Stop throwing stones to you.
You have never been accepted by anyone. That is why you are trying desperately to prove yourself everyday. Now you're burnt out.
The counselor told me in the 3rd session, I mean, the 3rd weeping session. Her summary was true... sort of. As soon as I passed the exam for public officer recruitment, people urged me to take another exam for 7th grade, saying "Your salary is far from enough." They regarded me highly. I didn't want to disappoint them and prepared it after work for more than a year, though I had already been exhausted. This is the way my life goes. Only strangers are kind to me. They don't judge me, they don't blame me, but they are just passers-by while I carry my burden on the shoulders. All they can do is just cheer me up. There has been nobody for me to lean on, and I have been nobody since I was born.
And you are blaming yourself, too.
Am I?
You know what? It may be your survival strategy, which is, hurting yourself.
She is right... sort of. I have cursed my life with those whom I let down, instead of fighting back to protect myself. Mom couldn't flee from dad because she conceived an unwanted child. That's me. When she told me in the mist of long discord with dad, I thought I should've never been born.
I told the counselor this far, and from now, there's a story that I can never write in Korean.
Selfhood starts from his or her first memory. Babies're already human beings, but they don't start their journey yet. When they can recall a memory consciously, it's time for them to figure out who they are and who they aren't. My journey started from darkness. The memory was too strong and sticky to tear off. Whenever thinking 'who I am', I can’t but recall the darkness and smell under the blanket.
My first memory is sexual abuse. He called me to come every morning for a few days during the holiday season. It happened in a room in front of the kitchen. Mom and aunts were busy walking around me to prepare holiday breakfast, but they didn't even care while I was almost raped under the blanket in the same room. I remember hearing the footsteps around me when it happened. He didn't set me free until he got satisfied. I was four or five years old in Korean age. A small and easy toy for an adult man, and just an irritating obstacle for busy women. I was nobody.
It took more than 15 years to learn that it was violence, and sexual abuse is not the victim's responsibility. In other words, I spent 15 years in shame and guiltiness thinking I was wrong, dirty, and unforgivable. I blamed myself for 'staying alive.' I couldn't tell anyone about what had happened to me. Many questions should also be buried unasked.
Time doesn't cure anything. All the senses and memories of the days have become a part of my body and personality. I couldn't separate myself from what he'd done to me. Literally, there's a trace of the abuse on my body. If I want to remove it, I have to cut off my flesh. If all the traces in my body and soul could be erased, well, I would do that and even more than that. Cure? Easy to talk, but impossible. The traces will live in me till I die.
In the meantime, I still survive. I survive not only from suicide, but also from sexual abuse, hurting myself like the counselor mentioned. Now, what should I do?
I don’t believe in God, but He must have created you with a good purpose.
How cruel it is! I don’t want to be someone else’s purpose... sick of being a tool or purpose or... anything. They all know that I will do whatever not to let them down.
For a while, she calmly stared at me yelling and crying.
Then just stop throwing stones to yourself... to begin with.
I don't even understand what it meant. All I need is rest with the eyes closed. I’ve been walking with this burden on the journey for too long. I’m tired.
