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Curus~After all this time... |
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I wonder if that word has an actual meaning, beyond being the name of a cutesy electronic dance song on DDR Supernova and one of the arcade versions of DDR...
The brief silliness aside...
It's been eleven months and two or so weeks since certain incidents about my life were revealed to my family and the police on the same day...
The reaction from my 'extended' family was... one of immediate backlash. How dare I go to the police? It shouldn't have been done, even if it should have been done in the first place.
In these eleven months, I've been so thankful to have the unconditional love of my mother... and her love for me, as well as mine for her, brings me to tears...
but to this day, I am bothered especially by the acts of my mother's brothers and my mother's mother-my grandmother.
It hasn't been that long, and yet it has been a long time...
The reason I don't want to reveal the entire situation is because, were I to bring it up in a public forum, no one would believe me. Just... no one COULD... believe me. The only reason I believe it is because I live it.
Have lived through it.
Unfortunately, the story-the truth- was too much for my uncles and... beloved grandmother.
The truth of my profound feelings is that I hate her. I hate her for her reaction, all the things she said when the time was most important for her to be saying the opposite of what she said... and I hate her for everything she said after that crucial time, and everything she did, has done, and is doing currently... and I hate that I love her, even just the least amount... and I hate that a part of me misses her at all... and I hate that even that part of me loves her dearly...
because at the end of it, she was the one who hurt me in the most dire manner.
I know it's because I feel that I have been lied to, and in that regard I was abused emotionally...
I lived my entire life up to that point with my grandmother telling me she loved me, and a foolish thing that I didn't want to take to heart even at the time, but I couldn't help being happy-telling me I was her favorite grandchild... a foolish thing to say in the first place, picking a favorite... but I loved her nonetheless, even with her faults, and usually in spite of them...
and when the whole mess was brought about at the time, I needed her to be supportive of me and my mother... instead, she cried, "What about me?!"
And at the time, I thought it was perfectly reasonable: "Well, she WAS affected strongly by this! D="
I still loved blindly, after all...
And then, a few days later on my birthday, I got, "I'm too tired to go to your birthday party, which is in the same city that I live in, and really just a few exits up the high way. D=" from her, and "I'm really worried about grandma! T.T" from the uncle who lived with her, and a resounding, "********. You. You b***h. D<" from the second uncle, through his son.
I've never had much respect for uncle two, and his son annoys the crap out of me with his idiotic behavior, but to hear that on the morning of my birthday still hurt, and I was already in a delicate state to begin with, so it was not appreciated, and when that son came to apologize so many months later I was not the most forgiving... -.-
Nor was I particularly amicable. D<
My mother did not approve of my behavior, but I made no secret of the reason why I was being so bitter and cold.
He wound up apologizing, and I said I'd get over it... but apparently, not completely. -_-;
I know that's childish... but it's not something I'm going to forget. D< Not anytime soon, anyway. D<
In any case, his dad is being worse than ever... I don't EVEN want to go into the drama that uncle two started up just two months after the drama that I caused by doing something that had been long overdue....
and yet my grandmother is depending on this fool. -_-
And I fail to understand completely how I can still have any kind of affection towards this s**t-talker, this manipulative person that my grandmother is-this emotionally abusive liar....
In truth, I think I'm just driving myself crazy, because I want to ask her, "Why would you lie to me? You're a horrible person."
Because it really matters to me that she lied...
I mean, I'm not ignorant to the stereotypical situations that arise... that was why I was so afraid to come out with my truth in the first place...
Often, entire families abandon their child, just because they can't deal-they won't believe, they'll... do whatever mental gymnastics they can to convince themselves that you're a horrible person for saying what you're saying, and you should be shunned by everyone-everyone!
I got lucky in that my mom not only believed me, but supported me and chose to help me... as well as providing disturbing information the day we went to the police so I could file a report.
