I can't sleep. I've always had this problem. I think the reason why so many people become alcoholics and drug addicts, is to help them sleep bad memories away. I'm haunted by the memories of neglect. My mom and Dad abandoned me on several occasions and bad things occurred as a result.
I've never been able to talk about any of the countless events that trouble me. My mother in law, wonderful as she is, suggested a counselor. The lady helped her sister a great deal and maybe I should give her a try. One problem, she charges $60 an hour. No thanks, I'll figure it out myself.
One of the things my dear husband suggested is, "Just let it go." It makes me laugh to think he calls this a legitimate solution. Here's how I imagine a therapy visit going in Dr. Joe's office...
Joe: So Jeri, what's wrong?
Jeri: Eh, I'm haunted by memories of abuse and I can't sleep.
Joe: Have you ever considered letting it go?
Jeri: What's that?
Joe: Letting it go. You know, just forgetting about it?
Jeri: Jeez, I never thought about that. How does it work?
Joe: You just let it go.
Jeri: OK, here I go. Letting it go now...
Joe: How do you feel?
Jeri: I'm cured! Thanks Doc!
I think what triggered it this time is a visit from my dad. We needed some work done on our property and he offered to help. Knowing my dad, I wasn't sure if he had an alternative motive or not. He did. He offered to help, and give me a great deal on the cost of labor. Basically, my dad would come out and help, but for a fee. He was going to make money off of us.
That hurt my feelings, but I didn't want to talk about it. I just figured I would just let it go. But as I lay down to sleep, thoughts resurface, like, When he dropped me off at my mom's without saying why and didn't comeback.
I can't talk to dad about it. He has a warped memory of the way he fathered me. He'd tell people how he raised his daughter by himself so people would commend him, when in reality, television, brothers and neighbors raised me. I hardly remember my dad being around. When he was there, he was mean to me. I still do not know why he kicked me out when I was 11. He came into my room and said, That's it. I can't take it anymore. Pack your shit. I'm taking you to your mother's.
I thought he was bluffing. He had told me to pack my shit several times that month and he would apologize after I'd pack up my whole room, crying. I didn't cry this time. I didn't even pack. I didn't want to have to unpack. I pretended to pack while lazily throwing clothes into a garbage bag.
He asked if I was done and told me to get in the truck. This didn't even scare me because we'd made it to this point before as well. We'd get half way to my mom's and he'd pull over, cry and tell me he was sorry. He'd turn around and I'd unpack, he'd act like every thing was back to normal.
As we approached the half way point, I started to worry. He kept going. We did in fact make it to my mothers camper. My mother, who was "homeless" at the time, lived in a camper trailer in the back parking area of the bar where she worked. I thought for sure that he wouldn't really leave me here. He wouldn't, right? She's unfit to parent. She's homeless for god's sake.
He said, go tell your mom you're here. I took my garbage bag with the few clothes I grabbed...
...and he drove away.
The next couple of years were the hardest for me as I knew I was responsible for myself. I was like an adult who had no authority. I made my own decisions, bought my own clothes and cooked my own food. When I think back to some of the decisions I made I think, damn, that was bad move. But then I think, what were my options, really? And, why didn't I have someone looking after me?
Then I remember some of the abuse that happened as a result of "living with" my mother. I can't blame her for some things. I feel she is incompetent and therefore can't be held responsible. She drank away her ability to think straight and did the best an alcoholic could do. I blame anyone who knew I was with her and didn't intervene.
My mom did what her parents did to her. Neglected and abused. In her mind, she was doing what she was taught, God forbid she break the chain. It reminds me of a story my mom told me one night when she was in a drunken reminiscent mood... She told me that her mom had to leave the state to attend a family member's funeral. There were six children, one was a baby, who went with grandma, the others were left with Grandpa.
Grandpa was a raging alcoholic who hit his kids. Well, while grandma was away, the state stepped in and took all five kids. Mom and her siblings were placed in foster homes. She told me how the foster parents told her that if she didn't behave, they'd put her in the basement with the rats.
She told me how grandpa would hit her, grandma and all the kids. She told me grandpa would say, Come here, ugly. How grandpa wouldn't allow pictures to be taken of my mom because she was too ugly to be his daughter.
As horrible as this was to my mom, she couldn't see that raising me was her opportunity to end the cycle of abuse and teach her child that you can overcome the adversity and become a productive member of society. But the alcohol got the best of her.
She did exactly as her father did to her. She would tell me how ugly I was. She'd tell me that boys don't like fat girls . How I'd better find a man with money to love me because I was too stupid to take care of myself. She told me that I looked like a whore for wearing too much make up and accused me of trying to steal her boyfriend. She would leave me in an apartment for months at a time "checking on me" occasionally.
The fact is, you can't just let it go. You need answers. You need someone to own up to their wrongdoings and apologize. You need closure.
There are hundreds of scenarios that play out in my mind. I replay these painful memories every night like a bad movie. The memories are so vivid that it's as if I'm reliving them. I eventually sleep, sometimes crying, sometimes not. I feel that if it goes on much longer, I'll eventually lose my mind.
It's happened before. I've become so sleepless, I've needed medication and become what some would refer to as a "crazy person". I've been diagnosed with anxiety, manic depression and ADD. Whether or not I really have these diseases is unclear. What is certain however, is the fact I need help. Soon.
The New PostSecret Book
9 years ago
