i just wrote this - to/for my wife - haven't had the nerve to show it to her yet. i know it is not reasonable and is contradictory - but it makes perfect sense to me. thought it might help others get it a little better.
I donít want to talk about it;
it feels intrusive to answer questions.
I donít want your commiserating pity;
it feels too condescending.
I donít want reassuring hugs:
they feel constrictive and confining.
I donít want you to protect me:
it makes me feel weak and pathetic.
I donít want conciliatory agreement;
it feels like you are humouring me.
I donít want your words of sympathy;
they sound fake and belittling.
I donít want you to be understanding;
there is no way you could ever know.
But there was once a little boy
who wanted all those things above.
He didnít ever get them, though
and now he always feels that hunger:
to be kept safe, to be fixed, to be held,
for someone to know and understand
and intervene and make it all right.
I know that he still needs it all
but his needs and my wants
are working at cross purposes.
I think Iíd like a little rage;
maybe he would too.
07 Ė 16 Ė 13
"the scariest thing about abuse of any shape or form, is, in my opinion, not the abuse itself, but that if it continues it can begin to feel commonplace and eventually acceptable."
- Alan Cumming, "Not My Father's Son"