2 years 4 months and 13 days ago I thought my husband (now ex) of 20 years was just a miserable controlling jerk that lived off of my constant sorrow and depression. I knew his level of hypocrisy was seemingly immeasurable and unknown...he constantly surprised me on a daily basis as to what new low he could sink too....but I preferred to desperately believe there was a point into which he couldnt go any lower. In other words...I gave him the benefit of the doubt...even when my heart was crushed...even when my mind was in turmoil...even when my soul was bereft and on the verge of hopelessness ...I continued to have hope that eventually he would bottom out and the only way to go was up. All the fool me for assuming that every human being on the planet has some redeeming qualities...its just a little harder to see in some people than others.
Now heres the strange thing...the part that doesnt add up, at least in my mind. The two personalities that lived within one body. There was the controlling abusive hypocritical Muslim wannabe on one hand and the often funny hard working (when he chose to work) get us whatever we wanted, take care of us when we were sick good with the kids father/husband on the other.
Oh yeah, then there was the pedophile rapist...so I guess that makes 3 personalities in one body. The first 2 I lived with on a daily basis...never knew from moment to moment which one was going to make a showing and either let me relax for 5 minutes...or get me all worked up frustrated and angry again. The third personality...well...I never knew it existed. Didnt have a clue. I have retraced 20 years of marriage. I have gone over memories with a fine tooth comb...looked for hints, clues, flashing neon signs...anything that would make this soul crushing guilt Ive been feeling since my daughter whispered those two little words 2 years 4 months and 13 days ago....alleviate it in some small way....but...nothing.
Hindsight is 20/20 as they say. We look back and smack our foreheads and berate ourselves for what we didnt see then but is so goddamn obvious now...our ability to remain blind while surrounded by facts...but as they say...sometimes you have to step back to see the big picture. So I step back...again and again...every time I close my eyes I step back...and I search, I probe, I rehash and re account every little detail of this marriage from the time my first child...my first born...my first daughter was brought into this world. I search desperately looking for the exact moment in time when that man, my husband, her father, made the horrific and disgusting decision to take from his daughter what he had no right to take. I tear apart every moment of interaction between them looking for that sign...that little clue that all was not right between them. I listen to my daughters voices (I have two daughters and yes...both were victims) and try and hear cries for help...I try and pick out phrases and clues that were calling me...trying to get me to open my eyes and SEE....to open my ears and HEAR...but apparently I was so self involved with my own miseries that I couldnt hear my childrens silent pleas for rescue...and for that the guilt rages on. I was firmly convinced that he was a jerk as a husband...but a fairly decent father..the thought that he could possibly sink so low as to do what most animals in the animal kingdom dont even engage in was something that never even snuck in the backdoor of my mind...I guess you had to be there...sigh.
People who hear of such things (barely able to utter the word incest much less acknowledge it in this part of the world) always ask two things...what was I doing when this was happening....and why didnt the girls say something sooner. So in one fell swoop blame is placed on us...I wasnt being a good mother and they were accomplices rather than victims in this heinous crime. Its enough that I blame myself...I dont need all and sundry to chime in too...but the fact that my daughters are meant to share the blame for and seen as co conspirators in this crime against them has to be viewed as raping them all over again. They are being violated over and over again...their bodies gone over with a probing tongues...every minute part of their behavior scrutinized and picked apart...from what they wore to how they spoke when in the company of their father. It matters little that they were toddlers when he started his "special relationship" (his words, not mine) with them and that by the time they were old enough to "know better" his behavior had become "normal"...the sort of thing that daddies that "really love their daughters in a special way" do to show it. In other words, it was as "natural" a daddy behavior as say...taking them to the doctor when their sick...or buying them new shoes etc when they need them...it was his way of "loving" them and being a "good" daddy.
Only a victim of incest, of pedophilia can know the depths of the psychological reconstruction that goes on from day one...the total mind altering choreography that turns a normal daddy/daughter relationship into something dark and secretive...nobody knows the constant guilt and tennis game that goes on in a childs mind...he is my daddy...I love him....he is my daddy...I wish he would die. I know....Ive been there.
Sometimes I lay there and try and blank my mind...try and erase these disgusting heinous "videos" that replay over and over again from my memories...I try and "go back" to a time when I didnt know how truly low he could go....just an asshole...but believing there were hidden redeeming qualities in there somewhere....but I cant...once we know or learn something...we cant unlearn it.
I learned my husband of 20 years was a incestuous pedophile...and that you can never go back and wish that "you didnt know now what you didnt know then."
Of course...if I didnt know...if I had never found out...my children would no doubt still be suffering from it...so should I focus on the silver lining or what?