I had a mini internal explosion a couple of weeks while in a meeting about providing treatment services for sex offenders and was filled with such rage at these men - how DARE you? HOW DARE YOU?
The Asshole (or, AH, as he is not-so-affectionately known by my mom and me) caused so much pain and damage to my family, pain that cannot be forgotten, removed, blocked, erased, or in any other way undone. He went to prison for nearly five years as a result of his behavior. He's out now. His time is served, but ours? We're still serving time. We received the gift that keeps on giving.
It won't ever go away, not completely. We are each healing, in our own ways and at our own rates. We are also each damaged, irreparably. My mom has tremendous guilt and has suffered horribly. My sister struggles immensely. My brothers hurt. The two girls he abused? I don't even know the depth of their pain.
The anger and rage I feel waxes and wanes. Sometimes it is more manageable and other times I want to kill him. Literally. I want to inflict such terrible and unimaginable pain on him. He does not deserve to live.
You don't get to hurt people, especially children. You just don't.
"He's sick, he has antisocial personality disorder or he's a narcissist, maybe he was abused himself, he's an alcoholic." I don't give a flying fuck. Keep your filthy, monstrous, child-abusing hands to yourself. And may you rot in hell.