When I was a child I looked at the world very differently, it was all about me, me, me. My brothers and sisters were mean, they picked on me, they gave me a hard time about a lot of silly little things. They took enjoyment in my suffering when they scared me half to death on purpose. My mother and father were evil people who took enjoyment in torturing me, claiming they were raising me right when no other child (other than my siblings) were treated so poorly. No other child was beaten with a leather belt or a metal yardstick, no other child was kicked or had their hair pulled or was stuffed into a closet to sit in time-out. I was a poor pitiful little girl and all I could think was
Now that I have grown up I still ask "why me?" but now it's in a different light. I understand now that my brothers and sisters were only having fun and they really meant me no harm, I was just the smallest so I was the easy target. I also realize I was not the only child getting beaten, whipped and locked in closets. I even realize that my abuse was minor compared to so many others...other children actually get killed by their parents because they are so badly beaten or shaken that they can not live any longer, their little bodies just can't take any more and give up. Who is better off?? Those that died and went to live in a better place? The ones who didn't have to suffer at their parents hands any longer? or me who lived day after day until FINALLY someone came and took me away from the nightmare and I got to live in a "normal" world where kids aren't hit but are still punished. A world where you get grounded instead of smothered with a pillow, a world where parents may yell but they never raise a fist to your face.
I like to believe it was me that was the lucky one, because even though I suffered greatly and I have emotional scars that are still gaping wounds some days, I'm still here, still alive and able to be a good mom, able to be a good wife, able to simple be!
I'm kinda fuddled today, I spend most my days lately worrying about my sister. Older sister #2 is my bestest, bestest friend in the whole wide world! She's only 3 years older than me, I was there for the birth of her first 2 children, there to help her out when they were born and there the day we both got drunk off our arses and snuck out of our foster home practically killing ourselves because we were sneaking out the second story window lol We got separated for a bit when I spoke of our past openly at school, she moved on, I moved on and facebook brought us back together. Now we text eachother daily, we talk on the phone, we facebook daily and we are tight. But I fear it may be fading, I fear I am going to lose her permanantly and it scares me. Before now, when we got separated I always had that feeling Feivel had in "American Tale" Somewhere out there, she was thinking of me and loving me and looking at the same bright star I was....but if her test results come back the way the doctors fear she will have Parkinson's Disease and our world will change drastically! I know that it may not shorten her life expectancy per say, it's not the kind of disease like cancer that will kill you faster, my grandmother had it and she was 83 when she died...but still it will change us. She eventually won't be able to text as often as she does, her speech will most likely become slurred making it harder for her to speak on the phone comfortably for hours on end, she will change and because of the fact that she is so self conscious already she will close herself up and she will fade from sight. I know her....to everyone around here she can laugh some of the symptoms off... the forgetfulness, the blanking out and not remembering part of her days. The small tremors in her hands and legs, the twitch of her head, she just laughs at it if it happens in front of others...but behind her eyes you can see it, you can read it...or at least I can. I am the one person she will be honest with about her fears, the one person she will confide in and I don't know if I am ready to handle this. My hubby hates my family with a passion, he feels whenever I talk to anyone from that branch of the tree I get depressed and I remember my past too much and I dwell on it. Besides, thinking about them only makes him think about a time in my life when I was suffering and he couldn't do anything to make it stop...not that he could of even if he was there, but he just loves me that much. So I can't really talk to him about my feelings about my sister and the fears that well up inside of me while waiting for all the different test results....and I can't really talk to her because I don't want to drag her down or make her feel badly. I fear if she knew just how scared I was of the prognosis she might stop talking to me about it and since I am the only person she'll talk to....well you see the dilemma I am in. My thinking is by posting here I will have gotten some of this off my chest and I will be able take a deep breath and figure out how to deal with all this. I need to be my sisters keeper, my sisters strong pillar, wow what a change of position this is...I'm used to needing her, not the other way around!
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