Today I specially acknowledge the kids of parents who engaged in physical abuse. You never really do grow from that. When other kids have memories of being scolded for running without their shoes on, you have little flashbacks of fists, belts, kicks, insults and rage. These memories come randomly when you are giggling with your friends over jokes about this or that,when you are blushing over compliments given to you and even when having sex-anytime! These morsels of memories come with an after-taste of distrust, over-trust &misplaced compassion and love from the bitter drink named emotional abuse.
Your brain tends to shatter, reality becomes skew and a sense of compassion to you dabbles between hiding from everyone or overly loving everyone from afar and close. That needle on the scale is never really balanced. And when it seems to dabble on a certain number it still never really settles and re-calibrating means therapy and therapy means picking scabs of the past,applying balm and bandaging wounds as a sign of healing-always painful but it works until the next disease.
You hang on to anything as a shield. You can even hide in a tinned shack with a toxic lover who also has their own scars and wild perspective to life but just as long as he looks like or has the physical capability to shield you should the need arise, your version of love means being physically ready to protect yourself. You watch for cues in tone, habits and touches to know when you should be prepared to be disregarded for another. And even when you know, you stand still, disappointed at your lack of movement, longing for more affection and hateful that instead of being physically challenged and being ready for it, you are now emotionally contending and there is little else you can do-its like trying to run under water-physically tiring,mentally shattering and emotionally exhausting.
Your version of educational fulfilment means a fear of completion and success because again you didn’t fight for this and it somehow feels like even the best you have so far (even when its better than most else’s) is too meagre to be presented to the world. Being at work dabbles between being too nice and liberal to being cagey. You have the opportunity to seek mentorship and friendship but if at the first sign of ‘hello’ you see cues for unwillingness, distrust,disinterest – you bail when it could have just been that person being too busy at the moment or having a hard time in their life or with their health at that moment. Or it truly could’ve been that they have no interest in helping you and that they do want to see you fail but because you don’t have the emotional capacity to handle rejection without tearing up and begging like you are being beaten and then fixing things like you are bandaging scars, you let go of everything and wait anxiously.
These are wounds religion can’t seem to fix because it preaches submission,being humble and kneeling-the same positions your saw your battered parent being in and your other battering parent playing God and striking at every turn, sometimes fixing things a little before striking again.
On most days when things are lovely; you do so well. On horrible days, you try to at least stand when your feet even when they are wobbly. On all days; you are beautiful, you are the sunshine and the moon and we were and are still here-all of us. I acknowledge you, I am you and we kids are alright.