Madcap Hilarity

Note: I find this a difficult blog to post. It’s taken me a while to work up the nerve to hit the Publish button. There are some things that I just don’t talk about freely, and if the following post feels vague in some details, that’s why. The Yarn Harlot (see her link in the sidebar) has posted about her general guidelines for online etiquette: if you wouldn’t say something to someone’s face in his or her own living room, then don’t post it in his or her web space. That strikes me as a really good way to function on the web in general. This post is full of emotion for me, and there are places where I say things that I generally wouldn’t say to anyone’s face in any space, but as I have actually already communicated much of this to the parties in question, I suppose I haven’t entirely broken that rule. And yes, I’m fine. Or, you know, I will be.

***

I did something hard yesterday.

You know that phrase, ‘If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all’?

I could rephrase it, ‘If I only have something nasty, unpleasant, or generally complicated and uncomfortable to say, I talk about my kids.’

I’m not very good with confrontation, especially if the confrontation is pointless. So I generally deflect, attempting to steer the conversation away from needless aggravation or irritation, mainly to save myself the stress of a potentially sticky conversation. You might say this is dishonest. You might say it’s tactful. Suit yourself. It’s just the way I am.

But sometimes, I can’t let the confrontation go by. I can’t let a comment pass, even when I know that what I have to say is going to hurt someone’s feelings or make someone mad or even cause someone not to speak to me. Even so, it still is very very difficult for me.

Yesterday, someone in my extended family, referring to a really horrifying set of life events, cast them, as a group as “nutty crazy things of the past”—(today it still makes me mad and my hands are shaking as I type them)—and suggest that We Just Forget About Them and try to find some way to Comfort the Agent of those events.

I couldn’t take that one. Frankly, I find it a stupid thing to say. Not the forgetting part, so much as the “nutty” part. Insensitive and selfish and shortsighted.

I will be the first person to say that we should not dwell in the past, but live fully in the present moment. But I also believe that we cannot deny the manner in which all things that we have experienced in the past have shaped the person we are today—good and bad, for better or worse. When those oh-so-hilarious abuses of the past continue to have damaging repercussions in the present of people that I love, I cannot stand by while someone with an important role in making future decisions dismisses that pain and horror.

I wrote back and really unloaded. That was the hard thing. I was, quite frankly, surprised at the vehemence of my reaction. I’ve been very middle-of-the road in my stance toward the whole situation. But when I had put down all the words, I was even more angry at what he thinks I owe him, at what he thinks we all owe the Agent. What I said will likely have challenging and complicated repercussions in my extended family. Or maybe it won’t. But I’m tired of people Forgetting. Forgetting that some crimes have more than one victim. That a single heinous act might be accompanied by others, less published, less punishable. And that although I respect the humanity of all people, I do not necessarily wish to participate in the Comfort of someone who has harmed people I love. Particularly someone who has never indicated any remorse, any desire for reconciliation, or offered any Comfort to those harmed by her actions.

I don’t want anything from the family member who used these words, and I don’t want those of us who were victimized to continue to be considered Victims, but the more I think about it, the more mad I get. What Comfort has he ever offered Us, and yet he asks us to come and Comfort the Agent, to Forget what she has done.

Note, that he does not ask us to Forgive her, only to Comfort her, by forgetting what she has done, by dismissing her actions as not worth remembering. The request to forget doesn’t seem to be spiritual in nature, though I might be able to respect it more if it had been. I know that this type of caring and forgiveness can be healthy, but there is a reason that is is rarely witnessed among mere mortals.

The worst part for me, is that his dismissive phrase feels like it has undone progress I had made toward an internal reconciliation of those things he dismisses. That really pisses me off.

Comments

[Ileana]

I feel sick to my stomach for you. Outraged. How dare someone negate the gravity of this situation! It's as if by describing it so lightly, they can can pretend it never happened. If they want to lie to themselves, that's their problem but how dare they lie to you. And then they advise you on what you should do?! And then their advice is that you should comfort the Agent?! Here's where I maybe cross the line but out of all of your choices, I don't know that comfort is top on the list. To comfort them when they are the cause? No way.

Mostly I'm sorry as well that they made this comment with no care for you at all. They didn't care about where you are in your own journey of dealing with this. They didn't care about what might be best for you. They're just on their own agenda. And I'm sorry that they've undone your progress and upset you so much.

Much love to you. :)