Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Day 61: My Experience with Violence, I am not Violence

My experience with Violence started when I was a kid.
When I started to disagree on what my mother set as The Rules for My behaviour, slaps started to fly.
I have the physical memory of what being slapped felt like as a child, once she slapped me so hard I felt electricity run on one side of my mouth and had the slap feeling on my face imprinted there for hours afterward, I hated to be touched when she was enraged, pushed around and even more being slapped.
I found slaps in the face humiliating and unjust, there was a huge sense of injustice rising inside of me because I could not slap her back, the first time I did when I was 17 all hell broke loose, as this was a cultural taboo, every one was expected to take them and to never return them.
I remember as well what kinds of thoughts I would immediately move to when I felt physically violated, they went from rage to murderous and the feelings matched from anger to hatred.
All of this stuff I suppressed it because I did not know what to do with it and because it was immoral and bad to have certain thoughts and feelings against one's parents, so I added the self judgement on top of the pile of shit. By the time I was 17 and I smoked my first joint that was it, I had found my Nirvana, I would just no longer think about this stuff and felt peace and love for all the world, or so I thought until I discovered that it was like the bathtub plug, every time I pulled the plug all the stuff I had suppressed came back on the surface, every time I gave up Pot my first three days off were hell and spent in tears, I learnt later from other addicts that they all went through the same experience, so Pot is just like Antidepressants, when you give them up you'll face it all, the idea that stuff had magically gone away was just a delusion.
When Violence at home began, I started to hate all Authority Figures as well and became defiant to all of them, from police, to teachers, judges, anyone in the 'authority category' I would just patronize them, or so I pretended.
Of course within this defiant personality I had all sorts of ideas of what I would have done if I had ever met a violent man in my life, I would have jumped up, hit him with an uppercut, cut his balls off and  flushed them in the toilet, I was the Brave Brigade until the day I met One Violent Man.
This was actually the point in my life when I eased out on judging others, I had all sorts of ideas on abortions and the women who undergo them, until I had 2, and all sorts of ideas on women that allow men to beat them up, until I got beaten up.
I don't suggest getting the hang of it this way, it's painful and scarring,  I should have just given up all judgements on anyone and on myself too, they are really ridiculous and usually just the result of my demented imagination that played out righteousness and personalities to just be better than others, so I would not have to feel so lousy by comparison.
When I was 23 I met a guy, he was my colleague, he flirted with me endlessly at work but I had a boyfriend, I didn't want  to cheat, I was NOT a Cheater, for that I waited to be married, so I left my perfectly nice and kind boyfriend to embark on the whirlwind romance that this other guy had to offer. Of course I moved into the relationship with plenty of guilt, I basically threw out my boyfriend of 3 years from home finding something to fault him about and then even refused to have proper communication with him to support him to find a good reason for the break up, I simply couldn't, because there was none, I just fancied the other guy more.
There was something 'dangerous' about him, he was very fit, in great shape, and he was considered our new star employee, another genius like me, but he was recognized as such by his wage, so I thought I could vicariously enjoy some of his stardom and that he was a more suitable match for me.
He took me to meet his family,  when I looked back the signs of something off were all there, the mother and his father looked at me with a mixture of pity and gratefulness, strange because this guy was an obvious good catch. One day he told me that he had slapped a woman, I told him 'you must have had your good reasons', I wanted to look cool and non impressionable and fearless, like whatever, as long as it was not me. On another occasion we were sitting having a sandwich and I physically felt his rage, and even told him, I feel so much rage in you, where do you play this rage out and he said 'at the gym'.
One morning he pushed me around because of something I said and I rolled over the couch, he was soo apologetic, he said sometimes he did not realize his strenght. All the signs were there, yet I could not ditch him after I had left my perfectly good boyfriend for him, had to try and make it work.
