Trying an exercise to bring things I keep in the dark, to the light. I eventually want to bring bigger things to the light. Not on my blog of course, not for awhile. But.....attempting some small stuff. Hopefully it will work.
I'm afraid of even writing this, because I don't know if my dad reads this. I keep so much hidden to protect his feelings and it eats away at me inside. I have always kept so much hidden, because I want to protect those I love. I don't want them to hurt, so I take it on.
When my parents were divorced, I was punished, severely for choosing to live with my mother. People can say different or say what they want, but I was very, very harshly punished.
For any judge to lay that on a child. Insane. No child should be expected to have to pick between two parents that they love.
As I stated above, I was harshly punished for my decision. Things happened that have never left me. So much broken trust that left me feeling like I was a nobody.
My identity was taken away from me. Even now at almost 38, I am trying to figure out who I am without bending and twisting to make myself someone for others.
Every bit of that came from having to choose and then being punished for that choice. I don't make decisions well, they scare me. All because of what I chose so long ago.
When I say my identity was taken away. It was. My dad had a house (I was born in that house.) It was three bedrooms. My room was the front room, Johnny had the back room on the left and my parents had the room on the right.
I could tell you every single detail of that house. The way it smelled, the way my room looked. My pink and white checkered bed spread, my white rocking chair. UGLY, hideous carpet. My closet with my toys and dolls. White Home Interior thingies hung on the wall.
I remember always putting on my turquois blue, soft night gown and staring out the window at the older kids getting to stay up late.
My room =)
After my parents divorced my dad re married. I inherited a new step sister. Both sides were promising so much to me and my brother. If you live here you get to do this. If you live here you get to that. It was endless.
As I stated I chose my mom, my brother chose my dad. We went to live at my moms. It was a new house, it was a creepy house. My step dad didn't like us and it was very obvious. It felt weird.
It was time to go to my dads house and I was soooooooooo excited to be going back to the house I was born in. We had twin beds in my room and me and Debbie slept in there together.
I go to walk into my room and there was a lock on the door that you needed a key to get in. I asked my dad "Why can't I get into my room?" No answer. I ask again and Mary says "You didn't chose to live here, it's not your room anymore."
Debbie unlocks the door and comes out. She had brand new carpet, a SINGLE waterbed, all her toys were in there. I look over at the light switch and there is a plate cover that says "Debbies room."
That was done on purpose. My beds, my toys, my stuff all taken up to my grandmas attic. Johnny had a room, Debbie had a room. Mine was taken from me.
That switch plate cover saying "Debbies room" has never left my brain. I see it 27 years later as clearly as I saw it then.
I slept on the floor in the living room from that point on. When the summer came and we spent a month with my dad, floor or couch. Debbie was put in day care and when they would leave, she would lock her door with her key so I wouldn't get in. My clothes stayed in a laundry basket.
I started learning a lot of tough lessons on what one wrong choice does to you.
I felt invisible and my very first feelings of being unwanted set in.
I will never forget how the tears welled up in my eyes that day and I couldn't find the door quick enough to run out of the house and cry.
I knew she was inside laughing. Laughing at a small child who had to choose between two people she loved. Choosing wrong and then taking her world away from her.
I have my own room now =) I can paint it any color I want, I can hang a Dianna's room switch plate cover in it! I appreciate my room very much.
When things are taken from you, you tend to appreciate them when you get new!