(The best day is obviously a tie between the day I found out I was pregnant with my son and the day I had him…)
So, in the spirit of jumping around, let’s head forward. Last post I was 10, HE had just been sentenced to jail, and I was overjoyed. Flash forward to a not so smooth nine years. I am now 19…
Well, I don’t suppose I can fully jump forward without a little background at least. When I was 11 and change the Virginia courts decided that HE had served his time. So the ten years of safety that I was supposed to have? It had become just over two years….I was given a “choice” at the tender age of 11. I could “force [Carol] to live apart from [her] soulmate, in separate states no less! Forcing my young brother to grow up without a father. Or I could move in with my father which I had been begging to do for as long as I could speak, basically.” A “guilt free” way for Carol to kick me out to live with HIM when HE was released from prison. I moved in with my father on my 12th birthday and Carol never looked back. I spent the next seven years trying to have a relationship with Carol, trying to heal from what HE did to me when I was 9 & 10, and maintaining a relationship with my young brother despite Carol. (This is just the issues with Carol’s side of my family- I am not touching on the issues on my Dad’s side yet.)
After I moved out of my Dad’s house and into my first apartment, I began to truly heal from my past. Sure, I had been in counseling off-n-on since I was 10, but when I was still in bad situations therapy was not helpful. I mean seriously….how much help could it be when all the issues I was trying to heal from were either ongoing, over-shadowed by current circumstances or just to irrelevant for me? All of those were thrown out of the window once I moved out. True healing began for me and it happened quickly, as well.
It first began when I contacted Carol about my contact with my little brother. At first she tried to threaten to break off our contact. Well, here I took a page from my Grandmother’s book when she bullied Carol to keep contact with me. I threatened Carol with child service visits to check on my little brother’s status and well being. After all, he was living with not just HIM (who had the record) but Carol as well; who is far from innocent herself, as my scars prove. That threat was enough to promise I would always have the contact with my little brother. Though what she would tell him of me on the side was anyone’s guess. She always was a master story teller….
Next, I tried for one final time to have a functional relationship with her. I reached out the way a parent should. I wrote, I called and I emailed. I wanted to make sure that once I cut ties I would never be able to regret turning my back on her. When all my attempts were met with contempt, complacency or straight up ignored I knew I was done. That chapter of my life was done. I was no longer willing to subject myself to that pain anymore, when I knew from my youngest memories that I was unwanted by her. In all honesty it was a relief to let go of the constant need to try to create and maintain the relationship with her. I wasn’t wanted and I could accept it. I had done everything I could and more to try to build the relationship into a real one. I would forever be the unwanted child, the one that sent HIM to prison and separated her from her soulmate for a couple years. After all, she knew him first. Once I let that go, it was time to work on the pain, etc. from what HE had done…
That was easier to deal with. For one main reason that didn’t touch me as deeply as the betrayal Carol inflicted. She was my mother- she was supposed to love, guide and protect me. That’s the way it is supposed to work in life and in the natural order of things. To her though I was never wanted once I didn’t serve any purpose. That’s why hers was the ultimate betrayal. Whereas HE had only touched my body. I realized even when I was 10 that nothing HE did was my fault. Sure, I had had those moments of “well I had done this,” but they were few and far between. Most of my issues revolved around what I could have done to stop HIM sooner, so as not to take as much touching.
Like, there was one time I used to fantasize about for years where I could have shoved HIM into the corner of a dresser. It could have hit his spine and severed it- at least in my fantasy. Yet, it was all of these fantasies that I had to let go. I had to realize that at the tender age of 10 there was nothing more that I could have done. I did exactly what I should have done. I spoke out. Not only did I speak out, but I spoke out to the one person that I knew would listen and act on my behalf. I let my Grandma save me. I was better and safer for it.
I was realizing all of this one day while driving home to my apartment. I was really thinking on all of it and what carrying the weight of it around meant to me. It made me realize that I didn’t want that weight. The issues that I was dealing with and the weight were other people’s guilt, not mine. It didn’t even matter if they felt the guilt or not. I decided not to carry it anymore. I was done. I was going to be happy. I let it all go within a few breaths.
I wish I could tell you there was a secret trick to it. The only thing I can say, the only advice I can give is that is was a conscious decision within my head and my heart. It was something I knew to be true. That the burden wasn’t mine. I had a craptastic mother who preferred the man that went to jail to me and that was on her. HE was sick in the head and that definitely wasn’t on me. So I just decided to let them carry their own burdens, and that was that. I believed the truth of it within my heart and knew the truth within my head; their own sicknesses were on them. End of story.
That day a terrible burden that was never mine to carry was lifted from my shoulders. The sun was brighter in the daytime sky and the moon was more glorious at night. I was truly at peace in a way that I am not sure I had ever been before. That is the story of the second best day of my life…though up to that point it was the best day ever.