The People Behind My Eyes

12:16 PM

In my last therapy appointment the therapist brought up my relationship with my father. I told her that I met him a few years back. She asked if I kept in contact. I said no. she asked if I wanted a relationship with him. I said no. She asked me if I told him what it was like growing up and I said no. I told her that it didn’t seem right to tell him how the mother was when he had no control what so ever over it. Why put that burden on him when he had no control over the situation at all. The mother would not let him see us. She refused to let him see us. Why would I, 30 years later, tell him about all the stuff that happened and leave him asking himself why he didn’t try harder to see his kids? The man has a completely new life, why on earth would I add grief to it?

When I walked up to his door I did so out of impulse. It was an impulsive act that I wish I could take back. Adding to that mistake would be even more wrong. I didn’t go back. I knew I wasn’t going back. I knew I just wanted to look at him. I wanted to know what my father looks like. I wish I hadn’t done it. I can’t take back the fact that I knocked on his door and introduced myself as his daughter. He was a very nice man. I didn’t like his little dog because as don’t like little dogs as dogs go but other than that I thought he was a very nice man. He’d just gotten off work. He looked like a hard worker. He looked warn but he didn’t have the eyes of an addict or the eyes of someone with a lot of secrets and a lot of hard past times. His eyes were kind. We talked for about 2 hours. It was a nice visit really. He invited me back but I never went back. I knew what I was there for and I knew that I wasn’t seeking a relationship. I regret going to his door I refuse to regret any more.

The therapist asked if the then therapist talked to me about how starting a relationship with him might yield something good. I told her I wasn’t willing to go through the flashbacks, the depression, the suicidal thoughts, the nightmares and the pulling up all those bad memories for something that “might” be good. It’s not worth it for me. Yes, I am this man’s flesh and blood but you know what? He is a stranger to me. Would anyone pull up all the bad for a complete stranger? Would anyone ever walk down the roads of hell to meet someone that MIGHT be good for them? No, not if they have any good sense.

It must sound cold of me to speak this way but I have to know what my limits are and this is one of them. I can not revisit the past on such a regular basis for something that MIGHT turn out to be positive. It’s the same with my brother. We are flesh and blood but for me to try and hold a relationship with him and answer his questions about life with that family is to throw myself into a crisis that I might not come out of. I don’t like the word “might”. I don’t like to take changes when it means my life. I’ve come too far to gamble it away. It must sound so cruel to say that I refuse to go back and try and hold a relationship with these two individuals but the truth is, the only thing we have in common is the blood that runs through our veins. For me, that is not enough to bring a total stranger into my life so that I can repeatedly revisit what could have been, what was and take the gamble that things will be good in the future. It is hard enough to make friends that I don’t share blood with, that I don’t share a history with, and that have no connection to the people that abused me. People need to understand that what I'd be gambling away is something I fought hard for. I finally came to understand that it is okay to not have contact with my mother. I finally am comfortable with the fact that I have separated her from myself. If there is for some horrible reason that I need to do that with my brother or my father who is it that has to live with that reasoning? It’s me. I'm the one that will have to deal with the aftermath or the good from it. I think it is reasonable to not be willing to gamble with what I’ve gained in my life. The fact that we share flesh and blood can’t be what takes precedents. Time, separation, history is between that flesh and blood and that makes a huge difference on what gambles I'm willing to take. A nice relationship with a stranger is not worth the pain I know I'm going to go through to get to that nice and positive relationship. The connection to the past is what keeps me from going forward with trying to build something with them. It is much different than meeting another stranger off the street, a stranger that doesn’t also call my mother Mama and who didn’t marry the woman that I called Mama. I'm just not willing to throw away what I’ve gained based on what could be. I’ve worked too hard for it and I won’t do it.

Say there are is a man outside and he’s with a working crew. They’re fixing pot holes, paving, laying down new roads and going about their daily work as usual. Would you choose one of them, approach them and risk your sanity by trying to explain your dissociative disorder and then bring them into your life and go over all the horrors that happened to you in hopes that one day you could have a good relationship with them? No, people don’t do that. They don’t chose a total stranger and then wager their mental health on them. But when it’s someone with whom you share blood the thought of withholding oneself seems wrong and selfish.

There comes a time when people have to know that a person can and will set a boundary that should not be challenged. I don’t care if this new therapist wants to explore why I don’t want to start a potentially good relationship with my father and my brother. For her, she’ll go home, she’ll be fascinated by the human mind, and she’ll document, research and hope for the best. I’ll be at home fighting to keep from killing myself because I can’t handle the increase in nightmares or the increase in flashbacks. It’s not a fair trade. Trying to start a potentially good relationship with them is like buying stock in a company that has no record of strength. A person only invests in something they feel is worth it, worth loosing what they invest. I'm not willing to wager the skills I’ve learned in therapy, the measure of peace of mind I’ve gained for someone that I know nothing about. It doesn’t even make sense. People cant get past the fact that we share flesh and blood. But I have to ask, if this was a complete stranger that I didn’t share blood with would the pressure to have a relationship with them be the same? No, it wouldn’t.

It is a double message to say to me, you have the right to separate yourself from your mother. You have the right to not have her in your life even with the fact that she gave birth to you. But when it comes to others with whom I share flesh and blood don’t the same principals apply?

a) Don’t fight the abuse and get hurt

b) Fight it and really get hurt.

You can’t make a good decision when all the choices are bad. Now I have choices and at least now some of the choices are good ones.

a) Risk the improvements for something that might be good.

b) Ignore the fact that your nightmares will increase, the flashbacks will increase, your ability to know what is past and present will decrease, your dissociation will increase.

c) Keep the improvements you’ve made in your life and don’t let go based on what MIGHT be good.

The fact that people don’t really understand what they’re asking me to do can not stand in the way of doing what I need to do. I know what my limitations and starting up a relationship with these two individuals is one of those things I can not do.

I understand that nothing is guaranteed. I'm not asking for a guarantee. I'm asking for something worth the gamble of what I could possibly lose. It’s not worth it for me. no matter how it’s worded by others they do not see what is in my head.

What happens when they find out that while they were gone the uncle shot me and I tend to limp on that leg when the weather is bad? What happens when I scream because a mouse ran across the room because I know that when I was little there were mice in my bed? I could hear them playing in the mattress. Oh, and no, I can’t take your gift because I'm not sure if you’re going to want sex in exchange for it. Oh, and please don’t ever hug me because I don’t know what you want from me. and please ignore the fact that I'm here by force my therapist feels that things MIGHT turn out for us. Fuck that! The answer is no. if that is blocking so be it. I prefer to keep the little bit of peace of mind that I have now. I prefer to keep a hold of it and not gamble it on something that MIGHT be a good thing. You know too, if it doesn’t work out well I'm the one who will have to deal with that too, not the therapist or anyone that has the nerve to push their agenda on me. as I’ve said before, therapists do not work with us, they watch us live from the side lines. It’s not me and her in the game, it’s me out there taking the punches. There is no team effort in this. I take the punches and dress the wounds. She/he helps me know how to move about the field so as not to get knocked down but they don’t actually take the punches. For this reason we are not a team.

I'm ranting right now I know. And this new therapist only asked me these questions but it’s not like the subject hasn’t come up before. It’s come up twice. There was only one therapist that was willing to let the subject go. I have to try and process this out before it becomes an issue with this therapist.

Sometimes I worry so much that it’s too late for me.