Skip to content

I haven’t written in so long…

I have not written on this blog in so long, I don’t know where to start. I woke up needing to write something. It has been on my mind for a while. I talked to Mom last a couple of months ago. I had arranged to (against the wants of MY family) take Mom to visit her brother and sister in Colorado and then go on to Kansas to see some cousins, etc. She backed out less than a week later. Big shock! But it was also okay. I was a bit worried about making that trip. You never know when she will act out and become a total bi***. But, one of the things she said to me on the phone bothered me enough that I just wanted to put it down on here to get it out of my head. She actually believes me about what dad (ahem) did to me from the ages of at least 3 until 15 or so. But she told me that it was a long time ago and it just didn’t matter anymore. On that she is so very wrong. It was a long time ago, as I am 59 now, but it does matter. It stole my childhood. I can’t change it, I “got over it,” but it made me into a person who still has problems from it this many, many years later. I know I will always have a trust issue because of it. I know this and try to work around it, knowing that it is there. But it doesn’t make it go away. I trust few people. And growing up as a child of sexual abuse made me odd in some ways. I know this. And people who know me well know this also. It’s okay. Lynn, Nancy, and Adam stand beside me.

 

The JERK died a couple of days ago

So, my abuser father died a couple of days ago. Finally, a release. Weird to not have any sad feeling when your own father dies….at all. He was a horrible pedophile and I was his victim. Hopefully, I was the only victim.

It took my family about 12 hours to find my phone number to tell me that he had died.  That’s funny, really. There will be no services, no funeral, nothing. Really, I am surprised that they called me at all.  I don’t know if they want me to go there or not, but I don’t want to. My children don’t want me to go. It always ends badly when I am around them. For what purpose would I go? Since about 3 hours after I found out, I have been sick as hell to my stomach. This is the first time I am up and moving around in about 36 hours. I have a feeling it is stress… feeling like I should go and knowing that I shouldn’t also. It would be impossible for me to go anywhere right now. Running to the bathroom about every 15 minutes. My body is telling me no.

And I have heard absolutely nothing from any of my siblings since I was told he died. Nothing. So, I guess that decision has been made for me. I don’t want to put myself in a situation where I will be subject to further verbal abuse by my siblings anyway. And why? I am a member of the family, but I have been on the “outside” for so long that I don’t feel like it is my family. I think that they felt obligated to tell me – that is all. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to find out that there was a discussion as to whether they should even call me to tell me that he died.

Is it all about money?

My daughter thinks all of this family drama lately is about money. Maybe. Not for me though. I have no desires. Would I like to have more money? Sure, but not at someone else’s expense. I could have (could still if I had the desire) sue the crap out of my parents for what was done to me for years and leave them with virtually nothing. I’ve known that for years. Would I? Nope. not my thing. It would be like rape money. No thanks.  Do I think my siblings might be wanting money? I don’t know. Control, yes. And we always read to follow the money and life seems to be about that. Two of my siblings think my parents should start doling out money to us. I disagree. They will probably need it to live out the rest of their lives. Would it bother me to never inherit money from them? No. It would be about par on what I have dealt with for many years. I have been the scapegoat for so long I don’t know what it would be like to NOT be. 

