The Father

My relationship with my father has never been much… When I was growing up he was never home… He used to take long trips away from home and even if he was home there wasn’t much communication between us… Sometimes it felt like he was just as scared of me as I was of him….

I can honestly say I never really knew him…

The Mother

She told me from the start that I was evil… “A child of the underworld”… She told me I was born to this earth for one purpose and one purpose only and it was her duty… orders from God… to stop us and to protect the rest of the world from me…

My musical abilities did play a role in her believes…

She never got tired of telling me the story of her first born… and that we were “the same”.

“He couldn’t handle it” she said “He left this earth and gave you the curse”

I do remember laying in bed at night and wondering if she was wrong… and wonder what would happen if she stopped what she was doing to me…

I remember that if I somehow tried to get out of being tortured by her she would just double the “punishment”.

I have memories of my mother showing me love… and in spite of everything I don’t think she truly hated me… I believe I can even understand her better now… knowing how deeply you can believe what you experience through your psychosis to be real or true… She truly believed that I was evil and needed to be ‘controlled’ with pain…

But yes I do have memories of her giving me hugs…

I remember sitting beside her with her arms around me… I have memories of her with tears in her eyes… saying she loved me… even saying she was sorry and that she wished ‘our lives’ were different…

Curse of evil

I wanted to write about this in March… at the time I was having trouble sleeping… having nightmares… as well as urges to SI…

I don’t know about the rest of you but this is a highly triggering subject for me… so just in case…and even though I normally don’t specifically mark my posts as triggering… Be careful…

I want to say something… but I don’t know how to put it… No, honestly I do know how to put it… somewhat at least… but I am afraid what you may think of me after I do… uhm yeah I really do worry about that… and I wish I didn’t but I do…

…I am terrified… and really I have been too afraid …or too embarrassed to write about this… or even to admit that I partially at least still believe my mother… and to let go…

It has partially to do with past… wait… Isn’t everything in my life about my past… every hour of the today? It’s seems like a forever ongoing cliché .doesn’t it? …or is it a cliché…is it something else? … Maybe…or that’s how it feels sometimes…

– ”It’s because your mind is poisoned by this thing from your past and the poison keeps spreading and you feel there is nothing you can do about it… except to wait for it to eat you alive…”

Never mind… that isn’t what I started this post for…  Again… this is something that started in my past… and this is probably the biggest and the strongest demon of them all… And I know that this is the cause of almost all my fears of recovery and probably all my relapses as well…

As a child… as far back as I remember… I was led to believe that I was different… That nothing about me was good… everything I did… everything I said was (supposedly) for a different reason and/or the opposite reason than I believed… My mother believed that I was “cursed”…that I had evil powers which were her task in life to prevent and/or to teach me to control… Don’t get me wrong… I know how utterly ridiculous this sounds… I know now that my mother was a very sick woman… but I didn’t know it then…

She was my mother… Of course I didn’t like this… of course I longed to be like my sisters… be “normal”… and that I wouldn’t have to go through any of that… but I believed her… and I believed her reasoning behind why she did what she did… and in a way a part of me still does… or at least is too afraid to let go of this thought… just in case if after all she was right…

Today… I often blame myself for everything that goes wrong… especially if I’ve had “a warning” before…

Warnings are dreams… my nightmares… I dream about things happening… events… It doesn’t happen exactly the same way as in my dreams but it happens… My mother took this as a sign… but after my baby sister was stillborn in 1975 and after me telling her about my nightmares… not to mention me telling her face to face in anger towards my sisters that if the baby would be a girl I’d hope she would die… (As bad as this sounds keep in mind that I was 9/10 years old at the time).

Although she still felt she needed to abuse me during the pregnancy… it didn’t seem as important to her like before… but after it was the same thing over again… and if anything it changed from bad to worse…

–”To prevent this from happening again… you must suffer more… you must be in more pain… it is the only way. ”

–”Siete diabolici”

–”If you have a dream like that again we must do something about it… to keep it from happening.”

–”Siete diabolici”

Again… don’t take me wrong… I do know how all of this sounds…

…but

I dreamt about my baby sister dying… she did

I dreamt about the fire…  it happened

I dreamt about the accident…  The death of my sister Maria…  and Chris…  and my baby Maria Carolyn…

I have had other dreams like that…  and nothing happened but all those times I did something (bad) to myself instead…

…because at the time…  every time I feel there is nothing else I can do about this…

…Even if I want to ignore it… how can I be sure? How can I be sure that nothing will happen… and if it does… how can I be sure it wasn’t my fault?

– sigh*

…This is really one of the things I shouldn’t talk about because there is no solution to it…

No meds or anything… this is my past… and I guess this is my present… as well as my future… I don’t want this to be my future anymore… that much I can tell you… but I don’t want self-blame to be there either… I don’t want to live in fear of having to “take the chance”… I know this is why my mother’s doing… believing I was cursed… making me believe… or something…

Yes… maybe she was just crazy for believing that… and for making me believe that… I get all positive and determined for a while and then I freak out and fall right back down again… because I am afraid to let go of this…

I’m too afraid to take a chance… and just say fuck it… because I keep wondering if she was right then it will be my fault if something happens…

But this is the reason why I am so terrified of getting better… terrified of feeling good… terrified of being happy… even for one week… couple of days… one day or even only a part of a day… but yes I do that anyway.. I do allow myself to feel good… smile and have fun occasionally… even without feeling bad or guilty about it…

…I’ve been trying to recover for so long… to “work through my shit”… but all along I’ve been terrified… terrified and mostly of this one thing…

From the journal (2004-05-03)

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