nachtspiegel
November 5th, 2008, 12:14 AM
My sister and I sat down tonight and had the deepest conversation we may have ever had. We started out talking about what we wanted for ourselves and everyone else, and before either one of us knew it, we realized that we were on the same page about a lot of things - including the abuse that her, my brother, and I suffered at the hands of our father. I almost told her about how I was sexually abused, but I left it at "there were things that happened at (place we used to hang out) that I haven't spoken much of, but I'll tell you one day."
Our main focus, however, was our father.
How he expected so much of us and made us feel lower than shit if we fell even a sliver short of his expectation.
How we were beaten for bringing home a bad grade or getting a call home from school about behavior for any reason.
How we were beaten for not helping him hide his alcohol.
How we were beaten for bringing home anything lower than a 93 on a report card.
She told me about the time that he almost killed our brother in the recliner (he had crawled in there, and my dad, in anger, almost completely shut in on him.)
I told her about the times that he would punch me to the ground and I'd cover my head and hope I would eventually be able to get back up.
We talked about the times that he chased us through the house, drunk as all get out, beating us with his thick strap belt with the sharp buckle on the end until we either found a hole to crawl in or a way to get out.
We talked about how his alcoholism destroyed our family.
~
We talked about how our mother isn't wicked, but she didn't watch or protect us quite enough.
We talked about how she didn't pay enough attention.
We talked about how, when we tried to tell her, she thought it was just in our imaginations.
We talked about how she left us to him and the streets, and because of how we grew up, we will be seriously damaged for the rest of our lives.
We talked about how we starved because our father always ate first, or because he would drink the money for the rent, utilities, and food.
We talked about how bad we feel because she is now beginning to feel bad.
We talked about our anger toward each other: her at me for telling confidants outside of the family (that proved to be terrible confidants) and me at her for feeling the anger toward me for those reasons.
I feel so much closer to her now, and I feel a sense of relief that I haven't felt in ages.
My mood swings may kill this relief tomorrow, but I am going to breathe it in tonight.
(Sorry for any potential spelling or grammatical errors - I am typing at least ninety words per minute right now.)
:whoops:
Our main focus, however, was our father.
How he expected so much of us and made us feel lower than shit if we fell even a sliver short of his expectation.
How we were beaten for bringing home a bad grade or getting a call home from school about behavior for any reason.
How we were beaten for not helping him hide his alcohol.
How we were beaten for bringing home anything lower than a 93 on a report card.
She told me about the time that he almost killed our brother in the recliner (he had crawled in there, and my dad, in anger, almost completely shut in on him.)
I told her about the times that he would punch me to the ground and I'd cover my head and hope I would eventually be able to get back up.
We talked about the times that he chased us through the house, drunk as all get out, beating us with his thick strap belt with the sharp buckle on the end until we either found a hole to crawl in or a way to get out.
We talked about how his alcoholism destroyed our family.
~
We talked about how our mother isn't wicked, but she didn't watch or protect us quite enough.
We talked about how she didn't pay enough attention.
We talked about how, when we tried to tell her, she thought it was just in our imaginations.
We talked about how she left us to him and the streets, and because of how we grew up, we will be seriously damaged for the rest of our lives.
We talked about how we starved because our father always ate first, or because he would drink the money for the rent, utilities, and food.
We talked about how bad we feel because she is now beginning to feel bad.
We talked about our anger toward each other: her at me for telling confidants outside of the family (that proved to be terrible confidants) and me at her for feeling the anger toward me for those reasons.
I feel so much closer to her now, and I feel a sense of relief that I haven't felt in ages.
My mood swings may kill this relief tomorrow, but I am going to breathe it in tonight.
(Sorry for any potential spelling or grammatical errors - I am typing at least ninety words per minute right now.)
:whoops: