Hatred saved my life.

If I had not turned all the energy of my hate directly towards the people who brought me into the world I never would have made it.  That's a very sharp double edged sword, because learning to hate has to be undone too, which in and of itself bears considerable consequences.  The fact that they deserved my hatred did not negate the affects of holding it for so long.  People would tell me all the time that I needed to let go of the hatred I had for the people who brought me into this world. They just didn’t understand.

It's true I was shedding my temper while sitting in the hole, but at the same time I was gathering something else.  Pure animosity for those who caused my situation in life was in full effect, and growing every day.  Every single second of my day was a reminder of what they did to my life.  Sitting in the hole was the first time I had ever looked back on my life from outside of it.  Sitting in the hole gave me a vantage point of my past that I had never had before.  As a kid I always thought everyone was raised like me, that everyone else was like I was.  For the first time I truly realized what had happened to me, and it filled me with rage.  Had I been free when that realization came to me they would not have survived the week. 

I have always been tremendously stubborn about not letting go of that hate; I was right to hate them.  To say I love those people would be to have Stockholm syndrome.  Loving my abusers just isn’t an option.  No way, no how.  My personality can practically be defined for my ability to stick up for myself.  Those people are worthy of hate.   When people decide to treat a child the way I was treated, they deserve to be hated.  The way to raise children appropriately has been known for thousands of years.  It's not a secret.  By not hating them, I would be condoning their behavior, even if it was in degrees.  That’s not an option.  Some things in life are black and white.  Child abuse is one of those things.  Tolerance is not an option to someone who needs to be able to look themselves in the eyes and at the same time love who they see.  No one who truly has love for their self accepts abuse suffered.

If I were to beat, choke, humiliate, neglect, and abuse your child, to the point that it permanently affected the rest of your child's life, would you want me around after the fact?  What would you do to me?  What do you do when you are that child?   I've known many people in life who justify their own abuse as being acceptable simply because they want to maintain an ideal of having a mom or dad.  Somehow because one shares genetics with their abuser that abuse is suddenly acceptable?  For myself I cannot accept that.  The seventeen year old me was not able to forgive them.  Hatred of them filled my mind. 

To me now, it is not a matter of forgiveness; I have forgiven them.  I can totally understand how in complete ignorance they did what they did.  I too did a great many ignorant things, and looking back cannot see how I could have done any different.  It was all I knew.  I can look at their parents too, and how they were raised, and see clearly why they did what they did.  I can see in myself, that no matter how hard I tried, I still ended up being like my parents in what to me are horrible ways.  But does this level of empathy somehow absolve them of what they did?  Does it absolve me of my wrongs if you were to have empathy for my situation?  It does not.  I can forgive them and at the same time still hold them accountable.  Forgiveness does not wipe the slate clean. 

I've spent most of my life constantly seeking an answer to the biological parent situation.  I spent a whole decade asking those I looked up to about what I should do about them.  I'd ask strangers, anyone, I didn't care.  I just wanted to resolve the issue.  How was I to view the situation, so that I could come to terms with it?  No one ever gave me an answer.  It was something I had to do for myself.  I do not speak to them anymore.  Every time I would be around them, or have to deal with them, it would only bring the hatred back.  Every time I was suffering in life due to their actions, my mind would be consumed with bitterness.  Not only did I have to let it go, but I had to let them go as well. 

Unfortunately there were many times throughout my life where the hatred almost did consume me to my own detriment.  I spent most of my life wishing for their death.  Why couldn't they just die?  Would my bitterness die with them?  I will be greatly relieved when they finally pass, because then when people ask me about my parents I can simply respond that they are dead and the conversation will be over.  As it is now, I have to explain how and why I do not have a relationship with my biological parents if I am ever questioned intently, or else lie.  This scenario is just more fuel for the fire.

I have spent almost all of my life undoing what they did to me.  Hatred was the only thing that got me through most of it.  It kept me going when nothing else did.  If I had not hated them so much I would have settled and been like them.  It didn’t allow me to slide, or settle, or accept any aspects of myself that were like them.  Still to this day whenever I catch myself doing something as a result of what they did to me, it fuels my fire.  It always makes me try harder.  Hatred was my outlet for the frustration, the suffering, it's an outlet for the negative impact of those people on my life.  My hatred of them kept me from hating myself.  It was an energy that had to be dealt with.  I turned it towards them instead of in on myself.  I wanted to destroy them, not me.  I wanted what they put in me out.

I choose to be the exact opposite of them; I take responsibility for my actions.  My ignorance was no excuse for harming others.  To those that I have wronged in life due to my ignorance, all I can say is, I put more energy into improving myself than anyone I know, and I do this in order to say I am sorry.  I show that I am sorry not by saying it, but by stopping doing those things to anyone anywhere anymore.  I show it with my actions.  Just like them, I can say, I didn't know any better, and that I did my best, but unlike them, I do not use it as an excuse.  Sometimes our best is not good enough, and so we must compensate for our actions.  It is not enough to completely screw someone over and then say "well, I did my best." It is not enough to say "well, sorry that happened," and then continue doing the same old shit.  When I am wrong, when I have harmed others, I immediately go to righting it; this is how I say I am sorry. 

They have never done this.  They have never even tried.  As I sat in the hole for months, dwelling on my situation, I vowed to myself to never be like them.  I was going to put my whole being into it.  I'd have to undo the hatred another day, because back then it was all I had.  Hatred and I shook hands.  We made a deal.  Hatred and I became one in the same.  I focused it on people whom I couldn't get to, which meant everyone else was safe.  No more lashing out at the world.  No more uncontrollable outbreaks.  Now my rage finally had an appropriate target.  Now it was all about not being like them.  Nothing else really mattered.