I've been burying myself in anything but my past for the last few days, taking a "mental health day" Thursday, working yesterday. I then met up with some friends last night and got completely smashed, danced until 2:30. My thighs are burning. Maybe that's a good thing-maybe I'll finally get started towards my goal weight.
So here we are again. I decided to take a slightly different approach to this entry. My journals started making more sense around this time, and I wrote on a pretty regular basis. I had even finally started discussing my personal issues on a high-level. So I'm going to copy excerpts from some-there are far more than these, I just found these relevant to the point of my life that I'm currently discussing.
11/02/2000
Mom's gone. She left for Arizona yesterday morning. She's gone, and she took my life with her: (insert siblings' names here). I love them so much it's not funny. They're not here, and it feels like someone's gouging my heart out with a knife.
They were supposed to go to court and Dad didn't want to. Rather than faces charges or any other form of consequences for his actions, he packed up my family and moved 2000 miles away. This entry says nothing of the pain I felt. Was I worthless? Why didn't Mom believe me? By speaking out I had effectively banished my siblings to somewhere far across the country. How were they going to handle the change? And what if Dad snapped and killed them all? I'd have no way of knowing. If he hurt them and Mom tried to escape, where could she possibly go? I couldn't help them because they were so far away. Why did Mom abandon me again? I needed her. I missed my family. In the journal I didn't talk about the nights I cried myself to sleep, feeling completely alone. I didn't talk about hearing the phone ring and racing for it, both scared and excited, wanting to hear Mom's voice and know everything was okay. It was such a scary time for me. what if something happened to Minnie? With my parents so far away how would that be handled? There was too much uncertainty, too many unknowns. I was constantly tense.
I was actually quite lucky because not quite a month before this entry I met my first love. He helped me through this time in my life-we actually dated for more than a year. I leaned on him pretty heavily. He knew a little bit of my background-you kinda have to explain a little when you're so susceptible to emotional outbursts-and he didn't mind holding me when I cried. He was wonderful. He and I spent the majority of our time with the person that is still my best friend even now-because I later lived with her and she has been a major player in my life, I'll go ahead and give her a fake name now too-we're gonna call her Delaney. She was at my side for a huge portion of my life, but I didn't really talk to her about my family. She knew a little bit, but just enough for explanation's sake. I spent my time with her and my boyfriend, ignoring the pain and trying to do my best.
(Sidenote: this is when the song "There Is No Arizona" came out and I cried EVERY SINGLE TIME I heard it (still do). It was so painful to hear-I'd have sworn it was written about my mom except in Mom's case she was actually with Dad...but the concept applied in my young mind. Should you wish to read the lyrics, click here.
11/15/2000
Back to Mom. I wrote to them all and they just got the letters today. Mom decided she "needed to hear my voice" so she called me. Yeah right.
I had dedicated only 4 (incomplete) sentences to Mom out of a 2 page entry to Mom. That was me deliberately avoiding my feelings about the situation. I droned on and on about the boyfriend and daily activities but didn't want to put a lot of thought into what I was feeling. I guess better late than never, right?
"Yeah right" is the only telling part of that segment. When Mom said she needed to hear my voice, I didn't believe it. If she really wanted to hear it, if she cared so damn much, she wouldn't have left. I felt insignificant. It felt as if Mom was sending me a message-sure I love you honey, you're just not as important as your Dad. I hated her so much then...it grew. It festered. There was an anger that was building up inside of me but I didn't recognize it. When I was very young I didn't really understand that it wasn't how things were supposed to be until they started talking to us at school about recognizing abuse and all of that. I didn't really understand that Mom knew how certain actions would make me feel, yet allowed it to happen and/or participated in it regardless. As grew I began to understand that generally people do realize that all actions have consequences and having seen my mom carefully weigh them out I knew she understood what she was doing to me. She just didn't care, or cared more about something else. I know I talked a little about being let down by her, about needing her in prior posts, but this was the part of my life that I realized that she did all of this on purpose. It may not have been what she had originally intended, but she weighed the odds and decided to subject her children to all of that pain. I felt betrayed-Mom had let me cry on her shoulder about what happened with Dad, said she believed me initially, then sided with him and just left me. Not moving one state over, or 500 miles away, but 2000. I can't put it into words really-it nearly broke me. I guess it's because I always believed Mom had a heart, that she cared but just couldn't figure out a way for us to get out of that mess. I had just begun to discover that wasn't the case. I expected hurt from Dad. I felt it so much worse when the hurt came from Mom.
