I love this week’s stream of consiousness Saturday by LindaGHill with the prompt word “why” because just last night I asked “Why do I keep dreaming of the lake house I grew up at and the lake? Why? I’m so sick of dreaming of that place.” This prompt gives the the perfect way to open my mind and write all that comes to it to try and figure out WHY? Why can’t I let go of the house and lake even in my dreams? Why does my family that has abandoned me still haunt me? I am definitely not released!
I always thought my parents divorced because of the result of me being molested since they divorced shortly after my attempted suicide and everything coming to light of being abused and subsequently being put in a mental hospital. I always asked myself why they didn’t work. I wondered why most of my life. Why didn’t they move from that house after I was abused. Why was my brother allowed to ski with the man who abused me. Why did my brother buy our lake house when mom remarried, only to sell it years later and come back and still ski on that lake with the ski team. He could let go of his house of dreams and perfect childhood but not the evils of the ski team?Why? Why everything? I always thought I was the root of the why. I always blamed myself for everything. It all must have been me that muddied up the waters. 3 years ago my entire family left me for good. It must have been me right? Why not? I have a muscle disease, I broke silence, I have PTSD. That’s why…
Last night I had a dream that gave me a perspective I had forgotten. The dream enlightened me to the deep dysfunction of my family.
We moved to that lake when I was 4 years old and my nana lived across the lake from us. My Nana loved me more than anyone I believed. I felt loved by her. In my dream I was shown Nana, late in her life, right before she died and was being put in a nursing home. I was shown how much my mother loved my Nana (her mother). Then all of these other little bits fell into fragments throughout my dream. All of my dream was memories of true events. What was clear is that my mother loved her mother very much and when her mother died, when Nana died, I don’t know if my mother knew how to really love like that again. She certainly did not know how to keep loving me. I never knew her strong bond with her mother until I saw it in the dream and then remembered their love. But that didn’t answer all my whys.
When I was around 10 my mother, and her sister’s family decided to drive to Maine to have see my great grandparents home. We drove so that we could see New York and all of the sights along the way. My aunt’s little boy was around 2 at the time and I spent most of my time with him. I adored him. Along this trip my parents argued. In the middle of the trip my father just up and left. One moment there, one moment gone. I know the rest of the family was giving him a hard time because he liked to take his time at each place we stopped and really absorb the moments. They were upset that he wanted to stop at the war memorial and wanted to read the names of those who died. They were all so annoyed with this. I don’t know why he left the family vacation, specifically, because I was so young, but he did. It was bizarre as a child to see this. I look back now at my mistakes at thinking they divorced because of me, remembering they had dysfunction way before anything happened to me! Who leaves a family vacation half way through? Someone very unhappy?
Then I remembered how my Nana had a falling out with her other daughter’s husband, my uncle. I don’t know why. I just know that there were words spoken and my uncle didn’t bring his kids anymore to visit the lake just my aunt did. What happened there? Why did they have a falling out?
Then I remembered how my Nana was abused by a member of our family in a sick sexually abusive way. I have specific memories of the cover up of what he did. The whispers of how it would not be spoken of because he did it to everyone else in the family too. Ken. I will speak his name as his actions do not deserve anonymity any longer. I will not keep sexual abuse secrets ANYMORE.
All of these fragments I had in my dreams last night.
My aunt was jealous that Nana spent more time with my brother and me than her own children. I heard this with my own ears as a child. I remember this all like it was yesterday.
My father divorced my mother and started a new life with his new family. There have been tidbits of information about my father that I have been given in my older years now. There were things I saw myself of him kissing another woman (that was totally innocent ofcourse because my father was just fun and friendly like that everyone said). When my father left my mother he left for reasons I still do not know. But he left my brother and me too. We accepted the little tiny bits of himself he would ration to us throughout our adult years but for all intents and purposes my father divorced his ENTIRE family.
My mother married 3 times and the husband that she currently has, before writing me a hideous letter saying I was no longer welcome in the family, had asked ME to do an intervention on my mother for how awful she made everyone feel. His words, not mine. He drove me home one night and asked me to be there for this intervention. He wanted my brother and me and him to sit down and talk to her about how badly she made us feel. He was speaking for himself. He is a coward. He could not speak up for himself but wanted his wife’s children to speak for him. He wanted us to save his marriage. For fuck’s sake man be a husband and speak your own words! But he never did. He just stood by her and spewed venom to me like the snake that he was. That was 3 years ago I know why he did that. He had to choose. Everyone had to choose. Me or her. They chose her. I know why. It’s sad. But I know why. The abused child doesn’t get chosen even when grown. It just doesn’t work that way. Ask 90% abused victims or probably half of my blog followers!!!
All night long I had these dreams of these parts of this family. My brother skiing with the team that stood against me and all of the abuse I endured. His betrayal. The cover up of my own Nana’s abuse against a member of our family who is STILL covering him up which is sickening(fortunately he is dead so he can’t molest anyone else).
Then my mother’s sister and her husband, the jealousy, the arguments. Each person in my family had their own shit. And it was THEIR OWN. The betrayals, the infidelities. My mother telling us she had had another child that we didn’t even know about who then entered our lives. My twin brother who wanted nothing to do with him but apparently has worked through that as they “appear” buds now.
I have wondered why.
Why do I keep going back to that lake in my dreams?
Why do I keep going back to that house in my dreams?
Why have I felt all these years, have I allowed them to make me feel it is all because of me? Why did I let my entire family make me look like I was the bad guy so they could walk away from me and never talk to me again?
Now I know.
It has nothing at all to do with me.
It has nothing to do with me being abused.
It has nothing to do with my current health issues.
I am the only one in the family who has PTSD because of what SOMEONE ELSE DID. Each one of them are fucked up all on their own. I can’t help having triggers and PTSD. They can each help being assholes who betray and lie and abandon and live and die by their pride.
Thinking now about the dreams I have had and the dream I had last night makes everything clear. There were dark things going on in my family that had nothing to do with me. Each one of them had their own dysfunction. I was just that little girl who got molested all in the middle of it all and tossed aside as soon as it was finally convenient enough to do so.
The why was never me.
The why was always them.