It never was the feelings that were a problem.
My parents use them against me. Maybe it does suck to have bad parents, but at least I could rely on people outside the family? I was barely at home anyways, right? Right?
A huge portion of my sadness come from the fact that I could rely on absolutely no one. And I mean no one. Not the nanny. Not the daycare attendants. Not the bus driver. Not the school teachers. Not the coaches. Not the extra curricular people. Not my friends. Not my friends parents. And I mean, no one.
I guess that’s why I wrote.
I got to thinking, though. Why did everyone betray me? Why? Was I so goddam repulsive a child that no one wanted to deal with me? No one wanted to give up a moment of their precious time or resources to give me comfort or a wise word? Did they all just like my parents? No- of course not, no one likes my parents. They are, and I’m being entirely objective, repulsive and utterly insufferable.
There’s something really extra special about being raised by sadists, you know?
Because I never really knew exactly what I could do that would be right, or good. There was nothing, of course, because sadists only feel pleasure when someone else is suffering. I might come home to my dog dead. Just dead. Poisoned, I suppose. I might never see my cat again on any particular day. She’s just gone. Nope, we don’t know where. She probably ran away. I never knew exactly what would happen when I was “in trouble”. Would I be beaten? Lose sight in my right eye? Or have to stay home from the beach while everyone else goes? My dad might lie about me humiliatingly in front of me to his friend.
It’s obvious from the outside that a sadist is going to have all these tells and threats for people to stay the fuck away from his kids. I mean, I think it would be obvious, anyways. If my dogs died mysteriously, why would some random public school teacher stick her neck out? For what? Some cripplingly awkward silent kid that doesn’t make any problems anyways? Who cares? She’s got noisy bullies and class clowns to worry about that don’t have sadistic vicious parents. No one wants to risk their own shit.
I was silent because if I spoke, people reported straight to my parents. And, there was nothing good that I could say. There was nothing at all. I was in a no-win situation. If I was loud, I garnered attention that was reported to my parents. If I was too smart, again, reported. If I was anything at all. Reported.
My most frequent childhood pastime was imagining that I didn’t exist. Or at least invisible.
Can you imagine?
Anyways. I had a thought about MIL. She died a few years ago, but the timing was rather strange. MIL… made the mistake of siding with my parents. She did, although I still to this day question whether my mother lied either to me or to MIL or both. I mean. She probably did, I shouldn’t pose it as a question. I just don’t have concrete proof.
I never thought of this before, but I think MIL died because of me. Because of my family.. or something to do with my family.
I had had the idea that she died because there just wasn’t anything left living for in her life anymore. And that’s true. I mean. She had a horrible, belligerent husband (the one and same FIL who I currently have a PPO against), a son who had a drug addict baby mama and their profoundly disabled child, and her other son (my DH) and our son who was the happiest baby ever and a delight, but.... she sided with my mom so there was no option of a relationship with me or obviously, my child.
But I just had this thought… why couldn’t she have admitted a mistake and made amends? She would have known that I’d forgive her. And I felt so goddammed SAD that she didn’t do that. Instead she rotted away on her couch and had my mother care for her. She chose… rotting and my insufferable mother instead of a bright future? I don’t get it.
But at the same time, I do. It’s the same answer as all the others. Why no one ever cared or stuck a toe out of line for me. There were signs, and threats and subtle cues. And of course there was ME the biggest red flag in all human history warning anyone who dared to cross paths with my parents; look what happened to this lil’ red flag. I’d laugh, but. It’s really quite sad.
It IS sad, and I’ve realized that there wasn’t a single thing I could have done to change any of it. Everyone else had choices. Everyone. The teachers, and bus drivers and friends parents especially. But me? I didn’t. My MIL and FIL had choices. It’s not MY shame that I was a red flag walking around that no one gave 2 shits about.
Loading comments...