I think after the last post a few people might have been worried that I would turn into a vigilante and dedicate the rest of my life to exposing and destroying my ex.
Even I don’t have enough rage inside me to do that. I do feel enormous rage at times, but I would need to feel that all of the time to take on this kind of a vendetta.
And, frankly, it’s just not my style.
The law has dealt, as it saw fit, with my ex’s sex offences, Child Protection has been notified that he is living with small children and while I don’t like that he is being allowed to integrate back into society, this is not my call to make. I do support a public register of sex offenders, but until we get one, I will just need leave it to those appointed to protect our safety to do their job.
There is no legal action I can take to get justice for my abuse. Had the abuse been physical, I could have laid charges, but even though the Family Violence Act recognises emotional abuse as family violence, it does not provide any recourse for victims of such to seek justice.
It was, and is, important for me to understand and remember that I am not to blame for my abuse. While I was in regular contact with the health professionals in Melbourne, who knew me and my history, they constantly reminded me that it was not my fault. Again and again, I would take it upon myself to bear the blame, because “I chose him”, and again and again, my GP and counsellors would tell me, NO, he chose to ABUSE you, you did NOT choose to be abused. Hell, I didn’t even realise I was being abused, until I saw through the veil of lies and duplicity I was being fed.
I don’t have an answer right now for what would make me feel that justice has been served. When I’m really angry, I wish to see my ex, and all those close to him, destroyed, but as I said, I don’t care enough to make it my life’s work.
So instead, I will leave it to God, the Universe, or karma, to do what needs to be done and I will live my life in the knowledge that I was not to blame for what happened.
I will continue to strive to build the best possible life I can for me and the boys.
I will, one day, write a book about my experiences and I will not pull any punches. I will arm myself with legal advice about defamation and I will gather what evidence I need to support my story.
“Story”. It’s such a funny word. It implies that what I want to write about might or might not have happened. That it’s my word against his. And that’s the problem with emotional abuse. You can’t see it. I can only rely on the feedback from my GP, counsellors and psychiatrist as evidence that I did not imagine it. I can relate individual events and conversations as evidence of lies. And he can still spin the story to make mine “imagined”.
And I guess the reality is that truth and facts can be perceived from many different view points. What I see will be different to what you see and different again to what your friend sees. And yet, we might all have witnessed the same event.
All I can do is to speak MY truth. Because that is my superpower.
Image by JD Hancock.