I have on occasion jokingly apologized for the things that are wrong with me because of my childhood. A joking "I'm sorry I'm so fucked up sometimes," normally with a smile. It's not a sincere "Terribly, terribly sorry for things I can't control," flat out apology as much as it is just an acknowledgement that it can be quite the load to handle. It can be hard to bear sometimes and I know that. I'm not genuinely sorry for it, I'm just making it known.

I am sorry that it has to affect so many others. Not sorry as in "It's my fault," but sorry in the sense of grief. That sucks that it's so widespread. I'm sorry because it's not just my problem, it's that of my friends as well now. And that sucks.

But I am so tired of hearing "Oh sweetie, you're not fucked up" or "baby, you aren't crazy."

Let me say this now:

I am. This isn't a big maudlin call for attention here, this is genuine sincerity; things on my end are fucked up from time to time. It happens. I'm tired of hearing people say there's nothing wrong with me. I'm sure they're trying to say "No it's cool, we love and you and can handle anything you throw our way," but what they're actually saying is "There's nothing wrong with you," and that, ladies and gentlemen is a god damned lie.

You cannot. Cannot. Cannot tell me that being raped for seven years can leave you completely unscathed. It fucks you up, thus, you are fucked up. Thus, it's okay to point out that you are fucked up. You're not busting your own balls, you're being honest.

And it feels good for me to be honest. I enjoy pulling that veil off, letting this glaze that things are cool fall off, and letting people see it for what it is. And this has lead to the realization that now, as opposed to before, I am okay with giving real specifics about what happened to me, and it makes me feel better in many ways.

In the same vein of lifting off that veil by saying I am indeed screwed up in ways because of this, I get something out of giving specifics.

I was talking to Becky and realized that "I was abused," has turned into this ubiquitous beast with no head. It's this headless monster that's just twisting and writhing, but putting a face to it by saying "Joe fucked me when I was seven," feels good to me.

It takes that veil off, it leaves the belly of the beast open. It's right there, there's no running around it and it feels good. It feels so much less burdensome to say that.

Saying I was raped isn't it. Saying "I was abused" isn't, "Joe fucked me when I was seven." It isn't "Joe forced me to suck his cock when I was nine and when I couldn't breathe I passed out." It isn't "When I woke up, I realized he had been beating me because I didn't swallow." But when I do say those things, and actually put it out there, I feel liberated.

And it felt good to say those things to Becky. It feels good to say those things to Stephen, to Andrew. I have friends who have many friends who have been abused, so it's no big thing to them anymore. They've been desensitized, and I understand that. Also, they're so used to be mentioning it in fleeting and joking conversation, that it's no big thing. That's fine with me.

And I'm not saying I want some pity parade thrown in my honor. That's the last thing I want. But being able to see silence on someone's face does something for me. I don't know what it is or why. It almost feels like validation. Like...It feels like I'm giving them a better sense of who I am. None of me is ever veiled to my friends, or even most strangers, I'm a very open person. I'm very open, I have very few secrets.

So I think that telling them specifics whether they want to hear them or not just makes me feel good because it's making that last part of me that not many know much about, available. It's pulling that lofty part down and making my friends supportive of all of me, rather than everything else.

Not that my friends aren't supportive of that side of me, they are. But it feels more complete when they know real pieces of it. The love all friends have for each other feels more whole to me when I say these things. The silence that I can see cross their eyes in this "My god..." look, that makes them look like their souls are sighing, makes me feel closer. I'm not so removed, and we have a more complete relationship for it.

From here, I'm thinking my journal is just going to get more graphic. This is just a heads up beforehand, that where I was not just pussyfooting around it before, there's going to be real detail from here in, instead of these vaguities I've been using.

Now that I'm referring to what happened in more specific terms, my soul doesn't feel quite so tired of the "getting over" process as it was. I feel good.

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