So today all hell broke loose in my brain, or my emotional center, or somewhere. One moment everything was fine, and the next I was in tears on my way back from McDonalds. Not that I ate anything, it was a routine drive to get chicken nuggets for Cal, but all of a sudden it occurred to me that I had a pretty damn fine childhood up until my brother screwed it up for me. I know there were anger issues with my Dad, and my Mom was pretty much checked out and left us up to our wiles. But isn't that pretty normal? The anger that welled up in me was ferocious, and wild, and consumed me.
I lived next door to my maternal grandparents who doted on us kids, I had the run of a huge back yard in the winter months, and I mean three lots wide huge, and Lake Arrowhead all summer long. And driving home this afternoon the rage at thinking of what I had lost just erupted and I had nowhere to put it. I was driving with a three year old in the car and had to keep my shit together. And I continued to keep it together all afternoon. Not eating, not yelling at anyone, but just simmering. All Day. Just starting to piece together how those experiences changed the way I felt about myself, how they stripped away my self esteem and confidence and changed me for almost ever.
Now I am exhausted, locked up in my bedroom slash office, and have just finished up my accounting work for the day, and I think I will finish up those tears now too because it's just not healthy to keep them in any longer. I weep for the little girl who hung from the pecan tree, and for the way she was misused by her brother over the next few years. I can't remember everything, like exactly when the molesting started, but I remember when I stopped it. Not the age exactly, maybe 11? 12? Just the memory of pushing him off of me and ignoring him as he complained I couldn't leave him that way. Such an ugly thing, and my anger repressed for so long. All told I am guessing the abuse only lasted a couple of years. Only a couple? Shit.
So I cry for that little girl, and let her know how sorry I am that I couldn't protect her, and that it wasn't her fault, and that I love her so much. And the work I have to do now is with her protector, letting her know I can take care of myself now, that I'm not in any danger, and that it's okay to feel everything. I don't need to eat when emotions are surfacing - I can handle it.
And I cry for the woman I might have been. What a waste. What a shame. At this point I'm just going to go lay down and cry it out. I don't need to leave my room; I have tea and can put on a Hallmark movie.
It just all makes me so sad. But this is the work, and I will be better for it. Just not tonight.
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