I’ve had my tumblr savior turned off the last week or two to make roomfor some blogging I was doing about the things that trigger me.
And, it’s not so much the talking about the things that trigger me so much as it is the policing and shaming that never fails to appear when I do, when ANYone does. Because a lot of the time when I start speaking and let my voice out, it opens a yawning void for people who are desperately invested in “making sure” that the things that have happened in MY life NEVER happen to THEM. This is “accomplished” by shaming, harassing, and silencing me. Because if i am not silenced, the center does not hold. If I am a Person, then these things that have happened to me can also happen to People.
The only way they have to protect themselves from these things are to make sure they never happen to People, and that is accomplished by making sure I never, ever get to be a Person.
This entire process is an illusion.
These things happen to People all the time.
But silencing me protects the perpetrators of these Very Bad Things, and that’s what our culture and society hold the MOST dear. This is how the abusers make their victims the most insidiously complicit: that victims as well as abusers police, shame, and silence other victims.
To the shamers: I know what’s under your mask. I AM as dangerous as you think I am. I have the power to shatter the illusion that abusing ME will protect YOU. I can smell your guilt.
I’m not afraid of you. The worst things that can happen have already happened to me, and I have learned how much fear it is possible for a human shell to contain. I have my reasons for admiring rabbits. After the fear, when everything else has burned away, it is possible to sometimes build something on the ashes.
Do you think this is something that only happens online?
Do you think this blog is something other than an outlet to creatively cope with this happening all the time in my life offline?
When I turn off the computer, I’m still there and so are you. At my job, standing with my “friends”, at the other end of the telephone, on the television, in my books, lined up around the block to point and yell, “YOUR fault, YOUR fault.”
I thought I was a rabbit, I wanted to be a rabbit, but as it turns out that whether I want to or not, I’m a phoenix. No matter how I burn, I am born again into the same shitty world…that might be a tiny bit brighter than it was the last time.
I will burn it down to make room for myself in this world. I will burn it down to make a SPACE for myself IN MY OWN LIFE.
Because maybe it helps sometimes to choose the things that chose me.