Tell me something I can't forget...

“Tell me something I can’t forget…”


…here in ‘good girl’ and ‘guilt’ land, the lifetime-land where I take care of everyone else’s needs, bow and curtsey to anyone loud enough (or enough of a bully) to push me around and make me afraid (easily done, unfortunately), and the land where I absorb everyone else’s anxieties, foibles, and concerns as my own. Healthy? Hell, no – but I’m a lifer, conditioned from birth by the screaming and emotional abuse surrounding me, the loss of everyone who got past these self-imposed barriers, the fear of ‘being found out’ even though there’s really NOTHING to be ashamed of or hide – so much fear, so many non-secrets, so much hiding in my life. What’s the deal?

I can’t forget… the ‘dough boy’ nightmares of my childhood, the black hole dreams where a huge billowy-white blob would appear in the blank ‘page’ of my mind. In this dream the blob pushed and burrowed, expanded and consumed all of me until I jerked awake, crying for understanding from a parent who then punished me for waking her up.

I grew up afraid of the ‘dough boy,’ afraid of my mother’s wrath, hurtful criticisms, constant negativity, and physical abuse. I grew up afraid of exposing these ‘secrets’ to the few friends I was allowed to have. We weren’t allowed to invite friends to the house, to close the bathroom or bedroom doors, to date (heaven forbid), or to go out and DO. Car rides were a nightmare of screaming lectures about the horrors of sex and the shame I’d perpetuated on the family (how and why I never quite understood), pinches, slaps and the nauseating smell of my mother’s nail polish and remover (her favorite activity on long trips).

As an adult, I understand what this abuse did to a defenseless child, but it still haunts me. I’m close to one niece (who has gone through much the same experiences with both her mother – my older sister – and her grandmother), but avoid the rest of my family because of the continuing negativity and ‘one up’ abuse. Nothing is EVER good enough for these people – a perception I realize may be false, but it’s there and we (niece and myself) work daily to cope and overcome.

So I’m alone. Three engagements – the first and third to alcoholic abusers modeled after my mother and family, the second to a wonderful understanding man who died of a heart attack three months before our wedding. I love my job, but I don’t ‘mingle’ with most of my co-workers and still reveal only as much as I have to. I work long hours during the school year, never say ‘no,’ bow to the bullies – and resent it.

I hide behind food and the resulting extra weight. I hide behind books and busywork. I hide behind all that extra work I take on because I’m afraid to say ‘no’ and lose approval and so-called friendship.

I’m TIRED of this. I’m working to change these lifetime habits by examining myself and trying to be in the moment rather than ‘in the past’ hurts. It’s difficult, but I believe that the process of opening up and writing (among other things) will help me.

I’m TIRED of the ‘good girl’ role robbing me of my life. I’m tired of hiding, of putting others first because it’s the only way I can feel liked and appreciated. I want to live an authentic life. I want to lose the fear, to open myself up and to re-learn how to TRUST – if indeed I’ve ever understood that concept.

It’s about time, don’t you think? That’s why I’m here.

So I’m here.