Forgiveness

About two years ago I bought The Courage to Heal. I was finally ready to confront this dark area of my past. I always thought, at the time, that there were certain sections I would never need. I would never need the confrontation/disclosure section or the forgiveness part. I reasoned that I would never see my cousin again because I was not in contact with my aunt, his mom. At the time I never saw that changing. I also thought I’d never forgive my mom or my brother. To me, at the time, forgiveness was giving too much up- I thought then that it meant what they did was okay. I still felt that way even though I had forgiven my father, who was mildly abusive when I was a kid, and he and I started fresh and it has been great.

Then, I attempted suicide. And in that attempt I had written a suicide letter to my mother. The letter has been shredded and thrown away since then, but I’ll never forget what I wrote at the end of the letter. It said, “I forgive you.” I have no memory of much of that night or what led up to it and for at least a week after. But I remember that even after my counselor shredded all the letters. For whatever reason, in what I thought were the last few breaths, I sought to forgive her. I always thought that my last parting words to her would be full of malice for what she put me through. But it wasn’t, not even close.

Then came the time about a month ago when I decided I wanted to find my lost family. That meant finding the mother of my abuser. I was actually hoping that he would be long gone or in jail at this point. I found his mother and we had a great visit. I also learned that the cousin was in town. He had been to jail and all kind of things. But I sat there and listened to my aunt and she said basically- I know my son has done some bad things and still might (alcohol and drugs), but he is my son and I love him. I felt compassion for the first time- mainly for his mom and maybe a little for him. I thought to myself- how can I ever tell her what her son did to me. I asked myself if I could take it if I didn’t tell her- do I want to risk losing her again? I think I am strong enough within myself to not tell her. I am already healing from the abuse and other people do know. What would I gain from breaking my silence there? So far, not enough gain. That’s when the word forgive came to my mind again.

I also talked to my aunt about my mother. At one point I admitted to her that I felt sad for my mom. She was surprised I would say that. Basically, my mom does live a lie much of the time. She stays in contact with her super abusive father. But he spared her- she did not know of the abuse that her siblings faced. My mom lived in her own little world even as a child. That was sad to me- that she could not see people for all their goodness. She just judges and pushes people. She will never ever know the depths of joy that I can feel because I also allow myself to feel sadness and anger deeply. And I see the beauty in people even if they are not near perfect or they screw up. I am sad because she does miss out on a lot of great relationships because she refuses to just accept and love someone for who they are. That is when the word forgive came to my mind yet again.

I know forgiveness of self comes first and I believe that I have that. So now I wonder if I have a new definition of forgiveness. I know that it’s not saying what they did was right. It is more about letting go- on my side of things. I think I have secretly already forgiven my mom, I just don’t want to admit it yet. I think I truly forgave her that one dark night. I find my self-talk saying she is the way she is and I still love her. I will do what I can and be there for her despite everything and she is family- and I realize what I will and will not get from her. She is my flesh and blood and the only mom I'll ever have. Forgiveness would help me let go of the anger…so that I can do the very thing she will never be able to do- love unconditionally.

Forgiving my cousin is a little different. I believe I have a lot of anger toward him that I don’t let go of- it sits there. And I don’t get very far- I wish to be intimate with no one. But it’s been a good ten years now since I’ve both seen him and since he did anything to me. Now, there have been others to hurt me sexually but that’s a different story for a different day. For a long time I thought forgiving him meant that what he did was okay. But maybe forgiveness is just a way to get on with our lives. I see his mom now and I don’t want to stop- I want to stay in contact with her. Not forgiving him and breaking my silence could end that…or she could end it with him- I don’t know. But I don’t think I really want to find out. Forgiving him really means that I will have relations with his mom and it means that I will spare her from knowing what happened. It will only bring pain and I just don’t want to do that. Forgiving him will get rid of the elephant in the room. Now, this all may change when I actually see him again- so we shall see. But somehow…I finally feel the need to just let go. Forgiveness would allow me to let go.

