I thought I would start with one event in my life to write about and see if anything come of it. To give it context my aunty's husband sexually abused me for a fair amount of years, this is the first and only time I've seen her since I disclosed as she chose to stick by him:
I normally loathed Sundays finding them boring, but having been persuaded I joined my mother and grandmother at their local church, where the spirited hymns and preacher ignited my lagging enthusiasm. We returned as usual to my grandma's house, filled with such happy memories of her and my granddad; them trying to handle me and my boisterous boy cousins, my grandma's amazing cooking, and the time that spaghetti bolognese was dropped onto a perfect cream carpet that was never forgotten.
It was also the place my granddad chose to spend his last days so had a hint of nostalgia to it, even in his final days he was as honest and funny as ever. He told me what he thought of my cartilage piercing, and got me to order a television for the bedroom where he was bedridden, so that he could watch the cricket, and when I asked what I should say if grandma saw me with the Argos cataologue he tapped his nose sand said 'tell her to keep her nose out'. No surprises guessing what happened except for my grandma who suddenly had a television arrive at her door. 'I didn't order a TV she told the delivery people. 'No but I did.' came my grandad's voice from upstairs. a
So already the house was tinged with memory.
As my mum scuttled round making us all a brew I had a sudden sharp shock through the living room window. I had not seen my aunty since I disclosed about her husband sexually abusing me and she had chosen to stand by him rather than me, causing the whole family to disntergrate into who believed who and who was just staying out of it. It had been years since I had seen her face, which although older, was achingly familar.
My aunty hadn't realised that I would be at my grandmother's; she and mum normally planned visits so we could avoid each other but evidently this day the system hadn't worked. My mum came rushing in a furious ball of protective motherhood signing frantically to my aunty to go away. I watched the scene as if in slow motion then gradually I turned to my grandmother, clearly so upset by the divides in our previously close family which I destroyed when I told the truth, and I knew, for her sake if not others including my mum, what I had to do.
I approached my mum out of hearing of my grandma and said 'Look, this is ridiculous, we're still family whatever's happened so why doesn't Aunty R come in so grandma can at least think we're building bridges and getting along'. I said loud enough for my grandma to hear 'this is ridiculous we're still family'. I said this despite how much hurt and anger I held and still hold towards the woman who treated me like a daughter then stood by the man who did unspeakable things. I actually believe her taking his side and dismissing me hurt as much as the abuse, so to act 'okay' around her was so hard. I think it's one of the strongest things I've ever done.
My aunty approached, whether to hug me or punch me I wasn't sure and said 'is it okay if I hug you?' Despite my desire to mend wounds and not distress my grandma I had to say no, very politely, because it was just one step too far for me to cope with.
Mum brought through tea and my aunty and I despite our differences had the common goal of making grandma think we were okay, so we stayed with neutral topic like looking at a funny animal video on my phone then discussing it and so on.
Finally both she and I were ready to leave. Before she stood I felt I had to say Something, Anything to make her doubt the lies her partner was feeding her, but without causing an argument that would upset grandma. So I said 'I understand that you don't believe me about x, but I want you to know I would never lie about something so serious as that.' She nodded, took a deep breath and to her credit said 'It must have taken a lot of courage to say that to me'.
I nodded, and both of us rose from our chairs. I held out my arms to hug her, partly because I missed her (well who I thought she was before my disclosure) but mainly so grandma could see we had hugged. We embraced awkwardly and I am almost certain that will be the last time we talk, let alone make physical contact. I grieve so badly for the life and people I left behind when I opened my stupid mouth and told about the abuse. But at least my grandma has the memory of us hugging. And although I have mixed feelings about it....so do I.
Last edited by Buttons. : 15-09-2017 at 10:51 AM.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell. Oscar Wilde
Its hard to dance with the devil on your back. Sydney Carter
One can only imagine how difficult it was for you to go through this. But by the way it sounds, you handled the situation very well. I don't know you, but I commend your courage through this. Sharpen those literary teeth and bite hard, Buttons.
*big hugs to you*
A great piece of writing, as awlways. I really hope it helped a little for you to write it out, I know how important your writing has been to you in the past.
