Shoes

Repeatedly it has been pointed out to me what a difficult situation this must be for my parents. I usually shrug. I don't really know what they go through, because my family has never had open communication about the situation. Even in this online "anonymous" format, I refer to what happened in vague terms, and I keep it pretty general. I have never been taught how to talk about it, or how to express my feelings that are a direct result of what happened to me. But just because I don't know exactly what they are going through, or thinking, does not mean I can not imagine. I have actually imagined quite a bit, what I would do if one of my children hurt the other in the way that I was hurt. I have imagined my immediate reaction, the emotions, and my long lasting reaction. I have imagined if I had found out when the abuse was still taking place, what differences there might be in my reaction. I have imagined how my reaction would be different if I did not find out about the abuse until it was "too late" and one child had harmed the other to an "irreparable" state.  How would I react differently if I were to walk in on an abuse taking place. I can not say what is appropriate as a reaction from my parents. But I can say that I know my reactions in any of my imagined situations would be lacking.

Much to many people's surprise, I do not think that I am perfect. Quite the opposite actually. I am broken, imperfect, and a very big mess. I don't think that I would produce the perfect response to any situation if my children are ever the object of abuse, or abusers themselves. But I know I would not walk away. Or pretend there is no hurt, or hide my feelings, or put on a brave front. Even now when the boys are hurt with a stubbed toe, or falling in the midst of the mess of toys they just made, I cry with them. I tell them that when you are hurt, it is ok to cry. This has taken me a while, I don't remember crying when I needed to most. I remember being strong and brave (and very angry). 

I have felt lately that I needed to make a decision. My family has not handled this situation in any way that is healing for me. I have felt like I need to walk away, stop the pain, take care of myself for my children. Then a friend loaned me a book, "Outgrowing the Pain". It was a quick read, thank goodness, and it made several points that I needed reaffirmed. One of which is that I am not alone. I may feel alone if I don't do what my family wants from me, but if their love is contingent on me acting in certain ways than maybe what they want me to do is more for their benefit than mine. (This realization was not one that I connected with my parents, more the abuser.) But just the fact that I wrote that disclaimer makes me think. Why do I need to clarify? If the shoe fits the reader they should wear it. 

I still do a lot in my life to try and win the affection of my parents. I think I always will. Not to say that my parents don't love me. They provided shelter, food, and dance classes (which has turned into a therapeutic activity), for me throughout my life; they have loved me the best they know how. I do not fault them for any of the things that happened to me by someone else's hand, or by my own. I think had they known they would have done "something" to have stopped it. Maybe send me away, or hire a babysitter, or something. But they never knew, they had to work, so they could provide their love for me.(which I do not say with a sarcastic tone, I truly believe they were doing what they felt was best for their children)

All I can do now is to internalize what I can do for my children. I can take the knowledge that I have from my experience and try to prevent the cycle from continuing. I try to maintain our priority in my family to be loving time and experiences. I let my children scream out their feelings, when they are done I talk with them about how they feel, how they are making me feel, and what we can do. I am by no means perfect, I feel like I have to keep saying that because I am saying how hard I try, and I do not want it assumed that I think I am any better than my parents. I still slam things, but then I talk about it. Why I did it, how it made me feel, how I probably shouldn't have done it. My boys know I am imperfect, but at the end of the day, they still want some cuddles. They still want just one more hug. 

I have always avoided counseling for the abuse. I tried once, the therapist told me I should try cutting ties with my family. I stopped going. That is still one of the scariest things for me. Why? I feel alone already, and I am constantly looking for ways to win approval or affection. Maybe it is time that I step back and let someone else earn my love, earn my trust. Maybe I should go back to therapy and listen....maybe....or maybe I should continue on the way it's been. Continue to love myself and wonder why I am not worthy. Continue to hate myself and wonder why he is worthy. Maintain a false smile, remember to say "we're good", and just hope that some day the discussion will happen and the elephant will be evicted from the room. Or give up hope. 

feelings on facebook

Humans crave community. We crave a group of people around us who can say "I know how you feel, I still love you, and let's work through this together"". We want to know we are loved and supported when we feel weak and alone. But we are so busy as a society, and so individualistic in our living situations that we have to find an alternative to satisfy this craving for a community. Enter social media, and a new obsession for our culture.

