Steely I just read your posts again. I am so sorry to hear how your parents reacted, that must've hurt so much. I can't imagine. It's very big-hearted and selfless of you to still visit your mum and to take care of her even though she seemingly didn't always take the best care of you. It's impressive.
Also: thank you for sharing with us. I think you're right, it's the truth and we shouldn't be afraid to tell the truth. It's not our fault, we are not the ones who did something wrong so we shouldn't be scared to talk about it. Saying that I still struggle with it myself. Just after it happened I only told my doctor cause I needed sleeping pills and a sick note for school. The doctor suggested I should see a therapist but by then I just wasn't ready for it. That was the first time when I realised that I drank to self medicate. Also I always thought that my drinking was borderline alcoholic by then but cause I managed to get back to a more controlled way of drinking I thought I was fine, or even immune to becoming an addict. I think I was mostly drunk for the following year or so. I drank before school to forget about what happened and to fight off the fear, to be confident enough to leave the house. I was raped right across the street from my dads house (at that time my home) in the car of someone I thought was my friend. So coming home or leaving was a nightmare every single time. I drank in school, and after school I sat on the city train for hours accompanied by a bottle of vodka. That was pretty much what my last year of school consisted of. I made it anyway and got my high school diploma with good enough grades to be able to get into the university of my choice. But of course my teachers and parents and everyone was disappointed in me, they didn't understand why I wasn't attending all my courses and why I wasn't motivated anymore. I've heard them saying so often, how sad it is to see me throwing away my potential and that they had such high hopes in me.
Before I moved away for university I told my dad and he was shocked. He was incredibly upset and wanted to know who the guy was to get him punished (not the legal way). I refused to tell him cause I generally don't believe in revenge and I didn't want my dad to get into trouble. He also said that that was his biggest fear when I was born and the doctors told him he's got a baby girl. I immediately felt like I did something wrong, disappointed him by being a girl and not a boy. Always thinking everything's my fault.
I never told my mum. I don't know if she could handle it. She's in denial about so many things and so self centred that I think I'd be either very upset and disappointed by her reaction or worried in case she couldn't handle it. So I try to protect her from the truth.
When I told my by then (idiotic and cheating) boyfriend, his only reaction was "well that kind of stuff happens I guess and maybe you shouldn't have been wearing a dress" ouch!
Years later at university I confided in a friend and her reaction was even worse. I thought she'd understand better cause she's a girl and at first she was very empathetic but then she ended our friendship, saying she couldn't handle what had happened to me and seeing me would now always remind her of that and she has no place for negative spirits in her life.
So you people can't imagine how big of a relief it is to have this place to talk about this.
Cutting into that topic stirred up a ton of emotions in me so I did some good journaling today. I mostly wrote about the relationship to my parents and my brother.
Also lately I noticed I have a really horrible feeling that just won't go away. Sometimes it's better sometimes it's worse but it's always there. I feel extremely lonely, sad, helpless, empty, without hope and like there's this giant hole in my chest. It's like a monster eating me alive, taking one big bite after the other, becoming stronger and bigger with every bite while making me weaker and smaller. It takes all my energy.
At first I thought I've never felt that way before but now I'm starting to recognise it. It took me a while cause I think that monster / feeling has been hiding behind a bottle for the past 15 years or so.
I felt that way when my parents were getting divorced and were both so tangled up in their own personal war that they forgot about me. My beloved cat died at that time too, my mum wasn't doing well and I was subject to all of her moods, her anger, hate, frustration and depression. My dad was stressed and drank in the evenings when I was at his place every weekend. I copied him. After he went to bed I sneaked into the kitchen and tasted my way through the liquor shelf. I didn't like the taste but I instantly loved the effects alcohol had on me. It gave me such a wonderful feeling. Like the world would lighten up a bit, seem much warmer for the moment and give me a big warm and welcoming hug. I started to look forward to the half hour to an hour I would spend getting drunk every Friday and Saturday night, it was the highlight of my week. The liquor bottles became my best friends and just seeing them made me happy. They had this promising glow around them, they promised good times and a rewarding feeling. And I believed them.
I start to believe my therapist when she suggested the reason I started drinking was my parents. I refused to accept that before cause I felt like I needed to protect my parents and like it must've been my fault not theirs.
But I think today I had a mini break through when I realised that i was just an innocent child pushed into the turmoil of my parents divorce and that they maybe didn't take the best care of me these years. I even allowed myself of feel anger towards my parents which is completely new to me.
Guess I also went into zombie mode and just wrote way too much. I'll just press send before I change my mind.