&#&%! (aka: the pathetic, useless righteous indignation of a bad little “good girl”)

&$^% the system! $#&^%!  What purpose did it serve?

What had the police done when she was 11 years old and her mother had beaten her with the buckle end of a belt until she bled?  The scabs thrashed up and down her back end from her lower back to her ankles for three weeks afterward wasn’t enough proof that she had been beaten…

What had the justice system done when she was 19 and her ex boyfriend violently raped and beat her because she was trying to leave?  The medical personnel claimed her “injuries matched perfectly with her story”.  The detective claimed he believed every word she said.  The man’s ex girlfriend even came forward and reminded the police that he had once done the same thing to her when she’d wanted to leave.  Sorry… The prosecuting attorney decided regardless of the evidence, cases of acquaintance rape were just “too hard to prove in court”.  The bruises in the distinct shape of four fingers on both sides of her neck were consensual?   The rest of the scrapes, bruises and abrasions over her body from being dragged around were typical of consensual sex?  No, they were just “too hard to prove in court”…

What had the police done when her ex husband was high on drugs and had been drinking excessively?  They pulled him over for doing 45 miles around a street corner and then let him go because he claimed he was just “really upset about 9/11.”

What had they done when the neighbor called them when her husband had beaten her face black and blue?  They chauffeured him to his brother’s house to keep the “two apart for the evening.”

What had the police done when she was mugged and raped at gunpoint in the baseball field next to her house?  They had sat in the parking lot of that park for 3 hours “waiting for the neighboring community to deliver their canine unit” so they could go look for the guy who was running on foot.

What had the police done for the past two years when he drove falling down drunk to her house at least 200 separate times to tell her lies and manipulate her?  Nothing.  Not a thing.  After all, he was an upstanding member of the community, not to mention an excellent liar…  What would they ever want to do about that and why would they bother?

She knew being angry didn’t help anything or make anything a bit better?  It only created ugly anger and pain inside her.  It did nothing else.  But her righteous indignation was choking her as she suppressed it, telling herself that feeling anger just made her life more difficult and didn’t change anything anyway.  Still, it was difficult  at this point to not feel angry.  It had been difficult for some time, but she clenched tightly to her beliefs and continued telling herself anger just begets anger.  It’s useless and serves no purpose except to possibly do more damage.

No, no one ever said life was going to be fair.  She easily remembered her mother repeatedly telling her that as a child. “Well, life just isn’t fair.  Get over it.  The sooner you accept that and learn to just sit quietly no matter what’s being done to you, the sooner you’ll feel better.”  How true….  how very, very true.  Keeping quiet and being a “good girl” never once stopped anything from happening, but it had kept her from getting in more trouble for being noisy and complaining.  “Just be a  good girl and take your knocks as they come.  Don’t cry like a baby.  Don’t get angry and stomp around like you’ve the right to be treated as a human being.  Don’t whine and complain.  That will only get you in more trouble.  Just shut up and smile sweetly like it doesn’t hurt and it will be over faster.  Otherwise, you’re only hurting yourself more…”  Blah, blah, blah!

And in some twisted sort of way, that ingrained theory was what kept her feeling victimized.  Well, not just feeling victimized, but victimized.  The quiet child is always an easy target.  What are they going to do about anything?  Yet still, even as an adult, standing up for herself and for what she believed was right, had only  served to get her in trouble, no one else.  It had never brought justice to the circumstances.  It had never protected her or defended her or prevented things from happening again. 

What do you do when you’re not allowed to get angry?  When that just makes you a person struggling to demand what you’re never going to get.  Something that somehow, by curse or birth-right just wasn’t yours to ever have?  It’s difficult to remain a faithful, quiet good girl for thirty years, as the world seems to just tromp all over you more because you’re such a good girl.  Still, getting angry resolves nothing.  Changes nothing.  So it sits in there simmering and stewing, until it turns back against her and results in self-hatred and depression.

Don’t pray for her.  She gets what she deserves.  She’s just a pseudo human being and pissed off because that’s her lot in life.  Just ignore her unless she serves a purpose for you.  She’ll get over it or die unhappy.

Anger.  Was it her friend?  Was it time?  Had she earned the right yet?  Would it even help at this point?  Would it only create more hatred and bitterness in her life?  The law of attraction says so.  At what point is there any other choice?  When anger-turned-depression becomes consuming and so cycle-perpetuating, what the heck else is there?

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