Amazed

Wow. I mean, I don’t really know what else to say. The response to my entry from last night was overwhelming. I can’t even explain to you how much the supportive tweets, messages, and comments meant to me. A part of me really was terrified that people would ridicule me for posting that. I guess I feel like what I went thought isn’t “legit” enough to be classified as “abuse”. And even now as I sit here writing this, my best friend is sitting doing homework across from me and keeps giving me weird looks due to the contemplative look I have on my face. If someone I didn’t know, or even a friend of mine, told me my story, I would feel awful, and I would definitely classify it as abuse, but because it’s me, I have a hard time doing that. Why is that I wonder?

            To those of you who shared your story with me, however similar or dissimilar it was, just know that you aren’t alone. If there is one thing I can contribute to this world, I hope that just one person knows that they aren’t the only one struggling through the abuse, or struggling through dealing with past abuse. And as selfish as it is, I’m relieved to know that I am not alone. I’m not the only one who is going through this. And as relieved as I am, it also saddens me that any one else has to go through it. Does that make sense? I know it’s very contradictory, but I have so many emotions going nine million different ways on this topic.

            Strength. So many of you told me that I was a strong girl for writing this. I don’t feel strong. I feel weak. I feel weak for never realizing what was happening during this. I feel weak for not urging my mother to get herself, and my brothers and I out of the situation sooner. I feel weak for even considering that I was abused, knowing that so many of you out there are currently going through, or have gone through much much worse. I feel weak for not being able to just forget it and move on. And mostly, I feel weak for not hating him, for still seeking his approval and affection. I constantly want his approval, to make him proud, and it’s like he will never give it to me. I tell him I got a 98 percent on a test in one hard class, and he ignores that and asks about another hard class he knows I am struggling with. He asks about my finals, I explain and mention that my grade really depends on my final in Physics, and he sneers that he knows how it works, he has a bachelors and three masters degrees, and then sarcastically goes “but I’m sure college is so much harder now.” And yet, I still want to explain, still want him to tell me he’s proud of me.

            He’s coming to visit at the end of this month. I haven’t seen him since August, and I didn’t live with him this summer, so I really haven’t spent any prolonged period of time with him since the summer of 2011. I don’t really know how to act or what to expect. The part of me that constantly seeks his love and approval keeps saying “maybe he’s changed.” Yet, every time he does something nice, its followed by the same angry, destructive nature that characterized our relationship throughout my childhood. So why should I believe that he will change now? At what point do I throw in the towel?

            To those of you struggling to move past and deal with the repercussions of childhood abuse, I understand. To those of you who have survived, and who are thriving, I admire you so much. To those of you who are currently being abused, I’ve been there – I know you probably don’t see anything wrong with what is happening to you, but you feel lonely, worthless, hopeless, know that that isn’t normal. Talk to someone, anyone. It WILL get better. I promise. Each one of you is blessed and are going to do something special with your life, I know I am going to with mine.

            xoxo - J