Tuesday, June 24, 2008

14 Years Ago

These are some excerpts from a journal I found a while back.

Background to help understand this post – my brother (one of my abusers) had an enormous tumor and it was at this time he was living at our house temporarily while he underwent testing, treatment and eventually a surgery to remove it. My parents were still married but my father (another abuser) was living/working out of state. He returned home for all of this. It was also a few days before my birthday. I'd like to add that my jaw nearly hit the floor when I read back over this and saw the following first statement.....HOW exactly does she ask a kid something of this magnitude after what I'd experienced at the hands of my family??

6/6/94: Mom has asked me to help keep the family together. How do I tell her, at a time like this, that I don’t feel like I have anything to hold it together for? I’ve been trying for so long, following in my mother’s footsteps. It’s not a behavior pattern I want to follow. Saturday was an absolute disaster. We had dinner and I was so miserable. I was just dealing with so many feelings and having (brother) and dad there together is too overwhelming. (Brother's Girlfriend) was here and Uncle too. Under other circumstances, I could have forced myself to be happy. But I was bursting into tears all evening. It was all I could do to even sit at the table with them I hardly ate, I barely spoke and when I did it was quiet & brief. Mom said that I sounded like a wounded child. Don’t they understand that is exactly what I am? They bring me back to that hurt scared little girl that I was and I guess I’m just not in touch with all those feelings yet. I felt horrible – I knew I was ruining dinner but I just couldn’t force it Let me add that (Brother) and Dad both did not recognize or mention my birthday. Mom got a cake but they didn’t want to have it with me.

7/4/94 (Brother) had his surgery. It was long and complicated. I stayed at the hospital all day with mom. I went to the hospital a few times but couldn’t handle it. Just seeing him so helpless was like turning the tables. I just didn’t know how to feel about all of it. I didn’t like to see him in pain but I wasn’t really upset. One of the side effects of the surgery could have been impotence. I found myself thinking what a sick kind of justice that would be. I know that’s horrible and I certainly wasn’t wishing for it. Sometime I feel like I’m making too much out of what happened. There’s no doubt it’s affected me. Will I ever know what “making love” feels like? Will it ever be more than just an empty physical act? I was going to throw together some dinner and I asked Mom where something was and she said it was on the table. I felt like I was in a movie. I turned around to look at the table and I felt like I was in slow motion. I saw the table all set and started to hyperventilate and cry. I tried to collect myself but I was hysterical. I didn’t want to go through that dinner scene again. My stomach just dropped and I was mad at mom for putting me in that position without forewarning me. She said she asked everyone what they wanted to do and they wanted to eat at the table. I guess I’m not part of everyone? I ran downstairs feeling very upset and betrayed.

It was interesting to me to read these. I realized I've been dealing with panic attacks FAR longer than I ever realized. I realize how long I've been questioning if what happened was really "that bad" or if I was making too much of it. I had forgotten completely that my mother actually asked me to help her keep the family together. That's insanity. No wonder I'm so hostile toward her. It showed me how long I've been pushing my own pain aside so as not to inconvenience others. It shows me how F***ed up my family really is.


Angel said...

How awesome that you have your own words from the past right there in front of you, to remind you of what it was "really" like to be there and to be experiencing it. No, you aren't making more of it than it was. It was awful. The fact that you survived it doesn't speak to its being not so bad; it speaks to your will to survive.

Your mother had nerve!

Marj aka Thriver said...

It's amazing the stuff we find out when we read our old journals! I've gone through a very similar exercise.

Thanks for offering to do the BLOG CARNIVAL AGAINST CHILD ABUSE hosting in the fall. You'll be great!