What I never told you

I often believe everything is my fault. It’s the voice in my head that says “It’s you!”.... That was until I realized that voice is you.

You told this so many times, that I’m convinced its me. No matter what I do, how hard I work to make things happen.

My self esteem is shattered by the constant criticism. Its hard to believe or to trust someone when they say or do something nice to me because the truth in my head says the opposite. Any form of conflict or argument triggers painful memories of not feeling enough and worthy or feeling powerless and trapped.

You always said to be careful, people are mean, people want to hurt other people. Just like you did. Just like they did to you.

Remember when you were getting drunk? And we were having those long serios conversations about how you were picking up women from downstairs? And raping them with your friends? And telling me in detail the stuff you were doing to them? I was 10 years old. In my head it got stuck that the same thing will happen to me.

I can hear mom saying “Don’t say anything, it will pass, suck it up and stop crying before you make things worse. Don’t provoke him.”

I learned to really hide my feelings deep, show that fake smile and pretend everything is ok. Nothing happened. I had to stay strong to make mom happy and protect her from you. If she sees im fine, she will be fine. Burring all my needs and worries so she can feel ok, portrait peace in order to bring her peace. In my mind it made sense. Hide who you really are so you don’t upset anyone.

The lack of peace, stability and safety growing up caused me high anxiety. I felt like I was constantly walking on eggshells. As a child, knowing that any period of calm would be shattered at any given moment caused me to mistrust that calm, that peace, always had to be prepared for anything bad coming my way. Thinking in my head of all the possible dangers and how to respond to them, how to protect myself.

I had to shield myself from that abuse that was always coming randomly. You wanna know how I did it, dad? I pretended its not there. It killed me more on the inside.

“No, mom, everything fine. Look at me. Stop crying. See? I’m fine. This doesn’t affect me at all, I’m a strong girl, mom. This doesn’t hurt me, cannot hurt me.”

Damn. You both had to protect me. But I have a lot of empathy for her, although she shouldn’t have been passive to the insults and physical abuse we were both enduring from you, we were both your victims. Yes, victims. I read this once and it got stuck in my head – a victim always goes back to its abuser. I understood this only after you died.

Remember when you were sending me to the neighbors so I don’t watch how you beat my mom? Eventually they were sending me back home to you. Or when I was teenager and I caught you with a girl my age? When I congratulated you for using a condom 😊 Remember that one, dad? You blamed it on me. I was constantly running away from home, but always came back. Or that one evening when I came out of the shower and you threw a bucket of cold water on me, it sent me into hypothermia? I called my friends and they wanted to come with the cops to take me away from you. But I didn’t leave you dad, I couldn’t cause problems to you. After that, I swore I would let you rot in a nursing home. Did I do that? No. When I found out you have brain cancer, I came back to you, to care of you and help my mom. Pregnant. Was looking the door with the key at night afraid you will come after me and hurt both me and the baby.

And even when you were close to dying, you told mom I was an unwanted child. Did I forgive you? Yes. Did I forget? No. But guess what, dad? No matter how many times you called me stupid or a loser, no matter how many times you hit me — I am still the same person. No matter how many times you shouted at me and told me I’m useless, I am still the same. I’m a human being like you, trying to live her life with ups and downs. I’m still doing my best, dad.

The walls I built around me kept me safe, but they imprisoned me at the same time.

I never wanted this. Felling protected and safe should’ve come naturally. I didn’t need to be strong, I needed to be safe.

I have purpose and I have worth and even though I forget that - sometimes multiple times a day, I am learning to accept me as I am. I do matter dad. I matter as much as every other human being on this planet, but I fight to feel that every day. 

I can still be OK in this world. I am healing and I’m going to be unstoppable.