To forgive is to betray the person you were

 I met an old neighbor again today. Every time they say you should forgive people and that people are complicated. Family is important. 

I was hurt. I was hurt so deeply that it shaped me into what I am today. Something broken and bright,  dark and hopeful. I'm not right. Something is wrong with me, it hasn't changed since I was little. Awareness doesn't stop me from being swept away by the sudden waves of anxiety or anger. Sometimes I feel powerless and out of control. It was all my fault. I'm a problem. 

But forgiveness is not something I will ever strive for. I want to protect the person I was,  the kid who felt so broken and horrible that she was nothing but alone and isolated. The kid whose chest ached with such agony that she wanted nothing more than to disappear. That she desired to be swept away and forget everything no matter what it would cost. She would rather be saved by a monster if not a hero. 

The only one who can save you is yourself. Just how much has changed?

Forgiveness means forgetting the times I was alone. Crying over my mom's chair wishing she was there. Crying silently when everyone had someone there for them at their graduation except for me. Wishing my dad would care enough to even turn down his TV late in the night,  enough to care about my future and grades and sleep. To forget how he only cared about himself getting in trouble. How his anger meant fear. His anger could mean pain. 

Forgetting who he is; yelling and cursing horrible things at people while I watched and waited for him to just stop,  either committing violent acts of road rage or falling asleep behind the wheel while I was present, calling me bad and making promises things would get better. Saying life isn't fair. Life was never fair. 

I had nobody. 

I think something in me broke one day. Maybe it was my back bone. I tried to behave. I thought it would make things better if I was good. Because all i ever was was bad. I was told I was bad,  I ruined everything. He said he had 7 more years to get rid of me, he made me beg on my hands and knees when he picked up the phone saying he was calling child services to send me away. I snapped and behaved and did chores he wouldn't do like a good girl. Sometimes I wonder how much of myself is an act to be good, how much of me is forced,  adapted.

When they finally investigated because my aunts reported him he was possessive and angry. He threatened violence to my aunt saying he would shoot her. Saying cps couldn't take me away. He promised them he would make things better.  He lied.

He hurt me and twisted me for so long. He remained ignorant. 

I couldn't trust him. I can't trust anyone. People have proved to me that. They've proved my doubts about myself right. 

You see, forgiveness is not an option. Forgiveness is to forget the pain, the fear,  the isolation, the longing, the numbness, the grief. All while he sat back and only paid attention when it was convenient. To be a parent and show off his work on Facebook while doing nothing. I have been independent and self reliant for a long, long time. 

I've been told I'm resourceful and clever and I plan well. Is it just me or is it something I learned? 

I wish this could end. I wish I could be better. I wish things could be normal,  I wish they came easier.

 Why am I still thinking about this?