I am not getting on a soap box to say social media is evil, and is ruining human relationships, I feel like the opposite can be true of it. I know some of the people I am closest with at this point I first connected with through facebook. I am also seeing some of the down sides of social media (mostly facebook) and how it effects our relationships and interactions while being introspective about my mood, and emotions.

When I open my facebook I always fight the urge to post a status about how I am feeling. Why? Well, because I do not want to post how I am truly feeling, or what I am truly thinking. I want people to think I am 'ok'. So posting, "god, couldn't get out of bed, I have no will to live, but my children forced me awake" is not going to get my desired message across. I will also occasionally think throughout the day to post what I have accomplished, but I talk myself out of  it because I am not trying to say "look at me, I'm so productive", because I can accomplish the same feeling by writing my accomplishments on a piece of paper, and feel just a productive, then throw the paper away and I cleaned up AGAIN. 

I try to be cautious in what I post because I know everyone is reading it from their perspective of me, and their emotions of their day. It seems more difficult to me to read other's emotions in their status, or shared article, or meaningful quote, than it would be to understand their emotion if they were in my living room talking to me. Just like everyone else I read everything others post through my heightened emotion. It can seem pretty harmless to the poster, but because I am working through something that day, I can be extremely hurt by a simple post that is meant to help another person, why don't I get "helpful" posts? Or a celebratory post, why is my husband's birth never a reason to recognize the wonderful child his mother brought into this world? Or just a post about a craving or indulgence, why is everyone posting about Starbucks while my husband looks for alternate ways to pay our bills? I am not under the impression that the world revolves around me... no matter how much I would like it to, it never will. At least not for EVERYONE (my boys think I'm pretty awesome). But facebook rubs that in my face. Points out that this battle I fight is completely me against the invisible demons. Shows me that it is true, you can have over 300 "friends" and still only know the middles names of 10 of them, only remember 3 or their birthdays (without facebook help), only know the daily struggles of 5 of them, and know that you can only count on maybe 8 or 9 of them being there for you when you REALLY need it.  

Sometime I wonder why I still have an account on facebook, then I see all the fluffy good advice memes, and contemplate how they apply to my life... no, not really, I judge the person who posted it, and wonder if they see the contradiction their life holds against the meme they just posted...not every time maybe, but pretty often that is my reaction. How many times do you judge people by what they post? By which agenda they support? By how many times they "check-in" at certain businesses? By their lack of an educated opinion (in your "humble" opinion)? I think that another detriment to using social media to satiate our hunger for community is we can build our own community that agrees with all of our meme beliefs. I think it eliminates the opportunity for salons, discussions, and debates. Instead we all post a meme, backed up by a website, and punctuated with a "hell yeah!" on our part. Notice I am not eliminating myself, I am guilty of fluffy memes, removing people from my feed who "annoy" me because I don't agree with them, and judging people by what they post. 

What does this whole tirade have to do with my healing journey, well, I think that it is about time that I turn my facebook into something a little more healthy for me. I feel like it is a tool to communicate with people and keep in touch with loved ones who are a bit removed from my immediate area or unable to use a phone or car to initiate communication with me. I feel like it is important for me to develop relationships outside of this social media site before people are able to view my posts. I also feel that it is important for me to censor what I am seeing. 

Please do not feel slighted if I "unfriend" you, or if you can not see my content, know it means I would like to become closer with you on real life level before we connect virtually so I know how to interpret what you post, and you can understand more what I post. 

invisible forgiveness

People like to assume that I need to forgive what has happened. This is something that seems to come up a lot. It is hard to people to know what is in another's heart, which, in my opinion, is where forgiveness resides, but the difficulty doesn't stop anyone. They still like to believe if I could just forgive my brother than all would be resolved. The whole family could get along; I could stop having anxiety; I could stop having sensory issues; and the sun would shine all the time and a smile would be plastered on my face.

