but I woke up this morning, really wanting to get this story down. Im honestly not even sure which blog this belongs to, but, Im going to put it here.
**___Trigger warning - highly sensitive stuff, read at your own risk ___**
I - dont talk about this. I suppose because the wound just ran too deep. I have no problems telling people that my parents kicked me out. In reality, it was more a carefully structured move - I went from my parents house, to my sisters house. And while it *was* kicking me out - it was what I wanted, too. I wanted to leave. I hated it there.
What I dont talk about - is the day they left me.
Maybe Im just finally - capable - of dealing with it.
I was getting ready for school. Doing my make up, Im pretty sure. And I was so - thrown - when the phone began to ring. This was like - 7:30 AM, so - not really a time when anybody calls. I remember thinking it might be my best friend, calling, so I answered it cheerfully enough.
When I heard my Dads voice on the other side, I remember the WTF moment. then realizing I had to focus, he had *never* called me. I had been away from home for more then a year. (wondering now, suddenly, if me getting arrested for shoplifting was fall out from this event - but I cant remember if it was that winter when it happened, or the winter before - just - not good with time)
But the point is, that Dad never called me. Dad never even talked to me. He hadnt even known I was leaving home, untill it happened - and mom had told him it was all on me and Jan - which wasnt true at all. Of course, we wouldnt find that out for years - but, I think it says something for him - how much he really did love my sister and I - that he *had* to call and tell us, in his own clumsy way.
I remember the conversation, as breif as it was, very clearly. I think, he didnt want mom to catch him on the phone. He said they were leaving for the Island that morning, and I asked when they would be back.
When he said they wouldnt be, that they had bought a house, Im pretty sure I started shutting down. I remember just saying "Oh, ok, well - thanks for telling me"
Im not sure if he asked if I wanted to come or not. Maybe its just something my mind has - desperately imagined - in fact, its probably that. But my next very clear memory is standing, and getting on the bus. In retrospect, I should have just stayed home, but - It was easier to go through the motions, and Jan wasnt awake yet, and terrible to wake up, and I knew my friends, would be up, and functioning. SO I got on the bus.
I remember thinking that if I acted hysterical, I would get attention. I needed it. Im not sure if its really manipulation though. In situations like that, Im not sure there is a valid, or non-valid response. But I do remember my bus driver, who I had known for a few years by then, offering to go off his route, and drive me to the hospital - again, at this point, possibly something I should have said yes too, but didnt.
Not even when I saw thier motorhome, pass us on its way out of town.
I remember walking to my friends house, trying to figure out what I should do when I got there, how I should act that would maximize reaction. Again, valid manipulation, I think. What I really needed was someone just to stop me, and hug me, and tell me everything was going to be ok, and that I was loved. The same things I need today, and have always needed, and never really received untill - well - my husband.
After that, its kindof a blur untill I got to the mall. I know Clover was with me, Im not sure if the "Other" was there. I remember looking at the walls. I remeber, trying to deal, or maybe just trying to ignore it.
I ran into Jan in the grocery store. Im not sure *why* I was in the grocery store, but, I remember her starting to ream me out for not being in school, and me trying to tell her what happened. Historically, she punched the wall of the store in response. I *think* she damaged it, not sure. These were her parents too - and she had lived with them a lot longer then I had.
I realize now, that her world took a tumble that day too. That she couldnt comfort me - it was just too far beyond her as well. In retrospect - it probably was bad parenting - but its not like anybody could blame her. She had just been abandoned as much as I had been. Maybe even more. Not telling a mentally unstable teenager your plans might not be the best idea - but not telling your adult daughter whos looking after *two* unstable teenagers is - a mad slap in the face.
Now, I dont even remember what came after that. If I went home with her, or if I went back to Clovers. I dont remember telling my best friend, although I know I did.
More importantly, to this day, I dont remember a single adult responding to me the way I wanted them too. I think probably, they were all a little too shocked, to really comprehend what had happened. I mean, really - what responsible adult buys a house 800 miles away, and moves, *without* telling thier family - thier own kids? Its a device used in soap operas and horror stories. I mean, "True Blood" used it as a plot device for thier freaking shapeshifter. Thats how entirely unplausable such a thing was.
Looking back, most of them probably thought I was just lying again. I did it so often it was an understandable response. And then of course, in finding out that it was the truth, they were probably far too humiliated, and horror struck, to do anything else. And I *really* doubt that apologizing to me ever entered thier minds.
Now - I dont remember much after that - Im shitty at putting together time lines at the best of times - but probably the trauma of the event just - blocks out - everything. Something like this can knock a person right off thier axis for years, never mind months. And if I had abandonment issues *before* that happened - which I did, it easily compounded them.
This wasnt getting kicked out because of bad behavior, this wasnt someone dying, or leaving because they had no choice. This was a premeditated, cold hearted, brutal act of a woman who wasnt mentally stable herself. Not that it *excuses* her behavior - Even the most insane of people, can probably understand that what was done was - sick. But - it is the only way *I* can rationalize what was done.
To this day, I still live with the feelings of "every body leaves me, no body loves me, and I am not worth the time" And even though its untrue, this one incident is scored so deeply in my heart, Im not sure I will ever recover from it. I *think* I was seventeen when they left. But I may have been 16. This means it was 20 years ago.
this is the first time Ive ever actually taken the event out, and functionally *looked* at it.
20 years, of hiding it, a deep ugly cancer eating away at my heart. Possibly one of the nastiest scars I have. Its *still* just barely real to me. And yet, it defines a great deal of my pathos.
Its not - something you can really "deal" with either, I dont think. Theres no way to put a positive spin on it. Theres no comfort, theres no "good thing". There isnt even a single individual that I can point to, who helped me at this time. Not directly. From the beginning, it was a dark, ugly thing that got hidden away - not dealt with, not talked about. THey were gone, now deal with it.
Now, Im ready to.
My parents are long dead. I cant talk to them about it.
Im not sure Clover remembers the event.
My sister, really, is the only person I have to talk to about it - and hopefully, over Christmas, we can hash this out. If she can. Because Im not going to push, if shes not ready to deal with it. Not fair to her.
So theres the ugly.
any ideas on what to do with it?
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