eyes, memory, grief
A few days ago I wanted to trigger a flashback. I was feeling so bad...I almost wanted to remind myself of how bad the abuse was..I needed validation. Its been about 6 yrs and sometimes, when things in my life are going relatively well, I feel like the memories get a little hazy. You'd think I would welcome something like that but it just makes everything more confusing. After the abuse came years of pain, addiction, dropping out of school, ed, agoraphobia, etc. etc. I messed up everything, and eventually landed on a completely different albeit okay path..but there are days when I can't remember everything, and then I drive myself crazy with the questions "Was it worth it" "Did what I went through really warrant giving up my life and dreams?" Sometimes I miss the path I was on, the girl I was becoming back then, sometimes I miss it so much it, it feels like an unbearable pain. I had so much hope then, I had a vision of a fantastic future. I lost that the first night I spent with him. I have yet to get it back, I don't know if its even possible.
So I thought about him. I have spent so much time trying not to think about him..but a few days ago I just wanted to remember. It didn't take long. I thought about his eyes. I thought about the way they looked at me, the anger in them, the way they changed when he looked at me. The way they said, "I am going to hurt you" even while he was assuring me that everything was okay. I knew the hurt was always coming. His eyes betrayed him.
I was thinking about it, and a specific memory came back. We were in drawing class together. Drawing class was somewhere he would humiliate me, make me do sexual things in front of all of my classmates. Even in front of my professor sometimes, who did not do anything but scold us for being inappropriate or make us sit on opposite ends of the room. She thought we were equally guilty. I felt guilty, ashamed. I couldn't explain to her that this wasn;t just PDA..this was a punishment for me...this was his assertion of control. In this particular class, we were supposed to pair off and draw a portrait of our partner. Automatically, I was his partner of course. We sat facing eachother and I had to study his face intently, that horrible face that I knew I would be staring at later, as he accused me of impossible things, as he r*ped me to prove again who I really belonged to. I drew him with his eyes closed. I didn't want to replicate those awful little portals of terror.
The memory I conjured up was very intense but it didn't make me feel any better. I feel so weak sometimes...my giving up was so quick, so total, so final.If I was a stronger person, could I have stayed on my original path? Where would I be now? Would I be the person I had always hoped to be?
I'm so sad today. Six years later, I continue to mourn those old hopes with not the slightest bit of closure or resolution. I don't know how I will ever feel okay.