This hit me like a ton of bricks. Reminds me of a conversation I had with my now estranged father. I finally confronted him about the years of physical and emotional abuse we all endured at his hands and to my genuine surprise he acted like he didn’t know what i was taking about. He said “sure I have a temper, who doesn’t” and “you need to get over it.”

I guess I was naively thinking he’d have a moment of clarity, feel genuine remorse, apologize profusely, ask for forgiveness, and I would forgive him so we could have the relationship I’ve always been starved for. We’d hug and maybe shed some tears. But instead he did what he always does. Minimize his responsibility for fucking me up. Put it back on me to just get over it.

I have endured years of being maladjusted, antisocial, and anxious. I struggled with a terrible temper for years. I have a hard time trusting, especially males, and lots of other shit too numerous to list. I’m in therapy and I deal with the aftermath of abuse on a daily basis. I remember the trauma every day because there is always something that reminds me. My constant companion. My invisible scars.

The axe forgets.