I didn’t go to help to get in anyone’s good graces. I was in that state to help an older woman who was having problems with the people around her NOT helping her. They had her drugged. They had her completely and totally relying on other’s who wanted to believe she was not mentally capable of doing anything. She was still paying the bills. She is the one dealing with keeping them paid, etc. And that was with horrible pain and on narcotics. I have this thing about helping people. Always have and probably always will. If you have known me long, you know this about me. My brothers, sister and parents do not know me. Really don’t. I wasn’t there last time for him either, that long five years ago. I went to help her, as she had asked me to do. What I now see is a pattern. Everyone knows I WILL help. duh. But as soon as I get things where they are a little bit manageable, I am the evil one again. This time was not different. As my kids said, I shouldn’t have gone. But, that is water under the bridge. I was trying to help. I was trying to make sure she was protected and helped as much as possible. But the family only wanted her helped to a point. Just so they didn’t have to hear and deal with her as much. So sad that we treat people this way. I never saw the sister person, but I didn’t want to either. She takes what people say or write and twists it to really odd things. The whole family knows this so it has become a thing to not ask her stuff. Mom won’t even bring subjects up when she is talking to her on the phone because you never know how she will react. She said she just waits for her to bring something up. And then you have to be so careful about what you say and how you react, including voice intonations. And this is normal? Um, no! When I was updating my two brothers and sister each day, I was careful to NEVER ever write an email to just her. I learned this five years ago. haha  My dad said something one day about now that the two of you are ok again….  I said NO. We aren’t. When you have to be so careful about every single thing you say or do to someone I want no part. I was only “keeping her in the loop” where Mom was concerned. That is all. Nothing more. I learned after I told her thank you once …  and I don’t need or want that kind of negativity or false family crap or drama in my life.  My little sister died to me a long time ago. She wanted it that way and made it quite clear that this was how she wanted it. I couldn’t do the tiptoe around her like everyone else seems to do. Nope. Not happening. She is an angry jealous adult who views the glass half empty always. Never the good side. Never. I told my husband many many years ago that I had thought about having a child for her, but was afraid to. She was too angry. Her view of life is skewed from childhood because she has been mad for years that the rest of us didn’t come and rescue her from the abusive family THAT WE WERE ALL TRAPPED IN. I did what I could do. I brought her here summers. I tried to give her the best that I could do at the time. What she has never recognized is that we were all damaged and trying to come to terms with the family and were not capable of SAVING anyone except, hopefully, ourselves. She never ever understood it from anyone else’s persepective though. The oldest child is a druggie/alcoholic who refuses to work. No one wants to spend holidays together. It’s too toxic. She is the youngest and still angry. One moved to the other side of the country and stays away pretty much. One lives in town and I think resents that he has to help out the parents. It doesn’t matter that they helped him out through the years. He wasn’t sexually or physically abused. Mentally? Probably. Just being in the toxic family did that. But we ALL were. Some more than others. Is my abuse more severe? At the time it happened absolutely. What it did to me forever is a not really. We all have the remnants of that mess. The relationships I have with people in my life do not need to be this way, though. I was most upset about cutting ties five years ago, but I was happier in the last five years. The drama and toxicity was gone. No more of the yelling and screaming. No more of the label of being the liar in the family. No more of the constant reminder of the abuser being so accepted while I wasn’t. I had been the innocent victim. I will always be the innocent victim of him. And I can never make that one right, no matter what I ever do. I never had a childhood. I did get the older teenage years during the school year, however. And maybe that is why I made it all out alive. Why I didn’t actually follow through on my suicidal thoughts those so many years ago. And I was rewarded with a loving family today. That is my happy ending!  

ooh. I am the evil one again!

Ooo. I am evil. Just had a text from my brother who decided it was his job to send my personal emails to my sexual abuser as a child. He was offended by my journal. Oh well. Tough. He is no longer speaking to me. Hmmm. Like I did anything to anyone… As usual in an abusive family, I am guilty of…. What? Writing in a journal? Saying I was tired of being used and will not go back? Oh, I know. Saying anything at all. Not keeping it all a secret. Saying my parents could eat Shi& and die in their own crap. He said he felt guilty for abusing my trust but not any longer. Why? Because I posted in my journal what he had openly sent to whomever he felt like after he had done that? Okay. No big deal. He was already not speaking to me for sending him the email suggesting mom was abused. nothing new. I have been the bad person for years. If projecting YOUR wrongs on me allows you to live with what you did, go for it. I am only responsible for me and what I have done. Not for your reactions or wrongs.