I would like to think that I have forgiven my brother. I certainly do not wish ill upon him, and I obviously have not forgotten anything he has done in the past. So what would it look like for me to forgive him? In my opinion it means being neutral. I have never told my children that my brother is a bad man. I have remained neutral in my explanations to them about why I am not allowed around my niece. I do not feel any hate towards him, but I also do not feel any love. All I feel is an dull sense of duty. Duty as a sister, such that if his family is in need I will do my duty, in a comfortable way for me. So, have I forgiven him?

Let's say that this situation was different. Let's pretend I was married to a man who belittled me, told me I was worthless, and all my friends were just pity friends. Would you encourage me to forgive him daily and stay in the marriage? Now pretend I was dating a man who thought that it was acceptable to hit me if he was upset with the way I folded his laundry. Would that man deserve my forgiveness every laundry day, I mean he really does love me. Finally pretend that I am in a crowded room and there is a man I have never met who decided to take advantage of the crowd by touching me in ways that are violating, even when I ask for it to stop and try to move away he follows and continues. Should I just forgive him and allow the crowd to excuse his actions?

I am hoping that anyone reading this could agree, that in every one of those situations it would be necessary to somehow take control of the situation. In an emotionally abusive relationship, end the relationship. In a physically abusive relationship end the relationship. In a situation involving inappropriate touch, get out of the crowded room. There comes a time when the person that is uncomfortable or being hurt has to put an end to it, otherwise the abuser is winning. They are maintaining control. So for the safety and health of the abused they need to do whatever is necessary to end the relationship OR cause the cycle of abuse to end.

I would like to emphasize the OR in my last sentence. I have been urged and encouraged to END all ties with my brother. I have not listened to that advice. I have never felt like that is a decision I have been allowed to make. There are family functions to consider, what about Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving. If I walk away from a relationship with my brother, I walk away from a relationship with my family, because, well, I am the one walking away. That's not a decision a person who has such a history can make. When I already feel unimportant to the family, I want to somehow maintain my space in the unit. Even if it is not what I think it could/should be. Why? Why is that position so important? Because I have no identity without it. But I think those thoughts are for another day.

The cycle of abuse can only be ended by the abuser. Even when the physical abuse ends, that does not guarantee the emotional abuse has come to an end. Unfortunately, in a family situation, the emotional abuse can be disguised as concern, it can be defended as an act of love. The only one to determine the appropriateness of the interactions is the abused, whether their view is skewed or not. In my situation, I can not stand being told what to do. It was an intrinsic element to my abuse. I can take direction, as long as directions are given to me in a loving manner. But barking orders at me, or flat out demanding I do things a certain way will not work with me (not that I am sure it works with anyone). I am not a puppet. This is the abuse that continues as long as there is a "relationship" between my brother and I. And of course, it's because he "loves" me.

On January 9th of 2013 I got a phone call from my brother, demanding I have my baby or "my FAMILY" would be admitting me to the hospital for "proper care". I was 3 weeks and 3 days past my ESTIMATED due date, similar to the nearly 4 weeks my mom was past her date when pregnant with me. I had regular visits with my midwife, there was no reason for concern. If there was a reason for concern I would have been directed to a medical facility by my midwife. I was already in labor at this point, I had gotten a massage the night before to trigger labor. As soon as that demand came out of his mouth I began to mentally fight my body and the birth. There was NO way in hell I was going to do what he said this time. Babies coming into the world is a battle that you can't win if you decide to fight though. My baby made his way into the world. Because I fought so hard, I refused my body's desire to be in a hands and knees position all day. I refused my body's desire for my hips to move in circles. I believe this prevented my baby from being in the most comfortable position for birth. He was delivered in a posterior position, at a whopping 11 pounds, it did not work well. I ended up with excessive bleeding, and was transferred via ambulance to the hospital. Like I said, babies coming into the world is not a force to be fought.

