Tuesday, June 24, 2014

One family's trash is another family's treasure

I know I've never been a fan favorite in my family.  I'm moody, outspoken and I'm tattooed.  This mainly applies for my paternal side of my family.  My maternal side of my family doesn't mind my tattoos because most of them have some.  They also think I'm quite funny.

That being said, although I knew that speaking out against my cousin molesting me would cause some breaks in the foundation of my family, I never thought that they would completely alienate me.  I never thought that I would feel like an outsider.  I never even imagined myself completely breaking away.

It had to be done.  I hurt silently for over 25 years.  I could no longer repress my tears.  I could no longer wear the mask that hid my shame.  I'm not sorry that I lost my family because in my eyes, they aren't my family any longer.  A family wouldn't choose to associate with someone who could hurt a member so badly.  A family wouldn't make me feel like I was nothing.

I try not to make myself the victim, but sometimes I can't help but remember that I am a victim.  A victim of incest.

I wish that I could change what happened to me from the age of 4 to 12.  I wish that I wouldn't have these random flashbacks that make my heart want to crumble up and die.  No matter how hard I try, I can't wash all images from my memory.  The things that were done to me as a child make me want to vomit.  I get infuriated every time I hear of another child suffering as I did.  My heart has this huge scar that will never heal.  It will always be tender and I will never be able to get a replacement.

I thought that I would have support.  I thought that I would be given love.  I thought that I was a link in the familial chain that was crucial and people would want me around.  I never ever thought that I would be tossed aside like garbage that ruined that gleaming facade.

The day that my family allowed me to be treated like an unwanted untouchable, was the day that everybody died.  I still have a couple of great aunts, one cousin and my grandmum that survived the holocaust of my heart but everybody else is buried.  I had to mourn the loss of an entire family at once.  It sucked and sometimes I'm still not over their deaths, but you can't always control who will love you and who will treat you like you are nothing.

I want those who are "family" to be those who love me.  Blood means nothing.  I've had an infusion and my blood is no longer theirs.

No, this is all my paternal family that I am talking about.  I don't want there to be any confusion of who is dead to me and who is still alive and kicking.

Although I have lost my family, my heart still cries when someone is actually hurting.  I feel bad and I want to fix things.  I'm not sure why since no one cared/s about my well-being.

My therapist told me that I never have to forgive.  Forgiveness has to be earned and not one fucking person has even attempted to earn that by treating me like I'm an actual human being.

I've gone way off course of what I intended this blog to be about, so I will say now what I originally wanted to.  My "uncle" is having issues with his heart again and although he responded to me with, "what do you want me to do about it?" in a crass tone when I told him about my cousin molesting me (when I was coming clean to everyone about why I didn't want to be around my cousin).  I still feel bad.  That is my dad's brother, my grandmum's son and at one point, I considered him my uncle and someone I loved.

Although he hurt me, I don't think he deserves to suffer.  I will pray for him.  I will pray for his family.  I will even shed tears for him because I am not the monster that everyone makes me feel like.

One family may have been lost, but when I married my husband I gained another.  It's a lot smaller than the one I had before, but they never make me feel unwelcome and they never make me feel like I am nothing.  I also have my friends that have become important family members to me, including a best friend who is my sister.  My parents and I have also become so much closer in the last 2 years (I know it's hard for some to imagine us being closer, but we are).  All is not lost in heartache.  There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I just hope these people don't mistake my kindness for forgiveness in keeping them in my prayers.

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