I guess Kiandra is right- never say never. These are new feelings for me, but I am open to them. Or maybe they have always been there and I’ve just been too closed up to let them touch me. I am in a new place in my life and maybe forgiveness is part of that new life.

Strong Enough

What exactly has been my problem the last few days? That’s what I have been asking myself. Then I realize a lot has gone on. I mean, I did talk to family that I haven’t spoken to or seen anywhere from ten to fifteen years ago. Then, I talked to my mom about it. Then I’ve had work issues, as in too much. Did I really think I could have gotten through this week without much of a problem. I say yes, even though now I see how deluded it is.

First, there is the issue of seeing the family. It’s a lot to take in. I know so many lies have been spoken and yet here are more sides to the story. Many times I just smile and nod. But it is a burden unraveling it all. But still, it was a great turn of events I think. I just forgot how much it took out of me. Plus, I know I will see that one cousin who sexually abused me at some point...and that will push me as far as what forgiveness really means and who deserves it and who is it really for. Talk about a head job.

Then I immediately returned to work and there is so much to do. Then my boss is having problems with me because while I rock at therapy, I suck at paperwork. But I think she was being overly hard. Plus, she herself told me to work less hours, but it’s almost impossible when I get in trouble for not answering my phone or email for a day. Still, it’s the work with the kids that is stressful- so much to do and so little time.

Third, my mother. I told her who I have seen and who I’ve talked to. She says she misses my aunt, her sister, a ton. She was like, I bet she didn’t talk to me because I pushed her. I just sat there- it was more than that. And my mom doesn’t get it…she just doesn’t. The whole acceptance piece of things. Then we got into her mother. She once again told me how crazy she was. I just sat there and looked at her and reminded her- I’m crazy too. And I tell her I don’t want to hear what she has to say- it doesn’t matter because I’m a grown adult and can make my own damn decisions.

I remember now that part of the reason I lost so much family was because of the burden having them around really is- my mom makes it hard. I still love her so much and I want to believe her, but I know I can’t. And then, I don’t know who to believe. And that is hard. Very hard.

I’m also on edge because I can’t afford about three of my medications because insurance is taking time to kick in. I see the difference it makes. I’m still doing okay, but it’s hard, I’m on the razors edge as far as moods go. I don’t want anyone around and I want to redo my whole room and just get refocused. But it’s hard to do that right now.

Though things are falling apart, that doesn’t mean I have to fall apart. I’m eating right still, working, sleeping, exercising (finally) and working through things. In the past I would just fall apart…this time I take care of things before they fall apart. That at least feels good.

I went down a whispering well and have come back up. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think I was strong enough- I know I am strong enough. But I can still say it hurts or that it makes me sad- the emotions are very real. But I’m strong enough to take it and work through it in a healthy way. That makes me proud inside. Things will be okay, I do know that.

Secrets and Lies and Truth

I found out many things about my family on this trip, including the many secrets, lies and truth that exists. I knew starting out that when I heard what someone had to say, to take with a grain of salt. Each person seems to have some version of the truth- the version they believe. It is not my duty to necessarily find THE truth, but to find out the truth that everyone believes.

I know I'll never get a straight answer about my maternal grandmother. Everyone seems to have their say of what happened to them and to what degree they do not like her. I think I will just take her as she is and not judge her by what happened in the past. So far she has been okay to me and I am okay with that truth.

I think I did find out quite a bit about my cousins, especially on my mom's side. It appears almost all have children before they were twenty, are alcholics and druggies. I'm not entirely surprised, but I am a little. My aunt asked me how I did it- how I rose above it all. I told her it was about choice, because it is. I made a choice when I was young that I would strive to succeed in this world and not do what my family history was at the time. I saw what was not working- the lives shattered, the abuse, the divorce, the hate. Though my life was never great, I went through my share of bad times, I made a conscious choice to do good. I think back to my favorite line, "I never saved anything for the swim back." I didn't, I kept going without looking back until I could afford to, which is now.

