And, it's time for me to stop numbing the pain.
It's funny because I don't even remember when I mastered the art of defusing pain. I know I have a high tolerance for physical pain...but I am not sure when I totally became numb to the emotional pain.
The memories used to haunt me, daily. Used to keep me up at night, shaking. I didn't want to close my eyes because I didn't want to slip into the realm where it felt like I was reliving it again. At least with my eyes open, I knew that I was just daydreaming and that the harsh realities of my visions had already come to pass.
I had forgotten the pain I felt growing up as me. I had forgotten what it felt like...I had forgotten how painful it was for me to be powerless in saving my babies..I had forgotten why the windows to my soul always looked like they had a murky haze on them.
I lost myself in my book. I lost myself in my job. I lost myself in worthless men. I lost myself in food. I lost myself in despair.
I know me and knew that something was heavy on my soul that needed to be addressed, but I could not pinpoint what it was. I thought it had to do with me blaming myself, so I discussed that but the feeling did not go away. I thought it was about me giving up on my child because I was taking his acting out so personally. So I discussed that but the feeling was still there. I thought it was this, I thought it was that...still no release from the tightness and the heaviness growing in my heart.
I had been planning on blogging about how Chucky and his bride were progressing. How the category 6 storm had downgraded to a tropical storm. How things were finally settling down and I was getting a lil' more peace in my house. But I received a text from my sister yesterday informing me that she will be coming to get Chucky Bride soon and that she is about to have yet another baby. And I immediately texted back asking her what is she going to do with this baby and asked about my nephew that is now 1 yrs old that she walked out the door with when he was two weeks old and never returned with. I mean you have 2 kids and someone else is caring for them...and now you about to have another. Birth control would not be the answer... neither would tying of her tubes. She is searching for love...searching for proof that she belongs, that she matters, that she is valued and that is when it hit me...
The last time I saw CQP, he hurt my feelings. He didn't try to, and I am sure he doesn't even realize that he did..but he did. We were going through the different issues that result in a person having self-value issues. I just couldn't wrap my head around why I didn't value myself especially with all that I had accomplished. So CQP broke it down for me about how terrible my childhood was...about basically how my parents failed at showing me that I was priceless and at showing me love...and then the peeps that did love and value me, they unfortunately weren't permanent features in my life...so I have been trying to reconcile my value ever since.
While he was talking and bringing up things I had told him that had happened to me, I felt a pain like I hadn't felt in a long time. I saw me at 4 and 5 crying myself to sleep in my bed. I heard my prayers to God asking HIM why did he choose these people to be my family. I saw myself comparing myself to others trying to figure out what was wrong with me...trying to see what I could do differently to get my parents to love me, to see me, to understand me, to cherish me.
I remembered how alone and unloved I felt. I remembered wanting to disappear. I remember wondering what I had done to deserve the treatment I was receiving. I remember hating myself.
So as he is talking I am wondering, 'why didn't I just end it all when I was little because I had a very dysfunctional childhood and standing here looking back, I am not even sure how I made it through.'
On April __, 2000, the doctors told me that I was going to die. This was right after they scooped my stillborn son into a specimen cup. They wanted to take my other son. I basically told them that they could go to hell. They assured me that I only had 2 choices, neither of which I morally agreed with. I told them if I died, I would die with my baby and I meant that and well, I did.
I remember the pain I felt. I remember how powerless I felt. Most of all, I remembered that I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. I couldn't mourn. I had work to do. I had to fight for my firstborn's brother. I had to try and make him stick or at least get to a point where he could live outside of my body.
I remember for 3 weeks I fought everyone. I fought my mother and her ignorant, drama filled lies. I fought my grandmother. I fought the insensitive nurses. I fought the incompetent doctors. I fought against my body's natural urge to abort my child. I fought the paramedic worker.
I fought with all my might and I still lost.
I remember holding my son in my arms...watching him fight to breath, fight to live, fight to be seen. I remember being angry. I remember feeling defeated. I remember feeling lost. I remember that I did not cry.
I couldn't...there was no time for that...I needed to sift through the madness...salvage whatever I could and keep it moving. I would cry another day, just not that day. And here it is 10 years later and I still haven't found the time to cry.. to cry for my sons...to cry for my dysfunctional childhood, to cry for me
But it is coming...I can feel it..and well, it's been a long, long time coming. I have been at work, tearing up...one or two may fall and then it's done. I have been driving and the same thing has happened, a tear here, a tear there. My soul is ready to release this backup of pain, of sorrow, of hurt of everything that I cannot verbalize that I have had to endure. I am worthy of my own tears. I am worthy to be loved.
"It's been a long, long time but a change's gone come. Each day, I move toward that change. I embrace that change. I love that change. I realize that I am only as strong as my weakest link and each day that link moves closer and closer to UNBREAKABLE."