I suppose we all have, to a great extent, to find our own way through the hell that was forced on us by being abused and by being the captives of a system, a religion, that has always been about control. control of the mind by means of instilling fear, shame and guilt.
When it comes to Mirfield, I must admit that my thoughts and feelings are full of confusion and contradictions.
There are things I hate about Mirfield and there are things I love. I can understand why others who were fortunate enough to not be victims of the abuse, have fond memories of Roe Head. The more I remember my early days there, before the abuse started, which ruined my life, the more I know I was once in a place where I was happy. I certainly was not aware of any of the points I made earlier about theism and organised religion, so that didn’t bother me. I suppose that was a case of ‘ignorance is bliss’.
I can see the possible benefits that revisiting Mirfield might bring, perhaps the possibility of exorcising some demons. I suppose it would all depend on the intent of the visit. But there is another side to it,something that frightens me even more. I feel that if there is any place in this world that might throw me into still further confusion it would be Mirfield. I ask myself if I really want to revisit a place and time where a big part of me still is.
I know this may sound rather off the wall, but I am still drawn to the good things, the good memories. I know that this is a case of emotion defeating reason but perhaps it might have something to do with my memories of the good things being so much in contrast with the bad things, the good things representing the former me,the person I was, the person they killed. That person I was, would have grown into a better person with a different life than the disaster that my life became.
The more I remember my former self the more I long to return to 1963 when I first set foot in Roe Head. It was a wonderful time of my life and I miss it so much. Something I have said before, something that still remains with me, it’s strange how long suppressed memories from over half a century ago escape when allowed to and become just as vivid as things right now . Perhaps it’s better to try and keep them securely locked away even though that doesn’t really help deal with the problem.
The faces of friends are as clear as they were then and with that comes that realisation it’s where I have have been all along. I do understand the problem. It’s like never growing up ,never growing old, never moving on, never maturing, just transforming into the unacceptable.It’s being back in a world never really left. It has always linguered there somewhere in my mind but now can become as real as today’s reality. It all comes to life . Forever looking for something lost, something stolen,something precious and irreplaceable.
I did go through a phase just recently when I welcomed remembering more of the good things because it did seem to bring some comfort, But now, it only brings feelings of despair. Despair in knowing that it’s all gone. I don’t know what else to say. Perhaps I’m mourning my dead self, as someone suggested. So that is my dilema. I’m not sure I could face going to Roe Head only to find an empty, bare landscape. It’s the same with reunions. I don’t know that I could face meeting again those I remember from Mirfield and by doing so have to then face the stark reality that Roe Head and my friends are gone forever. It’s just all confusion but I suppose I should be thankful that I am aware of the problem regardless of how painful that is.