Slowly I realized he had infiltrated my life, he kind of moved in without ever talking about it, he wanted immediately a tight relationship, almost obsessive, would call me  continuously at work when we were already no longer working together, every evening we were supposed to be together, plus sex was lousy, for some strange reason sex was the least intimate part of our relationship, in sex he really moved away, like I became a thing and no longer a person.
Two months later I asked him to leave, I told him I did not want this relationship and I was about to list the whys and I started with 'you are crazy' which triggered something and he slapped me and I flew across the bed. I felt the humiliation rise, I started to say I would report me if he touched me again, but by then I saw the demonic look in his eyes, just a moment too late, he dragged me to the kitchen threw me on the floor, pulled me by my hair against the wall and started to kick me in my chest and in my head while he held me by the hair, I had the experience of moving out of fear into pure survival, I was not physically afraid, I was just trying to cover my face and while he kicked me and said not to worry because he knew how not to leave any marks he told me that 'it's easy to take it on the weakest one, isn't it ?" Which given the situation was odd to say the least. But it wasn't if one sees that he was in playback mode, playing out the assault at his father over and over again. When he thought he did enough damage, he stood up to leave, of course  could not let him go just like that, after such an immense Ego bruising, so I stood up and said 'men that beat women are just deepshits', he put down his bag, came back pulled me by my feet to make me fall again and then sat on my chest chocking me, while he asked me to 'say I was sorry'. That is when I felt fear again, I flashed ahead to my corpse in the living room and my mother being told I was dead and all the grief this would cause and no one ever knowing what happened to me. so I tried to say Sorry, but I couldn't because he was chocking me so hard that I could not breathe, but finally he let go just enough for me to breathe and speak the 'I'm sorry' words and I did. Then he got up took his bag and left.
The next day I went to work, put on my normal work face and pretended nothing happened but one of my close friend from the HR came  to my office and standing on top of me saw my hair were not right, chunks were missing and when she asked about it I told her the story, she said nothing, went to her room and called him, he was at home, he was too sick to go to work and she told me that if anything else happened to me she would make sure he would never work again in whole Italy. This is how we settle stuff in Italy, from one threath to another, the bigger we grow in power, the more we grow in association, we end up in the family, the Cosa Nostra, the Mafia Clan.
He had some friends left at my office, he scratched his face and then invited them for drinks and told them that WE had a fight and that I beat him up, when I spoke to one of the 2 friends he was close to, he did not believe me, they introduced him to another woman,  he sent that one to the hospital.
Two days after he beat me I thought about reporting him, he told me he had a pile of reports for abuses 'up to here', so not believing in the justice system of my country, I called his father and asked him to call me back when he could talk. The father listened to me and then confessed that he was an habitual offender but they could no longer force him into treatment because he was of age, past 18 and therefore they could no longer interfere,  he said as well that if it was any consolation, he beat only the ones he really loved, funny because this happened to me as well when I was a child and I had a vicious admirer in the courtyard. Actually no, it was of absolutely no consolation.
For 2 weeks afterward I crawled against walls when going home  in fear he would be waiting for me somewhere, one interesting point of this experience is that the physical pain was almost immediately forgotten, It was the fucking "I'm sorry' that didn't go down at all, I saw myself as a coward pitiful woman that was not willing to die for her pride, how ridiculous is that, yet this was The Point of scarring of the whole experience, two weeks later the fear of him waiting for me vanished too, until he called me one Saturday to ask me out again, I remember fearing that he was somewhere close and going to lock my door, I told him 'you know you are sick right ?' and he said 'yes, would you help me ?' and I said "I can't, I don't know how to help you plus I don't trust you. Would  you meet you again after what happened  And he said 'before or after buying a Kalashnikov?' and I said 'so you gave yourself the answer because I am not buying a gun to feel safe to meet you again, but I wish you all the best and do look for help'.

Two months ago, my same friend that told him she would make sure he would never find a job again told me, 'you now CP, he is in jail in California'. She said it was on national TV, she did not know why.
I knew why, I went on the web and researched the trial transcripts, assault, rape, kidnapping, vicious beatings. In the trial transcripts they interviewed another girlfriend, she said he was violent with her every time he drank, he chocked her, set her clothes on fire and many other things.
The one that brought him  down said many things in which I could read the evolution of him as the mind in a very logical thread, he did it for sure, was jailed for 8 years, but never admitted to doing it, not even to have his time reduced, the shame of the labels was worse  than jail term, now he is again on National TV debating his innocence, I see him, I know he did it, we started out the same, violence at home, when I slapped my mother back he broke his father arm, I had just me to protect, he had his 2 younger brothers too, when he drunk all the suppressed rage the sense of injustice, the violence and the humiliation he never dealt with rose up, and Mr. Jekyll would turn into Mr. Hide, it could have been me, he is Me, the Violence and the rage  just never attended to because I knew that being a woman would never lead me there, I would stop at self abuse and some verbal abuse, but it was just the lucky gender roulette and not by any chance me being better than him.

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe that I was the rage and violence that I felt when my mother hit me and I could not hit her back

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe I was the hatred that I felt for my mother when she hit me and that I desired her to die, when in fact I hated myself for my own self abuse and I desired to  die

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe that I had to suppress the sense of extensive injustice at being physically violated, because it is normal and legit that an authority figure can do what they want because they had power over me because I was small and she was big, instead of seeing I was being System Indoctrinated to obedience through violence in this sick system of abuse that we have created

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to judge myself as bad and disgusting for entertaining negative emotions toward my mother that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe Had Authority Over Me, instead of seeing it was me giving my authority away because I connected my mother to survival and I did not know what else to do or where to go to survive

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to hate myself because if my mother hit me and slapped me around I must have deserved it and if I deserved it I must have been worthless and unlovable

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe that it was my mother job to love me when she couldn't even love herself, instead of seeing it was my job and my responsibility to love me and be there for me

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to desert myself because I was such a BAD child that even my mother didn't love me and so I shouldn't love or care for myself

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to NOT care for myself and love myself when my mother had stated through the violence used to rule me that I was not to be cared for or loved

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe that my mother believed that I was unlovable and bad just because she couldn't control herself and what was going on inside of her

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe I was a victim of my mother's outburst and  for emboding the victim construct as the result of my accepted and allowed beliefe in me as a victim

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to fear physical violence and the feeling of having been violated every time she either pushed me around or hit me in anger

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to fear for my life and my survival as a child because I did not know how far my mother would go and how to toe the line to prevent these outbursts

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to normalize physical violence inside of me by disconnecting myself more and more from my body in fear of the physical pain I would have to endure if I was one and equal to my physical body

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe that passion, love and violence are one and the same and for associating rough sex with passion/love and therefore with violence

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to engage a man who was OBVIOUSLY rage-full because I missed all the signs and instead saw a familiarity between him and myself failing to see that what we had in common was years of bottled up rage and humiliation that we had covered up with 'nice personalities that toed the line in appearance'

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to feel excited by his dangerous personality missing the danger part of dangerous because I have accepted and allowed myself to feel electrified by violence and for missing out the signals that what was electrifying about him was his suppressed violence, same as in my mother and myself

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to miss out on the  signs of his worried family when they met me, because I wanted to live dangerously this relationship with him because he made me feel valued through his obsession and desire to spend all the time with me

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to judge battered women as stupid whimps and imagine what I would have done in their place, not having a clue what is it like to be thrown against a wall yet imagining myself to be better than other women until I found myself in the same situation and took a good beating just like they did

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not stand up for myself the first time he pushed me around, because I had the experience to know that violence escalates but because I felt guilty over how I had dumped my boyfriend for him parts of me believed I deserved everything that was coming for me

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not hear him when he told me he had slapped a woman and for saying 'you must have had your good reasons' because he was trying to have an honest communication but I was too busy playing out the cool cookie to pay any attention to someone that was as sick as me and that as me was desperately trying to suppress it and not show it

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe that there are 'good reasons' for violence and that sometime when 'one is needed it should be given', because I have internalized this talk from my mother justifying why she would use violence against me

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to move out of my body when he hit me to a degree that I realized the damage and the fear I felt only when my hair fell off in chunks because I feared for my life

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to fear dying in a beating and being chicked to death and having my corpse discovered in my apartment and the grief that it would cause my mother

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to use my mother's potential grief as the excuse to allow myself to say 'I am sorry'' instead of seeing that it was the common sense thing to do given the situation and that I did not have to feel guilty and a coward for doing what I had to do to save my life

