captivatingbitter

     Talking to my mom today sent me into a tail-spin. I hate that I am so afraid of being “found out” like I am doing something wrong and have something to hide…  I hate that just speaking to my family on the phone has the power to make me doubt my past and begin to see it through their eyes.  I came from a family of “brush it under the rug”.  They are great at pretending that everything is ok and we’re not really broken in the extreme.  Most of my life my dad yelled and screamed and belittled all of us and my mom just took it and let us take it. 

      I remember one night when I was a little girl, my parents had put me to bed.  I got up to get a teddy bear off my shelf to sleep with and had curled up in bed and was just drifting off to sleep when my dad burst into my room, angry.  He asked me if I had gotten out of bed and I told him I had gotten up to get a bear to sleep with.  He asked me if I had left the room and I hadn’t.  He then accused me of sneaking out of my room to watch through the cracked door as my brother changed clothes.  He was crazy angry and accused me of lieing when I denied this.  He beat me with a belt so badly I had whelps from the backs of my knees to the small of my back.  He was in a blind rage.  My mother came in afterword to ask me if I had done this and I told her the same thing I told my father.  She told me it would make things better if I apologized to my father and just said that I had done this thing he accused me of.  So I did and my dad pulled me into his lap and hugged me and told me he loved me.  I don’t even know why, to this day, he would think I would be watching my brother dress or undress or why it would have been a big deal as we were both very young… I was about 6  and my brother was about 9-10.

    When I was a teenager I confronted my parents about this and they both denied the whole thing and told me I must have imagined it.  My whole life they have managed to make me feel crazy…  Now I just want to live in truth and not brush anything else under the rug.   I am through pretending.   I long to walk in the sunshine and feel the warmth on my skin.  I long to live in truth.  I may not be perky and happy all the time, but I am real and alive, and that is so much better to me.