When a non-friend confronted me with a question, “what did you do to deserve to be treated that way.” I was at first enraged. Angry. Mad. That was two years ago. This only gave them reason to think, “that’s why.” Despite my social outrage over how someone could blame the victim. I expressed anger, people shut down at anger, they won’t receive even wisdom.
Now i have a different persepctive, when i get that look from people in regards to my rape. My rape, the assault, wasn’t about me. It was about him.
I was just there. In the wrong place at the wrong time for me. At the right place at the right time for him.
It wasn’t about me at all. It wasn’t a personal afront or attack directly related to me. It was all about him, his rage, his anger, his self-hatred twisted and manipulated and directed at me.
But there was no personal relationship between me and my rapist. I was a potential cash cow, as he saw it, a dog that didn’t mind, wouldn’t behave by his rules. I wasn’t a person to him. Because he has no empathy. He treats people as he perceives himself, an object, an inhuman.
I’ve been heading this direction for a while now, and i understand all people think i am still filled with rage potentially.
Not so much the case. But that is the perril of placing words to be read by people, they come to anything they read, view, see, and even understand based off their limited perspective. Same for me when i write the words. Same for me when i read.
That needs to change. Detach and send out love somehow in someway, that is the goal. But communication is a funny thing, some people take things that are metaphorical literal, or literal metaphorical. But that is the satire of communiction. The foolly of the fool to assume that written word will be taken with tone or inflection.
That is the folly of the fool to assume everyone views the world in the same eyes, and especially by your own eyes.
I’m ready to be free of this folly, the time spent waisting my life on waisted energy on things that didn’t matter, on things that should have mattered, on people who didn’t matter, on thoughts that felt like they mattered at the time. I’m ready to be free of the prison this experience had on my mind.
The criminal and the victim live a strange justaposition, both affected and caged by their experience. I’m slowly walking and shedding these layers from this past. It’s the past, thank god it is past.
It sneaks in at times, like tonight while i applied for a residency out of state. The anger at that motherfucker for what he did to me. The self-confidence hits, my self-esteem issues, my feelings of defeat and failure, the memories of how life was so poised for success, and the ultimate falling into a dark pit, And then i felt this calm take over me.
It wasn’t about me, it never was, it wasn’t to all those people who said they loved me, in reality, it was only ever about them and what they wanted from me, not me, they never wanted me for me, just what they could get out of me.
And i guess i’ve come to terms with it, where as before there was so much pain and sadness of unreturned love. Did he ever show up and participate in my art stuff? No. He only showed up when i had “status.” And then I realized he just wanted power and status and the fame I received at the time. Not me. I used to think of him as deep, but his actions show so much. He will buy your affection if it serves him.
My friend, for example, she turned on me, angry at me as if the depression i felt had anything to do with her, like it was a way to hurt her. It wasn’t about her. It was about me feeling pain from where two very important things to me: family and career collided. It didn’t matter i almost lost my life, the financial problems i incurred. Nope, everyone is supposed to be cheerful and succesful and happy all the time, even if their world falls apart. And then we wonder why people “suddenly kill themselves.” Sorry person, you were not paying attention, obviously to your “friend.” People confuse intimacy with superficiality.
It’s just funny these moments of clarity over time. It’s just the way of life, of people, doesn’t make it right, but yet we still write and preach and lead people to transcend their egos, or their basic instincts, and we still fall into the comfort zone of self-serving behavior.
Writing that application, i know I don’t care if i fail, or don’t get it, because that isn’t the end result. It’s the fact i tried, it’s the fact it prepares me, it’s the fact i’m willing to take a chance on me for me, not out of desire for power, but out of desire for wisdom, for knowledge to do better. I am tired of holding myself down, and that is not hard to do, we all do, and i am freer than i ever imagined.
Just doing that helped me understand a real truth. The rape wasn’t about me, even if it affected me. It is something that happened to me, but it isn’t me. Paraphrasing some wisdom a friend told me from a while back. Thanks for that.