You're an amazing and brave bean, and I'm so proud of you for handling this difficult situation in the way you did. Really very much hope you'll feel able to write so more stuff when you feel able to =) xxx
The only time you will find real light is when you're searching in the dark..
Thanks all for beautiful comment. I'm not okay enough to do a running commentary as i've done before, but I am going to use this thread for various written work. Here's a poem (I do know i's probably **** it's been so long since wrote)
I stare into your eyes, to who I could have been,
Your smile is quite pretty...my mirror twin.
But I am not you and you are not I.
I hope one day you'll live a full life,
So this me can die.
Erase all the scars, rub away the tears,
Brush back your hair, say goodbye to your fears.
Take aim at the glass, smash your way through,
Be stronger than me, for I am not you.
If I try to break through the mirror glass,
I cut up and ignite and so turn to ash
For daring to challenge that old mirror glass.
But you, you are stronger, you will not die,
For I am not you and you are not I.
Be stronger, be better, punch through and you'll see
You'll fly like a phoenix, finally free of me.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell. Oscar Wilde
Its hard to dance with the devil on your back. Sydney Carter
This must have been difficult to write, but you write it so well and it shows how brave you are. Thank you for sharing this with us. I liked the memory of your grandad and the tv.
That was really good Katy, I really liked reading that - in the nicest possible way, I mean. It must have been really tough to write that out, it sounds kinda painful too but I'm glad you did. Youre a very good writer.
I love the poem too, keep at it you're doing awesome! :)
~*They're telling me it's Beautiful, I believe them but will I ever know, the World Behind My Wall? *~
~☆ ♫ Whatever Happens, Don't Let Go Of My Hand ♫ ☆~
Also all the other awesome people's responses, thankyou :D
Here's another poem written before the other and first poem I'd written in a loooong time definitely first one this year so may be bit rough round the edges:
Tighten, tauten then relax
'You should have told us'
'You should have asked'
Wounds and scars a braided sleeve
'How?' When you hate yourself
You strip flesh with ease
Dream lazily about being dead
'You should have noticed'
'You should have said
Count the pills extract the blades
Get out your pen
-You owe sorrys in spades
Finally you raise a figurative axe
'You should have told us'
'You should have asked'.
Last edited by Buttons. : 19-08-2017 at 08:37 AM.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell. Oscar Wilde
Its hard to dance with the devil on your back. Sydney Carter
This is God's honest truth probably pretty crap but thought I'd try and express some of my feelings around disablity in writing. Seriously this is most likely badly written but it's a topic I've never written about before much if at all so bear with :P
they see me coming, a brief stop and stare
should wear a sign 'disabled person approaching, beware'
they pity or ignore the things I can't do,
I don't need pity or ignorance, I'll make my way through
It may be slower or hard won, but some things I can do as they do
For example I can feel and reach out a heart felt helping hand
something some of them would struggle to understand
I get that a genuine smile is worth more than gold
Or casual conversation, if they can bear to be so bold
See it is just circumstantial that they are them and I me,
We are both human beings, by definition we 'be'.
So pack away any pity, send it away
Challenges may appear, but I'm here to stay.
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell. Oscar Wilde
Its hard to dance with the devil on your back. Sydney Carter
Bit of my life mayhave said it in anothere creative thread but it's coming to me now so here we go (its about the last time my abuser abused me):
It's a lovely living room, aesthetically perfect. We were on the computer and he started feeling things that aren't meant to be felt so I said 'why don't we watch a Harry Potter!' delaying tactics, I'd learned them at the knee of his perversion since I was 5 years old. Now, I was 13 and less able to accept the phrase 'this is how families show they love each other but we don't tell anybody'.
We sat on the sofa. The DVD started playing, one until a few years ago I couldn't bear to watch again. He started touching where he shouldn't touch, putting my hand where it shouldn't be and making me, to use a crued phrase 'jack him off'. I turned to the film, a distraction, then to the nearest bookkcase where his two younger god daughters were imortalised. And I realised with a shock that brought me back to the present...once I grew up....it would be them next.
(disclaimer I did tell after that and so far as I know the two younger giurls are safe)
'Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.'
['There is only one thing we say to death. Not today'.']
'We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell. Oscar Wilde
Its hard to dance with the devil on your back. Sydney Carter
