So in the wee hours I reflect on things. Remembering how once, when I was a kid, I dunno, maybe thirteen or something, I had the strangest dream. That something was tickling my right arm, and then biting me. I stirred and with my left hand I tried to brush off what I thought was a bug, but I found I was immobile, as if strong hands were pinning me down. Then the thing on my right arm started biting me but good; it hurt so bad that my back arched and I cried out in my sleep. Then, a strange, euphoric feeling washed over me. That's the last I remembered, but the next morning there was a red dot on my right arm.
So obviously my dad had shot me up with something. I have no idea what transpired after the injection, and it's probably best I don't know. I looked him right in the eye over breakfast and said that a scorpio had bitten me in my sleep, and he quickly looked away. My father would have sold me up the river for his own sexual gratification, and lord knows he tried. There was that time he wanted me to meet someone about "being in a movie.” I was seven or eight. I held my dad's hand as I was introduced to a black man, who looked down at me, startled, and I gave him my biggest, most ingratiating smile. Then he looked at my dad with a combination of loathing and fear, and shook his head. Afterward, my dad said not to mention any of that to my mother.
I'm so glad there wasn't an internet when I was a kid, or I might not even be alive right now.
Incest, or child molestation, period, is such a common topic in those sordid crime dramas that run nowadays. I don't have a t.v., as you know, but every time I'm at my parent's house, where the t.v. is on faithfully every day, it seems that there's a show on dealing with it. It's happened two or three times at least. My parents get very agitated. My mom starts twittering and fluttering her hands, and my dad clears his throat. Last time it was that CSI rerun [episode "Blood Drops"] with Dakota Fanning, who played a little girl molested by her father wearing a buffalo medallion around his neck and the only word she would say was "buffalo." In the story, it turned out that her older sister had gotten the rest of the family whacked to protect Dakota's character. During these episodes when my parents are tweaking out, I see them impassively and am almost amused.
Anyway, after the show was over, my mom rose to get ready for bed, but first touched my cheek with the back of her hand, something she never does, and she looked so sorry. I know she wants my forgiveness, and I think that's why she and my dad are helping me so much with college, because my life up to age 36 was one miserable fuckup after another, and they felt responsible.
Have I forgiven my parents. Well, in a sense. I remember talking about this in a previous post, but I only forgive them to the point. I know that their failings are due to their own inadequate internal programming. I also know that spending the rest of my life blaming them is like shackling myself. So I've let go. But of course, being adults who made conscious choices, what they've done is unforgivable, and they know it.
I wonder what my Oma would have done if she knew.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 5:41 AM
2 Comments:
Aw Peep...I'm so sorry for all you've had to live with and overcome. (((NP)))
You're sweet, Sandy, thank you. Love, NP
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