As I let it out, layer by layer, Dr. Driscoll helped with the bumps and valleys. He knew just how much to draw out of me and how much I could handle. He is such an expert in his profession. He told me that the guilt I was feeling was not guilt, but regret. Guilt is a good thing. It is a mechanism by which we shouldn't make the same mistake twice. If you do something questionable, then the next chance you get to do it, guilt should stop you. I had no guilt. I had regrets, many regrets, but no guilt. It took some convincing, but he prevailed. There was always a nagging in my head, that if only I had had the guts to kill Neary myself, it would have stopped him from harming others, but that was not to be as a small boy. It does hurt that, maybe, just maybe, if I had carried out one of my many plans to kill him and myself then I could have saved victims younger than I. As victims come forward from almost all the churches where he served—and some are twenty—five plus years my junior—I feel that they would have been spared, if only I hadn't chickened out as a boy. Therein lies the answer; I was a little boy, a ten—year—old boy. Other victims of Neary were as young as six.
Charles L. Bailey Jr.Tag: journey guilt rape healing victim regret recovery psychotherapy priest therapy protection blame onion survivor sexual-assault painful psychologist clergy-abuse priest-abuse sexdual-abuse
The shame, embarrassment, feeling of low self-worth, and scores of "labels" we give ourselves are not fitting. I am beginning to see how I had no control over the situation. He was a big man, I was a little boy.
Charles L. Bailey Jr.Tag: journey guilt rape healing victim regret recovery psychotherapy priest therapy protection blame onion survivor sexual-assault painful psychologist clergy-abuse priest-abuse sexdual-abuse
It was the Communists, it was the Mexicans, it was the government. And the only people who acknowledged their guilt weren't guilty at all.
Connie WillisI hear the word
in the hall
over and over again.
Suicide.
Suicide.
Suicide.
Did he or didn’t he?
Everyone’s got a guess.
Still no one knows for sure,
except Gabe,
but he’s not talking.
Why does it even matter?
He’s gone.
His, ours, theirs—
blame needs a place.
His, ours, theirs—
pain all over the place.
His, ours, theirs—
forgiveness missing from this place.
Tag: forgiveness suicide grief blame
Scared people don’t really mean what they say, they’re just looking for ways to rationalize everything so they have someone or something to blame. They need to have a reason for what’s happening because when they have that they can take comfort in knowing it’s out of their control.
Chris DietzelTag: fear blame scared lack-of-control
This murdered girl troubles me. After the first shock, nobody at school says much about her. Even Cordelia does not want to talk about her. It’s as if this girl has done something shameful, herself, by being murdered.
Margaret AtwoodTag: girls women murder shame blame
Placing blame was easier than adding up the mounting figures of what he'd lost.
Alice SeboldSo often survivors have had their experiences denied, trivialized, or distorted. Writing is an important avenue for healing because it gives you the opportunity to define your own reality. You can say: This did happen to me. It was that bad. It was the fault
Ellen BassTag: innocence reality lies courage relationships shame guilt responsibility healing victim recovery blame child-abuse sexual-abuse survivor abuse childhood-abuse emotional-abuse abusive
No Child of Yours
I saw a child hide in the corner
So I went and asked her name
She was so naive and so petite
With such a tiny frame.
'No one,' she replied, that's what I am called
I have no family, no one at all
I eat, I sleep, I get depressed
There is no life, I have nothing left.'
'Why hide in the corner?' I had to ask twice
Because I've been hurt, it not very nice
I tried to stop it, it was out of my control
I feared for myself I wanted to go.
I begged for my sorrow to disappear
I turned in my bed, oh God, I knew they were near
'So come on little girl, where do you go
A path ahead, or a path to unknown?'
With that she arose, her head hung low
She held herself for only she knows
Her tears held back, her heart like ice
It looks as though she has paid the price.
The ice started melting, her tears to flow
The memories flood back, still so many years to go
The pain, the anger all built up inside
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
It will get better, just wait and see
You'll get a life, though you'll never be fire
Open your heart and love yourself
The abuse you suffered was NOT your fault.
Tag: fear poetry sorrow trust anger depression blame hiding child-abuse fault organised-abuse care-system child-in-care looked-after-child pindown
There are only do and don’t; can or can’t is just an excuse.
M.F. MoonzajerTag: life excuse pretext blame
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