Don’t let the title of this blog fool you. I’m purging secrets that need to be purged…and I’ve become quite good at it…FINALLY. This post will be all over the place and I do apologize for that.
I will warn you ahead of time….I cuss like a sailor, so if cursing offends you, I do understand, but at the same time…this is me, being me…being real. I’m getting back into blogging for my own sanity. My therapist has also said it might be good for me to do, or to write a book about all the crazy shit that I call my life.
You see, the secrets that I have…I put them in this nice, neat little box and stuffed them away. I even tied them up with a pretty little bow. I thought by doing this and pushing them so deep down inside that they would never, ever come back. That I could hide the truth forever. But it doesn’t work that way. It never does, does it?
Oddly enough I just put on my earbuds and turned on Pandora, and The Cure- Pictures of You is the first track up. While this song in no way condones or even has anything to do with the shitty things I’ve been through…it’s also sort of fitting for what I’m purging right now. I wish this shit wasn’t my life…that it never happened…but it did, and it’s real and it’s MY TRUTH. Like it or not…it happened, it freaking hurts….it hurts like hell. But I am ALIVE, and although I do curse like a sailor, I also believe in God, I believe that there is a plan for me. Why else would I go through this crap, and live to tell it. But maybe that’s just it, maybe I’m supposed to tell it, maybe that’s my purpose. I think we all struggle to know our purpose, why we are here…well here’s what I know part of mine is.
My purpose, I think, is first of all to be a mom…to the most incredible child I’ve ever known. Somehow, as screwed up as I am, she’s not. She’s the bravest, kindest and smartest kid. Somehow she’s good, somehow she LOVES everyone and everything and she’s mine. I helped make her…she’s part me, so I must be good, in some way. Secondly I think the other part of my purpose is to help others with all of this shit that has happened to me.
So here goes…some of you know this…some of you don’t. This WILL hurt. This will hurt those of you who didn’t know any of this. It’s not meant to hurt you, and trust me, it hurt me and still hurts me a hell of a lot more than it does or will hurt you. I’ve been through a lot…I’m not a victim…I’m not a survivor….I’m just a woman who has been to hell and is on her way back from there.
So my first secret…I can finally let all of it out, because for 29 years I was protecting my family. My parents, my cousins, my friends, my family unit. But a few weeks ago, I finally told my dad the biggest and darkest one of all, which we will eventually get to. But let’s start small. Since my earliest of memories, I was abused by my brother. He was as many of you know 6 years older than me, and a lot bigger than me. My first memories of him are of him reminding me daily of how I was a mistake and not wanted. How I ruined his life the day I was born. Punching me in the face, spitting on me, shooting me with a BB gun. Constant verbal, mental and physical abuse.
Since I purged the huge secret to my Dad a few weeks ago, I can say that my physical pain has lessened. It was so freeing to let it out, to finally tell my Dad just why I am so fucked up now. Why I’m in constant therapy…why I have PTSD. I’ve been through a lot in my 40 years. I’ve experienced more trauma than most…and most of it clustered between the ages of 11 and 28.
For years I acted out in such ways that I kind of was ashamed of myself for what I did. But now, I just own it. If you know me, well, you know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about my “freedom” stage of life. I was a walking, living and breathing Woodstock, love was free, I was giving it, taking it, and doing whatever I could, whenever I could. I’m not exactly proud of it, but I did it, and I am who I am because of it. And if you were on any end of it and I hurt you, I’m sorry. You and I both had no idea just how fucked up I really was at that time.
According to many of the therapists I’ve seen as well as doctors, I have PTSD mainly because of my brother’s death. It wasn’t something that was expected, and I most certainly did not want to be there as it happened. I can tell you that if you are not ready to watch someone’s last breaths, I definitely do NOT recommend doing it…it will change you to your core. It caused me to have ulcers, severe anxiety and panic attacks and it just f-d me up beyond belief. Mainly because I was watching all of the horrible things he’d done to me flash before my eyes, it was almost a relief to know that although I had forgiven him for those things…that they would be leaving with him, when his soul left his body all of those atrocities would be gone finally….or so I thought.
You see those things I put in that pretty little box. One day they decided to come out…one by one, over the past almost 8 years. These ugly little secrets have been destroying me.
Abuse does some pretty terrible things to you…and when you suffer through it during your developmental years it really does some serious damage. I was a pretty happy kid overall, and I’m really quite well-adjusted considering everything. I don’t want anyone to hate my brother or my parents for any of this. This purge is mainly to help me, and to help anyone who is going through it or just trying to understand someone better.
My brother beat me most of my life. He would lock me in my bedroom for hours, not even letting me out to go to the bathroom. He would walk by and punch me in the face for no reason. Scream in my face and spit on me. Tell me how he hated me, constantly.
Imagine your older sibling projecting their hate on you on an almost daily basis. Now imagine, that one day you have to take care of them, because they are sick and dying. Now imagine watching them take their last breath. Could you be ok after that? I know I haven’t been. I know that it broke me the day he died. It broke me in ways that I cannot even begin to explain. I did love my brother, and I still do, after all he did. He did have good parts, although I think most of him was broken for some reason, too.
I could write so much, because there is so much to tell. I will get around to all of it…just not tonight. Feel free to ask any questions…I’m very open about all of this…I’ve gotta be to heal.