Choices I couldn’t make

Well, I’ve sort of voiced who you all who he is.

He’s a family member. He lives close by. Literally impossible to escape.

Saturday evening began with him showing our other family members pictures of him and I from years ago.

Him remembering all the ways in which we were close. When I was a child. When I was 6 years old. He’s showing me the pictures of when I used to sit on his lap…when I wanted to spend time with him…when I felt safe with him.

I don’t really know what to say or how to say any of this.

We had to go over to his house on Saturday night. I didn’t make the choice to get that intoxicated. I had my usual number of drinks, or even less. I know my limits, I know how much I can handle, and my aim is never to get to the point of feeling sick or not remembering. I drink a lot in general. Too much. I’ll be the first to admit that. But that being said, I’m pretty damn familiar with the process.

So when I tell you that I didn’t make certain choices on Saturday night…I’m confident in myself and my knowledge of myself. In this moment, I have enough respect for me to trust myself.

He followed me into the bathroom, once again. He was inappropriate with me and took advantage of me. I don’t remember a lot of the night. My memory is spotty and scattered. I started writing a post that night. I didn’t get very far into it, but I knew how I was feeling. Even then, in the moment, I knew I wasn’t okay.

I titled it “I think he drugged me”. And I think I’m right. Or at the very least, made my drinks significantly stronger when I wasn’t looking. I had one, maybe 2 drinks. On top of knowing my limits, I’ve learned to drink much less when in his presence. There is no reason I should have such spotty memory from that night. There’s absolutely no reason I should have felt that sick.

While it would genuinely shock me if that was true…it also wouldn’t. He has a history of trying to get me drunk. Of encouraging me to drink more than I want to. Constantly filling my glass and bringing me more. He’s trying to put me in a position of weakness where my choices are stripped from me.

None of this is okay.

I feel robbed of my VERY few “positive” childhood memories that I had. I feel disgusting.

I feel taken advantage of once again. In a very big way. My choices aren’t mine to make. My body isn’t mine to control.

It’s fucked up.

He was my favorite person. I don’t know how we got here. I don’t know how this happened.

And I don’t know where to go from here.

Feeling hopeless sucks.

13 thoughts on “Choices I couldn’t make”

    1. He’s not a bad person though. I wish it wasn’t so complicated. And then I’m the one that feels horrible because I do still care about him. Even though I hate him. And I just don’t get it. Ugh.

      1. I don’t know, I’d say that qualifies someone for bad person-hood. Caring/hating sounds like he’s been doing some emotional manipulation in an attempt to keep you quiet.

  1. I think someone can have good qualities and do terrible things. People are complex. But the thing is, the good qualities don’t reduce the person’s responsibility for his bad actions and should not let him escape accountability.

    1. You’re right, that’s a good point and a perspective I often forget. It’s a strange concept to feel guilty for having negative feelings towards someone who deserves it.

    1. In my head I’m so angry with him. Sometimes I hate him. Then I feel guilty for feeling that way about someone who pretty much raised me. I wish I could at least be consistently angry.

      1. Shock anger denial pain adjustment and finally acceptance or at least resigned to the fact he did this. A person can fleet between all of these stages over many years. It’s part of the grief and loss of self journey that we all go through. It seems not to make sense yet it’s normal. So inconsistently angry is ok

  2. A sexual predators behavior is evil

    Does not really matter what else he does

    Rape is evil

    Nothing he can do will change who he is

    The good they do is to manipulate their sexual desires

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