What I Learned From "The Hallelujah Life"

A chance meeting with the pastors of an Internet church resulted in me being given a book called "The Hallelujah Life" by Richard Propes, an Indianapolis-based children's advocate who has paraplegia and spinal bifida. While there is some triggering material in this book due to descriptions of the sexual abuse he survived and his suicidal episodes, this is a book I can not recommend strongly enough for people with borderline personality disorder (BPD). I learned much from this 117-page book of poetry and short stories, but perhaps the most important lesson was that abuse is confusing.

It is normal to have warm feelings toward an abuser.

In her book, I Can't Get Over It, another book I recommend for people with BPD, Dr. Aphrodite Matsakis writes "Both battered women and incest victims may have protective, loving feelings toward their abuser because of the ... affection the abuser has showered upon them. .... An abusive relationship becomes especially entrapping when the abuser is one of those who truly does love the victim. Even though the love may be mixed with unhealthy dependency and the abuser is using the victim as a scapegoat for present or past frustrations in life, the abuser may be genuinely bonded to and have real positive feelings for his or her victim."

Propes, who was sexually abused by a neighborhood boy, writes about being shunned by his Kingdom Hall for "homosexual behavior". He writes "I've often wondered if, perhaps, I carried more than a smidgen of guilt that I did spend years believing that Jeff loved me and just didn't know how to express it. It took me years to identify his behavior as abusive, and in that failure to identify abuse I certainly had to acknowledge that there were aspects of the abuse I enjoyed and appreciated. I'd never really heard the words 'I love you' before. Jeff said 'I love you' all the time. Even though he followed up his words with physical and sexual abuse, hearing the words was somehow really meaningful for me at the time. I craved the words 'I love you.' Jeff may have hurt my body, actually he did hurt my body, but he also wasn't afraid of it. With the exception of nurses during my many hospitalizations, there was very little tenderness or affection in my life and I'm very aware that I craved human contact and appreciation for my physical being."

This insight helped me come to terms with my own sexual abuse. I no longer feel like I'm crazy for having feelings toward my abuser. And you don't have to, either.

My abuser is responsible for the abuse.

Propes describes his abuse in a poem called "The Question That Can't Be Answered". "There is no question that my overwhelming loneliness contributed, even at the age of eleven, to my sense of social desperation. But, loneliness did not cause my abuse. Jeff is responsible," he writes. "I was lonely. I was desperate. I was insecure. I was disabled. But, Jeff is responsible."

This also helped me come to terms with my own emotional and sexual abuse. Were there things that contributed? Absolutely. But contribution is not causation. The responsibility for the abuse rests squarely on the shoulders of my abuser. Responsibility for any abuse is always on the abuser, regardless of what circumstances may have enabled the abuse.

Abuse can be overcome.

On October 8, 1989, Propes began his first Tenderness Tour to raise awareness about child abuse. He traveled around Indiana by wheelchair, relying on the kindness of strangers and speaking whenever possible. "Abuse doesn't end in the rain, snow, heat or storms," he writes. "Our efforts to end it can't end either."

He also writes "I became obsessed with the idea that abuse survivors needed to know that there was someone out there willing to endure anything to make a difference."

After experiencing the kindness and openness of people throughout Indiana, he concluded "There is tenderness in the world. I'd thought that I might return home free to just go ahead and kill myself, but quite the opposite happened. I came home realizing that all the old tapes that were playing in my head were wrong. I came home realizing that there was more than just a reason to live, I had a purpose in my life. It was going to be my life's mission to reach the unreachable, touch the untouchable and to find a way to love those who believe themselves to be unlovable."

I have nothing to add to that but "Amen!" It truly is a Hallelujah Life.