It’s not just a Name

Today I spoke to my sister, for the second time in my life. I am so angry about that. Not angry I spoke to her, I am angry that in thirty years  I have spoken to her twice. There is something very deeply disturbingly wrong about that.

So many things about this crazy weird situation confound me. For starters my mother who should be angry, isn’t. It was her idea to communicate with Keith. I have no interest in doing so, but I know that at some point I need to speak with him – I wish I could look him in the eyes, I also wish I could smack him. So perhaps it just isn’t time yet.

I am angry that I was not gifted with the privaledge of being raised with my siblings, I am angry that I do not share anything more than a nose with them, that I can see anyways.

It isn’t just a name – our names identify us, they give us something to be recognized by. They unite us and in some cases they divide us. None of my siblings share a name with me. We all have different names, different skin tones, even different bone structure.

We share blood and that matters, so much more than I can express, but I feel …detached. Sad and angry but I do not feel connected to them, not as much as I know they want me to. I know they understand, they have all been where I have been, in that I do not feel so alone.

That is the other thing; my whole life I grew up wondering who I was, why I was so different from my brother, I had so many questions about why I don’t fit in with my family. Why when I am around my mothers family my first inclination is to drink so that I have to force myself to keep my mouth shut.

My aunt, a woman I have never met, asked if I had kids and whether or not I was married. The answer is to both.

All this time I thought it was because of the number of times that I had been raped, I thought I had this never ending fear of men that just will not ever go away, and while that is part of it. I realize now there is more to it than that.

I realize looking back now I just never thought I was worthy of being loved. I don’t know if he understands what he has done, the damage he has caused. It isn’t just about the damn name, it is about this deep seeded fear that I held inside so long, that told me I was unworthy of being loved.

He walked away from all of us and never looked back. He didn’t care if we were hungry, sad or scared. He didn’t care if we were happy or healthy. He just did not care.

The others have gotten over their anger, their excited, happy and in some cases thrilled we can finally at some point be reunited. I am and I am not. I am happy they found me. Though as I write this I admit, part of me wonders why they want me in their lives. I know the answer of course. They want me in their lives because I am their sister.

At the same time  I have nothing to offer them, I have nothing of value or worth to give to these people. I am so damned broken. No matter how many times I write it or pretend to be okay I am shattered in side because of all I have seen and been through.

I know how strong I am – don’t get me wrong. I know that everything I have been through has prepared me for anything that life will bring my way, but still inside I am broken.

The others feel – I don’t, I avoid feeling at all cost. I bury it damn deep and ignore it. I lock it away in the secret box within myself and I smile so that I can inspire others, but as I sit here I realize damn near every time I tell someone it gets better I am telling a half truth.

Yes life gets better, but it doesn’t get easier. Life sucks, sometimes it is good and sometimes it is bad – it’s a roller coaster and thats it. You live, you experience you die. In between there are good times and there are bad times, but it isn’t really any different, it is all in how you deal with what life brings you that matters.

You can give in, quit and walk away, kill yourself and be done or you can keep fighting. There is a third less discussed option, you can ignore it.

I don’t “live” I do not “thrive” I ignore life. I see friends, I do events for SNBG, but I would not express myself as a happy person. I would say I am just a person.

I don’t know who I am…..mind you that is why I started this blog, to figure that out isn’t it?! Yet nearly a year later and I still have no real answers as to who I am as a person. How sad is that?

Not all of that is his fault, nor am I saying that I am a victim.

I am thirty years old, the long lost sibling of five other people who live in various parts of the world – I believe in living as if the world where what it should be to show it what it can be, yet I still do not know who I am.

Some days I think I want to be married, to have kids, other days I feel like I just want me and my animals on a ranch somewhere quiet where I can peacefully wait to die.

I do know I do not like this world. It is harsh and it is cruel. It is a work in progress that is for certain but I am not sure how much good that progress has been over the last ten thousand years.

I think humans have failed massively, not only whatever fucked up deity created us, but also each other.

I know that my father, for all intents and purposes has failed me, failed all of us.

Yesterday I told my mom I hope that I am nothing like him, I do not want to be the kind of person who can create six (or any number of ) children and walk away from them all without ever looking back.

I have been told he spends days after days asking the others to speak to me. They all respecting my privacy and being very protective of me, which in of itself is weird but very much appreciated.

I don’t think I have spent this much time thinking about him in my entire life – my emotions are bankrupt because of this man. My whole life I got myself into trouble looking for love in the wrong places trying to replace what he took when he walked away.

I find it strange I haven’t cried much, but I think that in truth some time long ago I just stopped crying because I don’t see the point.

It happens every now and then mind you, but not often.

I remind myself every now and than that “this too shall pass” but..then what?!

What am I supposed to do with these people? how am I supposed to react to all of this? I don’t know.

I hear the phrase “he’s only human” in this particular case, it doesn’t say much for human kind does it?!

I don’t know what is coming next – I am planning to go and visit them, and I fully intend to do that, at least the ones in Canada. I do not know about the others yet.

Just another peice of finding ohna hey?

If there is one thing I can tell you….that I can promise you, its becareful what you wish for, because I promise you – you have no idea what that may bring.

S

 

 

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