Is There A Possibility Of Change?

How far will a lie take you? It took me over 4,480 miles. I was working full time and going to school full time. No clue what I wanted to with my life, but knew I wasn’t in the life I wanted to be in. My life at home was not happy. Didn’t have close friends for support. Life at work was good. I was called a “go getter” by my boss which encouraged me. I worked really hard and worked two jobs. Then I discovered that I was getting jipped. The not go “go getter” co-workers were making WAY more money than I was for the same work. I wish I could have stood up for myself, I wish I knew how. I didn’t. What I knew how to do was run. So I did what any reasonable person would do told my boss I was moving to Hawai’i and needed to quit. Are you sure? I’ll pay you more? Well, if that’s what you decided I wish you the best.

That moment I knew I didn’t want to be where I was but I also wish I had the power within me to stand up for myself instead of being pushed around by everyone like I was at home and now at work. At home my mom was always miserable always complaining about something, that is until company comes over. Then she transforms into this laughing and “understanding” person. She talks to me sweetly. Asks me kindly to get stuff for her and expounds her wisdom to guests on how children should be raised and what people should do. Of course prior to this in preparation for guests she was a mess. Yelling for things to get cleaned up. Mumbling under her breath how she has to prepare everything for everyone and slamming dishes because no one can do anything right. We have to scramble and be on our toes when the guests come. The house is never clean enough, the kids are never good enough, but the guests oh my they are the kings of the world and so we must kneel before them and put on our facade to hide a sham of a family.

My dad was not much better. Opposite of my mom he was calm. Calm but usually disapproving. As Mt. St. Helens appeared calm befor her devastating 1980 eruption my dad would be calm with some outbursts or complaints to let of his steam but the top would blow off when he drank. And drink he did. One bottle wasn’t enough and one night wasn’t enough. He would stack them up day after day, sometimes for weeks. Go to bed drunk, wake up drunk, and then stay drunk. I was scared and I became the child that didn’t want to tip the scale. I listened, did as I was told, and became the “responsible one.” As a child I became an adult. There was no time for innocence or play there was work and pain. When my parents would argue and sometimes physically. I lay in bed crying. One time I peeked through the door to see my dad hit my mom. She had a bloody nose then. I was always told to go away and I obliged.

My dad was very abusive towards my mom from the beginning of their marriage I’m told. But one day the abuse stopped. Naturally as all natural disasters stop they wreak havoc on their path. During a nice summer day I was on the porch coloring and had my coloring tools in my pink barbie lunch box. It was set on top of the table. My dad came home drunk after doing some electrical work for some people. He asked me where my sister was and she was across the street talking to a neighbor. He flung my box of crayons out of anger and I crying went to pick them to run away to my room. I don’t remember if he told her to come home or waited for her but when she came he erupted. He started hitting my sister, then my mom, and once they escaped to the yard or alley he came looking for me. This was the first time he ever hit me. He slapped me with his backhand so hard I fell into the bed and it left a red mark on my face. My mom and sister came rushing looking for me and got me outside to safety where my sister called 911. My dad spent the night in jail. The following day some cops came by our house asking if my mom would press charges. The cop turned to me and said look what he’s done but my mom chose not to. So he came back. From that day on he would continue to binge drink but he did not hit. Arguments would erupt but he knew better now. Although, he would remark, “you guys landed me in jail.”

Now I’m back. Traveled the 4,480 journey again and as an adult I am supposed to take care of these people who neglected to take care of me. I am responsible to be again where they tell me I’m supposed to be and do what they tell me to do. I refuse. I am angry, bitter, and sad. I left home, tried to live on my own but to no avail. I’m in pieces and have no solid foundation to stand on. I am back in my misery with them. It’s not as bad but the psychological tricks are still there. The triggers are even worse and I’m at a loss as to how I can escape this situation. When I was on my own it was still as if I was in their prison. I didn’t feel free emotionally or as a person. But I did notice I was able to make friends, people appreciated me and I wasn’t this unfortunate thing that happened to be walking the earth. However, the scars were unhealed. When talking to people I still looked for a face that was going to be disapproving and tell me to shut up. Not with words but with their look, or by talking over me because what I had to say didn’t matter. I was just to be there where they needed me. To help them when they needed me to. I don’t know how to shatter these mental shackles, how to forgive them. Hate is boiling within me now and I am seeing myself transform into them in ways I do not like. I am scared if I remain here that is what will become of me because I see them as guards of my torture. Yet, they remain bewildered at why I would want to leave them or their house. And I am angry for allowing myself to come back into their trap. I am back I say because my dad is ill and that is true I could not forgive myself if I was away and my dad died without getting proper treatment. Since my sister and brother will be too bothered and “don’t know” how to help him, I’m told. But what about me? It seems it’s up to me no one will come to my rescue. How do I navigate out of this in a healthy way without damaging my relationship with them but without compromising myself?
Pcelica Pcelica
22-25, F
Jan 11, 2013