I had a dream last night about being a bat girl for a baseball team. I hadn't thought about this for years, but when I was in the 6th grade, I wanted so badly to be on the baseball team. They let me practice with them, and I was damned good, but, since girls were not allowed on the teams back then, I fetched water and stuff for the boys during the real games. It just pissed me off. Not only was I better than most of the boys on the team, but it became a button that my stepmom could push. Every chance she got, she'd remind me that I couldn't play on the team. To me, that was reminding me that I was not really a boy. Of course, noone in my family really knew that I thought of myself as a boy. I couldn't trust anyone with that information, especially her. And, as memories tend to do, this one scrolled me into others, and I began to get angry at her again.
I haven't been angry about her in a few years, and I guess it's time to write about it, so that it doesn't snowball into hatred again.
I don't know how she figured those things out; how she knew that starving us, not letting us get enough sleep, dressing us in pathetic clothes, keeping us outside in the heat, and constantly filling our heads with bad things about our mother would fuck us up so badly. There was no internet, and as far as I could tell, the only books she read were the bible and books about brain injury (my "step" sister is brain injured). So how did she know that those tried and true techniques for brainwashing? Those are all abusive things, but there's one thing that stands out in my mind to this day.
We were NEVER allowed to stay up past bedtime (which was 6:30, weekend or not), but one night, she mysteriously allowed us to stay up and watch Sybil. That's not the best show for a 12, 9, and 8 year old to watch, but we were happy to be able to be up, and not trying to go to sleep while it was still daylight. So we watched it. If you've seen it, there is this part where Sybil's mom would do things to her genitals. That was disturbing to me for two reasons: 1. my mom would NEVER do those sorts of things to us. 2. my stepmom just might. So we went to bed terrified.
And the next day we were kept home from school. She had us strip and put each of us on the kitchen table and "examined" us. The examination consisted of a bunch of random poking, pinching, and general humiliation. She decided that we all had yeast infections, so she shoved some of those monostat tablets inside us, and made us lie on the table like that for what seemed like hours, holding our legs up and together. I guess I should mention that my step brother was also home, and was watching all this.
And here's where it gets really fucked up. The next day, she took us to the doctor and told him that she'd seen signs of abuse while bathing us. She had the doctor examine us, and he said yes, that indeed it looked like there had been sexual abuse. They blamed my mother for this. My mother, who we hadn't seen in over a month.
And, of course, we weren't allowed to tell our father about any of this. It was a secret.
What a fuckin crock of shit. You know, I believe in karma, and, though I don't see it as a thing in which someone is punished for what they do as much as I see it as a system of justice where people learn to be better people, I do hope something bad happens to her. That's not good, and I'm nowhere near the point of forgiving her, but that's where I am right now. And I guess I blame myself for part of it. Why didn't I just kick that bitch in the face? Why didn't I protect my sisters? What kept me frozen in fear of her?
I haven't been angry about her in a few years, and I guess it's time to write about it, so that it doesn't snowball into hatred again.
I don't know how she figured those things out; how she knew that starving us, not letting us get enough sleep, dressing us in pathetic clothes, keeping us outside in the heat, and constantly filling our heads with bad things about our mother would fuck us up so badly. There was no internet, and as far as I could tell, the only books she read were the bible and books about brain injury (my "step" sister is brain injured). So how did she know that those tried and true techniques for brainwashing? Those are all abusive things, but there's one thing that stands out in my mind to this day.
We were NEVER allowed to stay up past bedtime (which was 6:30, weekend or not), but one night, she mysteriously allowed us to stay up and watch Sybil. That's not the best show for a 12, 9, and 8 year old to watch, but we were happy to be able to be up, and not trying to go to sleep while it was still daylight. So we watched it. If you've seen it, there is this part where Sybil's mom would do things to her genitals. That was disturbing to me for two reasons: 1. my mom would NEVER do those sorts of things to us. 2. my stepmom just might. So we went to bed terrified.
And the next day we were kept home from school. She had us strip and put each of us on the kitchen table and "examined" us. The examination consisted of a bunch of random poking, pinching, and general humiliation. She decided that we all had yeast infections, so she shoved some of those monostat tablets inside us, and made us lie on the table like that for what seemed like hours, holding our legs up and together. I guess I should mention that my step brother was also home, and was watching all this.
And here's where it gets really fucked up. The next day, she took us to the doctor and told him that she'd seen signs of abuse while bathing us. She had the doctor examine us, and he said yes, that indeed it looked like there had been sexual abuse. They blamed my mother for this. My mother, who we hadn't seen in over a month.
And, of course, we weren't allowed to tell our father about any of this. It was a secret.
What a fuckin crock of shit. You know, I believe in karma, and, though I don't see it as a thing in which someone is punished for what they do as much as I see it as a system of justice where people learn to be better people, I do hope something bad happens to her. That's not good, and I'm nowhere near the point of forgiving her, but that's where I am right now. And I guess I blame myself for part of it. Why didn't I just kick that bitch in the face? Why didn't I protect my sisters? What kept me frozen in fear of her?
posted by ... at
12:05 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home