Before I started this "journey" I felt it was necessary to talk to my Mama & my sister just to make sure it wouldn't upset them or piss them off. True, I am putting my story out there but it is their story in a lot of ways too.... Which in turn made me realize that yes, I'm still an enabler and secondly their responses shocked me. My Mom instantly told me she thought it was a good idea that would most probably help me in my healing etc.... and my sister was adamant that I do it but not to forget what a good person I was. There responses made my decision to do this blog seem more than right.
If I am totally honest I wasn't worried about my Mom's reaction. She's gone thru her own hell and thankfully come out the other side stronger and better. She works on herself every day and is happy!!! I love seeing her happy! She and I talk quite often about the time during my childhood and later on, the abuse (emotional, physical), what it was like for us individually and together. It's amazing how we coped and how we survived. My Mother found solace in a bottle and well, I didn't really find solace for a long, long time.
As for my sister she and I have a difficult and extremely hard to define relationship. I am not sure if she feels the same way but I've always felt a huge divide between us and for two people who were raised in the same house we are really nothing alike. It sucks... I mean this is the sibling I wished for, literally.
One of my most vivid memories was every night when I said my prayers before bed I'd ask God for a baby brother or sister. Months and months of prayers and then all out begging my Mama.... Then one day my Mama and Step Dad, Ed, came home from a buisiness trip and gave me a wishing star. It was just a clear plastic star with water and glitter in it. Well, morning and night I 'd shake the hell out of that thing and ask for a baby brother or sister. Finally, my Mama told me I was getting a sister!!! To say I was excited was an understatement.... Things were already horrible with my step dad and well I kind of figured having a baby sister would be something good.
To understand the dynamic/relationship between Ed and I guess I should start from the beginning.... My Mom and Dad were married in 1967... He was wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy older than her, around 30 yrs give or take a few. Anyhow, they tried to have kids and were unable so on May 27th 1974 I was brought home from Charleston, SC. to NJ. The perfect bought baby... LOL
From what my Mama has told me the marriage was strained from family interferrance, his, since she was younger and not from money etc etc.... (Sounds like a movie or book script doesn't it?) Then because our family can only have bad luck my Daddy got sick and he was diagnosed with Alzheimers. So now my Mama had a toddler and a husband who needed constant attention.
Mama would tell you at around this time her drinking became more of a crutch than social. Especially when she had to deal with his family. I think the word acrimonious has their picture next to it in the dictionary. Aside from my Aunt Anna. She was my cool spinster Aunt who never gave my Mama crap or treated me like a bastard child.
Needless to say my Mama had to make the tough decision to put my Daddy in a nursing home, yep... that went over really well with his family, not! I never understood how they thought she could take care of me who was just a toddler, him who was becoming more and more erratic and couldn't care for himself??
Around this time my Granny came up from Florida to help out. Mama worked part time with an attorney who was a family friend and we went and saw Daddy whenever we could.
One of my most best memories of this time is sitting on his lap on the patio of the nursing home, feeding him and cleaning his face with a napkin. It was a sunny day and Mama and Aunt Anna were there and to a small child he seemed happy. Those days though were few and far between. Some days he would scream & cuss when I would bouncd into his room and say he didn't know me or he'd call me by the wrong name. I would cry of course... I just didn't understand. I know I didn't really know him but I loved my Daddy. He was my one and only... I still miss him, even being adopted I look at pictures of him and I and think we kind of look alike.
The ides of March 1978 brought the death of my Daddy. My Mama was told it'd be best if I didn't go to the wake or funeral and in the end she aquiesced and I never got to say good bye to him. I can't express how much that still hurts even today or how many times I just wanted my Daddy. Even now...
My Mama being of the generation that was all about getting married and have a family started dating about 6 months after he passed away. One man was a butcher with 11 kids and lets just say I made it quite apparent I didn't wanna be the 12th!!! He was just weird but I think he thought I was the devil since I'd take the dolls he brought me and take their heads, arms and legs off and creatively reaarange them. ;)
Then Mama was asked out by Ed. I didn't like him from the get go and even better Granny didn't either. He was older than my Mama by the same amount as my Daddy, had a fake smile and I just knew he was a bad man. My Mama saw stability for herself and her family and to be honest he just sucked her right on in. Played on her emotions, said and did all the right things. Four dates and a Tiffany ring and he had her and me, instant family.
I didn't learn until much later he was actually part of their social circle atleast on the periphery and he was involved in some of the same charitable organizations. Going to galas etc etc... The see & be seen while donating money.
He started the striving for "perfection". He got a readymade family that fit into the perfect vision he had. The beautiful wife, cute daughter, beautiful house... It was good for his career, it made him look good to the public and well it just looked really pretty. The only thing he didn't count on was me... Oh and my Granny.
Right before the wedding he pulled me aside and essentially demanded I'd call him Dad or Daddy because he "was" my Daddy now. I told him I already had one and he wasn't my Dad. (I was almost 5, what did he expect?) He told me my dad was dead and never coming back so I'd better get used to calling him Dad. Yea.... Not sure how he thought that was going to work out...
After the wedding I basically ignored him. He terrified me. He wasn't even trying to be nice anymore, my Mama and him fought a lot and Mama started drinking a lot more. The only times that I was comfortable in the house was when he was out late at buisiness meetings or on buisiness trips. Then it was me, Mama, Granny and Cynthia our housekeeper. I felt safe, even with the drinking....
Even though Granny and Cynthia weren't fond of him, to put it lightly, they encouraged me to try and give him a chance. Now that I think about it I realize the situation must have been killing my Mama so they were jut trying to help her. So, I worked hard at making him like me maybe even love me but it seemed he had given up on me. Of wanting a real relationship with me.... I was never good enough... I was too loud or too quiet. I didn't eat enough or fussed over eating a brussel sprout. I was ungrateful, I was too messy and I made my Mama sad.... I was fucking 5!! I still tried though. I tried to be the little girl he wanted.... and then Joanne was born. I was so happy, Mama was happy and he was happy. He got "his" baby. She was perfect... blonde, blue eyed adorable. And she was all his... and all of a sudden the only time he ever paid me any mind except on a rare occasion was when he was telling me how bad I was, stupid I was, how fat I was etc etc... In his mind he had his child and I was just baggage. Funny.... he treated Mama the same way.
Ok, I think I rambled quite enough.... I really didn't expect to write so much....
Bye for now
~LilBitch
I think the differences between us were because we were both adopted from separate families and we got very unlucky with genetics! Personality is nearly all genetic. We ended up complete opposites of each other!
ReplyDeleteIt was very clear I was dad's favorite, you're absolutely right. Not right for him to treat you the way he did. It was clear you were mom's favorite as well. It wasn't right for our parents to choose favorites, but we were both children and we both had nothing to do with their decisions and their faults and problems.