I just stumbled across a post on someone else’s blog about a situation that they believe happened with Loki, the description of which is eerily similar to some of the attacks that AJ and I were subjected to over the winter. I know that they probably wouldn’t care even if I knew how to get in touch with them, because they are hurting and not particularly keen on Loki or His folk at the moment, but I wish I could at least offer them support. Regardless of whether Loki had anything to do with this person’s attack experiences or not, I know what it’s like to think that what they’ve described is happening and, as a result, to have it doubted that you’ve actually experienced what you know to be your reality, not to mention being ostracized, to a degree, as a result of speaking out about that kind of experience.
I wish I could tell this person directly that I believe that what they’ve experienced really happened to them, and let them know that I get it, the maelstrom of raw, difficult emotion — pain, fear, anger, confusion and much worse — regardless of whether they’re interested in hearing anything else about what I’ve known I experienced, or what I thought was happening at the time vs what I later discovered. So often, especially when people express unpopular opinions or experiences — or those that others don’t understand — people jump to judging and presuming without truly even attempting to understand first, or trying to keep an open mind. I certainly know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that in many ways, dealing with a vast array of people from multiple communities, and I’m well aware of how lonely and frustrating it can be to have your reality consistently dismissed, at best. My heart goes out to them; I hope they’re well on their way to finding peace, if they haven’t already.
Meeting someone who has been wounded where they are, in order to offer them compassion (and understanding, particularly in a situation where it comes so easily) is the least that I can do, if I want to help others — and I certainly do. I don’t even have to know whether I agree with their assessment of their own situation; it’s irrelevant. It doesn’t cause me any harm or pain to care about the fact that someone else is hurting. When this happens, but my hands are tied and there is nothing I can do to help, despite caring deeply, despite being able to relate and feeling the echo of a similar wound, that is what pains me.