The Hurting Game

   I don't like having the misconception out there that I have bad parents.  I know that I blogged about how my parents can sometimes make me feel, but this by no means is a good display of how I feel about them.
   When my heart is in pain, my immediate response is to write and get things out, I know that when writing on such a public forum, it's often hard to put yourself (and others) out there.  I write because I want people to know that they are not alone.
   I felt as though I was alone for years.  I thought that all the things that were going on inside me were mine and mine alone to deal with.  The moment that I became public about my issues, I found others who had similar experiences and would write to me and tell me how much my story reflected their own.  So I decided to continue in my quest of trying to cope with my inner demons and make it public for others to see that they are not alone by any means.
   Some of the things I write or say are immediate responses to how badly I hurt at the time.  I've always been the person to try to hurt someone as much if not more than they hurt me.  Just because I wanted to always be the one in control.  I wanted to be the one who hurt less.  I wanted to be the one inflicting pain, instead of the one who hurt so much that it was painful to breathe.
   As I grow older, I try to not hurt people and I try to be someone that people can come to, but sometimes I inadvertently hurt people without trying.
   My parents have and always will be 2 of my best friends ever.
   When I was younger, I could not fathom telling anyone about what my cousin did to me.  I always felt that no one would believe me and that I would get blamed in some way, shape or form for what happened.  "Why didn't you stop it?" "Why did you let it go on for so long?" "What exactly happened?" These were all the questions that I either never wanted to answer or could not find an answer to.
   When I finally came out with it to my parents, I was so embarrassed and disgusted by what had gone on, I wanted no one else in the world to know.  I wanted to put it behind me and never deal with it.  I wanted to forget everything about it.
   Little did I know that I would be haunted with nightmares and having this huge weight of this awful secret on my shoulders.  I became angry with the world and hated everything and every one.  I let this monster on my back ruin so many relationships and destroy myself for years.
   How does one come back from this?  How does one come up from a hatred that is buried so deep it's making it hard to see the sun?
   I told my parents about the molestation when I was 16 years old but I also asked them to keep my secret for me because of the shame that came with such a terrible past.  I wish that I could explain why I never came to them before that time, but I can't.  All I know is that I never wanted anyone to know and the only reason why I told them was because I wanted them to know that I wasn't trying to be an evil shit, I just didn't know how to deal with life at that point.
   I was an awful kid.  I would cuss at my parents and I would cut myself and I would tell them that I hated them because I was putting my pain on them.  I wanted everyone in the world to hurt as much as I did.
   I didn't know anything else.  I thought that telling my parents what happened would be a way to explain to them that I wasn't trying to be awful, I just hated myself.  Call it teenage angst or call it what it was, a mentally ill child that could not handle PTSD.
   In retrospective, I went about everything the wrong way.  I would definitely change everything I did, if I could.  What I did, I did for my family.  I never wanted to lose them.  That gave me an extra 17 years with my family that I would not have had if I had told my story back then.  I was right when I thought that my family would abandon me when I came out with the truth about that disgusting bastard.  Everyone except for my parents and a few others just left me out to dry.
   My parents and I have such a close relationship that we sometimes hurt each other without meaning to.  Yes, I am supersensitive now.  Yes, I take things to heart.  The good thing that comes from this?  It means that I can feel again.  I hated being such an ice queen and not feeling any emotions for so many years.
   I know that I have shitty ways of sometimes explaining things because my mind goes in so many different directions at once but I am trying.  I am trying to get my story out there.  I am trying to be a person that I can once again like.