I had a close friend accompany me to the hospital, along with my husband, and my midwife. I left the baby in the loving arms of my mother to prevent the hospital admitting him. The doctor that fixed the damage the birth caused was gentle, understanding, and very kind. Once the procedure was done I was informed that I had visitors. Surprised as I was that I had visitors, I was more surprised who it was. My oldest brother, his girlfriend, and my other brother. My oldest brother and his girlfriend, smiled and nodded, said they were happy everyone was healthy and alive, and made a few jokes. My other brother on the other hand, took the opportunity to belittle my decisions for care. Started to demand that if I am to have more children I WILL do it the "right" way and go to the hospital, and I should stop being so selfish. Of course, it's definitely his place to tell me what to do. His job to decide what is best for my health, family, and MY body.

It didn't end there. He visited in the hospital twice giving demanding lectures every time; sent me long emails telling me what to do, where I went wrong, how I was selfish, and all kinds of other very nice, encouraging comments. I let it roll off my back. I had a beautiful baby, and two amazing toddlers. I ignored him. I felt empowered from all the hormones. It was incredible. So empowered I decided to change the course of the abuse. I decided he had no power. (That obviously is not one hundred percent true, it has not worked perfectly, I am not always empowered. There have been several times I have been powerless, alone, vulnerable, and empty. But it's a work in progress.)

Then when I started to stand up for myself , tell my family I didn't want to be around him. This whole forgiveness issue came up. Can't I forgive him, and still desire to end the emotional abuse? Or do I have to go through the abuse regularly and repeatedly forgive him? Or do I have to walk away from all of it?

misguided and confused

Every time that I have tried to "deal" with my past the same responses come up. I am dismissed as attention seeking. I am asked what I want to "get" out of it all. I am accused of stirring the pot.

It hurts. It hurts a lot. Maybe I am seeking attention. As a mother, I know that means that my children are lacking something if they are doing anything in their power to get my attention. I personally do not feel that is my goal. If that were my goal, I know ways that are much more painless.  

I have thought a lot on the question of what I want to "get" out of speaking up. I want to say, my only desire is to shed light on something that happens in families every day. That would be very noble, a cause behind the chaos in my head. But really, all I can say is, I don't know what I want. It is actually probably the hardest part for me to "deal" with. I am a semi motivated person. If I have a goal, I can reach it. If I want something I can get there. But in this situation, I have absolutely NO idea what in the hell I want. Or do I?

Maybe I want to die. That will bring an end about. This is not to say I want to cease to live, or that I will take my own life. But, upon reflection, trying to discern what it is I want, I want the hurt feelings, mean words, condescension, and second guessing to stop. But as long as I breath, as long as I am a part, it will go on. So that leaves me one thing to desire. Please, don't take this as a suicide note. I have much more to live for than you will ever know. 3 sweet faces who hug me when I cry, telling me that maybe I will feel better tomorrow. Little arms that don't really understand why I just screamed when they wrapped around my thigh, but are willing to cuddle when I calm down. Little voices that say, "I love you, all the way to the end". I will not shorten my life voluntarily. No, even if I feel like that is the only thing that will solve the pain, frustration, and sadness in my body. 

Along with the one thing I know I want (that I will not get until it comes naturally) I know what I DON'T want. Stop calling me beautiful. I don't want to be attractive. I don't want that attention. Believe it or not, I don't like all eyes on me. I never have, it makes me feel dirty. I would rather hide in a group, preferably the back of a group. You don't have to believe this (what woman doesn't want to be beautiful?) but it is my truth. 