But, even though I knew what the likelihood was of my family acting stereotypically in this stereotypical situation-ridiculously high- there was this small, powerful hope in the deepest fold of my hard that prayed to God that they would be supportive...
and instead, got it worse than even I imagined... and I find it to be such SUPREME bullshit that I HAVE to consider myself lucky for getting my mom and my brother out of the deal, because I lost everyone else, while everyone else 'lost' me. And to think, I did what I did in order to protect someone....
I guess I should out and out say it, since I've admitted it before to a few other Gaians, either to provide a support (maybe two strangers), and as disclosing a deep personal secret to close friends.
But, I think I've spoken about this piece of information before, so I'd rather not say it again... I'll just be vague and annoying as usual.
I wanted to protect a family member by disclosing to the police what had happened to me.
Unfortunately, that family member is the child of the first uncle. He was the one who was living/is living/is no longer living with my grandmother. (We were cut off from the family, and only hear tidbits of information about them from my aunt-second uncle's ex wife to be. )
On Christmas eve of that year (what seemed like a week after the incident occured-it basically was, anyway...), with the desire to inspire family closeness during that troubling time, I wanted to spend it with the family we had there... my mother had no such wish and did not quite beg me not to go, though I could see that wish in her eyes. She understood why I wanted to go, but I didn't understand why she didn't want me to go.
After what I am pretty sure was my absolute worst christmas eve ever, where I was 'attacked' emotionally by uncles one and two, as well as by my grandmother, I opened presents with my adorable little cousins and their mother.
The next morning when I woke up, I was told they were going to the jail to see the person I was responsible for incarcerating. That person needed them more than I needed them, apparently.
I was given some money for food and sent off with my brother and my second uncle's son. We talked, ate, and came back to the house to find it utterly bereft of life. Feeling a bit like I was being paid to be silent, I stuffed the remainder of the money in a stocking and hoped they found it, and wouldn't try to say I'd stolen it... That was the wake up call for me. I felt completely alienated... like I was being treated like some outsider, like I wasn't family, like I was just this stupid thing they had to deal with for a few hours.
I did not appreciate that at all!
And driving home with my brother in the passenger side, blasting "Revelation" by L'arc En Ciel from the Smile album over and over again, with sheets of rain coming down, I couldn't help crying and telling my brother how much bullshit it was... and trying hard to stop crying but not quite being able to keep the tears out of my eyes for very long.
We very nearly got into an accident because of how heavy the rainfall was, but obviously we came out of it alive...
When we got home, I dried my tears and came home to the mother I knew for certain loved and cared about me... and I couldn't help it. I thought she'd hate me for going there in the first place, but she forgave me-understood, even, and did not blame me, much less find it in her heart to do so... and that caused me to break down in front of her, because I felt like such a piece of s**t...
I told her about the Christmas eve and what had happened: the serious conversation/lecture I endured from my first uncle about his thoughts and feelings concerning what I'd done, my grandmother telling me that she would be strong because she just is even though she looked dead inside upon seeing me... my second uncle was there, but I never caught sight of him, save for one glimpse the next morning... and hearing from his son that he didn't want to even look at me, and that he was pissed that I was even there. Good thing I didn't see him, or I would have told him off. The last person to tell me I had ruined Christmas (the b*****d's son) got an earful from me so pure, so short, so full of unbridled rage and indignance, that he couldn't even make a proper, reasonable sounding come back.
I didn't quite realize it at the time, but hearing about what had happened to her two beloved children-and especially me-and seeing me break down and cry and need a hug from her really set her off. She placed a call to uncle number one, more or less telling him that he could feel however the hell he was going to feel about her, but to hurt her children was to bring out the lioness' rage. Oh, that's right... she couldn't tell him, because the cowardly b*****d couldn't even bear to talk to her. D<
She had to say it to his wife, who may or may not have passed on the message that was supposed to be passed on. D<
I still hate him... D<
And truth be told, I've started to hate or at least seriously dislike his wife as well. D<
She may not have been the sourpuss on Christmas eve that her husband and mother in law were being, but she has tried to be supportive of us and supportive of their wants as well, which clash horrendously...
