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amul[Big Scary Thing] is today. Unsurprisingly, I am frightfully scared, in the same way wizards all shudder when they think of He Who Must Not Be Named, although none of them are really sure why he shouldn't be named. Maybe if I just called it by it's own, true name, I would have less to fear.
To me, though, it's true name IS [Big Scary Thing]. You can call it a fund raiser all you want, that does not capture the essence of the thing to me. It does not express the truly horrifying (to me) quantity of people attending who have been key figures in my nightmares and dreams for more than half my life. There will be men there who were once the boys who would stare at me with uncomprehending fear as I quietly raged against what their Daddys did to Mine.
Does it matter to me that none of them will mention it? That most of them have probably forgotten the angry boy who fled to the hills of Pennsylvania to avoid them? That makes it so much worse.
My father has forgiven them. He wishes me to forgive them, too, although we've never once in fifteen years talked about how much I hate them all for what they did to him. I want to be a part of this, and that requires getting over this sense of disgrace, the kind of indignation only a fourteen year old, naive and headstrong, could muster, and the decade and a half in which I have allowed this anger to rot and fester in the depths of me.
I hate them all still, the way I hated them so many years ago. It will be like my first visit to the temple grounds, I suspect there will be many that only know I left, not why and holding themselves blameless for all their crimes, they will be unashamed to stand before me. After all, Dad forgave them. Why would they need to ask for my forgiveness? Why would they even need to admit they wronged me as much as him?
THEY STOLE MY TRUST IN THE WORLD.
They will walk up to me and call out my name and hug me and try to kiss me on the cheek and I will feel pure revulsion in my stomach. They'll talk about what a fine young man I've grown into, and try to arrange marriages for me with their nieces. I've already done this once, and the only thing that kept me sane through it was knowing Ziggy was waiting for me to call her. Knowing that she would be willing to set aside everything and listen to me cry out against them.
Now, there's no such comfort waiting for me. I specifically avoided giving myself one. I could have called somebody and said, "reserve Sunday night for me. I'll need to talk to someone." But I didn't because I should face this alone. I should face everything alone and stand up and be strong, for these are relatively minor betrayals in the grand scheme of things. Nothing I have ever suffered could compare to that which I have comforted any of my beloveds for.
Today I go to face the demons which have haunted me for half my life. Demons I.....
I am SO SCARED. I do not want to do this. I do not want to face them. But there is a future beyond this moment that I want with all my heart.
This is harder even than breaking up with Christine, which I did not suspect. At least Christine was, on some level, aware of the dynamic between us. These men and women will not even know they've been torturing me.
To me, though, it's true name IS [Big Scary Thing]. You can call it a fund raiser all you want, that does not capture the essence of the thing to me. It does not express the truly horrifying (to me) quantity of people attending who have been key figures in my nightmares and dreams for more than half my life. There will be men there who were once the boys who would stare at me with uncomprehending fear as I quietly raged against what their Daddys did to Mine.
Does it matter to me that none of them will mention it? That most of them have probably forgotten the angry boy who fled to the hills of Pennsylvania to avoid them? That makes it so much worse.
My father has forgiven them. He wishes me to forgive them, too, although we've never once in fifteen years talked about how much I hate them all for what they did to him. I want to be a part of this, and that requires getting over this sense of disgrace, the kind of indignation only a fourteen year old, naive and headstrong, could muster, and the decade and a half in which I have allowed this anger to rot and fester in the depths of me.
I hate them all still, the way I hated them so many years ago. It will be like my first visit to the temple grounds, I suspect there will be many that only know I left, not why and holding themselves blameless for all their crimes, they will be unashamed to stand before me. After all, Dad forgave them. Why would they need to ask for my forgiveness? Why would they even need to admit they wronged me as much as him?
THEY STOLE MY TRUST IN THE WORLD.
They will walk up to me and call out my name and hug me and try to kiss me on the cheek and I will feel pure revulsion in my stomach. They'll talk about what a fine young man I've grown into, and try to arrange marriages for me with their nieces. I've already done this once, and the only thing that kept me sane through it was knowing Ziggy was waiting for me to call her. Knowing that she would be willing to set aside everything and listen to me cry out against them.
Now, there's no such comfort waiting for me. I specifically avoided giving myself one. I could have called somebody and said, "reserve Sunday night for me. I'll need to talk to someone." But I didn't because I should face this alone. I should face everything alone and stand up and be strong, for these are relatively minor betrayals in the grand scheme of things. Nothing I have ever suffered could compare to that which I have comforted any of my beloveds for.
Today I go to face the demons which have haunted me for half my life. Demons I.....
I am SO SCARED. I do not want to do this. I do not want to face them. But there is a future beyond this moment that I want with all my heart.
This is harder even than breaking up with Christine, which I did not suspect. At least Christine was, on some level, aware of the dynamic between us. These men and women will not even know they've been torturing me.
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no subject
Date: 23 May 2005 00:46 (UTC)no subject
Date: 23 May 2005 04:36 (UTC)I think the most horrific thing was how freely the praise of my father flowed, now that it's fifteen years too late to save my relationship with him.
He was really happy I was there, but didn't look me in the eye once. I don't know what to think about that.
no subject
Date: 23 May 2005 01:59 (UTC)no subject
Date: 23 May 2005 04:37 (UTC)no subject
Date: 23 May 2005 18:19 (UTC)no subject
Date: 23 May 2005 19:19 (UTC)no subject
Date: 23 May 2005 03:14 (UTC)Sital
no subject
Date: 23 May 2005 04:45 (UTC)