I got the call today that my court date will never happen. My complaint didn’t have enough strength to hold up a conviction. The Crown prosecutor will not pick up my case. When it comes down to it, it is my word versus his word. Nobody else is willing to step up to the plate; so as a result, he is a free man. However, I am not. The evidence that was presented will now be burned up in a furnace somewhere while I am left with the memories that I hope will fade with age.
I can’t help but feel failed by a system that is seemingly programmed to re-victimize abuse victims. My father had not contacted me for well over 2 years (after I had asked the police to intervene) and then all of a sudden, I get a letter from him. Did they contact him first to let him know he is a free man? Free enough to send me a letter? Why wasn’t I contacted? Why didn’t I get the memo? Instead, I got a call from my victim’s services representative who was shocked that I didn’t hear anything from the department who had my complaint.
There are many ways I could deal with this. I could be bitter and place blame on everyone involved with my case. I could be angry with my “friend” who wouldn’t step up when the police called for a statement. I could be deeply hurt by my mother who wouldn’t come to my rescue and made it known that I had her support. I could be resentful of those who do get their day in court. I could be filled with hate. But I am not, I won’t allow myself to be. I am the only one in control of my reaction to this. As I have all these years, I will change and I will grow. It is the only thing I can do.
But I am hurt. I feel embarrassed. I feel like a fool. I feel let down.
What I am feeling now is a failure. For the first time in my life, I have failed big. Really big! I stepped up and told every dark secret of my past to a complete stranger in hopes that I could help others and I have failed. I gave it my all, I did my best, I told them everything I knew, but time was my enemy; I waited too long to talk. Had I spoke out 20 years ago, I am sure the outcome would have been different. But now, time will bury the truth and now I must accept that.
I can hear it now “if the system doesn’t believe him, then why should I?”. To the rest of world, I am just a complainer, a whiner and an asshole who won’t allow his parents to see their only grandchild. I am the fucker who upset the apple cart. I am the one desecrating the family name. I have nothing but my poisonous memories but now the world will never see them. To them, I must bury the hatchet and go on with life and do what a good son must do.
Why should you believe me?
I don’t know the answer to that question, that is up to you to decide. I can only hope that those who have been with me through the thick… will now be there through the thin.
I really need you right now. Please, Don’t let me down.
My resolve is still the same as it was 8 years ago, I will die protecting my son from the monsters of the world. Even if I have to do this alone, my mission is critical. I will continue to lead an honest and transparent life so that I never have to worry about a trail of lies that rest in my shadow. I am not programmed to deceive as I don’t see the upside to a lie but I have paid dearly exposing the truth. Since coming forward with my abuse. I’ve lost my parents, I’ve lost my family, I’ve lost friends, I’ve lost my dignity, I’ve lost trust, I’ve lost time and I’ve lost my sanity. But somewhere in the mess, I found myself and I found my purpose.
Now that the dust cloud has settled, I will now see who really believes in me.
I believe in me.