Some of the most challenging times in our lives come from the nightmarish predicament of deciding when to move on from broken relationships. Friends, lovers, and especially family members. Understanding the line between tolerable disagreement and inexcusable pugilism is a difficult territory to negotiate for some of us.
There have been times in my life where I’ve executed a zero tolerance policy. The very sign of anyone with an anger problem, substance abuse problem, whatever, would be enough for me to head for the next town. This thought pattern was guided primarily by the belief in the adage, “You are who your friends are.” The last thing I wanted to be was a problem person, and while I’ve lightened up a little bit, I think I still remain closer to low tolerance.
I have good reason for this, several actually. Survivors of abuse are a special breed, and people who necessarily must understand that boundaries are required in relationships. Backgrounds riddled in pain and tumult often lead to two kinds of adulthood: 1) Executing the same forms of abuse on friends and lovers 2) Turning completely away from these patterns in the hope of starting a new legacy. While most everyone would read those choices and say, “Well of course! Everyone would naturally want to go for #2!” that is completely false. People really do choose #1, even if they don’t know that they have.
Familial abuse takes many forms, but a common trait that persists in my study of it is the resistance of the family unit to believe it exists. Within my immediate family unit there is extreme abuse, but the peacemakers within the crew consistently press for ignorance (or maybe what they think is forgiveness, which it’s not) “That’s just how he is,” or “He’ll calm down.” This behavior has lead to tip-toeing around the fragile perpetrators, in a feeble attempt to avoid poking the proverbial bear and self-causing a new assault.
And therein lies the problem. IT IS NOT OUR FAULT THEY ARE ASSHOLES. The peacemakers didn’t do a fucking thing by having an opinion or living their lives. The powers of manipulation held by the abusers is somewhat given to them by the peacemakers in the tip-toeing, but it is absolutely the abusers fault for behaving that way. We ALL went through the horseshit that happened, and some of us decided to choose option #2: peace.
As I grown older, I’ve met more dysfunctional families. I say dysfunctional because there are no normal families, just different families with their different ways of dealing with problems and life in general. However I have gathered in analysis that these families don’t seem to endure the extreme name calling, psychological mind games and straight up abuse that this writer may be all too familiar with.
This particular writing is sparked by the latest episode, and deep consideration for what to do now. How many times do you tolerate abuse? When do you finally say ENOUGH?
Love, as I understand it, does not consist of hatred. When a member quickly finds hatred sparked by any small mention of something they dislike, it becomes clear that the tip-toeing will never meet its end.
I want to believe that people can change. I want to believe that things will get better and there will come a day when I can speak candidly and not be called a cunt or a bitch or told I should fucking die. Mind you these assaults stem from situations as mild as football games to as serious as my leaving people the family grew attached to.
Forgiveness is paramount in healing, however wisdom is required in self-preservation. But more importantly I believe in stepping out and calling it what it is. The peacemakers try to shut me up, the abusers try to shut me up, but I’ve had enough. I have completely had it and will no longer tolerate the manipulation and horseshit you people think is OK to live with. Some of these people need HELP, and we are allowing them to sit in their abusive sickness by excusing it, or trying to find a way around it with tip-toeing.
Sin and evil have strength in darkness. I will not sit in the darkness and allow the evil to have any part of my life. That’s why I moved far-a-fucking way and am never coming back. Exposing the truth and shedding light on the problem is the only way it can heal, if that is even possible. I understand the pessimism in the latter part of the previous sentence, but I’ve finally fucking realized some people don’t change.
There will be people in your life who want to tear you down. They want to see you fail if you don’t prescribe to their beliefs or ways of behaving. Or you don’t have to do a fucking thing at all and lo and behold, they will be there to cut your Achilles and hope you bleed to death.
Fuck. You. I’m done. And to the cowards who have stood idly by, shame on you. I have needed help and you fucking sat there. The act of doing nothing when something terrible is going down is also a fucking horrible thing to do, in your not doing.
Sorry for the rage. The anger. I just literally don’t have anyone I can talk to and I have to say something. If these words meet deaf ears so be it. But they have to be said and in that, I can find strength to finally move on. And by the way, I chose #2, and dammit, I WILL be successful, I WILL be happy, and there is nothing anyone can do stop me.