Run, Run, Run

See, I told you this would probably be piece meal as too much at once will push me into a tailspin.

I want to clarify something; it wasn’t just “her”.  The HE in our lives (if you can call it that) just walked out one day and if ‘she’ hadn’t forced his hand he probably would have disappeared for good.

So, not to bash but the secrets I kept involved him too.  I never told anyone they were divorced – until forced too.  In the late 60’s I just don’t think the big ‘D” word was spoken.  At least that was my perception.  He too had a drinking problem, but that part of our lives was good and bad.

Since this is about LIE’s and other bs we tell ourselves, I will try to keep it at that.  This isn’t all about them, this is, I suppose, a small way to let the darkness out and light in.

I struggle with the truth.  The truth about growing up.  Because for some reason I believe the “lie” has become the ‘truth’.  How scary is that. 

I hid the embarrassment of her behavior from all that I could.  The night the disgusting idiot that was to later become her husband for a few years, got drunk (ok, they both were) and in a drunken stupor, she kicked him out.  He lay on the hood of his car crying out, “please let me in”  PLEASE!  My poor brother was so young and probably attention starved for a true male figure in his life opened his bedroom window and let him in.   She was furious!  I was scared.  I was always scared.  I came home from school one day and walked in to her bleeding profusely from her nose.  Her eye was swelled up almost shut.  It was horrible.  I did not know what to do so I did what I did best; I shut down.  This is that big of a deal.  Oh come on,  she will be ok…………… won’t she?

She was drunk one afternoon and drove to my dad’s house like that.  When we got there D (oldest sibling) got her keys and wouldn’t let her drive home.  Oh my gosh!  She went ballistic.   A fight ensued, as it always would and I can’t remember the outcome.  I think D drove us home……. Think being the operative word.  Another memory lost and probably for good.

Fights in the middle of the night, seeing her stumble around, eyes glazed over………………… How pushed down this was but how scary it is to know it is there.

When I was 10 or 11 I was molested by the maintenance worker where we lived.  Here is how my “lies” manifested themselves.  When I walked back into the apartment all I could say was, “I hate that man”.  Not scream and holler what a bad thing had happened.  Upon recalling that I am certain my entire world was shut down and this was just one more thing to sweep under the rug.  Another adult had ripped more of my security away from me.  And I thought it was my fault. 

See, of recalling and writing as this comes up, perhaps I can begin to let those walls down.

I am going to a church thing this weekend.  A spiritual weekend.  And you know what I am afraid of?  “as it is all about me”, are they going to try to break my walls?  Cause that just isn’t going to happen. 

Lie # 5;  I have walls?