Dear Hearts,
Power. Ambition. It took Caesar and Brutus. It’s has taken down world leaders, CEOs, the rich, the poor…
Rape. That’s what we talked about in the Burning Bed class today. Rape.
Rape has naught to do with sex. Rape is Power.
Verbal abuse is Power. Domestic violence is Power. The rioting in Charlotte is about Power.
The cure? The answer? Morality.
I watched a very graphic and realistic (except for the bad porno-style acting in the beginning) documentary? about rape, focusing on the rape kit part. That’s worse than the rape, I think. Hours of combing, literally, through every intimate part of your body looking for evidence to prove that someone else raped you. The accused doesn’t go through that.
Thank you God, I’ve never been sexually assaulted.
The teacher said that verbal abuse is on par if not worse that sexual and physical abuse. Verbal and emotional abuse changes who you are. I am trying so hard to not let the demons run my inner narrative: “Stupid fucking bitch. Fucking loser. Asshole.” Dr. Swede said I was made in the likeness and image of God.
(Is God that fucked up that he’s like me? Shit! We be in trouble!)
(God has to have a sense of humor. He must. Look at the platypus.)
Why—why—why do men (fuck politically correct sexism) do rape and abuse women? What is it inside certain men that makes rape and abuse okay. It’s not TV, video games, music, movies, or porn. If that were the case my dad would be a bad, bad man. I would be an abuser—when Janice caps Richie in the chest…I rewound that scene like four times. Yes, on VHS.
The infamous Sopranos scene.
She deserved to get popped in the face. It’s domestic abuse and nobody deserves it—yada, yada. But, Janice—she deserved it. But, she takes back the Power. Boom, you’re dead.
I’m not saying that is the way to deal with relationship issues (although I do have a dirt basement good for burying things), but I watched and re-watched that scene. I have yet to shoot anybody. And, in college, I did a 35 page paper on how media violence does not cause real-world violence. But neither Richie nor Janice has Morality.
You can’t love your wife and cheat on her (or she cheats—whatever). You just can’t. You cannot take wedding vows and then stick your dick in another woman and say you still love your wife.
Rapists are not good people. Domestic abusers are not good people. Verbal abusers are not good people.
But, they have Power. And, yeah they were abused and/or traumatized as kids, but that’s not an excuse. I was bullied violently in school, but I never shot up the school. These rapists and abusers must have ambition because they are smart when they are abusing. They pick the right people and make you think they are good people. Burning Bed calls it grooming. If T. could get away with joking with me by calling me a “lazy bitch,” (because he was so comfortable with me—eye roll) then the next step is calling me a “fucking bitch cunt” for real.
T. claimed to be a good Catholic. Oh, I go to mass every Sunday and prayer only for other people. Bull-fucking-shit. But, I bought it. Thoughts about T. come to me in flash-revelations.
We saw American Sniper together, under some duress because the theatre was crowded and whenever T. went to the movies people talked. I could count on one hand how many time that’s happened to me. And, I’ve been to a lot of fucking movies. He fell asleep during the movie. He told me he focused better with his eyes closed. I watched the incredible film—but kept looking at him to make sure he was “okay” and “happy.” Fuck. I did that my whole fucking marriage with Asshole. T. wasn’t focusing better and he wasn’t asleep. He was passed out drunk.
(By the by—American Sniper being snubbed at the Oscars—I’m done with the
Oscars and I love Hollywood and have watched the Oscars for years. But, Annette Benning in American Beauty, Russel Crowe in Beautiful Mind, Zero Dark Thirty, Leo in Wolf of Wallstreet—all snubbed. American Sniper was the last straw. Fuck you Academy.)
I digress. And I swear a lot! It’s only because I’m comfortable with you.
T. was drunk our entire relationship. He had the Power and he took the Power. Yes, I gave it to him after I OD’ed, but then he took it. And I allowed him to take it. But, he was my knight in shining armor, my savior, the guy who stayed..after he was a catalyst for my OD…T. was this great man.
Well, he wasn’t. Sex with him was good. Very good. I didn’t know sex could be like that. I have to answer for that lack of Morality too. Seriously. But for him “making love,” (we never “fucked”) was sacred and all about me having as many orgasms as possible. Because the more I had the better he felt. “Don’t lie to me,” he said again and again. Don’t lie. Don’t lie. Don’t lie. Don’t lie. If you need to tell someone that—there’s a problem on one side or the other. Did I fake it and lie to him? Yup. I had to or we’d still be fucking.
He bragged a lot that he “got me off” in my sleep. He made me come—but I never woke up. Which pissed him off and I hear about it in the morning.
I used to actually say to him, “why didn’t you just fuck me?”
“Oh, that would be taking advantage of you.”
“You can’t rape the willing,” I quipped.
I actually thought that what he was doing was okay.
All the Post-Concussion Syndrome and Diabetic Episodes in which he was verbally abusive—he was always sorry. He loved me when no one else would—so I thought. He got me the way no one else did—so I thought. I did not OD again because he was in my life. Was the ECT fucking with my head? Yes. Were years of PTSD and trauma from a scary marriage fucking with my head? Yes.
Bragging about that (I don’t think he ever did such things—I’m not that heavy of a sleeper) is disturbing and doing that is disturbing. It’s a form of rape. There, I said it. It was a form of rape. He also said I was violent at night and in night terrors kicked and punched him. I didn’t. If I did, he would have deserved it. But, he made me feel guilty.
“I’m sorry, T.”
Where was his Morality? I gave him—but he also took the Power.
My mother’s brother was a drop down drunk who killed himself with alcohol in his mid-40s. But, he was never abusive or mean. My Great Aunt was an alcoholic—but she never abused her husband. T. chose to be abusive. He chose it.
I can be mean—but I don’t do it provoked or unprovoked very often. (Sorry little old lady for giving you the finger and saying “fuck you” when you cut me off yesterday).
“Deliberate cruelty is unforgivable,” Blanche in A Streetcar Named Desire.
These people who abuse others through rape, mean words, fists, money, God, and a dozen other things—they have to lack a Morality.
The Burning Bed teacher said to not ask why, because we don’t really want to truly understand a rapist’s reasons. But, I do. How can you sexually abuse a child? How can you just choose to mean? How can you choose to set a building on fire? How can you choose to shoot out of a moving car?
I want to be a Medical Advocate for Burning Bed, because helping those women (call me sexist) who are abused—that is the work of Christ. (A Medical Advocate goes to the hospital to support the victim when she comes in from a sexual or non-sexual assault).
I have to have a reason why people abuse—a lack of Morality and sometimes evilness.
We don’t need Satan. Man just Satan’s work just fine on his own.
So T., you wanted to text me today and have a little chit-chat. Go at it. Call me. See how that works out for you, because if you do I am going to speak the truth. You may not hear, but I’ll say. I will make sure I take every bit of power back from you motherfucker.
Not every one who loses Power has a choice--I was complicit in my loss of Power. But we all have a choice to take the Power back.
Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless
In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel.
PS: My prayer, please God, Mother Mary, Christ, all my Saints, and Guardian Angel—please help me to be less afraid and abide in you and the uncertainty that is my future. Please. Also, please let me not shake all day tomorrow, like I did today.
PPS: I not a moral bastion, but I try to be not bad. I repent. I have lacked Morality in my past and maybe do now. But, I don’t think I am lacking Morality right now. T. you may not be a bad person, but you aren’t moral.
PPPS: When Morality become a bad word?
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