my actions weren’t very sincere and I ended up even more disappointed through understanding what all this one-sided treatment meant…
The truth is, I wanted love from them and needed closure when made feel the worse.
Thank goodness I have such amazing friends who were able to give me a fresh perspective looking on from the outside, because otherwise I would have lost the will to function and went insane.
Well, I’d like to think I’ve a head on my shoulders and not doing too bad for the minute, but there’s times where I can’t help coming to think that I’m deluded and mentally handicapped in the face of my family circle, and sadly realize they know little of my individuality and soul-searching for solace.
God, maybe I am crazy if I were to think I’m going to seek the answers I could sit well with and to imagine my hopeless attempts might reshape the dynamic of my family for the better. “No, Jay, you’d be crazy thinking that can happen. Don’t forget because you opened your mouth and squealed to the social workers that things are how they now stand.”
But no, that can’t be true because in fact how I spoke of the abuse followed up through a desperate outburst with my Mother, after she accusing me of deranged behaviour during childhood. She was right as far as the actions were concerned but to hold me accountable to these acts, to spitefully hurt me or emotionally attack me – because he felt I was the cause of her problems and having to put up with social workers –was the wrong way to about approaching me.
She failed to remember that I was a child acting out with confusion, acting out childishly what was done to me with a child’s sense of innocence.
Yes, I acted out sexually young with other boys and one girl, but I never understood what drove me to do it – I cant fathom my low feeling at that period but I was a lost kid. What I do is I didn’t act in any way with malice or to attempt hurting anybody.
However, what happened has happened and we were dealing with disgraced parents who wanted to remove the problem and free themselves for their own act of irresponsibility, by not seeing to support me in my struggle.
This is why I think Mum put me in a special school and had me see a psychologist because she believed I had these sick fantasies (after speaking of the abuse I think - as my word was never trusted until my sisters came into the picture), and it’s understandable in her ignorance that Mum didn’t question right away.
But as soon as I seek help, perhaps changing in the tone of direction mum wanted me to go about doing it, I’m a shame to the family and so the only way for Mum to comprehend was to accuse and hold me accountable for the disturbing acts I committed – that being me acting out sexually young, expressing my frustrations and inner pains through harm onto animals and simply being a troubled child!
Before I go any further in my reflections on life, I must bear you my soul with something I find very difficult to pen, because it’s about me and a dark period in childhood where I irrationally found ways to “deal” with the abuse and domestic violence committed at home.
But I must tell you these things because I believe all human emotions should be taken into account, and it’s still something that haunts me when I try to imagine how I could have survived the turmoil at all.
Firstly, let it be said, how I coped with my inner hurts was traumatic. At such a young age I could never comprehend what others felt like or how there is consequences to every action. In short, it was never explained to me what hurting others do to them, and so I didn’t have the emotional capacity to comprehend what I was doing from acting out of pure numbness and not seeing beyond my own cries.
What I mean is that as a child of three years old or more I didn’t know that I was doing harm when I dropped the puppy out the bedroom window and didn’t understand why it wouldn’t stand back up, or when I was playing with Tony’s mother’s terrier dog a game of imaginary Hide and Seek and put the pup into the oven, thinking it was a cupboard for more space, and how the oven was later turned on by a family member and the dog burned alive. I was in the living room at the time, distracted by watching cartoons and Tony came downstairs smelling the bad odour in the kitchen and soon discovered what had happened. I heard him shout as he opened the oven door for my Mother to come down quick and his shouting startled me so I ran in from the sitting room to see what was up.
In his shock, Tony took one look at me and knew what must have happened. I seen smoke come from what I thought was a lower cupboard and he just ran towards me in a fit of anger.
I asked why there was smoke and he hit me so hard that I fell back onto the ground.
To this day I remember how painful that smack hurt and how, really, Tony never seen me in the same light after what I ignorantly done to his mother’s pet.
Mum observed the scene and was just as distressed but defended me from having Tony continuing to hit me in that fit of rage. They were very young parents and didn’t know how to communicate at the level a child would understand, so it’s a pity they never sat me down and explained what I had done wrong, for death was still so alien to me then.
I even remember when Tony’s father died and we were gathered around at the graveside, as the coffin was lowered into the dirt. I would have been very young, I recollect, and I looked round seeing everybody in a fit of tears looking down at the deceased and I was thinking: “Why are they crying for?”
