The Unforgiveness

I am really struggling lately with unforgiveness. Specifically regarding the sexual abuse at the hands of my brother. I try but fail to explain that it was more than molestation. It was predatory. His actions were done with malicious forethought. He intentionally humiliated me. Repeatedly. He was, and I think still is, a predator. He was, and I think still is, a pedophile. My first inclination is that I should be PUTTING HIM IN JAIL!

I guess the reason that it seems to 'suddenly' be a problem is because I am finding myself able to identify some of the lingering effects of that early victimization in my daily life. I see how it sometimes dictates my moods and the direction of my overactive mind, regardless of the amount of effort I put into the facade of "being in a good mood" or ignoring obsessive compulsive thoughts. I see how it drives me from contentment to depression and back, seemingly at will.

My faith declares that in order to be forgiven, I must forgive those who have wronged me. Some may say my faith is weak, but I have to be honest, I just do not see how I will ever be able to offer forgiveness to my mother's son, Ray. He is a pig; a swine; the filthiest of all animals.

Brainfart! I just had a memory of an incident where he enticed me into the bedroom with an offer of money. He told me there was six dollars in this little Conestoga-shaped penny bank that he kept quarters in. I had always wanted that little bank even though it said Pioneer Bank on the side. It was just the coolest thing. I bargained with him until he agreed to give me the bank as well as the six dollars.
It doesn't bother me now that I bargained with him for the bank. I knew IT was going to happen anyway, regardless of what happened in the mean time. What bothers me now is that I was such a gullible little idiot back then that I believed him.
After his normal pressuring techniques, he tired of my rejection and forced me to go down on him. When he was done he laughed and threw the bank at me for spitting on him. I ran out, and when I came back later the bank was there, but empty. So, not only am I a whore, I am a reluctant, ripped-off whore. I swore I would never fall for the money trick again. I was 9 years old.

Tell ya' what. I'm between a rock and a hard place, and I want your help. I have a dilemma that I will explain, and I'd like for you, whoever you are, to leave me a comment and tell me what you think. Anonymous if you like. Please, it means allot to me. OK?

Situation:
1) I have discovered that in the state of Louisiana (where I lived as a kid) the statute of limitations for Sexual Assault of a Minor, after the minor turns eighteen, is one year from the date of discovery, regardless of age at the time of discovery.
2) I have a nephew who was victimized by the same person. I have yet to talk to him, but I believe that he will back me up.
3) I am afraid that they would not allow the law in my case based on the "discovery" part.
4) I do have a Plan B. - Go to Michigan myself and spy his ass out. I can be discreet, and I can take telephoto photographs.

what do you think?


-b

The Storm - Katrina

A word about Katrina.

My heart goes out to all those who have been displaced. The tragedy is immense. I am mortified by the lackadaisical response. On the other hand, I am equally mortified by the sub-human lawlessness that reared it's ugly head to take advantage of the situation. Another case for Total Depravity.

For the record, I am completely against forcibly removing people from their home. If the home is safe to live in I don't see why the people would have to leave. If the city condemns the property the owner has the right to bring the home into compliance. I should stop this now, it's never good when I talk politics.

If you've read my other blog, you know that I have been looking for my father in New Orleans. He hasn't shown up on any of the survivor lists that I have found. In case you haven't read the other blog, I have never met my father, and only know for sure that he lived there in 1963. So, he could be living somewhere else or already deceased for all I know.

-b

The Song - Jaded - by Black Heart

I am finding it very difficult to express myself again. I sit down to write and nothing comes. I decide to look for provocative (non-erotic) images that may illicit some emotional somersault that will birth self-expression, but find none. I contemplate particular abusive situations that have historically been very effective generators, yet they produce nothing. Am I complaining? No Way !!!

In an odd way, life is better now than it ever has been. I will not pretend to be "over" my childhood, but I can honestly say that I am recovering and recognizing growth. I want to savor this moment of accomplishment, knowing it will be a relished memory and a principle learned in the days to come.

I have been spending allot of time at the studio, both recording myself and mixing others. I love being there. There is a certain vibe in that room that I have never felt anywhere else. I have a couple of new songs that I am working on, but the one I feel led to share tonight is a reflection of my realization that many, many people have felt the devastating effects of child abuse. It's called Jaded.

Jaded
When I lay me down to sleep
I pray my dreams don’t make me weep
For innocence I could not keep
I’m jaded

There comes a time in every life
To reconcile the pain inside
I never knew the reason why
Now I know

I’m jaded
I’ve been degraded
Humiliated
A life masqueraded
Assimilated
Alienated
So jaded

Passing people on the street
The smiling face they flash at me
Can’t hide the stain of history
They’re jaded

In every face I see a trace
Of hidden tears of trust betrayed
I slowly turn and walk away
‘Cause I know

They’re jaded
They’ve been degraded
Humiliated
A life masqueraded
Assimilated
Alienated
So jaded

Hiding in your darkened door
Won’t make the pain stop anymore
Like the thousand times before
You’re jaded

Four out of five silently cry
A multitude who live the lie
Can’t deny the pain inside
We all know

We’re jaded
We’ve been degraded
Humiliated
Our lives masqueraded
Assimilated
Alienated
Intimidated
Invalidated
Obliterated
Jaded
©2005 Fishspit Music

-b