This is the hardest thing I have ever written, I would rather write about almost anything else.
I hold no grudge against my Mother and in fact I love her very much, I really doubt she ever knew the extent her words had on my self-esteem or how much they have haunted me through out my life.
Unvarnished truth is always the hardest thing to write.
I can not stop writing today.
So, I guess it is a day for writing.
I have kept so many things bottled up for so long I am afraid of starting.
Afraid of being overwhelmed with emotions.
If I boiled my childhood down to one word it would be chaotic.
Not in a good way, if there is such a thing as a happy chaotic childhood mine wasn’t it.
The fights between my parents where brutal and their was no censoring of content at all.
I was 8 when I learned that my father was having an affair(s), though no one told me directly.
It was around that same time that I learned that my mother had a child out of wedlock-my oldest sister.
Now, in today’s world that might not seem like such a big deal, but then it was a big deal.
My father would throw that fact up to my mother like a weapon and she retaliated with ammunition of her own.
Neither was above literally throwing objects at each other, nor above calling each other unprintable names as the children watched, eyes wide with fright.
All this is etched on my memory.
As was the verbal abuse, sometimes, hurled at me by my mother.
Her name for me was often stupid or I was asked repeatedly , “Why are you so stupid?”
I didn’t know, but I believed her.
I grew up to ask myself the same question, “Why are you so stupid?”
And I grew up to bristle and becoming angry at anyone who called me stupid or at anybody I thought was making fun of my intellectual abilities, whether it was rational or not.
On top of all that, I was being sexually abused by a family member.
It finally came to light when I was an adult.
He was defended by most of the family and I was made to feel ( intentionally or not) like the bad guy.
I was told to forgive.
I was told to forget.
I wasn’t told that none of it was my fault.
I did not have someone tell me that they were sorry this happened to me.
I had no defenders.
And that hurt like hell.