I could see only the wooden coffin; it never would have occurred to me that there was a body inside…
How silly that things so basic for your average person were such alien prospects for me as the ignorant child!
I think back to those earlier days of my short existence and realize that nobody really considered that I was a child they were dealing with. To them I was disturbed and acting out with irrational behaviour, so I was primarily the problem.
It would be a bit dramatic of me to suggest that they wanted to “remove the problem” as quickly as possible, but what I’m trying to point out is that the adults wanted to remove any sense of responsibility on their part.
And so you know how the situation followed, or I assume you do through understanding my perspective from past letters.
You also should know that I never coped in a healthy manner until the social workers became involved and gave me a sense of direction.
That’s all I really needed; some positive guidance and professional help, and I’d like to think I’ve learnt a ton load from those mistakes and know at the mental maturity I’m in now that I could never inflict my pains in the way I did and the suffering I inflicted (onto animals or human), and I’m trying to understand that lost kid that could do things so horrifically like that and the truth is I can’t fully; only that I was giving a desperate cry out for help but obviously going about it the wrong way and eventually giving the wrong signals when it was seen to.
You probably don’t notice because in my flow I’m writing sentences down straightforwardly, to try and make sense of something that was purely illogical, however my heart is caught in my throat and eyes watery from unstoppable tears…
It’s taking me ages to correlate something so unimaginable, something so sinister and out of character.
Basically, I don’t know that kid that did those awful things… I don’t believe young Jay was motivated in any way to cause harm or be malicious but in those mental breakdowns released the anger and sadness onto the animals as a symbol for crying out, wanting to escape the hellish circumstances and to be cared for.
As an adult, I can feel young Jay’s hurts and desperate cries as he tried in every effort to escape reality, even losing interest to go on living at one stage.
I remember many occasions contemplating committing suicide, such as trying to keep my head beneath the bath water, take an overdose of pills, and the time I had a butcher’s knife in hand and wanted to cut my arms and bleed out. All very dark intentions, of course, but I honestly could only see relief in endless sleep!
Thinking now, I could never go that route as an option to solve matters and keep peace of mind,, but a suicidal mind doesn’t see alternatives; only the one escape out of their inner misery…
But when people discuss depression and suicide the victims who succumb to these symptoms have my deepest sympathies, for I truly understand what it’s like to be so blinded in the dark, to loathe yourself to the extent that you’re no longer comfortable living in your own skin, and having the inability to communicate your hurts with an assertiveness that allows for the weight on your shoulders to shift.
And it maddens me when you’ve got connections who belittle you because you speak truthfully of your feelings and they see to it that you’re crying wolf or seeking for some desperate attention.
What is wrong with people, must they think so cynically?
Of course, they need your attention and love so as to help them recover – saying it’s out of seeking attention is projecting a barrier around your heart, where you basically tell yourself that you’ve no room for that in your life, and so the friend is left crumbling away in silence…
It’s certainly the case that modern Ireland stills lacks the full compassion to be open to discussion depression and suicide – and all because our society projects this closed-minded presence where it’s shocking, a pity but not relevant to them; not unless they suffer with it themselves.
But the sad truth is that most citizens are receiving medication from suffering with depression or some form of anxiety but keep this secret very hidden…
The truth as I see is that people altogether should be taking the stand and speaking about the commonness of depression and concerns with mental health, because I do think we’re still reserved and apprehensive when it comes to speaking about these facts of life!
I discuss these things with James often at great length and his advice is that I should prepare for the worse, as he’s got the feeling I will sink so low after the court case, become emotionally drained and probably will not want to be around other people.
I keep telling him not to worry and that any feelings of anguish that I’d experience are understandable under the circumstances.
And he’d say “Yeah, maybe, but Jay in those instances I know you’ll probably want to be more distant from me than you already are and it worries me because those are times when you’ll need people around you most. Don’t shut me out, please.”
When he said that I just looked into James’s eyes and could read the meaning; a look so serious that it compelled me into silence. There’s no point with me telling James what he wants to hear and later breaking promises.
So I just forced a slight nod and thanked him for being so supportive. “Of course I’ll support you, Jay… I’d do much more if you’d allow it. But I can see you’re not ready for that yet.”