I also want the accusations to stop. Accusing me of a selective memory, or of being misguided and confused. EVERYONE has a selective memory. My abuser has decided to not have any memory of the most awful parts of my life that he was a key player in. Misguided would make it seem like someone is helping me along in this journey. I am alone. Confused is not even close to the mix of emotions I feel.

What would you do in my position? Sweep it under the rug? Walk away? Go on pretending in life that you are "normal"? How do you think I should react? Therapy? Medication? 

I really am at a loss. 

importance is important

It's been a long time. October '13 until now. I haven't taken the time to listen to myself, to write, to understand, to try. Why? Well I guess just because I'm not that important.... that is not said to receive pity, to point the finger, or to gain attention. It's true.

As long as I can remember I have been reminded that in the big picture, I just don't matter. This all relates to previous posts you know. Abusers make sure their will is what is heard. Society at a whole like to down play women as naive, less than, or just misinformed. There are two strikes against the importance I may have learned to place on myself at some point. But really, have I ever been taught to value myself? Aren't we taught as children that someone, somewhere else, has it worse than us? The children in Ethiopia who have no food, when a child does not particularly care for the food in front of them. The children who would love to have my walk-man when all I want is an iPod...

So what teaches a person they are valuable? Actions. Follow through. Listening. Genuine concern.

So you say you are sorry that most of my childhood I had a very dark secret that I was scared to death to share? Thank you, I am sorry for it too. Would you mind talking to me about it? I could really use someone to listen and possibly cry with me. Some righteous anger would be nice to see. A little bit of ice cream, a little advice, some hugs. Oh, right that would be uncomfortable because you feel bad for him too.... Got it. I will go and keep my secret to myself some more. Thanks for the initial thought though, it makes me feel really.... unimportant.

So you say that you wish I could slow down and take care of myself? Oh, you have no idea how much I agree. Could you take the boys for a few hours so I can set up my sewing room, make a hair appointment, date my husband, take a shower, or any other plethora of things I would love to do for my soul? Oh you're busy, yeah I know, we're all busy. Thanks for the concern about me taking care of myself, at least even if I am not important, I am at least thought of....

So you need my help, encouragement, or direction. Yeah, sure, when can we get together?

See, this is the pattern of my life. I have amazing friends. Some know a lot about the deep dark, have listened, have given me ice cream, hugs, and support. They have watched my kids in a pinch for me to work, shower, or any other thing that might come up.... but they are also not the ones who say trite things. None of my good friends have apologized for my experiences, they have spit with anger, told me I am beautiful and reminded me that without that I wouldn't be here. They have seen how ragged I am and offered to watch the boys for an hour, or two, or more.

So why, why am I not important? My friends did not teach me that I was UN-important, so they are having a hard time teaching me that I AM important.

I made it a year (Jan9-Jan9) without an episode of depression. Considering Liam was born on the day that my "abuser" was celebrating his own life I see this as a very good accomplishment. But all of a sudden I am surrounded by this feeling of sadness, unworthiness, just being unimportant. It's hard to shake, I will, because I am important. But it is hard, so very hard. But I will, in time.

Truth and Identity

Moms say it all the time, "tell the truth", but then at some point there may be two conflicting stories. Then what? Then does truth simply not exist any more?

When my truth was first shared with my parents and my brother said none of it ever happened, their answer is to say that they believe we are both telling the truth.

I am sure in their position it is hard to imagine one child violating the other so badly. It is hard to understand as a sibling, why another sibling would want so much control and hurt you so much in the process. The whole situation is hard, depressing, demoralizing, and  frustrating.

My truth and my brother's truth are at odds. My truth is that I experienced a series of events that were traumatizing, uncomfortable, and inappropriate. My brother's truth is that those experiences never took place. When those two truths are believed in tandem does that make the truth go away and the situation disappear? Or does it just make the victim disappear, because the second truth makes the first truth void.

My parents want me to feel supported and believed, but I feel void.
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I have been called a bitch as long as I can remember. I have recently been called a coward and vindictive. Consistently I have been told I act like my father (not as a compliment usually). My identity has been founded on these negative, and somewhat vague yet encompassing descriptors.