11/21/2000
To explain this one a little-a friend of mine had a dream about me and told me about it. This was a snippet of my reaction.
Now for her dream. To make it brief, she wrecked her car into my mom's. When she woke up (in her dream) she was in her living room. There I was, lying bruised and beaten on her couch, repeating "He's come back" over and over...."he" being my dad. Could he really hurt Mom and the fam and then come back for me? That's the problem...I don't know. And I've got to admit, I'm absolutely terrified, you don't even know what it's like...to be this scared, to live in constant fear. I keep this "mask" on all the time. I act like a normal happy teenager. But that's just it...it's all a facade. When that mask is removed and people see the real me, they get really scared and totally flip out. Oh well. I'll live, I suppose.
Looking at it I think-ugh, why was I so dramatic? Then I think through it. I was dramatic because that's how it felt. The thought of Dad coming back to punish me was nothing short of terrifying. Having someone else dream about my darkest fears was unsettling. I don't feel I really need to expand upon that entry. I was just plain scared.
12/14/2000
The holidays are gonna be really difficult for me to handle this year. Mom doesn't even want to see me. She called last week or the week before-I can't remember which. She asked me if I was planning on going out there this summer, and when I told her that I wouldn't if Dad was gonna be there, she said that's a decision that I'd just have to make. She's been telling the kids that I don't want to see them, but you know as well as I do that there's not a day that goes by that I'm not wishing to be with them. I love them so much. I wish with all of my heart that I could see my brothers and sister grow into adults; I hope and pray that they don't forget they have an older sister that loves them very much back here in Tennessee. But oh well. All I can do is pray.
That's a decision I'd just have to make. Kinda like oh well kiddo, who gives a shit what you do? When my sister asked why I didn't want to see her I responded of course I did-then she tells me "that's not what Mom says." What had I done that made Mom want to make me a villain to my family? Oh wait, I told the truth. I was seeing a therapist during this time (court-mandated) and had mentioned to the therapist that Dad always said the twins weren't his. He said it openly, no questions asked. Somehow my remark to my therapist got back to Mom and I received a very angry phone call one night, saying that I had already ruined the lives of her and Dad, why did I have to drag the boys into it? She spewed some crap about them not knowing and being hurt by the news. First of all, I said what I said with a CONFIDENTIALITY agreement. Apparently that rule didn't apply because of what else I had told the therapist-about the beatings and such-DCS was still trying to interrogate my family but that gets muddy when state lines are crossed. Secondly, I wasn't revealing any dark family secrets. All you have to do is look at my brothers to know they belong to Dad; they look so much like him, as do I (and I hate that about myself). Dad had been lamenting about "raising OPKs" (other people's kids) for all of our lives and openly said the boys weren't his on several occasions. Mom would always call me to attack me. I remember her asking "Are you happy now?" and hanging up on me one night, which resulted in me crying in my bathroom floor with a razor blade, then cleaning and patching myself up. Punishment had been administered, I could continue with the routine.
During this time there weren't friendly conversations with Mom. I enjoyed talking to my brothers and sister, but not her. I started dreading her phone calls. I sent her pictures frequently-one was of me and the boyfriend on the couch. We were all snuggled up, this is true, but it was completely innocent-Minnie took the damn picture. She proceeded to call me and go on a tirade about how she didn't want to see me like that again, it was indecent, blahblahblah. She talked to the boyfriend over the phone and told him he'd better respect me. She was so far away but she had to keep her claws in me. The phone calls always ended with tears for me. I don't think they ever bothered her.
I didn't think I was going to get to this part tonight, but I think I will. I want to put these diary excerpts in and I might not be up to doing that at a later date, so I might as well do it now. These start nearly a year later and chronicle one of the most hurtful things Mom ever did to me. I think I've summed up the loneliness and anger of them leaving. Let's move forward.
