Comfortably Numb

Or, Protecting My Inner Child with Delicious Apathy

Photo by Laura Matthews on Unsplash

I haven’t forgiven. I haven’t forgotten.

I don’t really care anymore that forgiveness is supposed to be a gift to myself. I think I’m kind of past that.

I have come to know that in my little world, some things cannot be forgiven. Whether or not the offender has requested forgiveness (but especially if they have not, or if they refuse--!) is a moot point.

Child abuse of any form, yes, the “gift” of forgiveness is placed on the child. The burden of being the bigger person as an adult feels like an insult to my inner child. I’ve vowed to protect her. Those people hurt her, left her unprotected. They know what they did. They say let bygones be bygones. I will leave them all be, but I shall not give them the warmth of forgiveness nor the coldness of bitterness. I give them nothing at best.

I have discussed the harm done, talked to my inner child, reassured her, and kept her safe by making sure she is heard through my writing. But I keep her sheltered by no longer dwelling on past people, places, and things. I let her sleep, finally, safely. I let her take all the naps she was previously denied. I let her write poetry. I bought her art supplies that she never got to have. I let her paint and draw and read. I let her sing and dance, unafraid. I let her know that now, household chores are not a punishment, but a form of self-care. We want our space to be clean and tidy enough and safe.

She has enough space and enough food. She has a cute quiet boy that lives with her and even after twenty years, his words don’t cut and his touch is gentle. They share an old cat that screams at them and herds them off to bed. She is loved and she is safe. So, I don’t have the energy to spend on past unsafeness and unsafe people. Not anymore.

As my health slowly declines, I have to choose where my energy goes- that includes mental. My mental load has to be exclusive. A two person household is still very much one that needs to be managed, as well as my health, my finances, and my relationships. (All healthy ones.)

Say what you will, but my heart is too full giving little me the life she deserves. I don’t have room to hold forgiveness for those who neither want nor deserve it. And no, I do not believe that all people that don’t forgive are bitter. Besides, it’s just not in my makeup to hold grudges or bitterness towards anyone. To wish for bad upon them. There is no room for it. Hence there is nothing. I cannot give what I do not have.

I have accepted the terrible things that were done to me, that shaped some aspects of me. I will probably spend the rest of my days exfoliating emotional/mental dead skin. Seeing my trauma for what it is though-something dead that is blocking the nutrients from getting in. Yet it sometimes resurfaces and needs to be sloughed off from time to time. This makes it easier to manage. Each time I emerge softer.

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