Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Bringing light to the darkness.

I've been having a dream lately of a childhood memory.
I was at the park beside my house playing on the jungle gym that was fashioned like a covered wagon, only not covered.
I turn around and there is a man on the opposite side of the jungle gym, I knew this man back then but his face is absent from my dream, and memory. 
He's holding on to the top of the bars leaning in and says "why did you tell your parents? why did you lie to them?" 
Frozen I say " I didn't lie."
I try to move to one side and he mirrors my actions. I jump off the end of the jungle gym and I run to my neighbors house, I bang on the door and ask if my friend Billy is home. I remember sitting in his living room while he watching some TV show and I kept looking at the window scared to look outside, I eventually fall asleep on the floor until one of my parents comes to get me, though I'm not sure which one it actually is.
 
That really happened, in real life. In my real life. I was very very very young. I'm not sure why I was allowed to play outside all by myself at that age..... but I was.
 
I'm not sure why this dream has been occurring. I'm not sure why I relive those moments.
For a long time growing up I was never sure if these were real memories, or just dreams I remembered for so long.
Maybe I always knew they were real but my conscious mind wouldn't let me really accept them.
 
To this day a lot of it is still blank. I remember playing with my friend I can't remember her name though. She had the best doll house, and I was always so jealous of that doll house. I had never owned one even though I had an absurd amount of barbies. I remember going into her dads room and then it's blank. I don't remember the leading up to his room, I don't remember what happened. I remember talking to my mom in my room at night, and I remember being scared. I remember my 'safety picture' it was a picture of apple trees in green grass. And I remember the feelings I had, embarrassment, guilt, sadness. All those emotions changed into anger as the years went on.
Tho I never knew where all the anger came from. I was never sure if anything I remembered was real. No one talked about it. No one mentioned anything. It was as if it never happened.
But I knew something was wrong with me. And I never could tell exactly what it was.
 
 
Years later I confided in what I thought was a friend. I sent her an email about what happened to me tried to explain things.... I needed to tell someone I needed to talk about it, I needed for there to not be a deafening silence around this.
Later on that friend, posted my email to her, on a blog she owned. Mocking me. making fun of my spelling errors and what had happened to me. She posted it for everyone to see.
I regretted telling her, i regretted confiding in her, the first person I talked to about this... ever.
Now, I didn't know who knew, who read her mean, hurtful post.... my email. I secretly never wanted to go back to school. But I'm not one who ever backs down or runs away defeated.
 
Over the next few years I told a few people, people who experienced similar things, people who needed someone to relate to, to confide in. I wanted them to know I knew how they felt.
Only, Its different. Its different because I can't remember the details. Its different because I only have the aftermath that is left inside me. The brokenness is all I know. I just cant remember the incident(s) that broke me.
 
 
The last year and a half  I have had to deal with more then one occurrence that has brought all of this rushing back. flooding me in an instant and I am frozen in the moment. I relive a lifetime in a few minutes. 
 
I don't know how to handle these sorts of things. I know what I went through and I know what it brings but I feel the proper steps were never taken in my case when I was very little and unable to take those steps myself. When I was unable to form the correct thoughts and voice my own opinion on the matter. So when I am faced with something so strong and it is left in my hands to choose the path we proceed I feel helpless. I don't want to do the wrong thing, I don't want to miss step, Its to fragile a situation to make even the slightest wrong move, it could set forth a change that will last a lifetime, a change that is not always for the best.
My immediate reaction is completely and utterly emotion based so I have to sit back and detach myself from it so I can think with the clam clear mind, but that feels wrong in a way.
 
I also feel that it is wrong that I can't remember. Shouldn't I remember? Why do so many people have these memories they have to deal with and I was the 'lucky one' who can't remember who can only feel what is left. When I think about it, it makes me feel guilty.
 
 
I decided years ago that I was not going to let my brokenness run my life, but I've come to realize it's not something I can control. It's who I am. It has molded me into the person I am today as did everything about my past, good and bad. I am emotional tho mostly I harnessed my anger and use it to fuel my determination in anything I did, now I try to control my anger instead of letting it control me. I'm a fierce fighter when I feel the fight is worth it. I can be completely indifferent when i choose to be. I am always their for anyone I call a friend, I will bend over backwards for any one of them if they truly need help. I have proven that time and time again. I love Matt and my children with a fierceness I never thought I could. I would and will fight tooth and nail for my family.
As i grow older I learn more about myself, I learn more of what I am capable of. But I also learn to accept when I need help. I'm taking steps to be a better me so I can be a better mommy, a better girlfriend, a better friend and a better person in general.
 
I'm sure I will write more about this sort of topic in the future, I have a lot of it inside of me, and a lot I have never shared with anyone. It's very hard to let people see inside the brokeness.Especailly when on more then one occastion I have been mocked by people I once trusted.

1 comment:

  1. "I also feel that it is wrong that I can't remember. Shouldn't I remember? Why do so many people have these memories they have to deal with and I was the 'lucky one' who can't remember who can only feel what is left. When I think about it, it makes me feel guilty."

    Honestly, I know what really happened to me. I stopped remembering the details a long time ago though. It's part of your brain's way of surviving. It locks things up and keeps them in your subconscious mind so that you can still go through your daily tasks like changing diapers and hugging/kissing your children. It even helps you do things like talk to your children and maintain relationships that would otherwise suffer if you were to be crippled by said memories. It is certainly not a bad thing that you can't remember, and eventually, we all push it to the back of our "lock box" so we can move forward with our lives. Never feel sorry for your will to not merely survive, but actually live.

    ReplyDelete