October 22, 2014
Saw Curry Man near the library today. He gets to flit about campus unencumbered by the pain of being violated while I hide behind a column attempting to control a panic attack, asshole. The world is so screwed up— victims have only two choices, either pursue justice with a vengeance or let it go. Either I turn my life over to revenge, or I walk away in shambles? I feel so stuck. What the hell kind of choice is that?
Everyone seems to be tired of hearing my story. Swamp Thing says I deserved to be raped since I was dumb enough to get drunk. That kind of thinking needs to be challenged. However, I’m so down in a hole right now, I opted to just walk away.
At the library, I googled myself. I’m in the top ten which sucks. Good thing I’m not interested in a military career, I come across as unstable. The more likely impact is that my future spouse will never hook up with me because he’ll read about all of the shit I’ve been through and opt to never meet me. Great, Curry Man has fucked me four times now, and somehow I still keep thinking I'm a virgin.
Will I carry what Curry Man did to me forever, or can I find a way to let it go? Truth is, it keeps popping up in my psyche like a bad horror flick, eek eek eek. What does it take to banish something forever? I keep thinking about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa-- we all just want someone to listen to us tell our story.
I want him to listen to my story. Maybe that would help me let it go? Maybe Swamp Thing needs to listen to my story? Maybe I just need to have someone acknowledge that I am a victim which seems completely absurd to me on one level. What the hell is the point in being the victim? Maybe, maybe that’s my problem. While I’m busy seeking sainthood in the eddy of victimhood, the river of life is flowing around me.
Damn it all, somebody throw me a rope, I want back in the river.