A while ago, I made some art about things said to me - It was a little booklet talking about the "venom" gifted to me during my childhood up until young adulthood. Trust me, the booklet could have gone on if I had enough paper.
But what I have been dealing with since then, was the absolute frenetic reaction from one of the main perpetrators. It was strong, it was bizarre. While I have developed and honed so many good skills over the years, and in my practise; things that help me see gaslighting behaviour for what it is, it still knocked me off my feet.
And it continues to be a thorn in my side, as this person continues their campaign into how bitter, abusive, and anxiety causing I am, continues to push themselves into my view, wants me to know, that in this "battle", I am the one who has not been chosen by the tribe...how me not at peace with the insults about my "looks", the fatphobic comments, the literal stripping me naked in front of other people when I was 14, as the "jokes" it was meant to be. When I write it here, it's a resounding "Fuck No! This person is behaving messed up."
When it's in my head - I feel like maybe I am misremembering, maybe I am being "too sensitive", maybe, maybe, maybe...I am the problem. That this shouldn't matter to me now, I have done so so much work, and I have so many cool things happening in my life, that the transgressions of another human should mean so much less.
I've cut cords, I've done unbinding... but here you are again - and my inner parts are all on high alert, the one ready to laugh off what you said, the one ready to insult you back, the one wanting to run away into the room, and read in safety, the one physically afraid as I recall you trying to "chop me" with a bush knife and hit me, while everyone laughed and shrugged it off as "Oh you know X", the one who remembers playing in the mud, the one who remembers your protection and love, the one who wants to know you still, and the one who wants this all to be over - to never have to think about you in such depth again.
I hate that this affects me now. I hate that I couldn't stand up to you better as a kid. I hate that no adults intervened. I hate that you tried to censor my art. I hate that you try to silence my voice. I hate that you think I need your validation. I hate that you're so loved, and that people actively gloss over your mistakes. I hate that you felt "I'm sorry BUT, or WHAT-ABOUT" was going to be a decent apology. I hate that you forced yourself into my space, and continue to try to do it. I hate that I spend time feeling or trying to feel deeper empathy for you. I hate this spouted idea that if I am healing, I must forgive. I hate how you are gabbing about me right now.
And I hate, I fucking hate, that I love you.