It is not lost on me that it is a week before Christmas and many of us are preparing to be jumped by holiday giddiness from all directions. It is such an amazing sight to see my all my friends enjoying their families. However, Christmas was never a happy time for me. I do not think it ever will be. I come from some serious dysfunction. My mother died when I was 11 months old. I grew up in a house where both of my parents struggled with mental illness. My dad struggled with alcoholism and depression, and my step-mother with bipolar disorder. Where I am from, people do not believe in disorders or mental illness, and everything can be cured by prayer.
To make sure that chaotic hysteria was never set off in my house, I at a very young age, learned to walk on eggshells. I vividly remember nearly every Christmas.
Children are curious by nature, and I was not an exception. One Christmas morning before the time was set to open presents, I found one of mine and started shaking it with excitement. My father, beer in hand, slapped me in the back of the head and asked what was wrong with me. My step mother then took me to our old wood stove and threw the gift inside and made me watch it burn. Two weeks later she beat me until my entire body was black and blue, for vomiting on pajamas; a present I had gotten that Christmas. My father did nothing.
As children we rarely see or understand what grown-ups are going through. We do not see the big picture and at the time my parents’ illnesses were invisible. I did not understand all their irrational behavior. I thought my actions were the reason they acted the way they did. I thought my routines were the reasons why I was beat. I thought dad drank because of my mom’s death and because I was far too feminine for his liking. I remember wondering if my step mother had the ability to read my thoughts, in some sick way justifying her mistreatment of me.
Now, I fight day in and day out with my own Borderline Personality Disorder.
It is so hard trying to break the shackles and handcuffs that hold me to all of that dysfunction and hurt. I find myself getting upset at things that are so trivial and I pray I am not seen today as I saw my parents back then.
My first piece with Girl Precarious is to show who I am and to reach out to those of you who can not find happiness in some family situations. We have choices when our friends and families are acting in a dysfunctional way. The choices we make can either extinguish it, or perpetuate it.
For me, manipulation was always the skill being used to force me into some sort of situation that I did not want to be in. My own parents would manipulate me into things that I really did not want to do, all while not allowing me to do the things I really wanted to.
Once I got older and bolder I would stand up to them.
I would make my presence and ideals known. That tactic honestly did not help at all. The smartest thing I ever did, was just stay quiet. I ignored all of the chaos and dysfunction. I learned a very important lesson which is: People stop using strategies that just do not work anymore. Even inaction can be louder than words and sometimes even bullhorns are quieter than total disregard. I have never ever forgiven my parents for stealing my childhood. I assure you it was not only Christmas that was taken from me. With that being said if you need family, a friend, someone to talk to or some holiday love, please feel free reach out to me, and all of us at Girl Precarious.
I just want you to know that I love you. Not in the romantic, let’s have babies kind of way. But, full heartedly with all that I am, from every facet of my personality to the blood running through my veins. I love you.
You have read my Christmas story, you know what I have gone through. What you do not know (yet) is how much of a bad person I have been in my adult life. I have taken way more than I like to give. I have stolen and lied. I have cheated on nearly all of my partners, and felt absolutely no remorse. I use to think the most awful thoughts, and wish I had the guts to carry them out to fruition.
But I have to tell you that, that is exactly why I love you.
It does not matter who you were before, who you will be tomorrow, or where you stand in your life right now. I love you. I will always have your back, and I will never give up on you. If you need a refresh button, you can find one in me.
One thing I have always been good at, and probably too good at, is discretion. If you need someone to confide in, a shoulder to lean on, a bosom to cry into, or someone to tell you how much you are messing up and that you can do better, then here I am. What we tend to forget, because it is so easy to do so is that we are powerful beings. We just use our powers in different ways. I am here to remind you of your power. I am here to remind you that you and your uniqueness should always be celebrated. So today, Christmas Day, Valentines Day or even a random Tuesday in July… if you are feeling consumed by loneliness or guilt, overwhelmed by your disability or illness, panicked by grief or stress. Remember I love you. I am your mom now.