(no subject)
Thirty years have passed and what have I done? Well let's see I remembered what you did to me; how you touched me and kissed me and yet I am "suppose to be" happy to see you, tell you I love you when all the while I am hiding.
My "real self" the one you wounded beyond repair, is hidding. What she is waiting to come out for I have no idea. She wants you gone. Gone from the house, gone from her life; no more kissing, no more touching. I thought my mom hated me so I couldn't tell her; so I turn to food; tv, anything that will alter my perception of reality; alter my pain!!!
Thank God I found alcohol when I was 12, you and I had my first drink, actually my first drunk together; man that sure was living the life wasn't it? My and my dad, my best friend in the whole world (at that time) sitting at the kitchen table on 9th Street drunk as skunks...
is this real or have i made it up? You seem to think my whole life is made up; what if it is?what if you really are as great and wonderful as i believed that you were all those years? I couldn't understand why you seemed like so many different people all the while i get shoved down deeper and deeper to parts unknown you seem to be having a great time
bitching cuz my mom is never around and yet telling her how proud you are of her and to keep up the great work, which did she believe? she stayed away from the house because of your drinking and probably too because of what you were doing to your daughter(s) and she left us there to deal with a drunk, molester
thoughts today go through my mind like "why couldn't i have done something to stop you?" i thought we had such a great relationship; what i didn't know at the time is that you didn't have a great relationship with anyone especially yourself...
so 30 years have passed and what have i done?
i have taken her out of hiding, i have become the "safe place" for her to come and visit and share with me; all the hurt, all the pain; I am the person who is saving her because you can't; even though that is a parent's real job, it's too late you can't save me know. There will never, ever be a "safe place" in you or mom ever again because she has told me everything she can remember and its real scary and you caused it and she does not have to live in the fear or the hurt or the lack of trust or the pain anymore
thirty years is a long time to carry your bag of garbage and she does not want to do it anymore
does she forgive you? at some level she does and then she sits and wonders how someone could forgive something like that? all those years I always thought it happened to "other people" other little girls and now, to find out i am one of the "other little girls" she does forgive you; she just can't say she loves you yet because she still feels the pain; she wished you a happy birthday today and again i am very, very proud of her. she is speaking to you again; and she just wishes that you would understand why its sooo hard for her to define her relationship with you; she wants to be an adult around you and yet she always comes running back to me a scared, hurting, unhappy little girl cuz you still don't understand.
i will take care of her i promise and she will be alright and one day she will be able to say she loves you of that i am sure. Later
(This felt like I was truly writing in the third person. When I got done my body physically felt very strange; like I had just come back from somewhere. I am learning how to allow all the pieces of me to speak about what my father did, it's interesting and I love it when it's done because it feels like I am becoming whole somehow through the process).
My "real self" the one you wounded beyond repair, is hidding. What she is waiting to come out for I have no idea. She wants you gone. Gone from the house, gone from her life; no more kissing, no more touching. I thought my mom hated me so I couldn't tell her; so I turn to food; tv, anything that will alter my perception of reality; alter my pain!!!
Thank God I found alcohol when I was 12, you and I had my first drink, actually my first drunk together; man that sure was living the life wasn't it? My and my dad, my best friend in the whole world (at that time) sitting at the kitchen table on 9th Street drunk as skunks...
is this real or have i made it up? You seem to think my whole life is made up; what if it is?what if you really are as great and wonderful as i believed that you were all those years? I couldn't understand why you seemed like so many different people all the while i get shoved down deeper and deeper to parts unknown you seem to be having a great time
bitching cuz my mom is never around and yet telling her how proud you are of her and to keep up the great work, which did she believe? she stayed away from the house because of your drinking and probably too because of what you were doing to your daughter(s) and she left us there to deal with a drunk, molester
thoughts today go through my mind like "why couldn't i have done something to stop you?" i thought we had such a great relationship; what i didn't know at the time is that you didn't have a great relationship with anyone especially yourself...
so 30 years have passed and what have i done?
i have taken her out of hiding, i have become the "safe place" for her to come and visit and share with me; all the hurt, all the pain; I am the person who is saving her because you can't; even though that is a parent's real job, it's too late you can't save me know. There will never, ever be a "safe place" in you or mom ever again because she has told me everything she can remember and its real scary and you caused it and she does not have to live in the fear or the hurt or the lack of trust or the pain anymore
thirty years is a long time to carry your bag of garbage and she does not want to do it anymore
does she forgive you? at some level she does and then she sits and wonders how someone could forgive something like that? all those years I always thought it happened to "other people" other little girls and now, to find out i am one of the "other little girls" she does forgive you; she just can't say she loves you yet because she still feels the pain; she wished you a happy birthday today and again i am very, very proud of her. she is speaking to you again; and she just wishes that you would understand why its sooo hard for her to define her relationship with you; she wants to be an adult around you and yet she always comes running back to me a scared, hurting, unhappy little girl cuz you still don't understand.
i will take care of her i promise and she will be alright and one day she will be able to say she loves you of that i am sure. Later
(This felt like I was truly writing in the third person. When I got done my body physically felt very strange; like I had just come back from somewhere. I am learning how to allow all the pieces of me to speak about what my father did, it's interesting and I love it when it's done because it feels like I am becoming whole somehow through the process).