I have gained some new cousins though! Aunt "Kara" has a son that is fourteen named "Jared." He is also doing very well and I'm happy to be a part of his life now. Her other son is another story, but another one who made bad choices. My dad's sister, aunt "Cate" was awesome. Though some of her sons have not done so well, they seem to be pulling themselves out of it and I think they'll be just fine. But she has two new kiddo's that are seven and four. I adore them and it will rock to be their older cousin :-) It's great...I just feel connected now. It's not me all alone anymore.

Another great thing was being able to just be me. That means open conversations about mental illness, mental wellness, old scars, the abuse and the future. Never did I feel like I couldn't say something. That is an awesome feeling. With all of my step side of the family- I felt like a secret- I could never say anything really...I could only talk about the good, or the weather or a hobby. I couldn't say, "Hey Ms. "Fisk," what do you think about bipolar?" Yeah right.

Sometimes I wonder though...is it the step grandparents or whoever...or is it my mom? She is the one who says, don't say this or don't say that. I wonder what would happen if I did. Mom could be right, who knows...not me. More secrets, lies and hidden truth.

My real truth? I finally feel apart of a family. They accept and love me for who I am. They are like me- I see myself in so many members of the family. I can look at pictures and know my family. Sure, lot of bad news coarsing through our family...but we are all recovering and doing pretty damn good. These days I see that I am not the only one making good choices. The bad choices seemed to be the popular ones for all of my cousins and our generation, but there is a new generation of cousins making the good choices. And for a few, like Aunt Cate's, they are returning to the good choices. I will be the first to hold a college degree, but I can see now that I won't be the last.

Dar Williams says the truth is like a second chance and I think she is right. Even if I was given lies this trip around...I found my own truth that I didn't even know I was searching for. That I belong to a family...that despite my life and genes I am doing very well and I will have a great life ahead of me. I can see that despite all of the bad choices I made...in the end my good choices are winning. I never thought I'd see that day...but here it is. That is my truth.

Family

Family. It’s an interesting concept really, if you think about it. A bunch of people tied together through blood and genes. Sometimes I think of it in those terms, but it must be more than that.

I arrived today at my Nana’s (Dad’s mom) knowing that I could wear short sleeves, though my scars are a bright and dark red. I arrived knowing I could raise any subject and it was okay- things are out in the open. I could ask her questions knowing she would give me answers that she thought were true. When I’m a guest, I always like to instantly help with the dishes and cooking and setting the table- all of that. Each time I rose to get out of my seat, she made me sit back down. Told me I was her guest. She let me bring my dog.

This is my family. My Nana asked me all kinds of questions about what I went through. An open conversation about mental illness and the whole therapy process- never in my mothers life would that happen. My aunt asked me questions tonight- she really wanted to understand. Partly because one son has cerebral palsy and other disorders. But- how great to just be accepted.

I have spent the past two days with people that look like me, act like me and love me. I can’t put into words what this weekend is going and already means to me. I never imagined this would be the effect. I went here searching for my mothers family, but what I am quickly learning is that I am finding myself through my fathers family as well.

I spent so much of my life under a perfection microscope and then living with my life as a secret. There were so many things I could or could not do because of what someone might say or think. Here…all I have to do is be myself to have their love. They love me just because I exist and I am family. I don’t feel out of place here. I think I found my place.

I’m starting to feel whole again. I say again because I can remember times when I was around seven where I felt family- I had a mom and dad, two sets of grandparents, two sets of aunts and uncles and I felt loved. Sure, lots of abuse was going on at the time, but I don’t think it seemed as bad because I felt loved, even if just by my cousin Adam. And that made the difference. Memories are returning to me now. This is a journey. This is my family and I feel…different. I love this. I love my family.