A place to think... and let go
I have no idea how any of this will help. but as things have recently become a little harder to bear, I feel like crying, but have no space to do so freely at the moment. the best I can do is ramble on about what bothers me, and hope someone understands me.
I hate perfection as much as I hate failure and yet I was both at the same time. I was the favorite of my parents, but never so important that they actually tried. I could remember the days when my father would make me write and rewrite my homework until my handwriting until it was close to perfect... and even then it was not good enough. I remember the constant nights I would cry over my math homework because I was constantly distracted in class and wrote slowly which in turn earned me a few bullies. I hated my bullies and all my homework did was remind me of them so I would rush my homework, only to rewrite it and the pattern continued until I was beaten to submission. I remember complaining to my parents, only to be told I was a coward for not beating my bullies senseless and not having thick enough skin to ignore their jeers.
I have been beaten with bottles and belts, ironing boards and bicycle pumps, spoons and wires for nothing more than looking at a boy with admiration or failing to focus on my work and watched my mother cry long nights after being told she was fat as a reason my father was cheating with the twins across the street. I have watched her cook the last of the rice in the house to feed us and sat there starving until I lied about how full I was. I have stayed up late nights to watch the sunrise hoping that someone would burn the school next door so I would not have to go. I have swallowed my pain and pride as my mother told me she could not afford to switch my school to somewhere more diverse for monetary reasons, despite the fact I was showing severe signs of depression and every teacher, counselor and social worker I met begged her to do so.
I could still remember her gloating to all her friends that I was her only perfect child, I did not have anger issues like my brothers, I was not the one with ADHD, nor was I the one with hearing problems. I was the only one to never get left back, adorned by parents and teachers alike. I was the goody two shoes, the one everyone wanted to compare their child to. I was often told by others that they could not stand how perfect I was, that my smile drove them insane. it hurt they could not see my pain, but then again I worked so hard to hide it. I have never let my mother down, but I was the utmost failure to my father, being told by him many times "you are not my daughter" only for his tune to change the very next time I saw him.
I graduated High school, but had no motivation to go to college that was not fueled by making my father happy, I dropped out. I got married early to get away from my parents, but now my husband is leaving me. the pain and anguish I have held for years with little breakage is pouring out before me like a broken dam and I feel more like a failure than I ever did before. I am so far behind for a 26 year old and I have no Idea where to even start. sometimes I pray God would just end my existence so I would never have to face the failure I have become.
until I find a way to cope, all I can do is pretend I am fine. the forest has already burned to the ground, what else can possibly go wrong?
Back from another Hiatus. Trying something new in my life- learning a trade. I am secretly terrified that I will not be able to succeed. No matter how many people are excited for me, I cannot help but feel everything is hopeless in the end.
I know I shouldn't be too harsh on myself, but it is difficult to not see myself as this consistent. Failing to stay in college, and now- taking so long to try again.
It doesn't help that the woman I consider a mother to me seems very unhappy lately that I am dating her son. She doesn't say a single word about it, but it never escapes my notice the glare she gave me when last I visited. I want to confront her about it, but I am unsure how. There is always something that gets in the way, too many listening ears, not enough courage, not knowing the words to use. It causes me to wonder if I'm doing something wrong dating him. I know she has every reason to hate me, it is her son after all, but perhaps I was hoping she would have been less angry given that she liked me well enough before? There is nothing I can do about how she feels, which is a little frustrating. There is no controlling those feelings. I could say the same about how I feel about my current boyfriend, but only time will tell in that area.
I haven't told my boyfriend about it. I have no doubt he has already run a gauntlet with her at length about the whole situation and honestly, we are at this point just dating, there isn't a ring on my finger or anything I feel like I am taking everything too seriously.
Hit another wall it seems.
Just when I thought things in my life were looking up, there comes a cascade of difficult issues and situations that I am forced to deal with at the same time. Medical mysteries, losing a recently earned promotion, a trip that was a disaster from start to finish.
I am pushing forward as best as I can. I realize things could be much worse, but that knowledge does nothing to ease the pain or feelings of dread. I feel like that would be invalidating my own emotions.
Not everything is in ruin, despite losing my promotion and a hefty salary with no reason given, I do still have a job. I am able to pay some portion of my bills. I was looking forward to getting my own place and not having to share an apartment anymore, I want so desperately to be more financially stable and free from some of the stress I am under now.
It is just too much for me right now. I do have an appointment tonight for all the stuff I have going on right now, I may add one for tomorrow to my therapist, it's been a minute.
often I cannot sleep because my mind refuses to rest. I find everything from wild ideas to past memories that keep my mind spinning on and on until I distract myself with videos on the web or a podcast or just-loud-enough-not-to-annoy-me white noise.
Yesterday was particularly bad with an awful memory of a cousin I despise. I have no good memory of him but since being demoted that old curse of his has been bouncing around in my head at night time.
T never liked me (5 yo) or my brother J (4yo) (The only sibling at the time). The first time we met him, he promised to beat us on the first night he babysat us. We were terrified. Each night we had night terrors, we had no idea what we did to earn the ire of someone we had just met. That Thursday, He had my brother and I on our knees, our backs facing him with belt in hand. He never hit us that night, but laughed for a full half hour as he snapped the belt occasionally to keep us frightened. My brother J is now a fearless ***, very little has scared him since that day.
T was always calling us "useless wastes of space that will never amount to anything" in this memory, I had finally had enough because J, started crying and I finally stood up to T and declared that we were not useless. I was beat mercilessly that day, slapped, whipped and yelled at each time I denied his accusation.
it took an hour before I gave up responding to him, but my brother Joel took my bravery to heart and stood up in my place, cautioning him that he would tell our mother about his abuse, but T was not afraid, mother never did anything about our complaints about him. She thought we were exaggerating, as little children do. That it could not have been that bad. She needed a free babysitter anyway and he was all my mother had at the time. She could not afford to leave us home alone and Joel's ADHD meant no one ever wanted to watch us "miserable children"
We were not free of his tyranny until my maternal grandmother moved to the states to help my mother who was about to give birth to my brother G I just turned 6 yo at the time. his reign of terror was over, but we still had our run ins with him when he would visit, though he kept his disdain minimal, we may have hated our grandmother for how strict she was, but in hindsight, she was the only one protecting us when the rest of our family failed to do so. she did not tolerate T's behavior.
I've seen very little of him in recent years, word on the grapevine is that two of his ex's "fell down the stairs" and broke their arms and he has a daughter of his own which has caused him to mellow a little. He lived with my mother for a while when his baby mama kicked him out and he has since gotten back on his feet. I have refused to ask him about the past the few times I have seen him and neither has J.
