Freedom of speech applies to all except me...

My mother clearly doesn't understand Internet support. She still gets angry when she asks me WHY I wrote personal thoughts on the Internet, referring to the blog that the rest of the family "discovered." My answer to her is support. And being heard. To be open and honest about what happened to me and the consequences and struggles I now deal with as a result, and to connect with like-minded people. She said she doesn't want to read what I wrote and she doesn't want to know what was in my writings. And that's perfectly fine, and that place is no longer available. THIS is where I seek support now.

My response to her insinuated opinion that this was my fault to begin with is that people have choices--the family members chose to read my postings. And they felt their own reactions in response to their decision. My blog was to help me in recovery. Just as this blog is. I write honestly, with no holds bared, and whoever decides to read it is making a CHOICE. If they are offended or upset by what I say, then they must accept that as a consequence of their decision.

This is the concept of free speech that Americans hold dear. But the concept isn't supposed to apply to me for some reason.

I gave away the family secrets that no one wants to believe or accept. And that is unacceptable to them. So be it.

My therapist encourages me to blog. And continue, I will.

As for my biological father, the reason I give away his gifts to my daughter is that he stated, IN HIS OWN WORDS, that he wanted nothing to do with her and that she will miss out on having him in her life. I won't have my daughter used as a pawn and be played around with. Since he's disowned her, he must live up to his action and not play ANY role in her life.

One Girl as a Projection

A sad fact of this world is that oftentimes people see you how they WANT to see you, not as you really are. I suspect my family of origin was unconsciously looking for one member to place all their guilt, anger, and shame on--the scapegoat as it were. They wanted to see this member as a sick individual, the one who gives away the family secrets, the one who shuts the rest out, who doesn't listen, is unreasonable and one-sided in her thinking, and shuns the others for no apparent reason. So, here is the sensitive daughter, the frightened, timid member, and they projected all of this onto her and ensured it played out exactly as they had imagined. She has lived up to their "expectations." A fulfilled prophesy. Funny how that works, huh?

 

I became the ogre who shunned the others. The bad girl who hurt them all. The guilty one.

I have become this nightmare of a horrible person to them; I am a mix of all the negative traits these family members individually possessed, rolled into one unpalatable package.

A lifetime of being pushed and shoved and having others' thoughts, feelings, opinions stuffed down my throat, well, yes, I did FINALLY stand up for myself--after forty fucking years! How dare I stand up for myself in this family? Feel my own emotions, speak my own views, have my own opinions? How dare I defy the status quo? Change and not be the pushover I always have been? BETRAYAL! BITCH! SICK!

Only no one, except five people, view me this way. Everyone else knows a loving, sweet, sensitive, funny, yet hurting, aching human being. A thoroughly vulnerable, mistake-making, imperfect human.  If I were such an ogre, wouldn't I have been abandoned by friends and husband long ago? Would my mate have stayed with me despite everything for twenty years and counting? Would wonderful recovery siblings have continually encouraged me during my struggles? Would many of my relationships still have shifted and evolved yet remained strong and comforting? Would my work colleagues still have donated amazingly generous amounts of time when I ran out of sick days during my maternity leave? Would a few cousins still determinedly keep an eye on me to make sure I am okay? If I were so nasty, so horrid, such a sick individual, wouldn't be I completely alone by now?

Blogging is "sick"?

 My husband sweetly offered to take the baby and sent me out to the Starbucks cafe, bless his soul. I wanted to write a bit and he understood that.

DH was trying to protect me from the nastiness the family's discovery of my previous blog-and he did a good job. I asked him point blank what was said to him, though, (my husband was dealing with them all so I could focus on my newborn and the ppd), and apparently my brother-in-law said my blog was "sick." Sick? Do you think it was sick? Writing my feelings and impressions in my own web journal is sick? My sister said it was one-sided, without giving my father a chance to defend himself. Well, this is the man who denies any abuse whatsoever. And since when is anyone allowed to comment on and judge someone else's feelings and experiences? My feelings are my own, not to be tossed at anyone's feet to be judged and shamed. Now my mother is telling me that I shouldn't be writing personal things on the web and indirectly implying that this whole business was my fault. And that what happened when I was young was the responsibility of "all of us." Since when was a child responsible for her abuse? I watched my own child as I thought this; I looked in her innocent eyes and the absurdity of that remark made me want to cry.

We had a wonderful visit with my in laws this weekend; everyone was happy and excited about our child. She has wonderful grandparents and great aunts. However, the beauty of this visit brought home the fact that this isn't the case in my own family. I wanted peace with them so much. I tried so hard. And then found out they were spying and tracking me on the web and used what I wrote to "prove" what a sick and demented person I am. My father then said he feels sorry for my daughter because she won't know him. What an ego! How dare he bring my daughter into this. She is innocent. I love her. She is mine, and what she gets to experience is up to me and her, not this man.

I will  never again censor myself just so family secrets can be kept under wraps or because I am shamed into it. This is my medium and I thrive here. I KNOW I am not the only person to keep a personal blog, for crying out loud, and I hope to make friends with people like myself in this forum.

It does feel good to be sitting here, typing my feelings out again. I've missed blogging.