BrowniesWeltanschauung

Monday, January 24, 2005

Vacillation and closure

When I was 11 years old, I was molested by a man. The man was my uncle.

My father was an alcoholic. He was abusive to my mother when he was drunk, which was most of the time. He spent all of his money on booze. He cheated. He lied. It was the reason that my mother finally divorced him when I was 9 years old.

My mom worked hard all of her life to support my brother, my sister, and me. We didn't have the best of things, but we always had everything that we needed. Sometimes, as all kids do, I resented her. I was pissed because we lived in a nice neighborhood...upper middle class...but all of my friends had nicer clothes, nicer houses, cooler parents...

As an adult, I look back on how she struggled to take care of us. I appreciate it now. There were times that she worked 3 jobs to keep us fed and clothed. We spent a lot of time at my aunt's and uncle's house. He was disabled (legally blind), so he didn't work. It was free babysitting. Who could blame her?

I loved my aunt and uncle. I thought of him as my surrogate father. I trusted him. He was so fun for an 'old person.' He taught me how to shoot pool. He played video games. We played board games together and watched movies and cartoons. I loved him.

It started one night, when I was about 11. He brushed up against me and it didn't feel quite right. He never said anything, sorry, oops, excuse me...so that made it feel even more wrong, like somehow I knew it wasn't an accident. It continued and got progressively worse. He tried to penetrate me once, but I was so young... I won't go into the details because I know no one wants to hear it, or have to imagine it, but it was bad. It went on for 2 years.

One day, I'd finally had enough. I refused to go to their house after school. My aunt had come to pick us up on her way home from work. She worked at the same place my mom did. I told her I wouldn't go, that I'd stay home by myself. Finally, she called my mom.

Mom knew something was wrong. I think she knew exactly what was wrong because of the way I was acting.

Then came the talk...

I couldn't tell my mom or my aunt what exactly had happened, or for how long it had been happening. I did think that maybe I'd done something wrong. He told me not to tell, that they'd be mad at me, that they'd blame me, that I was a bad, dirty girl. I believed him.

I did tell though, just no details. I told them that he'd touched me. I hated him.

And now he's gone...his life taken by his own hand in one last act of selfishness. Leaving his bloodied body behind for his own children to find him.

I'm glad he's gone. I'm glad he was so wracked with guilt that he couldn't stand it anymore and finally had to make it all stop. I'd have killed him myself if I'd had the opportunity. I wanted to.

I feel an overwhelming sense of grief for his kids, my cousins. I do. What a horrible way to lose your father. They had no idea what a monster the man used to be. To them, he was just daddy. They loved him. And I love them.

I will not miss the man, but I am sorry for those that will.

Changes

Christmas was fun this year. I hadn't really noticed it but when I look back on the past few years, I haven't been enjoying Christmas like I used to.

Thanksgiving of '99 was a huge blow to my ego, my self esteem, my heart, my trust, my entire life. For that reason, Thanksgiving hasn't been the greatest holiday for me since. I've pretty much gotten past it though. I enjoyed Turkey Day very much this year and thoughts of the ex and the past never even came to mind.

I guess I hadn't noticed that I'd been letting that anger, resentment, and pain spill over into the Christmas and New Year holidays.

My sister pointed out to me that this year was the happiest she'd seen me at Christmastime for quite a while and that she was happy to see it.

I'm glad that she brought it to my attention. I've been doing some thinking since she brought it up. I've changed so much in the past 5 years. I even amaze myself at times. I've come a long long way just to get back to my old self. Strange...

I'm more the old me than I've been in nearly 20 years; a little wiser, a little less trusting, a little more lonely, a good bit older, and a lot fatter, but me, just me again.

There are things I'd still like to change, improve, eliminate; that will all come in time.

For today, though, it's nice to be me.

I'm going to go ahead and post this song here. I've listened to it over and over today. I cannot believe how much it speaks to me and my love situation.

Broken Like An Angel
By: Crossfade

She was a queen
Lost within a dream
Misconceived that he was fit to reign
Lies take victims
Separate them at the seams
Cause them to fall apart
Then move along to better things now

She wants to fall in love again
Don't you know that
He's satisfied to own her

No time permits to open up
When you've been hiding thoughts so strong
She's been holding out for an angel to come along
No reply from the sky
But she just keeps looking up
She just keeps looking up now

She wants to fall in love again
Don't you know that
He's satisfied to own her

She'll never know love's true potential
Lost in the open wind
To his impatience
Never feeling they would fall apart
She let her feelings grow
To tears she'll never show now

She wants to fall in love again
Don't you know that
He's satisfied to own her

You know he couldn't see
That she could be his everything
Bringing light to everything now, oh

She just wants to fall in love again
She's broken like an angel

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Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Emotional and physical pain

Pain is a constant thing for me, really. I have constant lower back pain from scoliosis. On the days immediately preceding what I like to call, the curse, I have a good bit of pain. During the curse, the pain is often overwhelming.

I have PCOS. That's polycystic ovarian syndrome, for those that don't know. Part of the PCOS is this pain that comes with the curse. I'm not talking about cramps here. I'm talking about gut-wrenching pain. I get very angry when people talk about their little menstrual cramps, when they need to lie in bed with a heating pad, etc. It makes me furious, because I know the difference between that pain and real pain. My pain they could not handle.

Add to that physical pain the emotional pain that comes with the curse and that's where the overwhelming part comes in. When the curse finally does show its ugly self, it's just a reminder of what I'm lacking. What I don't have. What I probably can't have.

One of the many doctors I've had over the years noticed that I dilate during the curse. She got the bright idea to hook me up to a monitor and low and behold, guess what she found? The pain that I have during the curse is akin to early labor. Yes, LABOR!

Now isn't that a kick in the pants? Thanks a lot God, or Mother Nature, or the universe, or whoever.

I'm not going to let you have any children of your own, but I will allow you the fun-filled experience of LABOR every couple of months. How's that sound?

Great, just great.

That's how I'm doing today. Glad you asked?