Not to mention a time when my mother had to meet her surreptitiously in a mall for the smallest home of seeing our cousins, only to find that she had delayed, delayed, and delayed some more, then sent the rest of the kids off with her husband-uncle number one, my mother's brother- and taken only the baby... and even then, the interaction was only for a few brief minutes if not seconds.
It's sneaky, two-faced, and I dislike it a great deal. As a result, my mother has decided to cut off contact with her as well...
But I'm still mad! D<
I want to talk to them-all of them...
but I know that were I to do so, I would piss all of them off, if not give cause for a great depression.
It is something that is a small point of pride and shame for me that by telling a person how angry they made me, I severely hurt their feelings. By "severely hurt their feelings" I mean that person tried to commit suicide afterward. @_@;
Hence pride and 'shame.' I am proud that I managed to hurt a person so severely with just my words... but I am ashamed that it was so severe that the person would go to that extreme....
but because of that incident, I learned of the power my words could have, and with such concentrated emotion behind them...
A few months after the incident, the second uncle's son tried to get back in contact with me (due to the stupidity of his father.)
and due to being a jerk, I went off on him. I wrote him a long letter of angry, accusatory words on Myspace (he was the one who wanted to contact me in the first place, and he was the one who set me off.) that I later learned had actually brought him to tears because of how shitty he felt after reading it.
He cried to my grandmother about it, and in some misguided attempt to protect him, spat some bullshit about me, saying I was this horrible person, just attacking a poor, innocent family member for absolutely no reason-for shaaame, FOR SHAAAAME! D<
The worst of it was, it got around to my mother from my aunt (uncle number one's wife, this was when they were still in contact), who asked, "Dude, your daughter made him cry. What the ******** did she tell him? O.o He's saying she said this without provocation. o.o"
It caused my mother needless trouble, but like a good parent should, she came to me and asked if I'd sent the boy a letter. I disclosed that I did, and that I'd been angry, and that what he had said had pissed me off. She asked to read it-I allowed her to do so-and she saw without a doubt that I was completely right, even if I shouldn't have been quite as harsh in my truth as I had been. The letter had brought even her to tears... >_>;
she called that aunt right back and said, "The boy didn't tell you the whole story-big surprise. -_- He provoked her, and you know what? If he's crying about it, then he shouldn't have provoked her. All that happened was she struck back, and if he can't handle that, then tough s**t. He got what he deserved."
The long and short of it was, my mother was the only one who saw the whole letter. The boy was so ashamed or whatever that he wouldn't allow anyone in that household to see the letter...
In a way, I don't blame him: I trashed EVERYBODY in that thing, and I didn't say anything to which could be responsed, "Nuh uh! D<" without that person LYING. D<
I was unkind.
And in the end, my grandmother spat her crap, as did my aunt and that cousin... in truth, I'd like to ask him about it. The last chance I got to speak with him on semi-friendly terms, I asked him why that letter made him cry. He snorted derisively and said he hadn't cried. Bullshit.
And I'm still angry.
And I still want to tell off everyone that lived in that house, save my cousins whom I love dearly... *sigh*
I'm supposed to write this letter to the person I incarcerated-sort of a final farewell... but I don't think I could keep it to a single page.
When I think about what happened too much, my mind is a burning mountain of hatred.
I am almost afraid the person might attempt to commit suicide after hearing that letter.
That's because I am hopeful that the person will be murdered in person about ten years from now. >_<;
And I don't feel that terrible thinking that... because in the end, I am not the one that will be responsible for killing that person. That person is responsible for that person's own destiny.
But, my step dad is home, so my privacy is dead and gone, and I'm going to get yelled at for being up at almost four o clock in the morning. >_<
G'night all...
 Sakura Moonflower · Sat Nov 28, 2009 @ 11:42am · 0 Comments |
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