Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Blueberries and Cyanide- A Rant.

Some days, I think you worse than my almost rape.
Some days, I find I can forgive a boy with an over active imagination and sex drive- over a man with a penchant for fucking the mind without a rubber.

There's no question that you planted a seed. Metaphorically speaking. Everyone would expect you to. You were a therapist, and I took the risk of blurring the boundary. Daring to call you a friend. Daring to trust you outside the safe zone where a payment is a promise that you won't be hurt.

Or is it? Just how many people have you hurt behind your mask? And gotten paid to do it?

Dual relationships of any kind are dangerous, but yours was a special kind of sick. You took the lack of daddy issues in a young woman and perverted them. You made me feel like loving my own father was a crime. My father, a man who never so much as blinked violence at me, became a temporary monster...all because you couldn't handle your relationship with your own.

After all the lies that have come out of your mouth, I don't care any more. I don't believe you ever were a victim. But I believe you make false ones everywhere. I believe you turn healthy people away from important relationships to make them codependent upon you, and that's how you get your fix. You say your daddy fucked you? Even if that is true, take a good goddamn hard look at yourself. Whether you penetrate with a penis or a twisted mind, you're no better. You are no better. The rapist lives on in your genes and you feed him every day with your narcissistic lies.

No. You're far worse than my would-be rapist.
Because unlike him, you won't grow out of your sick ways. You've fertilized them for nearly sixty years. You'll just rationalize it all away.

You penetrate the minds and soul wombs of those already raped empty, and you fill them with hope and paranoia and a world of paradox they will never escape. You shatter trust like the hymens of prepubescent girls. And you don't care. You won't answer to it. You're too much of a coward, too much of a sociopath, too much of a monster, to ever know the word redemption.

You couldn't even show your face at a fucking hearing.
I hate you. I hate that I ever trusted you with anything. I hate that I'll always mistrust myself because your bullshit only reaffirms that I get myself into these situations.

You owe me so many apologies. I'll never hear a single one.
There is no justification for your mind games.
No reason to plant false memories.
No fucking point to shredding another's sanity with your manipulative banter.
You belong in jail.
Not for wielding a dick or a knife- for wielding pure evil.
Maybe someday you'll finally end up there. Where all the evil goes.
For the kind of mental abuse no one ever talks about.
 You are the monster you claim you fear.
Too bad you're such a lousy actor when it comes to looking fearful about it.
Who knows how many people you've fed that line to?
Just to get a paycheck and a narcissistic fix.
Yes, it's healers like you that make me believe in lobotomies.
Fortunately for me, I knew better than to swallow your cyanide laced "blueberries".
But I can still hurt from the offer.