part 87

I was talking to another survivor of childhood abuse, and he mentioned the need to grieve the things that were done to us. That really threw me for a loop. I have been busy grieving the family I never had, and learning how to get along in the world. It had not occurred to me that I would need to additionally sort through all of that pain from the actual acts that hurt me, and grieve that pain, too.

It adds yet another new dimension to it all, but at least this time I was already aware of what was there, even if I wasn't aware of what I would need to do with it.

All of the shit I remembered about my mom, and the realizations of what it all meant, was the last big blow. I've described before how much it felt like I had a nightmare jack-in-the-box in my head, and that just when I had gotten to the point of being able to deal with a previous new memory, a new new memory would surface, and knock me back again.

I feel like my mom, and I guess my brother and sister, are everything I was so terrified to lose. Maybe the reason I didn't recognize all of the bad things with them was because it meant I would lose them. Actually, right now it feels more like recognizing that I never had them.

I guess I actually did fight seeing what was real a lot; I mean, my own brain took it all out of play for fifteen years, and that's a pretty big indicator that I fought not to see it. It seems like I have been fighting not to see every little thing that happened, but in the end I am not able to fight that hard for that long, and it all eventually comes out.

This shit with my mom, though- jesus. It is the worst. My MOM. The person I needed and wanted her to be wasn't real, and what's left over is this malicious, conniving, self-obsessed, and very, very sick woman. On the one hand, I can definitely empathize with her madness as a human being, but on the other hand, the BETRAYAL is such a huge punch in the gut. It is a really long lasting punch, too. That shit hurts - it is so heavy, and it really, really hurts.

I wonder how different it would have been if she had just been straight-up about hating me, and had not tried to convince me that she was an awesome mom and person. How would it have been different if she had not gone to such lengths to convince me that I was crazy? Would I actually be crazy if I had to face all of that shit head on as a kid? If I didn't have continuous objections to accepting what other people told me about myself, would I have just become what they were trying to make me believe I was?

Its just that there has been a lifetime commitment of deceit and withholding love. I wonder if it was worth it, now that I'm telling everyone about it anyway? She almost made it, too. All of those assholes over in that neighborhood almost made it. They are all past 60, retiring, dying, rocking on the front porch. They all almost made it to the golden years without having to face what they had done. Really, without having to face me.

But here I am. All of that work, the mind-fucking, the subduing, the covering up, the stress of just keeping it going for so long, and the big payoff was so close! But I ruined it for them. I ruined the rest of their lives.

I've been thinking, too, about what my brother keeps trying to make me believe: what if I am a stone-hearted, malicious, devious bitch bent on manipulating everyone to my advantage and/or sick pleasure? First of all, if I was that person, I really feel I would have manipulated my way into a much easier socio-economic status. What would the point be of going through all of that work to make things easy for myself without actually making things easy for myself?

I mean, come on. I'm 35 years old and have never been able to hold a real job, or to even consistently care for my own personal hygiene. My "new" car is almost ten years old. I get my clothes and purses and shoes from the "used" section on ebay, or on clearance at Target. My house is older than I am, and in need of extensive repairs.

I really think if I was capable of manipulating people this whole time to hurt them or have fun or benefit myself, I would have had a pretty easy time manipulating myself into a 4,000 square foot condo in Buckhead, and a brand new car every year, and open accounts at every department store at Lenox Mall AND Phipps Plaza, and a mouth full of fabulously white, straight, intact teeth.

Now that I am thinking about it, my brother keeps saying that I am manipulating people, but I can't figure out what exactly it is that he thinks I've manipulated.

The thing is, even if I was subconsciously (or consciously) a sociopath who is making up all of these stories about people hurting me for my whole life, even if my brother was right, I still wouldn't want anything to do with him, or my sister, or my mom.

So why the harassment? I don't understand. If I really am such a devious and horrible person, why the insistence on maintaining some type of contact? Why isn't the fact that I don't want anything to do with them not enough to make them not want to have anything to do with me? I guess they could say it's because of the kids, but if I was this horrible person, I still wouldn't let them have any contact with my kids.

Which, by the way, my brother did anyway after I specifically told him not to several times. The email I put in my previous post was copied to my son. What the fuck? Why would someone who claimed to love a kid so much send him an email filled with a bunch nonsensical shit about the kid's mom? I don't know.

I'm really over even trying to make sense of any of it - I already know none of it makes sense, so why keep expending the energy?

It will be soooooo nice when we are finally able to get the fuck out of here.