I have been told I am talented, a good friend, and wonderful mother. I am self proclaimed "awesome" at pretty much anything I attempt. I am sure there have been many other compliments that I just don't hear because.... well because they are void since the negative in the previous statement has been repeated often enough that it must be true.

I even identified myself as a bitch most of my high school career. Very few people were treated kindly by me. I was living up to my title. I feel awful about it now, I wish I could call all the boys I made cry by saying nasty things and tell them how sorry I am. I wish I could take back my high school years and be the gentle, loving, and helpful person I wish to truly be.
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I am told he is my brother. He was that first maybe.

But, I feel, he is my hell. He was that more consistently.

Can those ever be reconciled? 

Never Alone

All it would take would be for him to say it didn't happen, and nobody will believe that it did, except for me. I can't erase the experience. I can't make the memory go away; the anxiety; the sadness; the pain. Regardless, if the world knows, or I keep it to myself, those things will be constant.

But they will all think I am crazy if he denies it, making up stories for attention. I don't want attention. I don't want anyone to look at me, let alone pay me any attention. If I don't say anything I only have to endure the attention from him. But if I say something maybe they will write me off as crazy and ignore me and he will stop. Or it could get worse.

I could end up alone. I am there now, but what if it got worse, what if my family didn't care to try and help me. What if nobody wants to talk to me because I am crazy; and if I am not making stories up, I am a disgusting thing that has been ruined and abused. I should stay alone. I shouldn't tell anyone.

He's right, nobody will believe me anyway.

NO!

Almost everything I was afraid of that kept me quiet has come true. 

This is not the first time I have said anything about the abuse. I first brought it up to the family 10 years ago, 2 years after it had stopped. It was denied, I was brushed off, and an elephant moved in with my parents. 8 years ago my husband brought it up again, denied again. 2 years ago it was brought up by my mother, resulting in a journal retelling the events, denied again and this time I am NOT going to stay quiet. 

What happened was wrong, and it did happen. It is unfortunate, but it happened. I don't even care so much that it happened, as much as I care that HE is 'winning'. Not just in the story that is my life, but anyone's story that has an abuser. The abusers are winning, because nobody will talk about it. I am NOT alone. I will never be alone. I don't need other people to believe me to validate a memory, or make it more real. It is the choice of someone hearing (or reading) my story to believe or not. 

Since I have said publicly that sexual abuse happens and children need a safe place to talk about it,  I seem to have lost my family. It is a tragic thing. But there is a part of me that wonders where they have been my whole life. Why stop pretending now? My friends have surrounded me and comforted me, but is there ever a replacement for that feeling of family? I have always wondered what it would feel like if I were to be believed wholeheartedly and someone were to choose me over someone else. I will never know that feeling. He is more worth a family I guess. Or maybe I am just strong enough to continue on without. 

I have been called vindictive, cowardly, and delusional in the past few weeks. I have been attacked, and I have been shown that the feeling of being alone was very real. 

But I have also been called brave, empowering, and strong in the past few weeks. I have been offered shoulders that I didn't know understood, and I have seen the power of a community. I will never be alone.

I see being alone as a very real fear. While I was growing up, my dog kept me company, and my cat. They both did things to show me support. I am not sure if they did it intentionally or if there were just karmic lessons my entire life, but I am glad I was not completely alone. I have been able to speak openly to close friends for years and found reassurance that they do not find me repulsive for the things that have happened in my past. They aren't even upset with the ways I handled my emotions poorly and those were choices I made. They still love and see the present me.

I still fear being alone late at night, like right now, when everyone is asleep. I want to sleep, but I can't, because my mind will not slow down. Why did I have to be right? Why can he erase it from his past with denial but I can't? Why am I being called names? How did I find such an amazing community that will never let me be alone?

Nobody is alone in a struggle, it is just finding the person to talk to and cry with. I will find them tomorrow.