As I continue this walk called life, I am reminded of old friends. I have had a difficult time in the past five years and have lost all of my friends that I had ever known. At the same time I became willingly estranged from my mother and step-father. My mother moved in on my family and with my second ex-husband sued me for custody of my two youngest children. They wanted to go live with their father and so it was not worth the fight in court. Plus, it would have been the fifth time I had been to court to fight for custody of them. I was tired, recovering from back surgery for the second time and they wanted to go. They were 10 and 12 at the time. I did not realize that my mother had been involved. Apparently my ex-husband had taken my children to my mothers house in San Francisco and she promised them the moon if they went to go live at their Dad's house. I found this out after the fact. It was already to late to do anything and my heart was truly broken after finding this out.
A few months had passed after they left my house and I could not take the pain, nor the lies from my family anymore. I packed up my house and my older sister flew out from Louisiana. The plan was to drive the R.V. back to Louisiana and be with my sister until I felt better emotionally. I was very excited and since I am not a believer in children going from home to home every weekend it worked out well in my mind. I was judged heavily by some for not staying but when you consider that I had lost my home because I was paying $1400.00 a month in child support and could no longer afford much of anything, there were not a lot of places or options for me at the time. So, living with family seemed like an opportunity to heal the past and begin a new future. I decided that a new locale far away from my mother and step-father might just be the answer to my life-long pain. I had it all dreamed up in my head and new that with a little time this would be the place where eventually my children could visit during summer vacations. I was also healing from a severe back surgery, so my prospects for work had changed. I needed to re-think what I was going to do with my life. Little did I know that I had become part of what seemed like a bidding war.
My ex-husband would call me on the phone and scream, "where is my fucking money." My mother was calling and leaving messages that I just could not understand, nor decipher at the time. The only person in support of me leaving seemed to be my older sister. The man that had taken up residence in my home said that I could not leave. He went to tell me that the house was now his and I was subject to what he wanted to do. I just could hardly move because I missed my kids so much. I have four children all together. The oldest graduated was going to University at Berkeley. I was not invited to her graduation some two years after this was happening. She has not contacted or spoken to much since this time I am speaking of. The second oldest moved to San Francisco at this time to attend SF City College. So this time in my life I was really excited about finally being alone with the younger two and having some very special times. So the depression that hit me was hard and to this day I am still fighting this pain and sadness of loosing so much, so fast.
It's funny when you look back on something and think about how it all played out. You would be tempted to wonder, "Well, if I had done this, or, if I had done that." In my case, I don't ever think that way. I knew that leaving the Sacramento area was the best thing emotionally for me. I knew how many secrets were bottled up inside of me. I knew that my children had no idea about any truth in my life. I knew that they were only aware of the few things that I had ever told them about my growing up in San Francisco. My oldest daughter had the most information, in fact, after I had requested of her not to go and live with my mother, step-father, half-sister and half-brother for the summer, she did it anyway. After many run-ins at the house she finally called me one day and said, "they don't have anything on you Mom." I told her, "No, but I have plenty on them." Before my oldest child decided not to speak to me at all anymore, she did come and visit me before I left for LA to ask questions. I did answer most of the ones I was comfortable answering, but I realized how much I had never told my children. It became a rather strange day for me, I just had not realized how many secrets that I kept to myself.
Turned out that she had been partying with my younger brother and sister ( I'll refer to them that way, as oppose to the half-brother and half-sister, I find it offensive to myself) going to bars and drinking had spurred her decision to live with my mother that summer. She was only 19 at the time. Needless to say I was not pleased to find out that my brother and sister who are much closer to my age, were now partying with my daughter. I confronted my mother on this fact and she told me that they (my brother and sister) were weak minded and that my daughter had coerced them into taking her out every night to drink. I guess you now know why we parted company or better said became estranged from one another. I wrote down accounts as they happened in a journal I had started five years ago. I began it at the same time my youngest two children went to go and live with their father. I started this journal in hopes to not have my life spin out of control, but to stop it before it happened. I also found a really cool psychologist to have counseling through this very traumatic time.
I was with my counselor for six months prior to my move to Louisiana. This would have been the first time that I really began to explore the idea of speaking out on my past. I have always been very nervous about sharing anything of any consequence. My so called friends, if you were ever to speak to them, would tell you, "Oh yea, we know everything about her life." In reality, they know nothing about my life. Although we spoke of my mother often, she was such a hot topic, we never spoke of the real abuse, or the fact that I had been taken to see a psychiatrist at the age three. I never shared that with anyone until recently. Oddly, I have waited until I have what is in my mind, supported by people who were actually in my life as a child and saw what I had endured. So, all these so called friends that seem to know all there is about me, don't even know what they are talking about in regards to what they believe that I have been through. The most support, encouragement and forward thinking, has come from the people that have read my blog.
As I read the other blogs, I find myself encouraged today. Maybe it is terrible to find hope in the pain of the writings of other people, but it helps me know that I am not as alone in this dilemma. I know that I have a lot to say sometimes. I know that for years I have gone out of my way not to engage my mind on these affairs. I know that I had made a decision long ago to just let it all go. I know that when I was young, I just wanted to be able to grow-up just enough to tell my story and then I changed my mind, as I found out how difficult it is to come to terms with the reality of what has actually happened to you. I know that I have not kept my promise to myself yet, but I also know that even on a path of destruction you can find healing each day from understanding that what has happened so long ago was not your fault. I know that if I could tell my story, even if I just write it out to or for myself and I feel this would bring some healing to me. I know that I watched my mother brain-wash people. I know that I can write or speak in such a way to explain how you don't need to be re-programmed after being with a cult leader, you need the support to know that what was real, really did happen. You need to know that these type of people, narcissists or better known to the medical field sociopaths or a malignant narcissist, whatever we collectively would like to refer to this type of personality is very dangerous. They do speak in a very specific manner which is difficult for the layman to interpret easily. Truthfully what matters is understanding that with the gift of verse alone, these type of people shatter your soul, destroy your dreams, take from you your individuality and walk away guilt free every time. Most importantly, you must remember that they are repeat performers in our lives. The benefit we have in all of this madness for ourselves is the hope that eventually, through what seems like great difficulties we can figure this out. That is truly a blessing in disguise. Who I feel for with great empathy, in between my own fits of pity for myself personally, is the layman, the next innocent victim, the next member of the church, the person that came from a cult and doesn't know how to heal from what happened. I feel greatly responsible personally for these people. I am not sure why I carry such a heavy burden. I sometimes feel disappointed in myself for not acting earlier on behalf of the people that seem to fall victim to this insanity. Maybe its just me, maybe its just I saw to much abuse as a child, maybe its just stupid to carry such a burden for people I don't even know. But, somehow I feel strongly that my life is my gift, a blessing in disguise, not a curse or something to get over, just something to understand and move on with what I am able to do with such a life filled with trouble. I feel that my service to humanity is helping to undo what I saw done to so many in my life. I don't know if I would ever be successful at such a task, I just feel compelled to try to help put back into the Universe what I personally saw taken out.
http://thesecretoftheuniversechoice.blogspot.com/2011/03/foresee.html
No comments:
Post a Comment