I have a problem with the way victims are treated. In particular, rape/abuse victims. There’s a phenomenon in our society that’s referred to as “blaming the victim.” Blaming the victim occurs when the victim of any crime or wrongful act is held in anyway responsible for the thing that has happened to them. The victim is lying. Faking. She asked for it. She didn’t fight back, so she got what was coming to her. Time has passed. She should be over it.
Why isn’t she over it? It’s been so long.
It happens every day and it’s utterly ridiculous. And wrong. So wrong. I do what I need to do. I sit where I need to sit, I leave when a topic makes me uncomfortable, I try to do the best I can. I can’t always prevent things from happening around me. I cannot control my environment, just as I can’t control the things that have happened to me.
You should be able to do these things, interact with all members of society.
Society wants me to stay quiet, and so I have. I dance around topics and I never really say anything outright. The things in my head are uncomfortable for people and hard to talk about. I GET that. But the little voice in the back of my head says, “But what about me? If it’s hard for other people to talk about, how do they think it is for me?” I’ll tell you. It sucks. So I don’t do it unless I have to. And I have my select handful of people that I will talk to, because I know that they won’t hate me for it.
You brought this on yourself.
PTSD is a beast. It sleeps for a while, and then it doesn’t sleep. It wakes up. It isn’t always controllable. It’s random. There are precautions a person can take, and I do. And I do well. I take care of myself. I’m amazing and strong and I do the things I need to do. Life is out there, and I show up. I show up every day, and I do the best that I can. So when something happens, it catches me by surprise. And even though it shouldn’t, it overshadows all of the other things I have done. It overshadows me showing up. It makes me feel like I shouldn’t even bother, because this thing happened to me. That I am somehow worth less because this thing happened to me.
You’re being ridiculous. Nothing happened.
Here’s what I have learned from my journey today into asking for the things I need: What I’m seeking isn’t there. Why? Because my reactions are not normal. My feelings are not normal. I should be past these things, better. I should be able to interact as a normal participant in society (which for the most part, I do). I should be able to control my emotions and feelings (again, I mostly do).
Here’s what I hear them say:
It’s my fault. What happened is my fault.
It’s your fault.
Nobody actually says this out loud. But it’s in their actions, in the things that they don’t say. I read between the lines, and I project my garbage onto the world.
Damn you society, for making me feel like shit. Damn you and your ideals of normalcy for never allowing me to measure up. And damn you for making me feel like I should.
Because that isn’t right, and it isn’t fair, and I don’t want to do it anymore.
I just wish I knew what to do about it.