Jimmy, I never forgot what you did to me.

Jimmy, I never forgot what you did to me.
i-m-Bri

i-m-Bri

***TRIGGERS***

@C.E. (Chase Eric) suggested in a reply to to his post Finding the hate in my heart that I write to Jimmy. He’s dead. I want to put it out in the universe. I don’t want to derail Chase’s post. I just want to say these things.


Jimmy,

I never had the balls to tell you I never forgot what you did to me. I don’t know if you do. But you jumped me from the tree in front of Central School. You pinned me and rubbed your fucking dick in my face. In front of all the other kids. In front of Terri!

Why didn’t I ever tell you?
I was ashamed of not just “losing” but being ashamed of the shame. I couldn’t stand the idea of you knowing how much it hurt me. How much it damaged me. How much it changed my life. To let you know would have been more vulnerable than I ever wanted to be near you.

And it was selfish. Because long after I understood all you were doing was repeating something that was done to you, I stayed silent. And even after I called myself on being gleeful at your repeated downfalls, I didn’t think of reaching out to you.

And I regret it. I am sorry I didn’t let you know I forgave you. I forgive you Jimmy. I don’t know who did what to you. But I know you aren’t a psychopath who figured that out on your own. I am so sorry your life was as hard as it was. None of it was necessary. No one deserves whatever it was, not even the boy I tried to hate for too long.

I sincerely hope you are at peace now.

Brian
 
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BDD said:
***TRIGGERS***

@C.E. (Chase Eric) suggested in a reply to to his post Finding the hate in my heart that I write to Jimmy. He’s dead. I want to put it out in the universe. I don’t want to derail Chase’s post. I just want to say these things.


Jimmy,

I never had the balls to tell you I never forgot what you did to me. I don’t know if you do. But you jumped me from the tree in front of Central School. You pinned me and rubbed your fucking dick in my face. In front of all the other kids. In front of Terri!

Why didn’t I ever tell you?
I was ashamed of not just “losing” but being ashamed of the shame. I couldn’t stand the idea of you knowing how much it hurt me. How much it damaged me. How much it changed my life. To let you know would have been more vulnerable than I ever wanted to be near you.

And it was selfish. Because long after I understood all you were doing was repeating something that was done to you, I stayed silent. And even after I called myself on being gleeful at your repeated downfalls, I didn’t think of reaching out to you.

And I regret it. I am sorry I didn’t let you know I forgave you. I forgive you Jimmy. I don’t know who did what to you. But I know you aren’t a psychopath who figured that out on your own. I am so sorry your life was as hard as it was. None of it was necessary. No one deserves whatever it was, not even the boy I tried to hate for too long.

I sincerely hope you are at peace now.

Brian
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Brian, much respect. Guts. I hope that letter released a weight from you. You have a very healthy view of Jimmy. My T talks about when we "split" when thinking of ourselves or others. As kids it's normal to think that way: people like Jimmy are either all good, or all bad. But a healthy, mature, adult view is seeing the Jimmy's as not one or the other, but both.
 
That post really touched me. Can't even imagine what strength you must have to find forgivness in your heart. I have thought from time to time that maybe something similar happened to my abuser to make him do what he did to me. But I never admit to myself that he is also probably victim and he didn't deserve what happened to him. So thank you for making me see the things from a different angle.
 
Deep and important conversation. Thanks for sharing this letter Bri. When you had that exchange on Chase Eric's thread I was thinking of the later events, not this one. But this makes sense as you write about it... a couple of kids only capable of doing what they'd learned to do... and creating a legacy of shame and confusion that we then must live with... until we unpack it and release what we can... Respect.
 
This letter by far shows who was the better man. Your abuser and mine show that our perpetrators can lead a tougher life than their victims. And like I did with my molester who also died, you survived this guy. Twice.
 
Guys, those who know me, know I post a lot. But I have been taken back by this one.

While I was writing this letter my brother texted me. We are estranged. He wrote to thank me for a birthday greeting. It’s important because he’s the one who told me Jimmy died (before him and I fought). That was 7 years ago. That phone call was strange.

When he told me, I went silent. It went longer than either of us were comfortable. We both started to speak at the same time. I was about to talk about the assault. Before I even said enough words for my brother to know what I was going to bring up he said “You don’t need to tell me”.

That has lingered these 7 years, on pause. Did he mean:

A. He knows what happened (It was NEVER discussed) and doesn’t need to hear it.

B. Did he mean it in the sense that he knew what a creep Jimmy was.?

C. Did he mean it in the Dennis family sense of “we don’t want to know”?

I almost called my brother this week to tell him what I was in the middle of. But didn’t. If I did, he would take it as me forgiving him for threatening to “Rip my Husband a new one”. My husband knows he’s lurking around, trying to get on the families good side. And my husband, justifiably wants an apology that my brother refuses to give.

But what about me? When we were kids my brother said one thing that I thought indicated he knew. He was talking about Jimmy being a monkey, and if he gets on you there is no getting him off. At the time I took it as confirmation that he knew and was telling me no one could have won against him.

This may not be making any sense until you understand I grew up believing the assault was an open secret. I believed they were so ashamed of me, they couldn’t bring themselves to even mention it.

I know I am going on, but I am tired of the headache and being quasi numb. I think I know I need to talk to my brother. Or write at least.
 
I'm here for you, Bri. Please reach out if you need to talk.
 
I slept so well last night. I actually checked my email less than normal. He has not yet responded. Could be any number of reasons, the content, our estranged relationship right now (but he's been looking for a way back into my good grace), my email could have landed in his spam. I am unsure if I will follow up with a check-in text. I will let it all sit for a few days.

