Talking to my mother yesterday was bitter-sweet.
I didn’t tip-toe around the fact that my father died and I told her it was the best experience I have ever had knowing my father. I wonder how she feels? I wonder if she feels badly that she kept us from my dad our whole life? I feel angry. I feel at a loss. I know my time with my father was the best gift I could have ever been given but I am angry it was cut short again, short like it was after I was born.
Who shall I be angry at? Right now my frustration is at the world. I don’t been the orbiting mass around the sun we call earth, I mean the vibration pull I seem to have.
When I went out the other day with my friend I talked about my marriage and how it ended, my dad and how we met three years ago and how he died, the few people I have met out here that I feel I can relate to, my alcohol addiction. I touched on the abuse my sister and I went through along along with my sisters, mom, step-mom and brother. We talked for three hours and believe me, I got a good synapses of her life too. She is a good person to have in my circle, I am blessed she is my friend.
Towards the end of the night she told me how much she misses her father and how much she means to him. She is one of four and she had a special “daddy’s girl” relationship with him. I listened intently, I wanted to understand her dynamic with her father as well as the other members of her family for that matter. Then she stopped in the middle of her sentence and said she was sorry. I asked her why? I thought I might have missed something she said in her story…
She apologized for talking about her father and asked me if I wanted her to stop. At that moment my eyes welded up, I forgot about my life for a moment and wanted to understand where she was coming from. She out here with her husband the same month I did, leaving her family and life behind. I feel she completely understands where I am coming from. I told her it was totally fine she was talking about her father and to continue but my heart became heavy. I was so thankful I was able to forget about my problems for a few hours but the reality that my father is no longer here hit me like I just found out. As I type this my body trembles.
When I was a child, the French man who abused me and my twin sister use to mentally screw with our heads at times before he would beat us. The time and place of abuse was anything but routine. There were times tho, when he would tell me to go upstairs to my room and wait for a “punishment”. So I would go to my bedroom, hands under my butt, sitting on the edge of the bed and wait to get beat. At times I felt like he made me wait half the day. My bedroom was closest to the stairs so I hears every step creek. I remember trembling, like I am trembling now. It use to happen daily after I left my mom’s house and met my grandparents but after quite a few years of therapy it rarely occurs. I am actually settling more now. I think I got out all I can today.
One of my blogging friends commented on a post and said he read through all of my blogs and thinks I am at my lowest point. First of all, thank you for reading all of my blogs….as I look back I see I have experienced life because of my choices but I have lived. I have been off antidepressants for three or four months how and have not been suicidal or had any type of major depressed thoughts. I am tired right now, emotionally and mentally. The weather has hit my body hard the last few weeks. I am struggling with balance and emotional stability but I keep going and I maintain healthy relationships for the most part. When I think of where I am it all comes down to this.
My heart is broken but I see how it is healing, slowly. With everything that has happened throughout my whole life- my blog’s have just started touching on what I have experienced- I question to the core of my being, why I am here and what am I doing it for?
Thank you for reading friends.
Like a lot of the blogs I write, because of the emotional content I regurgitate in them, I am going to post as is. I don’t like to re-read blogs, especially those that talk about the abuse.