I’ve been feeling really good lately. It’s taken me so much time to unravel everything that happened in my early years and how utterly awful my parents were to me as a child. It feels like it’s all finally come together and I feel better than I ever have. I think about parts of what I’ve been through often, but it doesn’t make me sad anymore. It makes me feel good, because I have finally done it. I have finally broken free.
When I look back from this healing place, it makes even less sense. They are delusional. What they remember and the stories they tell themselves are not correct. They have invented some of the narrative. They were overjoyed in telling everyone how horrible I really was (in their minds) and it seemed like they wanted to tell everyone. I don’t know why. Destroying me made them feel powerful.
I remembered recently that I used to be very outgoing as a child. I would play with any kid that I met and I didn’t mind talking to adults. I could be shy at times, but I was definitely an extrovert. My mother is an introvert and she was made fun of by her family for it. My dad likes to say he’s both. I was a threat for some reason. Or maybe I reminded my mother of everything she wasn’t and she hated me for it. It’s sickening to think that she would want to destroy me instead of wanting better for me. She loved when I was in pain or had to go through something awful she’d already been through. And my father centers his entire life around himself. Anything I did, he’s got to tell me how he did it better, earlier, or whatever. He has no empathy or desire to understand anyone else’s point of view. That a bad kind of parent.
I try to be careful with what I say to the kids. I mess up sometimes, especially with Boy #1. He tests me in ways that set me off quickly. The other three less so, although Boy #2 is starting to irritate me more than he did a little kid. I do not want to ever hurt them the way that I was hurt. I don’t want them to hate themselves. I want them to know that I value them as people and that the stupid shit they do/did as kids won’t haunt them forever. I don’t even remember their lives in how they impacted me, like my father does. I like to just sit back and watch them figure themselves out, without me telling them every awful negative characteristic they possess. Everyone has positive and negative things about their personality and focusing on those negative things is so damaging, especially when you’re young. It builds a narrative of self doubt that takes so much work to free yourself from.
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