WHY IS IT THAT MORE COMPASSION
IS GIVEN TO ABUSE PERPETRATORS,
including sex abusers, physical abusers,
than to the their victims?
CAN YOU TELL ME WHY?
I mean, can you tell me why with a legitimate answer?
Often times, the move to get the perpetrator help with counseling or rehabilitation is much, much greater of concern over helping the victims of the abusers withcounseling and compassion. In fact, there is much more criticism for victims. The blame often times is put on them as well. But tell me, in the case of child molestation, what could a 5 year old, 7 year old, etc. do to entice someone sexually?
As a victim of abuse, even taking bout it as a mature adult now, the response I've gotten over the years concerns me. There has been plenty of people in my life that have encouraged me and stood with me, about my situation, but the response for those who committed these acts is what really concerns me! There have been family members, family friends etc, who have expressed "pity" for them. It's one thing to be concerned and caring, and maybe pity is OK too,but don't use the pity to excuse them! That 's the part that gets me!!
"Oh! But you don't don't know what kind of life they had.
What? What about the life or lives of the victims they heaped the mess of their lives on? What about us too!
Did we deserve that?
Did we deserve to be brutalized and suffer, some victims even dying from the injuries caused by their abusers...DID THEY DESERVE THEIR FATE?
Do others deserve to tragically suffer because another person is hurting?
I've heard people say, I've been told on several occasions throughout the course of my life when it came to the subject of my abuse that, I should just "forget it and let them off the hook, fortheir sake!" For their sake! Are you kidding me!
Why do I have to do that for their sake? How could anybody say that to me?
Those people saying that weren't there when I had to fight my own brothers off of me at night or when my mother was not there or paying attention!
They were not there when I woke up in my mothers bed, where I thought I would be safe, only to find my mother up and my brother Dede, laying in the bed behind me, holding me around my waist scooping me with his pants down, with his penis in my butt crevice ( I was about 7).
What about when I was in first grade and my brother (Donnie) came into my room, woke me up room, stood over me, took his pants down and climbed on top of me and made me open my mouth and stuck his penis in it, almost gagging me. I went to school stunned, with my stomach hurting, and just dis-shoveled from all the way down to my spirit, down to my very soul and all the way back up again, into my physical self. I was a kid and I was his sister.
The taste of his penis stayed in my mouth for many months. No matter how many times I brushed my teeth or what I ate or drank. It haunted my dreams alot longer. I shook and hid every time I saw him walking through the house or anywhere!
Even as I got older, he made me nauseous just looking at him or hearing his voice.
I couldn't figure out why GOD just didn't kill him dead or any of them for that matter!
They threatened to kill me dead if I told! God was bigger than them, I thought!
I was a kid, but I fought to stay wake at night, would cry to have to go to bed. In first grade, second grade etc. I was falling asleep in class, at the lunch table. I was peeing on myself from the trauma. I peed in the bed until I was about 14 years old! TRAUMA I TELL YOU ! TRAUMA!
"Drop it some family members said", of my abuse. Have pity on people like my brother Donnie? Used to be I'd rather walk off a cliff and die first!
I'm 42 now and that thing has haunted me up until a few months back. It didn't stay in my mind all of these years, but from time to time, it would come up in my dreams and I'd wake up in sweat and tears, I would be so traumatized some times that even once I awoke, often fear would terrorize me! I couldn't get the light on or pray to Jesus fast enough! Sometimes my nightmares would scare my son so much, that he would run into my room, standing over me shaking me, calling my name trying wake me because he said I scared him by screaming, or groaning or ghostly or crying out in my sleep.
See people, the affects of abuse can last and last.
Get that stuff out of you!
I'm not supposed to hate or take revenge (which I have not nor plan to, on either issue)
But don't ask me to take pity on them. I'll pray for them, give them food if they're hungry or drink when they are thirsty, but don't ask me to ...have pity on them beyond that, my abusers be they my own mother or brothers. You could ask me alot of things and I'd do it, but don't ask me that!
That's the way I used to be! That's the way, I was for a lot of years!
Unforgiving and wanted them to suffer!
I wanted justice to and beyond the fullest extent.
But, somewhere in my life, God changed me! Oh! He didn't change me into weakness. No! on the contrary.! God made me stronger. Stronger, even more so than my perpetrators.
See, I can face my hurtful past and tell it to the world, but they have not.
None of them have confessed nor told the truth to the family. None of them have come to me to apologize for every act of crime they committed against me! I am no longer a victim, but a victor. They, my perpetrators are the victims of their own sin and pain!
They still hurt and suffer with their sicknesses and addictions, wrestling with their demons, while I am yet free. Like I said, God made me stronger even than even them!
He reshaped me and put such strength in me that I have and can forgive, (meaning I can release them of their offenses. That does not mean that I cannot talk about it and teach, inform and encourage others because of it. I can still and will do those things because those things are what are to come of it! Making good out of bad!. Encouraging other s to survive and stay strong! I believe that is a major intention of Gods plan for my survival!
People, I don't know what to say about our society!
And I usually have much to say, you know this much about me
(if you have thoroughly read my blog).
Although I write alot of words, useful words, believing my writing to be a gift,
still I am often remarkably silent when I think on the world's pain.
Though I get angry, want to scream, want to exact justice,
want to...hug and up lift, love on the broken...
Frustrated that I can't do this like my heart wants.
Frustrated that my arms ar not big or wide enough!
Frustrated cause I can't see the contribution I'm making!
So, I give over to the Lord God almighty and
put my thoughts and heart in his hands.
So, I write! I write truth. I write to empower.
It doesn't always seem like much to me, but I
take comfort in it, hoping somewhere, some of you will to, take comfort in
some words I write!
I write, though not often of my own strength.
Bye, Meetta
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