The Blame Game

Sometimes I feel guilty for having PTSD because I know a lot of people would have gone through an assault like mine unfazed.  So why has it affected every aspect of my life for the last 11 years so much?  What's wrong with me?

What's wrong with me is that I see too much wrong with me.  I can forgive others for almost anything, but I can never forgive myself.

When I was seven years old, my mom was robbed and beaten in front of a convenience store while I sat in the car.  My parents and I pulled up to the store and agreed that she would run inside to get what we needed while my dad and I sat in the car outside.  There were two men standing at a pay phone by the entrance, and I watched them and felt in my gut that they were suspicious.  But I didn't say anything, and on her way out of the store, the two men attacked my mom on the passenger side of the car, beat and kicked her, and stole her wallet.  It happened so fast, my dad couldn't even get around the car to my mom before they were running off.  Granted, it was the 1980's and our car was as big as a Cold War Russian tank, but that's neither here nor there.

I've thought about this incident a lot over the years and every time I revisit it, I punish myself a little more for not saying anything.  I know that if I had simply said, "Daddy, those guys look a little suspicious," then he would have gotten out of the car and escorted my mom out.  Maybe they still would have attacked her, and hurt BOTH of my parents instead (or maybe worse).  But I hate myself for doing nothing.

I forgave the two men long ago.  It was the right thing to do.  (My mother forgave them too.)  What I have never been able to do is forgive myself.  But at the same time, how can I have compassion for the criminals but hold myself as unforgivable when I was only a 7 year old child?  Why do I have such a high standard for myself from which I can't free myself?  I don't know, I haven't resolved this yet.

I'm still very much that little girl now, 25 years later.  I rarely think about the man who assaulted me 11 years ago-- why waste the brain cells and energy on him?  Unfortunately, I do dwell on what I consider to be MY fault: I didn't report it, I didn't seek help, I haven't been strong enough to overcome the initial terrible therapy experience to get proper counseling, I can't control my reactions to triggering events, and so forth.

At times it feels like swimming in water against the current.  You can see the destination ahead, and you know that there's a a path to swim there without fighting the current, but you can't bring yourself to do the healthier, safer option.  Logically, I know I'm not at fault for my mom being robbed or for me being assaulted.  Those truths are the destination that I can clearly see ahead of me, but I just can't bring myself to get out of that strong, opposing current to get there.