Originally posted by Rowen:
The problem is...I am talking about my brother and my mother, my father being dead for years now.
I really really thougt I had made my peace with "it" and with them. And they try in their way, in fact being victims as well.

The problem is...that I can't use my anger to those who in fact deserve, I can't hurt my family, I can't hurt those bullies from school who no doubt have forgotten all about it.
Indeed I am still scared to lash out..because the unlucky reciever will have many bills settled. Been told I can literally cut someone to pieces in anger, even if it is only verbal.
The problem is..that at times I feel guilty for not using that power.

The problem is...that at one hand I am so glad about what's happening, me finally stopping the fight in myself, accepting who I am, what I need, what I have to offer. But unable to share this with even the best friends, and still having to fear the opinion of those just waiting for a chance to have their pick on me - because of the work I do.

There is the grief of years wasted in a battle that never should have been fought, the irony being that what caused my needs also caused my moral problems with it. And yes, there is that fear of losing it all...after all those years.. The fear of staying that lone rider, hiding in strength and isolation.

I will add the original post..there is nothing to be ashamed about. And believe me, I know what wolf I want to feed..but for now it is a very sad and lonely wolf. Thank you all, thank you so much..
Rowen dammit, I couldn't respond to this right away because it made me cry my eyes out. Everything is blurry with tears.

How do I start? My father, while not an abuser enabled my abuse to occur. He could have taken me out of the school where it was happening but he didn't. Also, while not abusive, he is highly critical and it seems at times he considers it his right to stay that way. "That is how I was brought up. That is the way I learned," is what he says whenever I say something about it.

While I hated my abuser, it's difficult with my dad. I have gotten to a place where I hate how he acts and what he says, but for him personally I only feel a deep gut wrenching sadness.

I told him once that at this time in my life I would just like to sit with my him and talk about life. Maybe gain a pearl of wisdom or two. You probably know how he responded, "That is how I was..." Sometimes I want to shout, "Oh just shut the fuck up! You just don't get it!"

It is doubly hard when it is your family. With someone on the outside you can indulge in a really violent fantasy and it offers some relief. With family it only offers guilt.

Like Grandfather said in the story, "hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times."

Sometimes though, hate can cause you to move. It can become such a drain that you must move on.

The beginning of my true healing from my abuse began with the story I told below. I indulged the anger, almost losing my sanity in the process, but it worked for me.

After the episode where I lived in my fantasy, I wrote a poem about fantasizing climbing in the window of the place where my abusive teacher lived and painting the room red with her blood.

I is a rather good poem actually. Nowhere does it say explicitly that the main character carves up his victim, but there is no question what happened. Then I did a series of paintings about my experiences.

Since then I have not been able to get to the same place of anger and hate. I've exhausted it, and me.

Soon, I will be able to let go. The wound still bleeds, just not so freely anymore.

You will reach that place too.