09/23/01
Uncle (name here) got online and told me to get off so he could call because it was an emergency. On September 11, the day of the tragedies (I did write a separate entry about that), Daddy took off with the only car and money they had, leaving Mom and the kids stranded at my cousin's in Arizona. So I was told Daddy was on his way back here, and Mom and the kids were coming back as soon as they could rake up $200. Last I heard, Daddy had called from Texas a few days ago to check on his keyboard, and everybody else was still in Arizona. But that was a few days ago. I don't have a clue about what's going on.
10/27/01
This is a bit difficult. Uncle (name here) called last night and announced that Mom and the kids had left Arizona...with Dad. To come to Tennessee. They're either at a friend's or they're dead on the side of the road somewhere. I don't know. I just don't know. I hope they're okay...
12/08/01
I don't know where they are. I miss them so much it's almost unbearable. The pain is overwhelming. Major stress.
I didn't write about locating my family. I didn't discuss it in the entries that followed these. It was a difficult experience for me.
After three months of worrying, three months of not having any contact with my family, thinking they might be dead, I located them. I had some help, actually. The uncle that kept calling lived in South Carolina, but it never occurred to me to wonder where he got his information from. He called me again about a week after that last entry-I don't have exact dates but it was between 12/08/01 & 12/20/01. He told me that my family had moved home in September, that they had all been there, that close, and didn't contact me by choice. I didn't believe him. He told me Mom worked at Taco Bell in West Town. A guy I knew from school (who would later become my boyfriend) worked at the Chik-Fil-A right beside it, so I enlisted his help. I gave him a picture of Mom and asked him to find out if she actually worked there. He called me that same night and verified it. I was overcome with happiness that they were alive, that they were there. I was elated. Then it hit me-I mean that bitch fell on my shoulders like a ton of bricks-they had been here. Right here, the whole time. They didn't tell me. Why?
So I went to the mall, planning to call her out. I got there, asked for her, and they said she wasn't working. I was shaking all over, so mad and so nervous about confronting Mom. I called the next day and asked to speak with her. She answered, and I said "hi."
"Who is this?'
"Your daughter."
....silence...
Then she started talking like we hadn't missed anything at all, said she'd call me after work and we'd talk about it. I was so hurt. Angry doesn't even begin to cover it-I was incensed, infuriated, fuming, livid, insane with rage. I didn't convey that to Mom, although I wish I had. She said Dad wouldn't let her tell me they were here-that way DCS wouldn't know. I cried and cried and cried some more. I still lived in the same apartment, still had the same phone number, but my mother refused to contact me to even let me know she was alive. Pardon my French here, but what the fuck??? She came over and took me somewhere to eat, I don't remember where, and we talked a little. Just her though, still couldn't see my siblings. It was fucked up.
So that I could actually see her for Christmas I worked at the mall with her that day. I actually started dating the same guy that located her for me that same day, so it wasn't all bad. I did it so I could see her. I still wanted to see her. Still needed my mom, or at least thought I did.
It was a while before I got to start seeing my siblings again. When I finally did, I had to see Dad. I had to lie to Minnie, tell her Mom was taking us somewhere else so I didn't see Dad. I just wanted to see my family. The twins were so big and their voices had deepened. My sister was so much taller-she was 10 at that time. My brothers would have been 13. I had just turned 15. It was an odd experience seeing them again after all that time. A year is a big deal when you're that age. I was never as close to my brothers after that either, although my sister and I grew to be best friends. In fact, she's aweigh and it's killing me. Can't wait for her to come home!!!
I think I'm done for the night. I'll sum up by saying that year is when I started hating Mom-real, honest hatred. It's a strange night for me to be writing this, because as I've been writing she's been updating her FB status.
"If you say you don't want to be part of the drama, don't do things that put you in the drama!"
Ummm...hello, you live for drama, Mom.
"Think hard before you wish you had free time from the kids, Your house being loud means your home is rich with happiness, without them the home is lifeless."
That's funny, we weren't allowed to make noise when we were little. And didn't you just pretty much force my brother to move out because you wanted an "empty nest"??
"I could never put into words how proud I am of my kids and how much I love them.."
Go ahead. Be proud-but know this: I am who I am in spite of you, not because of you.
I didn't comment on her statuses. I don't want the fallout that's attached to making such comments. But I'll sure as hell say them here. I hate it when she talks about her kids on FB like she never did anything wrong. Just......ARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH. SOOOO frustrated about that.
On that note, I'm going to bed. Night night now.
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