What happens when my abusers die?

Interesting thought, huh? It had never occurred to me until last night, when I dreamt that I received the news that my grandparents and father had been killed in a terrible car accident.

What would you expect me to do? People in my dream seemed baffled by my response…

Of course there was relief. But I wasn’t ecstatic. I was all over the place. I was definitely relieved, of course. My life looked considerably safer now, and I felt less like a huge weight was sitting on my shoulders. I jumped less when my phone rang, and was more able to relax. But I was also consumed by grief, yes really. Especially for my dad, seeing as on some level our relationship was more compatible. But also for the better sides and better times with my grandparents (did happen, and I will give them that. Have a few very precious memories of sitting with them and just laughing freely. God knows what happened afterwards but just those few moments are dear to me…) I also felt insanely guilty, and also angry at myself. Never would there be the chance to form some closure; either by cutting them all off completely or by sitting with them all in a public place and talking stuff through, and deciding from there what the best plan would be. Never could I just scream at them for what they did to me. Never could they actually see the damage, and equally never could I properly hear what had been going in their head, and see if there were any redeemable factors. There would be no conclusion. Just left in limbo.

It had all just been snatched away from me. No sense of closure and left with questions that would never have an answer, and left wondering if a half-normal relationship could have ever happened between me and my dad….

so grief, anger, relief, sadness, guilt…. fruit salad.

Why? Is this because of the letter I drafted to send to my Dad if needed? Is this because I’m actually this close <—> to cutting the ties completely and never looking back? Is this because part of me does fear they may drop at any moment; there’s no denying their physical health is not healthy, and so I’ll never have the chance to leave limbo? There’s so much I want to ask them, to scream at them, and to hear. Is this because logging on facebook yesterday and the first thing I saw was a picture of my grandparents from last week…I couldn’t help it; I stared. For ages. I kept looking at them thinking; you don’t look bad. What happened to you? and you don’t look scary. You both look old and tired. How was I so scared and unable to do anything? I also realised how old they’re looking lately. Part of me pitied them…

So today I’ve been left a bit stuck. They are unsafe and have caused me considerable damage, and I’m only just starting to recover.

And yet, they hold so many answers. They are the answer to my closure, either by me cutting it all off entirely and starting a completely new life…or by sitting in a room with them, and talking. Which would probably lead to screaming because I expect they’ll still try and convince me I deserved it and was “the most selfish person” they’d ever met. But at least there would be that screaming match, and at least I’d leave knowing there could never be a relationship of any kind. Perhaps, just maybe…they’d be sorry. Maybe they’d actually crumble in front of me and cry for everything they’d done; maybe my resilience and “no I did not deserve it, you were wrong” would crack them. Maybe they’d see I’m not a child anymore who can be walked all over…

Maybe, I’d actually get an apology.

My dream showed me no result, because I stayed in limbo too long, and then the chance was snatched from me. Mindmush. I don’t know what to do…

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