Friday, 10 January 2014

Outrage.

I think outrage is the greatest weapon against almost anything. Outrage is about the only thing I can guarantee I'll always feel, and outrageous is how I am when I'm probably at my best (that last bit has bugger all to do with the price of eggs, but it's true). I sometimes struggle with the whole idea of recovery because recovery has a lot riding on acceptance of all manner of shit, and I think there are some things that we just should not ever accept.

I know acceptance of yourself and your past is a lot different to accepting certain scenarios at a conceptual level, but I think maybe I'm just scared that if I accept the abuse I went through, I'll become complacent about the world. Maybe I'll stop wanting to be sick and my heart-rate taking off when I hear that things that happened to me are happening to children, and that even the things that haven't happened to me, but that I'm outraged about- famine, genocide, UK and world poverty, child labour, slavery, etcetc- will become things I just accept. I don't want to live without passion for people I love and outrage about situations that that are wrong. I don't want to live without passion and outrage at all.

If you know me or you've followed SBIWYB for any length of time, you'll know I'm an utter nightmare for hyperbole, grandiose plans and sweeping statements. To be honest, even if you don't know me but you've seen me, you've probably already worked that one out based on my outfits (one of my best friends' dads described me as being 'dressed like an explosion' and my nurse described me having a 'schizophrenic dress sense.' My mama just kind of recoils every time she sees what I've put together and my brother used to start every morning by asking 'what the fuck have you come dressed as?'). To say I have no interest in a world where everything is accepted and everybody is laid back about atrocity, is probably at least part of my current issues. 

I sometimes feel like I'm going to explode because I'm so caged in and I feel like nobody else cares as much as they should about the things that I do. I don't understand how people can close their eyes or look away, and I feel so guilty and responsible for absolutely everything. I'm outraged that people will demand that we, as country, take ourselves out of international aid packages or that people compare small disasters in this country to things like the Syrian situation as arguments for why we should 'take care of our own.' I need to channel my outrage because at the moment it's just isolating me from both the issues and my surroundings, and my head is going so fast that I'm scared it'll take off. 

I have this burn in my stomach because I don't understand how what happened to me could have even happened, how people can sometimes be so bloody... I don't even have words. I don't understand how I can come to terms with it whilst retaining the view that little of my past should happen to others. I really, really don't understand acceptance because I'm angry. I'm angry and I'm constantly reliving the past. A lot of the time at the moment I have absolutely bugger all idea of what is real, what is the past and what is fabricated and the only thing that feels real is the assertion that I need to lose weight. I'm drowning, in my past, my problems and the problems of everyone around me. I feel so responsible for what happened to me and what is happening around the world, because I didn't stop anything and I'm not stopping anything now. I don't even know if this makes sense. But I really do feel like I'm drowning.

1 comment:

  1. Rebecca... when I started following you a while ago, I was enamored by your writing, how you could put words on a page that could be heart wrenching and meaningful... I came in at a point where I was not aware of your past... although as time went on I felt something had happened. It tears at my heart for what some children have to live with, what you must have to live with ... it is an atrocity, I don't understand either and I don't know how I could forgive anyone that did that but then I never thought I could forgive my ex for raping me but I did, I did it for me... if I didn't I never would have been able to move past that night... it would have forever defined me, I refused. That is why we need to forgive but I agree with you about the acceptance ... I never want to become complacent or say that it is alright... somethings are NOT alright... Thinking about and hoping you will find peace somehow... <3

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