Justice? I hate the word...
After finally plucking up the courage to tell my husband about my past trauma, he suggested I seek counseling. Which was fine. I was ready to take that step. After giving up pot for 3yrs, my whole childhood came crashing down on me. I fell in and out of serious depression, self-harm episodes (even though this had happened when I was a child) even thoughts of revenge. The thoughts of revenge have been resurfacing lately. I have dreamed so often of violence against my perpetrators. At the time, I was let down seriously by the School where it happened, that I had no illusions about justice. But there has always been a little voice inside telling me there is still hope.
I have been let down, once again...I was looking up rights of victims in Australia. Due to the fact this happened to me when I was 11/12yrs old, and my perpetrators were under 16, no justice can befall them. Where the (excuse my french) FUCK does that leave me?? Where does it leave anyone? In the end, I feel like there is absolutely NOTHING I can do to better myself. I think of the few people who do get justice - that must be something to behold - then I think of myself, lost in the mists, lost in a maze, never finding my way out, or any kind of retribution so I can at least try to move on. I never understand people who "settle out of court". Justice, to me, isn't about money! NO! It's about recognition. It's about having a "GUILTY" verdict next to their names!
But I will go on dreaming...I will go on taking "their" pills. I feel as if they want me to shut up. I say the same things over and over again. I cry over and over again. I can't unshackle myself from this existence. I wish I were a ghost sometimes, because nothing I do or say makes a dent.