As my children say, I don’t need the negativity. Don’t like my journal? Don’t read it. Offended by it? Your problem and not mine. I have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I originally went to my parents’ house to help my mom. Not anyone else. Not the people who have ignored me for years. Not the people who have had open disdain for my children for years. My brother’s wife doesn’t even believe that my children are HER nephews and niece. This was made clear years ago. When the kids were little and we were spending our own money to visit them, I was reminded of a time when they were about 7, 8, and 11. They disagreed on something. This brother was THRILLED to see them “fight.” Weird, huh? And he actually said something to my daughter to that effect. At the time, she was 11 and told me about it because it was so odd to her that her own uncle would be so happy to see the kids disagree. Yup, they got along really, really well. And that bothered him? why? Many people commented over the years on well they got along: except my family. They always thought it was fake or odd. A normal reaction it was not. She has always viewed that particular episode as an OMG, this adult is weird. As was normal with my children in dealing with my family, she had to act as the adult in this situation. Sometimes you should NOT say what you think, especially to a child. She has never forgotten. 

If I was evil, I would copy and put the TEXT that my brother wrote to me telling me he was not feeling guilty about what he had done. He WAS about breaking my trust before he read my journal. Okay. So what?  But the old a tit for a tat isn’t really what we should all do is it?  He is cutting off ties with me. Uh huh. Did that one already. Haven’t heard crap from him or the sister since I sent my text to them. Did I put it online? Yup. AFTER he decided that my abuser could read it. And it was MY text, not his. My story. And, again, if you don’t like it, don’t read it. Embarrassed about the family. Get over it. They are what they are. I can’t change the sexual abuser. I can’t change any of it. Believe me, I would have if I could have many, many years ago. Today, it is in the past. But never ever forgotten. It can’t be, unfortunately. And I am not keeping the secret. I have told many, many people over the years. And he is the one who decided that my telling everyone ELSE needed to be told to the abuser. Live with your actions. They are yours alone and not mine. This journal has been up and active for a long time. And it will continue. 

For many years, I have wanted to write a book. I WAS waiting until my parents were gone, but why wait at this point? Really. They have already been told what OTHER people deemed was okay to tell them. Well, it’s my turn to be open now. I am tired of playing the stupid, lying older sister. I will NOT be quiet any longer. Period. I will write my book now. Whether it is ever published or not doesn’t even matter. It is something that I have needed to do for a long time. MY kind of therapy. My words. My experiences. My time living as two people as a child in a world that was NOT child friendly. I know it will probably cause me to remember more of the actual experiences. I found that out in the past. I found out odd things like why I can’t stand the taste, texture, or flavor of white toothpaste. He put it on his private parts and forced me to lick it off. Nasty as hell. Gross as hell. I was between 6 and 8 at that point. But I learned why… why I am me in the bits and pieces that I am me. Remembering the rape in an empty building by him. Remembering all of the things I was raped with besides him, including flashlights, etc. Remembering the rage. The midnight visits. The riding around in the car. Being asked over and over why the bottom half of my pajamas were ALWAYS off when I would get up in the morning. (That was before the age of 6, and is remembered all the way back to about age 3). Being told that mom wouldn’t give him what he needed, so I had to.  What an ass. What a sick person!

It was not his to confront with…

So, one of my little brothers recently decided to forward my email (you can see it in my last blog without names and places) to my abuser. Talk about freaking me out! He didn’t believe it and refused to believe that our mother could have been the victim of abuse, so he gave my email to him to my dad. OMG!  Really?  He won’t answer why except that it was about time to find out if he should believe me. (many cusswords could be put in here…) So, the a hole abuser admitted to doing SOME of the things, but, of course, not all of them. And claimed it was when he was young and didn’t know any better!  That is assinine! Hmmm. Your rapist won’t admit to rape, but he will admit to some other things. And being a young adult is now an excuse to waive guilt on the part of an abuser. What a total load of crap!  My dad’s two brothers both (BOTH) sexually abused daughters. My whole family knows that. The fact that he abused me has been openly talked about by me for years and years and years. But I am the liar?!?!?  I call complete and total BULLSHIT.

Why I believe my mother was abused too

Why I believe my mother was abused too.

Wow It’s been a long winter so far! Today is February 28th

Dorothy is going downhill a little bit every day. Her ability to walk is quickly diminishing. She falls so easily and refuses to use a walker. She doesn’t recognize that it is an ongoing problem, this walking and falling thing. Last week, she fell at the store. She couldn’t get up at all. It was closing time and I had tried to help her but she wanted to do it herself. Then, the fall. I turned around and she was on the floor and couldn’t get up. Three times I tried to get her up. It’s fairly easy but she refused. She wanted Lynn to get her up and insisted I couldn’t do it. I had her about 12 inches up each time and she would stop and force herself onto the floor. I don’t know if she was scared to get up with me or was just wanting Lynn. So, I called Lynn at work and he had to leave and come in and help her up. 