“Ready for what?” I cynically asked.
“For more of my support and our time together,” he reassured. “But, James, can’t you see? This is what I want… I’m very happy with where we stand. I can’t bear having an intense relationship right now. Can’t you understand that?”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I’ve never said I was looking to have a serious relationship with you. Actually, coming from where you’re at in your life at the minute would suggest you can’t take on the troubles of others.
But you see, Jay, I’m not here to overload you with the things happening in my personal life, and I’ve never dwelled on my situation of life.
But I do want to be a support through the difficulties surrounding your past and healing because from my personal experience I know completely what it’s like to feel the world is on your shoulders and not knowing where to turn.
Yes, we have a sexual connection but really I want to be a friend. Why can’t you get your head around this fact and just accept my support without question?”
“Because there is repercussions for every action made. If I didn’t question or think twice about something involuntary (meaning on my part to just give in to your offers of guidance) then there’s bound to be even more complications for us at hand, such as either of us being lost in translation of another’s true intentions, lies and distrust in friendship and ultimately either of us getting hurt.
It means more to me that you receive the happiness you so deserve and that you’ll find someone who can value more of your big heart and strong spirit.
So, no, I cannot and will not hold my tongue and play it safe just to give you the time of day when my feelings of doubt show me otherwise. I know that sounds harsh but I always believed in our promise to be completely honest with each other, and so I will remain to be.”
Despite me confessing my truest feelings and without any intention of malice, it didn’t stop James from challenging me further.
That’s fine – I get that he has his point of view and that we’re as stubborn as each other, when it comes to staying true to one’s own feelings.
This time I had to sit back and just giggle; see it for what it is and accept that I can’t change James from his current standpoint and neither can I deny my own positioning of mind… Soon conversation changed form and we discussed morbidly the inevitable facts; how James suspects my experience of rape having no relevance towards Cindy’s court case (if it might jeopardize the jury and the judge deciding to close the process if I were to come forward and make a statement which otherwise couldn’t be proven when my case was “questionable”), doubts that He mightn’t get a large sentence or show up – how we should suspect the worse and bear in mind that people acting in favour of law are no friend to either party and the court room is a very intimidating and overwhelming experience for those who encounter it at hand…
I know James is probably right but I haven’t the strength nor frame of mind to look onwards at the pessimism that’s to come. I get that he wants to prepare me for the worse and make sure that I don’t break down on the stand, but all I CAN do is take each day at a time and hold myself firmly in place.
Of course I’m full of fear and full of detest, but I don’t see any point wasting my energy if it’s not put to good use.
It’s through writing cathartically that I’ve put these emotions in a place where they can be taken into account (even if only through my own heart and mind) and overall settled; put at bay.
I really don’t see good that I should vent these squabbles to James without reserve, especially if it happens that his visions is true – that my place in all this is totally irrelevant, of little significance, and of course that he should carry around my burdens…
And that sounds awfully selfish of me. I’m sure Cindy can one day understand my urgency to be just as heard and understood throughout this terrible time…
On the other hand, my focus is very much on keeping myself collected, speaking of only what I recall happened and not overly of the feelings involved. But the idea sounds impossible to imagine articulating.
I mean, how can it be expressed without anger or sadness?
What I heard Him do to Cindy is to incomprehensible for words; not only because she was a toddler but because she trusted him to mind her, and even as she cried out from pain He continued to shush her into silence and paralyzed me into shock as I secretly listened with fear that he might attach himself onto me and do what he did her. I can’t frustrate enough my guilt and self-loathing for having not taken action or done something to put an end to his molestations sooner, but I’m hoping it’s something that I can be of any help with the court case.
From the looks of things, I’m becoming more and more limited on how helpful I can be through brutal honesty or playing around the “right” words the legal team want to accept on their stage… I’ve received feedback from our legal representative and apparently its harmful to Cindy’s case that I should mention my reasoning for not turning over and stopping Him.
If I say “I didn’t turn over because He did it to me” then the whole case is put in jeopardy… No pressure at all there!
James was right. I really do have to prepare myself for the worse and stay courageous for Cindy’s sake.
I’m trying… It’s just horrible that now I must hold onto my every word and keep myself from crying out: “Hey, I’ve been hurt throughout this, too… Don’t put me through all this terror and then just brush me aside!”
Yours, Jay.