I just realized: This past week, I just don’t feel it anymore.
Actually, I have been feeling down in the dumps at times, but that’s because of a NEW situation: My husband suddenly having a blowup with different friends, and wondering if they were ever really his friends.
But those are other people, and I think he may have made it into more than it was, thanks to his own version of being traumatized by what Richard and Tracy did. I’m waiting to see how that turns out; in the meantime, my own friendships with these people have not been lost….
But as for Richard and Tracy, the depression is all gone, vanished. I first began to realize this Monday night, after my second visit to the local writer’s club: fresh faces, happy people, nice people, funny people, potential friendships with like-minded people.
I don’t think I grieve Richard anymore, that my mind and heart have finally processed that he’s not what I thought he was. I’m no longer troubled by the things Tracy said and did to me, as if it were just some mist of the past.
I also haven’t seen their little LG-P870 Android on this blog for nearly a month. There has been no sign of them anywhere since they saw this post on January 29.
Before and after they found my blog, I would see them once in a while, on the street, at Greek Fest, or at church. My husband would see them at the store. Sometimes I saw their pictures in the newspaper, online or print.
After they found my blog, I could swear I saw them around more often: Last August, for example, they came to my church, then afterwards I saw them pass our car as we waited to leave a fast-food restaurant driveway. Then another time that summer or fall, Tracy drove past me as I biked to an errand.
But since they saw this post, I haven’t seen them AT ALL. Not at church. Not at Greek Fest. Not even my husband has seen them at the store. I haven’t even seen them on the street! Heck, I haven’t even seen pictures of them in the newspaper.
I know they’re still in town because I see them in my stats once in a while, from this town. Did they get a new vehicle/license plate? Or could they be doing this deliberately so as not to scare me anymore?
Or could it be related to a post (now removed) which they read on January 30, in which I posted part of an e-mail conversation which proved that either Richard and/or Tracy had lied to me about our sticking point, and falsely accused me?
In any case, my heart now feels healed. I’ve read about this sort of thing happening when you’ve been talking and writing about your abusive experiences for a while.
Maybe now, forgiveness will come.
Though I still don’t ever want to see “them” again unless they’re ready to accept responsibility for the things they’ve done to everyone, and make amends. Forgiveness and healing, does not mean being stupid.
Some people take down their abuse blogs after healing, but some keep their blogs up, so that others can read them and be helped along in their own healing journeys.
I’m keeping mine up. Of course, this blog is kind of a hodgepodge, not just an abuse blog, but I’m keeping it all up, not just the posts on other subjects 🙂 From the amount of traffic I get to those posts, I see the desperate need for these abuse blogs.
As Christina Enevoldsen writes,
For the most part, when I talk about my abuse now, it’s for someone else’s benefit. However, when a new memory surfaces or I delve into a deeper layer, I share it with my friends and I give myself all the time I need to process it.
As she also writes,
This past year, I’ve stood up for myself in big and small ways. One of the most significant ways I’ve objected to abuse is when I confronted my dad for sexually abusing me.
I knew there wasn’t much chance of any change of heart or action on his part, but just speaking up was liberating. I’ve never felt so empowered in my life.
I didn’t feel any smaller when he refused to apologize or admit his crime. It wasn’t about his response or lack of response. Standing up for myself was an expression of what I already knew about myself—I matter. I knew that no matter what he did or said, it didn’t define me or inform me of my value.
That’s the truth I know today that I didn’t know when I was a child. The way I’m treated doesn’t actually define me. I’m valuable whether or not others recognize that.
Knowing that truth empowers me. Now, I’m free to act independently of other people’s actions. I can afford to acknowledge the impact others have on me since I’m the one with the biggest impact in my own life.