Out of the Dust: Part 1

I was working on a timeline to put my thoughts in order so I am not consistently jumping around.  I used the year 2000 as my starting point because that was when I had graduated high school.  I am horrible with dates so in working backwards from my graduation, I got to the school year from 1989 to 1990 and paused.  It looked funny and then I realized why.

My mother Kim told me that I had tested out of kindergarten and went into the first grade instead.  Kids are generally supposed to start kindergarten at five years old.  I went into first grade at six years, I had this thought at the back of my head that I needed to call my mother and check my facts.  It was literally like something popped in my head.  It was like a bubble had been encasing this memory and while I was looking at how old I was in the first grade, the bubble burst.  It was like finding a box in the attic you haven’t seen in twenty years.  You no longer remember what’s in it.  When you take the lid off of the box, the light bulb goes off and you suddenly remember.

I have been suppressing several memories, I can’t remember what happened but they just aren’t there.  It’s like the slate has been wiped and the space where the memory goes is just a black hole.

I rode a roller coaster once that was called ‘The Flashback.‘  The ride held true to the definition.  Flashback is defined as the recurrent and abnormally vivid recollection of a traumatic experience.  The bubble that burst last night surrounded such a traumatic experience.

I was five years old and it was during the time frame that my mother and I lived with her parents.  She was still courting with Jack A.

I was sitting at the table in the dining room but I was supposed to be upstairs.  I heard yelling in the kitchen.  It was my mother and her dad (my grandpa).  With the flashback, I heard the whole conversation like I was there in that moment again.

My Grandpa:

You’re never at home to take care of her.  She was supposed to start school and you couldn’t even do that.  You’re gone all of the time.  Your daughter doesn’t even want to hug you when you’re home.

Then my mother said to him:

I never wanted the kid and you made me have her, so whose fault is that?

Then the memory stops.  I have a similar memory.  I was sixteen and my mother and step-father were sitting at the dining table and my mother said:

I never should have had her.

I got on the bus for school the next morning and I cried when I told my best friend Patience what I had heard.  She let me cry on her shoulder.  I was repressing the memory of my mother and grandfather fighting.  I knew we (my mother and I) moved into the apartment with Jack A. shortly there after.

My mother told me that I was so smart that I tested out of kindergarten and was able to start first grade instead.  Which means I should have started first grade at five years old.  But I started first grade at six.  My mother lied to me and now I know she never wanted me.

In the “My Mother – Follow Up to My Journal and Step-Father” post, I wrote a letter to my mother and in her response she said:

As far as an abortion goes, that would have been a sin.  I guess you really want me to go to hell.

Somewhere deep down, I knew my grandfather made my mom keep me… and now I know why.  She never wanted me and now she resents me.  The more I share of my history, I am understanding it more and more.  The anger and the hurt build with the more I understand.  When this memory hit me last night, I cried and cried and I almost hyperventilated.  This was like I experienced it all over again as opposed to it just being a memory.  I wasn’t wanted.  There were times that I laid in bed, in the dark, hoping to not wake up the next morning because I felt unwanted.

I now know why I wasn’t important enough for my mother to rescue.  She never wanted me.  She resented me even being born and I was an inconvenience.  When I said I was moving out, she showed no reluctance in letting me go.  The day that I moved out, she went as far as getting rid of my pets.  She didn’t even give me an opportunity to try to take them with me.

Now that I have this memory, it’s not as easy to stuff it back into oblivion where it came from.  I am going to have to heal from this memory.


11 thoughts on “Out of the Dust: Part 1

Add yours

  1. It sounds to me like you weren’t reliving a memory as much as experiencing what truly happened for the first time. And that, I believe, is why it hit so hard, so deep and will take time to process and from which to recover!!

    God bless you and walk you through this, holding you tightly in His arms!!

    1. ~Kathy~
      I think you’re right. I think this was the first time I experienced it. It was really like I was there. My grandfather was such a huge POSITIVE influence in my life. Just thinking about him makes me cry. He died before my husband and I got married in 2006. He always had a hug for me. He would just sit down on the couch and put his arms around me… and say… I love you.
      A big part of who I am… is because of him. Even then he defended me. He made me promise I wouldn’t turn to drugs or alcohol. He made me promise that I would graduate college. I’m less than a year away. It’s taken me a long time but I plan on graduating and walking in June of 2013 with my bachelors degree.
      Hearing my mom say she didn’t want me… TWICE… was really hard. But hearing my grandpa’s voice… hurt more. I’m sorry for ranting. Your support really does help.
      HUGS ~

      1. Hi Phoenix,
        by coincidence am reading some parts of your blog.

        Just a simple advise (for what it’s worth):
        You exist, so the world wants you, and what’s more, do want and love yourself !
        Anything or anyone else wanting/loving you is additional luck (and áll the rest is just negative energy) .

        Best greetings from an old Dutch guy living in Croatia today.

  2. My mum once told my sister in the heat of an family arguement that she wished she had never had her.
    This statement was like a baseball bat between the eyes for us the siblings who were there, and also for my sister who looked like she had been shot.
    It was such a shock to hear this, and even though my mum, who realising what she had said apologised straight away, it stayed with my sister ( and the rest of us) for a long long time.

    For you, it does offer an expanation for Kims complete lack of giving a shit, and confirms to me, that she is so much better away from you and your family.

    The shock of the realisation must have been tough for you, but thank god for your grandfather who sounds like he was a truly nice person.
    That memory will take some getting over, but as I’ve said previously please don’t feel alone or unwanted.
    You have 2 lovely girls and a great husband, plus all of us on here, who all want you, want to know you, and in your familys case, want to be loved by you.

    Ruby said it so much more simpler than I could or have, but the sentiment is there just the same.
    love and many hugs

  3. Thank you for your share. I am missing a great deal of memories from my childhood. I know that they could probably be retrieved if I tried but I wonder many times if it is worth the trying. Do I want to look hard and find more that will hurt only to have more to recover from? Your bravery is astounding. Thanks for sharing. Your blog is helping me so much.

    1. For a long time, mine were lost to me. The only way that I viewed it was that my subconscious was protecting me from things that I wasn’t capable or ready to deal with yet. Now, I’m at a more stable place in life and can process the emotions behind the events.
      I wish you all of the best.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: