Knowledge Is My Armour
A significant amount of damage during my traumatic experience was caused by the not knowing. There was much deception involved; few outright lies but much deceit. The withholding of important details and information that would have spared me a great deal of shock and feeling of humiliation had I simply been informed and presented with a full, clear picture from the outset.
I knew something was up fairly quickly. I might have been naive but I was never stupid. It was obvious. Reassurances were offered and I trusted them, pushing aside the niggling little instinct inside me that kept nudging me telling me something was off. I quelled my gut instincts because I trusted what I had been told. I had no reason not to. Besides, I was enthralled.
With an increasing frequency incidents would occur that would make me look twice. Sometimes little things like an odd phone call. Other times, bigger things… My instincts would yell at me to pay attention, that something wasn’t right. My heart fluttered. My stomach twisted. My mind began to desperately try to figure out what was going on. And I was deeply wounded, each and every time. Emotionally of course but sometimes I swear to you it’s impact was as if it was a physical blow
As I continued to be kept in the dark a hot, desperate, wild need to know the truth formed within me. It ate away at me. I was hurting terribly. I couldn’t ignore it any more. I began to seek out the truth for myself.
I began looking through phones and messages, through notebooks and letters. …Anything that might give me answers. I’m not proud of this. I am intensely ashamed of it in fact. I class it amongst the ‘bad things’ I did (which is an oversimplified term I use for want of anything more apt).
“Truth will out” so they say.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the facts became apparent. Painfully, like drawing blood from a stone and with much kicking and screaming, over the years (not days weeks or months understand. Years) titibits and chunks emerged. There was no epiphany or moment of enlightenment. There was no big moment whereby all was revealed. Titbits would come out but the deception continued. I began gathering the pieces of the puzzle but still had no clear picture
I was twentyone at the time all of this began. Now at thirty one I realise just how very very young that was, though I didn’t think so at the time of course. I never expected to be faced with these kinds of issues at that age. I found it shocking. The continuous not knowing, or even, the beginning to think I now knew only to find repeatedly that there was something else was tremendously unsettling. I wouldnt class it as gaslighting as such, but it wasn’t far off.
The shock of each revelation as they unfolded over time was jarring. I was left reeling after each and every one. But the really unsettling thing was that each time I would trust that that was it. That I had now been for fully informed. This was the deal and there was nothing more. I would process this information and begin to move on from it, become complacent even, and then BAM! Something else, some new, and I’d be completely and utterly blindsided. Shocked and humiliated too; I felt like a fool. Like everybody knew but me and that I was being laughed at behind my back. I could hear the sniggers. See the snears
Knowledge became my armour. The more I knew the less I could be taken off guard. I couldn’t be shocked if I already knew. Couldn’t be fooled if I already knew. Knowledge was my protection. My weapon too. I scoured the internet for literal hours with every possible word combination in Google. I Facebook stalked to the extreme. I knew all of the tricks. I developed sniper like abilities to search through a phone at every brief opportunity. I feasted and relished upon each and every crumb of information I found, no matter how minescule or petty. I became a scavenger. I was obsessed.
And God was I hurting
Knowledge was my shield and my sword and my armour and my steed. I stocked up that mental armoury as the years passed until it seemed to became full to the brim. And yet I still To this day don’t entirely believe there isn’t more information to be found. Another thing I don’t know. Although the burning drive for information no longer rules me and I feel reasonably comfortable with how well stocked my ‘armoury’ is, the compulsion to discover ever more continues to simmer beneath the surface. I have a yearning for answers, but I no longer know what other questions there can be.
I cannot let go of my armoury; my only means of defence. Knowledge helps me feel safe
I’m paranoid about being kept in the dark about important things. Paranoid about being deceived. I am terrified of being blindsided again. I am terrified that one day when my guard is down there’ll be some other revelation that floors me. I’m terrfied of letting go of my armoury of knowledge and I’ll be defenceless when I’m inevitably ‘attacked’. I’m perpetually on edge, waiting for it
In short, I am simply terrified.