I am going to start this in the hopes that I can continue. This is my therapy. This is me self-helping. I must go on each day hoping that I will be stronger, better, and happier than the day before it.
I am doing this because for a long time I have been coping. I’ve been shelving so much angst and emotion…unconsciously, of course. These things have to be let out. Deal with them now or suffer from them later. I know it’s going to hurt me. It’s giving me anxiety just thinking about the things I am going to be writing. I am expelling so much shame and guilt. I hope I feel a little less heavy afterwards.
My biggest fear is becoming my mother. I fear for my mental sanity from a biological standpoint. What concerns me the most in this matter is the similarity in personality defects exhibited by both mother and grandmother. If this is indeed biological and i have inherited some bad genes, by all means I must learn how to deal with this mental illness for the rest of my life. I do not believe I have inherited any mental illness, this is just a fear of mine.
Mom always told us growing up that dad was the sick one. This is a large part of my childhood. My parents screaming at each other. Dad gets upset with mom for some reason, mom yells back but is mainly compliant. She shrugs it off, “Benny is bipolar.” This confuses me for a large part of my youth into my late teens.
Early memories of my mom… We used to be very close. She would pick me up from preschool. I would go on a lot of errands with her. She would love to take me out to eat. We would go to BJs Fish & Chips, an old-fashioned type of place, we would sit at the counter, she let me get my own basket. There was an old school Pacman machine. There were lots of times going through mcdonalds, just me & her. I realize now that my mother greatly associates food with comfort.
Strange things start happening in my life. I have many suppressed and blurred memories from my elementary school years. I do not like being the youngest of four children. I often feel lonely and don’t like that my sister won’t play with me. I make friends at school but am shy. I ask my brother if I can use some of his coloring markers. He writes me a note in green ink and says that in exchange for me borrowing them, I have to let him strip search me. I do not know what it means to strip search but I know that it’s something cops do to criminals. When he touches me I feel sick and sweaty. He tells me not to tell anyone because they will be mad at me. I am compliant. Many years continue of sexual molestation, including sex. I feel that I am doing something wrong. Issues with my parents continue. Their fighting is always bad. Dad takes a job in San Jose. He is gone except on weekends when he comes home. I like when dad is home, he spoils me and we are very close. Financially my family is doing well.
Mom leaves one night with our neighbor. I do not know where she goes but find out it is to San Jose. When she comes back she does not talk to us. This is the first time I see my mother fade away. One day I am sitting downstairs. Mom is upstairs in her room, I hear her call nicole into her room. I hear nicole yell out, “no!” She leaves the room, crying and infuriated. To this day I do not know what she said to her.
The strange behavior in the house continues. I ask the neighbor, hope, who is at our house what is wrong with my family. She tells me that my mom went to my dads in San Jose. When she opened the door a woman was there in a robe. My dad was getting out of the shower. There was a condom in the garbage can. I do not remember how old I am but I have no idea what a condom is and hope is reluctant to tell me.
I am severely depressed. My mom spends a lot of time in her room. My dad calls on the phone one day and asks to speak to my mom. She picks up the phone upstairs and goes into our bathroom. I pick up the receiver downstairs and listen to my mom sobbing on the phone. I do not listen for long, I put on rollerblades and go outside. I feel sad and scared that my family is falling apart.
When I am 10 years old I beg for a dog. I promise I will be a good owner and pick up his poop. My dad thinks it’s a good idea to have a protector around. A teacher from my school has just had a litter of puppies. They are golden retrievers. I get to go to the house to meet the very last one. He has a mangled tail because it was run over by a skateboard, but I’m promised that it will heal just fine and it eventually does. When I visit the puppy he is busy swimming in the pool. I love him a lot and decide I must have him. We get to take him home soon. I name him Maximus. I love him very very much. When I cry he puts his head near mine. He has to sleep outside. I am not a good owner to him, I never take him on walks. He cries a lot at night and I don’t know how to take care of him. His death is the worst thing to ever happen to me, I feel regret and sadness over his loss.
….enough for tonight.