Sunday, 16 July 2017

Drunken blogging

hmm, drunken blogging ... seems like a good idea. Thank god for spell check cuz my fingers are not working well.
But drunk ... things tend to fall out that otherwise wouldn't. And sometimes that's a good thing.

This might be a bit of a trigger post for some so you might wanna stop reading here.

I have a few things on my mind tonight. I don't know how, 4 shooters and 2 drinks later, my brain is mostly mush. But let's give it a shot anyway.

Garf is not sleeping in bed tonight. And it's killing me. He's my anchor and when he's not here I lose myself all the way. He's my best friend, my person. I don't know how it's possible to fight without hardly saying anything at all, but that's what we do.



It's been a really hard week for me.

For some reason, every now and then the past will creep up and grab hold. Most times, I can shake it off and toss it right back where it belongs. Sometimes I can't. This week was one of those times it sunk it's teeth in and just wouldn't let go. Partly due to pms, chronic pain, and Garf just not being home or having the energy to deal with me. It all played a part in breaking me.

Somewhere around the time I was 10, maybe 11, maybe 12, I honestly don't remember, my brother introduced me to the fine art of giving a blow job. And a a couple other things. He didn't "rape" me ... he just raped my soul, for lack of a better way to put it. This is going back at about 30 years, and mostly ... I've let it go. Until the days when it seems I haven't. This last week was one of those days ... weeks, that it really got to me. Because it's not just about what HE did. It's about what I did.

I never once said no. Granted, I was kinda stoned at the time and 11. And I idolized my big brother. But ... any good Catholic girl knows this isn't right. I didn't care. My big brother was awfully proud of what his little sister could do. And that was pretty much all that mattered. But see .. the worst part is ... I was so damn curious about sex and anything to do with sex. And I never said, "No." And THAT is what kills me. Every. Fucking. Time.

I sat down with my father once. We shared a bottle of Southern Comfort, straight. Can you say drunk? And everything tumbled out. And he said ... I still can't believe what he said ... "I had a feeling something was going on."

What? You're fucking kidding me. "Why didn't you do something?" I don't even know now if he gave me kind of answer. Knowing my dad, he probably said something like, "Jesus was there with you the whole time."  Really? Thanks for that Dad. My question to him was why didn't HE do something. It was his damn job to protect me. That's what dads do, right?

But it didn't matter. Because in the end ... I never said no. I never told anyone. I just ... learned to live with it. What scares me is I can still talk to him today and act as if nothing every happened. I never learned to hate him. He was my big brother. He looked out for me. Hard to say that considering. But he did. Because there was so much else going on then. It was us against them.

So ... there's that. But ... sometimes there's dreams. Maybe memories. I'm not sure and I don't know that I want to know. I didn't have just one brother.

But still ...  the one thing that gets me, the one thing I've never said to anyone before, that I barely admitted to myself. I never said no.

And that was just ... one part of being me growing up. Just one.

I will probably never forgive my father. Because it was his damn job to protect me and he was too busy spouting God at us to give a shit. If it wasn't for my mother I'd probably never see him again and not be too sorry about it.
But there's my... she has Alzeimer's and cancer and she's almost 82 years old. She can't last forever. Though I wish like hell she would. She's not blameless, but her, I can forgive. Because at least I felt like I had a mother.

I never had a father.


Now it's Garf's job to take care of me. Problem is, only thing he has to protect me from is myself. And that is one hellishly hard job. I'm self destructive on a good day. On a bad day ... I'll take out anyone in my path.

Some days ... it's just too much all at once.

So, all in all, this has been a lousy week. The physical pain took over and opened the gates for the emotional. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it knocks me right on my ass. And when Garf abandons me, I want nothing more than to just give up. Because he's my anchor and when he's not anchoring, I drift so damn far away I'm not always sure I'm coming back.



2 comments:

  1. Do you have an email address I can contact you on Penny please? I'd like to discuss this a bit more with you and maybe offer some help but not on here.
    Lindy

    ReplyDelete