Our abusers’ refusal to accept responsibility is one of the many challenges difficult for us trauma survivors to accept. Abusers don’t want to acknowledge what they did because then they’d have to take responsibility or be held accountable and that’s too scary. Unfortunately, we have to find ways to achieve resolution without them. Each person needs to find or create resolution in their way. Here are some things I’ve done that might resonate with you.
Visualization: My father was a monster to me and for most of my life I thought I didn’t deserve to be here and that I should die. But then I realized I only thought I should die because it would be better than living with what he had done. I realized it was his death wish for me, not mine. So I visualized confronting him in a courtroom, a setting that felt very safe because everything was about holding him accountable. I imagined a ball of energy in my hands, black and crackling with purple and hot pink electricity. I manipulated the ball between my hands as I confronted him from across the room. I told him everything I needed to say and that this death wish was his. Then I hurled the ball of death wish energy across the room. It hit him in the chest and stuck. (I can’t say this had anything to do with his demise but 9 weeks later he was dead, having hit his head in a fall.)
Around that time I also sent him a series of four “perp cards.” These were postcards from a third party. I uploaded the images, chose the fonts and colors, gave them his address, and told them what to print. The first card was a picture of me as a baby. The text, “I remember everything. Everything.” Each card ratcheted up the sense that the truth of what he did was circling him like a wolf circles its prey. At his memorial, some people spoke of his remarkable generosity that summer. He gave away his extensive tool collection and a lot of money. That felt very satisfying. He knew.
Burning: I’ve also ceremonially burned things for resolution. For instance, I tied a piece of string around my wrist twice, once for each parent. I talked about the relationship and how I needed to break those bonds. I cut the strings and burned them while I thought about and spoke about never seeing them again.
Building: A few years ago I built a “ship of dreams” out of natural materials plus a little bit of white glue. I filled the bamboo vessel with flowers representing everything I had lost and needed to let go of. I put the boat in the creek and let it meet its end. This could also be done with popsicle sticks or sticks or rocks.
Throwing: Speaking of rocks, I’ve also found throwing rocks into the frozen creek is remarkably releasing without hurting anything. Smashing the ice feels powerful, especially if I also verbalize my release.
Painting: I painted a lot of watercolors that depict my abusers as ugly creatures. My father is a green monster with a red bull head, crazy eyes and steam coming out his nostrils. I have depicted him committing his crimes, being hit by the ball of death wish, and more. This has been particularly helpful, especially as I have been able to put these paintings together to make sort of a graphic novel story about the relationship.
Ceremony: I also performed a funeral for “the father of my dreams” years before he died. I realized what I had been wanting was not connection with my father but with a real father. The one I dreamed of, who was able to attune and express empathy and compassion. So I wrote a memorial to the father I had always dreamed of. I wrote about the many ways he was good for me. It happened to be raining the day of the mock funeral. Perfect! I had a big black umbrella under which I stood as I read the eulogy. I buried the paper at the foot of the headstone I made out of a chunk of maple wood inscribed with permanent marker. In the evening I put a candle on top of the headstone. I could see its like each time I passed by the window. It was comforting. The headstone, being maple without a finish, disintegrated into the earth over a few months. Watching it disappear was part of my process.
Speaking: One of the most satisfying ceremonies was to stand over his grave and recite modified lines from Jim Henson’s movie, “Labyrinth.” I said, “Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered I fought my way to take back the child you have stolen. You have no power over me!”
Symbolic Spending: Also, though he left my sister and me out of his will because we had the wrong chromosomes, he had forgotten about a small life insurance policy. I ended up with a few hundred dollars which I decided to spend on things he would hate, including a pair of socks that make me happy every time I wear them.
Flushing: Long ago, I reproduced images of him on plain paper, cut them out, and placed them on the back of the toilet. Each time I needed to go I tossed one in the bowl, did my business, and flushed! Also around that time I bought a cigar box for a dollar from the cigar store, spray painted it, and decorated it to represent our relationship. It looked fairly normal on the outside but the inside was festooned with carpet tacks lined up like sharks teeth. The artwork emphasized that he was never really a father, just the source of a shirt, a meal, a roof.
Dancing: Sometimes, just to spite him, I dance for joy! I might even say you are in the ground, nothing but dust, and I’m still here. Not only did I survive your unspeakable crimes without accountability, I can build a new life.
I hope this gives you some ideas you can start with. The process can actually be quite interesting and even fun. I wish you all the best!
Image: “Giving Back His Death Wish,” watercolors, permanent marker, psychiatric hospital pencil, 12×9
