This isn't about having to forgive myself. It's about looking in the mirror and seeing all the ways in which I am like him. I've always told myself that we were just there... available whenever the sick urge hit him. It never occurred to me that he would seek out another boy and go through the effort to groom him (them?) for the sole purpose of abusing him (them?). I have been forced to face the fact that my father, the man to who I owe half my genetic make-up, was most likely a boda-fide pedophile.
I have his eyes. I've always known that. Now, I look in the mirror and all I see is him - pure evil. It fills me with so much disgust/hate... I can't even describe it. Last night I had fantasies of cutting off one arm, one leg, one ear, digging out one eye... removing half of myself. Removing the part that is him. Thank God I'm not far enough gone to seriously consider actually doing it. I wanted so badly to just cut myself... I want to hurt the part that is him. So I got onto my treadmill and ran as hard as I could until it hurt. Then I kept running until my legs couldn't carry me any more. I'm hurting today - my whole body is hurting. I don't intend to even try to do anything to alleviate it. Being in physical pain is curbing my urge to self-injure further.
I need to call my brother. He probably feels the same way. But I'm scared. I've always been able to lean on him. What if he isn't strong enough to carry me this time?
I guess what I'm trying to say
Is whose life is it anyway because livin'
Living is the best revenge
You can play
-- Def LeppardMy Story
, Part 2My blog