Record your memories and feelings about your psychotraumatic experiences. Record your positive memories and experiences here as well—particularly, those that recall people who cared for you.
September 18, 2016 Entry
I think the hardest thing I had to deal with was no one caring about how I felt. When I was in middle school, my mom made me walk home more often than she had made my siblings, even though she was able to pick me up most days. By the time I got home, my younger brother would be screaming his head off for some reason.
He is only a few years younger than me, but no one started scolding him (at least, not around me) until he got to high school and it was too late. I understand that my mom was afraid to yell at him because of his Asperger's. No one told her how to deal with having a child with a mental disability. So, if my brother was yelling, she would turn and yell at me. Then he would follow suit and yell at me.
And every day after school, I would be yelled at. If I actually did something to deserve getting yelled at, like not cleaning my room (which I never did) or getting a bad grade, I would get yelled at more.
I'm sure there were some days where I wasn't yelled at, but this is all that I remember.
September 26, 2016 Entry
I guess I can recall people caring about me during my childhood, but it always seemed conditional. One example I can think of while I am ignoring this awful, awful debate in my background is when I was in middle school and traveled with my 15-year-old cousin, her mom, our aunt, and my sister to the Mall of America for the cousin's beauty pageant.
Before this, I was always this side of the family's favorite to talk to, at least when it came to my aunts. I dressed in wacky, cute outfits, I was obnoxious and over-confident, and this was all cute because I have always looked and sounded much younger than I am.
This pageant changed that though for many, many years. Now, these same aunts love to talk to me, but after this. . . .
Members of my dad's side are very Christian, which I respect, while still not sharing this with them. So Christian I think they were some of the ones who frowned on Harry Potter initially. They definitely frowned on what sixth-grade me showed my high school cousin that night in our hotel room, which was my Wiccan spellbook.
Since this was a true Wiccan spellbook, there was nothing bad or harmful in there. There was, however, a lot of information on the different Roman and Greek god and goddesses, which this 15-year-old cousin LOVED! She took my book and read through this over and over again all night.
Then her mother and our aunt with us found it. These two took me aside and gave me another chance by saying, "This is all interesting, but you know that none of this is true, right?"
(By the way, they did this without consulting my parents, which I only just now realized was wrong. What if Mom was Wiccan? My parents are Atheists, actually, but that's not the point.)
I knew what they wanted me to say, but instead I said, "I don't know that. No one can." This I still believe as true.
And my little brother became their favorite to reunite with during family events for many, many years.
No comments:
Post a Comment