She skinned her elbow and then swore she was okay. But the next day, sometimes she was limping. Of course, that is true on almost any day. It’s amazing, but she can be limping and then not limping a few minutes apart. Sometimes I wonder if it is a play on Lynn for attention. She seems to do it around him more. And he babies her much more than I do anyway. I think she needs to do what she can as far as walking and unbuttoning  etc unassisted and we help as she needs it. I want her to maintain the few abilities that she still has for as long as she can. Lynn just wants it to be easier and faster. That’s a guy for you! LOL

Since that fall, she is complaining sometimes of her left side hurting. Again, it isn’t all of the time. Just occasionally. And I couldn’t find anything wrong. Not visible bruises, etc. She goes back to the doc in about a month and I would imagine we may do some serious talking about helping with some of the hallucinations she is dealing with every day.

She talks to the television. She talks to the pictures in the newspaper. She talks to invisible people and also sees cats and dogs, etc. on weird places in the house. She is concerned about those people and animals and, of course, really believes that they are real.

I am still frustrated with the Alzheimer’s dementia type caregiver groups and their advice. The answers to helping all revolve around allowing the person to live where they are at or in the moment. But Dementia is not Alzheimer’s. They are totally different and Dorothy’s moments aren’t what I hear about normally with the diseases. She fixates on work, money, and her son when he was 14 or so. You can’t pull her from those fixations. She isn’t in areas which make her feel good and she won’t quit, no matter what. You can’t put on music for her, you can’t talk to her when she is fixated, you can’t write to her and have her understand 99% of the time, and she is redirectable. So much of the advice for these situations assumes that the person can hear. She can’t most of the time. I say that because there are instances where she appears to be hearing, but they are rare and getting rarer each week.

The puzzles don’t seem to be working any more. Even if I sit down next to her to work on them, she doesn’t get engaged in them any more. They just frustrate her and she will take them apart and hide them. 🙂

She is “invoicing” her newspapers almost every single day now. Which is fine. They are somehow in her mind her job from Sears and she will spend hours putting them together, examining them, and then demand that they be given to someone specific. Sometimes you can convince her that you are doing that and sometimes not. So weird. 

She finally quit hitting me. One time during the holidays, I had had enough and flat out told her to quit hitting me or anyone else. It was NOT okay for any reason ever and I would not put up with it. For some reason, that stuck. I wish that I knew why, but you just can’t get inside her head most of the time to find anything out. And reason just isn’t there most of the time, at least not as we see reasoning. I’m sure it is to her.

I still say that the days are harder on Dorothy than on us. And some days that is saying a lot. It really has to be horrible to be so confused most of the time. Unlike people with Alzheimers, who go backward, Dorothy’s life is mixed up. The disease attacks her memories randomly. When my grandmother was this way, you could ask about her childhood and hear the neatest stories and find out more about her young life. Not so with Dorothy. She has it all mixed together and she hasn’t the recollection to talk about her younger life. The closest we can get is when she thinks she is 15 or so and is talking about a party she will attend. But you only get to listen. Asking anything results in it all stopping. Like she knows on some level it is all wrong. Who knows. Often still her brother is alive and living as an adult and he died when she was around 14 so I don’t know how she has managed to make him an older grown up adult in her mind.

Most of the time she still wants her husband, but most days now, she doesn’t seem to remember his name. Just the husband guy. Sad. They were so unbelievably close. 

She still looks at pictures but seldom knows who anyone is. She even took the pictures that I got at Christmas in cards, etc and believes that they are people she knows. I guess it doesn’t matter since she knows none of her family anymore in pictures either. Nor her grandchildren most of the time. 

I hate this disease. It’s awful. The only thing good about it that I can say is she has never been able to remember that LD is dead. That part is good and that is the only good thing.