Cliff’s Notes

My truth is hard. To sum it up I was a terrible kid. I was terrible even very young and my family cast me out. Collectively. I was too much. They were “good” and I was ‘bad” at 5 years old. At 10. 15. 40. Any time I am “too much” I am disposable.

When I was born, I stayed in the hospital for some time, I was sickly. When I got out, I hated to be held. I cried. I balled myself up and tried to “fall” out of people’s arms. I was allergic to everything, ugly as hell and the OBGYN that delivered me committed suicide.

My mother was raised by a mentally ill mother, so she pretty much took care of herself and her mother. I guess when I came along, defective, I assume she vowed to not do this again and focus on those who were most likely to become like her. Perfect.  Looking back at this I would much rather have been loved by a sick mother than hated by a perfectionist.

It sucks growing up disposable. Your parents hate you so you assume everyone does and you end up hating yourself.

I did everything I could just to be loved. I had no idea how to do this. I still don’t.  I have struggled with sensory issues my whole life and am just now able to identify what is causing the sense of panic, which in a child causes a tantrum or misbehaving. I didnt talk, I pointed and grunted and was a general pain in the ass.  I have an autonomic dysfunction. I know that now, didn’t then.

Yes, my parents took me to psychiatrists. It started at 5 years old.  But I was also put into foster care twice, a girl’s home, and the streets. Sexual assault has been a constant theme in my life since as far back as I can remember but I have never had anyone I could tell. I was “bad”or “crazy” “a liar.” Worse, i felt I deserved it.

Fact is, I was not any of that, I was damaged.

I left my family early (14) as I was never accepted. Struggled. Came back.  I thought that I had to do something to make THEM love ME.  I apologized for all of my mistakes. I spent years showing them who I am. Over 15 years I have been an upstanding member of society. I haven’t even gotten a speeding ticket. Sought treatment for my PTSD and anxiety. Got a college degree, had a fab job and raise my children. One of which is very similar to me. He has autism. At 17 he is still with me. That is a triumph. Because no matter how hard life gets, he knows I love him, so very much. He could never be less than. My kids, who are polar opposite are loved and will always be loved. They must be parented in different ways but the rules are the same. It is all about approach.  I cannot imagine not giving every cell in my body’s energy to help them.  We don’t have much money right now because I am sick, but we function as a unit. I am very thankful for them and that I have learned a healthy way to love.

I am a loner, I don’t trust people. I am scared of humans in general. That being said about a year and a half ago I was yet again sexually assaulted. By someone I was introduced to by my sister.  After he did this to me she admits to me she knew he was like this, he did something similar to her… I wasn’t mad until I remembered she told me to tell him something about my past that could have provoked this. I don’t know how other people react but this has happened so much that I obsess over every detail to figure out wtf I did to cause this shit…

I did not want to tell my parents about what happened. I didn’t want to tell anyone. I’ve never told anyone before. I was absolutely right to not tell because after I told her- I had to tell my fucking boyfriend, the police, my parents, my friends, the news, my children, the court, a lawyer, a fucking shrink. Testify.  Telling is the right thing to do but holy shit. Must we be victimized again and again?????

Plus all of the shelved shit of the last 30+ years. Every assault ties to the others. This last one broke the shelf. I went bat-shit crazy for a long time, again.  For fucks sake, am I bait? When is the cut off in age for sexual assault? I’m in therapy now, its cool. EMDR is fantastic. Look that shit up.

Moving forward a few months of hell. I am now physically sick. I am always sick in one way or the other, so I wait it out. Maybe its just Kidney stones. Maybe I’m stressed from finals, maybe my kid’s med change… I have a deadline day of the Monday after Mother’s Day. I go to the ER. I am having problems with my uterus. It needs to be removed. I have a Hysterectomy on a Wednesday.  I leave my daughter with one of my sisters because she is scared to be alone.  I find out after I get home, that the sister that had told me so self-righteously to talk to my kids about drugs had been the first to do so, she offered my thirteen year-old daughter fucking Ambien!!! Apparently it is a thing to take Ambien fight sleep and drink a bunch of alcohol. It makes you do silly shit. Then take diet pills to wake up and do it again.  Sounds like a great time, on a Wednesday, with a thirteen year old.

I am starting to realize that maybe what I thought was good is bad.

After the Hysterectomy my whole body starts to fall apart. I have infection after infection. I was on several rounds of Cipro and Levaquin. My stitches aren’t holding, my clotting factors are going up, I am developing hernias and adhesions. It has been almost a year and I still cannot have a thing touch my stomach.  The antibiotics have shredded my connective tissue and exacerbated a condition to the point of disability and finally diagnosis. I have no job, limited mobility, major allergies to food, heart problems an array of health conditions and guess who decides I am too much work again?

Yes, that family I worked so hard to get back in, to be good enough for is not here. A-fuckin-gain. When I got the call from the doctor to get back in here now, I was panicking, I called my sister, the one who introduced me to the predator, to talk to me so I could drive, calm my panic, she screamed at me. That was the day I got my diagnosis of a debilitating life sentence.

Not only did they ghost me, they sullied my name, took my house and have kicked me while I am down in every way possible. I am now “bad” again.  Why couldnt they just leave? Why must they take everything with them? Everyone? What is there to gain? It doesn’t make any sense to me.

Despite the fact that I have done nothing but grow and become a decent human being.  When I called asking for advise, I was told to go to someone else. FUCKING who? WTF is family for?!?!  I need support. Mature advise.

Encouragement. Love. Not money.

Life seems pretty simple. I havent always been the best person but I have grown into a great adult. DO unto other’s and shit… All of the things I was told as a child now that I practice are not true. I dont understand. I thought family was ride or die. Forever. Sickness and in health.

What does a family gain when they destroy one of their own?

I didnt think this was what our family stood for- at the big family dinners when I was a kid, I don’t remember drama. I don’t remember all of the cat fights and pettiness. Jealousy. Comparison. Maybe I didn’t see it. Maybe I still see things through rose-colored glasses.

I never faulted them for much. Sometimes it still hurts and I wonder why they cant love me. Honestly, I believe they just dont have it, the capability. It is not there. They can only support and be kind when conditions are optimal. No storms. It is like the blind leading the blind.

What I have realized is god must be protecting me from them. I am special. I am strong. I am not empty. I am not broken. I am beautiful inside. I do not belong in a place where the exterior-money and objects are what determines right from wrong.

I left a long time ago for a reason. All of the lies and betrayals are coming out. It stings. All of the people who were never real are gone. Sometimes that need to be accepted by THEM is strong. I still wonder why they dont love me. Why I am not lovable. Especially now that I am sick and alone, but I am fighting everyday. I am starting to realize what I am, how strong I am and love MYSELF. Working to get better and learn to live my life as it is now.  I am not broken, I am just bent, a lot.

Everyone likes to hear the stories about people overcoming adversity, not many have the balls to participate. Unless it’s a tax write off or on their college applications.

Follow me, watch one happen in real-time.

People like me do not break.

That must be why I have EDS- I’m flexible.

Just in case you didn’t know this: No kid is bad. EVER.

Much love and gentle Zebra hugs.

 

 

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