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to hate myself for saying 'I'm sorry' because even in that moment I wanted to keep up the apperance of the strong resiliant woman above living and I hated to say an "i'm sorry" in exchange for my life

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to believe that my personalities are more valuable than my Life and that I should die defending them as to say that my Mind is more important than My Life and I should die defending it, which is NOT the case

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not see in this man a clear mirror of myself as a result of violence and suppressed thoughts and emotions as a child and that while I did not support myself to stop my self abuse he did not stop himself and his self abuse escalated all the way to damaging acts of violence to which I have not given in just because I suppressed myself more efficiently than him

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to blame him  for what happened between us, instead of seeing what happened as the manifested consequences of my self abuse and my self judgement of myself as worthless and unlovable and as a victim that did not stand as the Authority Figure in and as myself and someone else around me always did in my place

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to hate all authority figures because I blamed them for taking my power away and for having power over me, instead of seeing that it was me giving my power away believing that I was helpless and unable to stand for and as myself

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to suppress my feelings and emotions with food because tonight when  I discovered he is actually out of jail and watched his interviews on you tube I went into  an unreasonable fear and saw myself desire to eat, simply because I could not drink or smoke pot, and so I saw clearly my pattern of suppression play out that I did not stop, because I stuffed myself before sitting down and writing all of this out, instead of sitting down and writing myself out instead of accepting to suppress myself in any way

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to react with anger and rage and then desire for revenge when I discovered he was out of jail after just 8 years (sic) proclaiming his innocence when I know from the transcript that he did it because the patterns were the same as what he did to me just way worse and that I wanted to see him crucified and not excused and have everyone believing he is innocent when he is a repeat offender and a pathological liar, just like me

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not be wiling to forgive myself for this rage and violence I have lived one and equal to and for projecting on him my own desire to crucify myself instead of stopping all self abuse and standing in  and as the correction that is required by me to own all of me in self responsibility and keep walking my process

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to  withhold my self forgiveness and to project on others One and Equal to me the withholding of my forgiveness, even when I can clearly see the absolute mirror of myself even to the point that I too would lie about such crimes in fear of those labels and the judgements of others I should live with, reminding me I am a violent rapist and an abuser of myself and others

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to fear the judgement of others and of myself about what I have accepted and allowed myself to become through and as The Mind, as an Abuser of Life, of myself and others one and equal, in search for blood, revenge, squaring books of debts and credits, so I can live that one insignificant point of righteousness and for a moment stop seeing myself as such a fuck up

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to judge myself as a fuck up, everyone fucked up here according to our placement and life experience, so the sooner all judgements stop, the sooner we can start to heal and put all our pieces back together in alignment with Oneness and equality and What is Best for All

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to think 'I should reach out to him and introduce him to Desteni because he is a computer programmer and he would get what this is all about, and I can see the next one he will kill her, but then I went into fear of the consequences I may have to face, that the next one could be me, and made myself confused about what would be the best way to support him, if any

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to desire to save another that I did not support when I had a chance, believing that it is my responsibility to save others, instead of seeing I couldn't even if I wanted to because this is a process each one of us has to board on their own self will, but I can keep breathing and see if I find a way to let him have this material reconciling this point with what is best for me and best for all

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to participate in such a world where violence against children is accepted and supported and where Children Have No Consideration or guidance about how to develop into effective human beings and we turn out into monster, exponentially worse than our parents and the lineage we come from, as we keep compounding and diminishing ourselves into nothingness searching for Life in separation from ourselves as Life, here in every moment of Breath.

I commit myself to erase my existence of violence, of justifications of violence, of memories of violence and imprints of violence as I no longer support or justify violence as me, as past, present or future, or any self abuse that is rooted in violence and judgements of myself and others as violence.

I commit myself to stop the violence of me as The World, One and Equal by clearing myself of any reaction toward violence, walking my self correction of and as a violence free world into existence as Me, as Life, One and Equal.


  1. Great support Eleanora, I too was slapped as a child and felt just as you did. I buried this and now I have to face it and walk and write it..thanks!

  2. Wow - Thank you for sharing. Cool self-forgiveness