I am surprisingly at peace. But than why should I be surprised, I am not guarding it any more. I am free. @C. E. (Chase Eric) thank you for the offer. And @Toad Thank you too.

I would like to share the letter here, just so it is read by someone:

Bob,

Something has been haunting me for 7 years. When you called to tell me Jimmy Davies died, I went silent. Just as I started to speak you said “You don’t need to tell me”.

But I need to know what you meant.

For any of this to make sense, I need you to know what I started to say that day. I grew up believing what Jimmy did to me was an open secret. I lived on pins and needles dreading Mom or Dad would mention it. And though they never did, I interpreted so many of their comments and actions as being driven by their deep shame of me. I withdrew from the family long before anyone noticed.

When I was in kindergarten Jimmy assaulted me. It was in the front-yard of Central school. We were waiting for the bus. Kids were playing. Terri (my twin sister) was near the building talking to a friend. I stood under the (apple?) tree. It was a well worn spot. Rock hard dirt from so many kids, and roots sprawling out.

I didn’t know he was in the tree on a branch above me. When he jumped on my back I was instantly on the ground, face down and in shock. From his laugh I figured out who he was. I managed to turn around. When I was facing him, he dug his boney butt into me. I tried to thrust him off with my pelvis (I didn’t know to use my legs and clamp him). When I was exhausted he opened his fly, pulled it out and demanded I put it in my mouth. When I refused he rubbed it in my face. Each time I turned to get my face away my I saw kids, then Terri then more kids, then Terri. Mrs Jeffers (a school teacher & friend of my mother's) came down the steps and he ran off.

No one said a word to me. No one came over to me. I stood there ostracized at a level that is hard to express. The instant isolation killed huge parts of me. The shame of Terri witnessing it destroyed my prized role as her protector. The feeling of being a fraud attacked my standing as a boy. It was head splitting to know physically I was a boy, something I really wanted to be. While at the same time knowing I really wasn’t. Jimmy proved it.

I believed Terri and or Mrs Jeffers told Mom. When you believe something, “proof” can be found all around. I heard hints of it in comments. I saw it in how dad smiled at Terri but not me. It was toxic, I understood simple encouraging phrases such as “Come On” to be expressions of exacerbation, disgust.

At one point you made a comment about Jimmy being a monkey. You said no one could ever get off their backs if he attacked. Though you said it years after the event, I held on to that as recognition that you knew. I tried to let it absolve me, but the rot of my shame was fully ingrained.

So I need to know if you knew. I spoke with Terri a few years ago. She doesn’t remember anything. Maybe she couldn’t see from where she was.

Why now? I recently read about a man who sought out a person who abused him, and they talked about it. It brought up a ton of regret in me. He suggested I write Jimmy a letter. While I was scratching it out on Monday, you texted. That seemed like a sign.

By the time Jimmy died, I had worked through hating him. I no longer believed he was a psychopath. He wasn’t a monster. Kids don’t just do what he did, he learned it somewhere. Finding compassion for him (and me) gave me the peace of forgiveness. I am so sorry his life was as hard as it was. He didn’t stand a chance. I wish I would have been big enough to reach out to him, but I never even considered it. And now it’s too late and I regret it.

But I can’t let this door shut with so many unanswered questions. So I am asking you, what do you know about Jimmy? I am afraid to know and scared to never have asked.

Thank you,
 
Thanks for sharing that. I have come to a similar conclusion about my abuser. We often know little about half or more of the equation we involved with - and some of those blank spaces of unknowns we fill with the pretty lies we can live with. We don't know they are lies - and in fact we are convinced they are truths. And that's not wrong - it is just how we survive it all. But when we reach out as you are doing, those lies and the perspectives we've had may change.

Finding my abuser later in life and having those conversations really opened my eyes to the impossible mess I was mixed up in. I didn't stand a chance. But it helped knowing that and all the other things I discovered in our conversations. I'm sorry you cannot have similar discussions - but your open-mindedness is good - and that will serve you much better than just anger. I'm glad you are reaching out to your brother. It will be very interesting to see the blanks he fills for you.

BTW, I reached out to my baby sister (unlike your brother, I knew she was a co-victim) and she didn't care to talk about it. I respected that. For ten years. Until one night we were talking and suddenly the floodgates of sharing happened - like a catharsis. That sudden, dramatic and unexpected. She was finally ready. Past ready. Your brother may need similar space to visit this issue - so be prepared. Or better yet - don't be prepared. For anything. Because going down these paths of discovery, it seems the only thing that can be expected is that nothing can be expected.
 
OMG, long story short, my brother read the email.

His immediate response was to be angry at what Jimmy did to me.
Not shame at what I allowed to happen.

I held breath all these decades, believing I would just have to endure the shame if I ever brought it up. Holy crap, I am standing in a new world.

He shared a lot. He didn't have any encounter with Jimmy. But was bullied by he older brother and friends. He told me a lot about Jimmy's adult life. Mostly that he blew the family fortune on coke and was drunk all the time.
 
What a relief this must be for you!
 
This. This is what healing looks like. It's about finding the truths we never dared imagine, and tearing down the constructs of assumptions we've bent and twisted our lives around for years. Nothing heals like truth.
 
Reading this as a Newbie here, I'm just in awe of you. What a strong and powerful thing you've done!
 
This may have lead to the biggest step towards healing as anything before. Or maybe I am just ready. Thank you for the awesome support.
 
Maybe this sounds strange. But I've been following everything you write and have written. And you give me so much hope for my own future. I wish to thank you for it.
 
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