Letting Go

I'm about to write a post I never would have even considered writing three years ago. But here goes.

One of the most painful, horrible, unbearable parts of dealing with the aftermath of sibling abuse is carrying around the all-consuming rage that burns in your soul and permeates through every aspect of your being. Where does this rage come from? The simple answer is that is stems from years of having been tortured and traumatized by siblings. But it's actually an agglomeration of things. My rage was a combination of the anger, resentment, frustration, helplessness, humiliation and indignation inflicted upon me after countless encounters of my siblings abusing me and my parents dismissing and neglecting me.

I could never give you a full picture of what I went through. All I can do is convey the following snapshot: I spent many, many nights in my room doing various activities to "work through" my anger, like screaming into pillows, biting things, punching things, clenching my teeth, tearing things into bits. Anything to release a valve on the pent-up energy constantly threatening to explode somewhere, anywhere. I cried many times, too. I felt helpless and alone and constantly found myself thinking that I desperately needed help. But help was nowhere to be found. Nearly every day, I would walk around in an angry cloud, appearing normal on the outside, but feeling the rage underneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

I'd heard about "forgiveness"--pardoning someone for what they've done wrong. But that idea never seemed right to me. How can I look at the evidence, the piles upon piles of mental testimony I've collected, and say that the aggressor is..."forgiven?" How is that a good thing? Isn't that just enabling?

Well, I haven't reached a final answer to that question. I don't know if I'll ever truly "forgive." But I have dealt more and more with something I'm calling "letting go."

Letting go means taking the anger stored inside you, and....letting go of it. It means telling yourself, "I have decided to release my anger. I am no longer going to carry it with me. It has burned a hole in my heart, and I no longer welcome it. It doesn't have a home inside me anymore."

But wait a minute! Isn't that repression?

Not quite. Repression is denying your feelings. Letting go is acknowledging your feelings, and then releasing them. It is, in a way, moving on. It is staying in the present and absorbing all the energy from the present moment, rather than letting past energy consume you.

And it deals with yourself, and yourself only. Not the other person who hurt you. They don't even have to know you've "moved on" or "let go." The sibling I'm thinking about--the one I cut out of my life--has no idea I'm writing this post, or that I'm in the process of letting go, or anything like that.

Letting go is a process I struggle with. Even just now, I had an anger episode when I started thinking about my family. But whenever I do manage to "let go," it is the best gift I can give myself. I feel so at peace that day, after I've let go of my anger. I feel in control, and not taken down by my resentment.

And one more thing. Letting go does not mean no longer fighting for justice. It is okay to do the things you feel you must do to hold the guilty party (or parties) accountable (i.e., the aforementioned sibling who is still cut out of my life). Letting go does not make you weak. It puts you at peace, grants you control over your life, and makes you emotionally and physically healthier.

So try to let go today.