FushiaFlower

I recently have been doing a lot of yoga to add to my journey of healing and I have been experiencing emotions/thoughts come up for me that have been buried for quite some time. My mother and step father are still alive and my mother still drinks and has appeared to have lost much of her logic in her many years of drinking. I have come to a great place of acceptance and understanding in my journey through my pain...but this issue that has been bubbling up...I need to get it off my chest.

I have done acoa meetings...I have done lots of mental therapy...and I have even done lots of healing therapy as well. It has made a huge difference...but sometimes when things "brew" up from deep inside...I know I just need to do deal with them...and move on.

So the yoga...it is a detox series that is really kicking my ars most definitely physically. However the memories have been sometimes hard and old (I am 34). My mother and step father are moving again and they are wanting my help. I do not mind this time...I have done many balancing acts within their sickness on how it affects me and my co-dependency issues...but out of the blue I am becoming angry again. And it has to do with one particular memory that I am seeing for the first time the dysfunction in it and feeling the pain for that little girl that had to go through it...

I didn't mention that I substitute teach at many districts (I am a licensed school counselor and substitute) and I have struggled in actual therapy outside of work seeing children at young ages and often realizing that was me at one point in my life. The pain that comes from someone actually hurting them...even the quarky ones or ones that are going through struggles...I couldn't even imagine...without me realizing it...my brain argues that there must have been something wrong with me to deserve it...even though my heart ABSOLUTELY knows that is not true...but it doesnt stop the pain that my subconscious must think I am ready for...

So I was in fourth grade around my birthday time. We lived behind a tavern that my mother owned. "We" consisted of myself, my younger sister, mother, and step-father. My dad wasn't around much...my mother left him two Octobers before this time...she moved me and my sister then behind the bar that she owned and worked. My dad wanted to see us girls and do something for my 10th birthday. We not only did not see him much because he wasn't around much...but my mother was angry and hurt...so us girls would be used as a weapon many times. Either way...my sister and I were really excited to see him. I had been wanting to get my ears pierced for quite some time and my mom had pushed it off many times to "I will think about it". During my birthday visit with my father, he asked me what I wanted...I told him to get my ears pierced. I was so excited that he said we could do it. So we did. And I was so happy...and actually felt pretty for once...and loved. It was a short escape for me from my situation at home where I would cook, clean, grocery shop, do the laundry, clean the bar, make the beds, take care of my sister, do homework...and if any of that was not done right or if there was one dirty dish...a slap across the face was a normal response that I endured on a daily basis from both mother and step-father...and I was told over and over and over again that it was teaching me to be a responsible adult someday. This does not include the late night physical fights after bar time between my mother and step-father that often times I would end breaking up...or during unfortunate times...be the target.

When my father brought us back home, my mother was livid and started screaming at him. He was sitting in a chair at the table. My step-father was leaning against the sink in the small kitchen with his very large arms crossed and a large US Army tattoo flexing on his bicep. My mother sent me and my sister outside...but before we could get outside...she punched my father in the face and knocked him right off his chair. He sat back on his chair and started laughing. My sister and I went outside. We could hear her screaming outside. When my dad left...it was awkward...and I was wanting to leave with him...but he didnt want that...nor to stay to protect me and my sister. We went inside...and I then received an hour lecture on how I should have known better to tell my dad that I shouldn't get my ears pierced. I then had to stand in the kitchen while they both sat at the table...I was not allowed to lean against the sink or counter. I can remember feeling sick...like I was going to fall over...and so scared. I didn't know what was coming physically...or emotionally (if it involved my sister being punished). They decided my punishment would be to wash out all the cupboards in the kitchen inside and out...it may not sound so bad...but there were 7/8 on top...and the six on the bottom we hadn't been using because we had such a mouse problem at the time. I was to clean out the mouse infested ones too that hadn't been touched all winter (I also knew there were at least two dead ones in a jar under one cupboard). They said they were letting me off easy...that I should know better than to play along with my father's mind games...and I kind of agreed that I was getting off easy. I even remember thanking them once I knew I was not going to get hit/slapped/etc as well. I knew that wasn't it for punishment though...the times to be scared of were when they would be drunk after bar time and wake me up to "punish" me again. that always included physical pain. Sometimes my little sister too. And I never knew when it would happen. I know it happened over the ear piercing at least once. I do not remember the actual incident (I think I have blocked much of these incidents out)...but I remember being relieved when it did happen...because I never knew when to expect to get woken up...I just knew I would...and the first time over an incident would be the worst. Right now I want to scream at them...tell them to **** off and give them a bill for all the therapy I have had to pay for because of their dysfunction I had to live with as a child. But now that I got that all off my chest...I am coming back to remember that the above incident gives me strength...that I do not have to go back to that house EVER again...that I am now in control of myself..but I do need to comfort that little girl inside of me that is hurting. I have to help her heal...so I can be strong to help other kids heal from situations that are out of their control.

Ahhh....I think I am going to take a moment to go and cry a bit now. To whoever took the time to read this...thank you for letting me share a part of my story with you. Somehow this forum helps me to remember that I am not alone...and that I can work through the pain when it comes up. D**m yoga .

--Fushia Flower

dbh

Dear Fushia Flower,

Thank you for sharing your story.

The little girl in me can relate and I have tears in my eyes.

Hugs,

db