Facing the Giant

It took Dr. L a long time to get me to start opening up but my idea of opening up was to write it out in an email and send it to her. Actually verbalizing the thoughts was paralyzing me. She was okay with emails sent to her and then she would read them and discuss them at our next meeting. She asked me if I had any pictures of my mother and I told her yes. She asked me to bring them in, could we go through them together. I told her I didn't know if I could or not.

One weekend when the kids were gone to Eric's I pulled out the bin that holds all the old photos. I went through each and every picture. There were hundreds upon hundreds! It was good going through them recalling the memories but I noticed something. I could not remember things of my childhood with my mother. I could remember events that the photos captured but random things without photos I couldn't remember. There wasn't anything she and I would do together, there wasn't anything she said that I could recall. There was 1 photo of me and my sister with both of our parents. The ONLY one I have. I do not remember that time at all. I look at the picture and I see strangers. I have no feeling other than I do not know them, I feel as if I just didn't belong in that picture. I gathered them up and put them in a ziplock bag. I took them to church and I showed Roni the one of the 4 of us. I told her I couldn't remember this and I just want to remember something, anything good from my childhood with my mother. Everything is so clouded with the bad things I just needed to remember something good. It made me incredibly sad that I couldn't. She asked if I would give the pictures to Dr. L. I told her I didn't know if I was ready to or not. I couldn't understand what good it would do to go through them with her. What was she trying to accomplish? Roni didn't know but said to ask her! Hmm novel idea!

I took them with me the next week and she asked if I had them. I told her yes. Could I share them? No, not yet. She didn't push it. A little later she asked again. I handed her the bag. She just put them in her lap and asked how I felt about giving them to her. She could see the nervousness, the fear, the anxiety because I truly was a mess. I wanted so badly to face this giant, I wanted to crush it and move past it but the little girl in me kept coming out in that office. I just knew at any moment my mother would walk through that door and I would be in so much trouble. I couldn't look at my past through the eyes of an adult. I only saw it as the child I was, I couldn't separate from it.

We eventually did open the bag and go through the pictures one by one. She asked what I felt. I told her some of them had no feeling because it was as if I were looking at strangers, others especially ones with just my mother in them made me incredibly angry.

She asked if I had a picture of just my mom could I have it blown up and made bigger to bring in to the office. I told her no. I didn't want a big picture of her, why? She wanted me to read a letter to her picture so I could finally say what I wanted to say to her in a completely safe environment. I had to think about it, it sounded so dumb to me. I hate role play and to me that's what this was. I told Roni about it and she told me to think about it. I did but it made me incredibly anxious and so finally I told her no, I couldn't do it. Telling a piece of paper what I was thinking wasn't going to do anything for me. I wanted her to hear me! I wanted her to read the words! I wanted her to feel the pain I had felt all these years! I wanted her to cry for once! I wanted her to say she was sorry, even though I would have never believed her if she did! She still had no idea what she had done to me!

Dr. L asked me had I written her any letters? I said yes, she asked to see them. I had one that was ~ 6 pages hand written. Again, I went to Roni first and she told me I should read it to Dr. L. Oh man! The anxiety ramped up big time. Read it out loud? Are you serious? She was. I hadn't even let Roni read the letter yet, how could I read it to this doctor I barely knew? I gave it to Roni and I told her I just want to mail it to my mom and she made me promise I wouldn't mail it! Not this one. Not one full of emotions like the one I had written. It would not do anything good. It wasn't about what I felt inside, it was all about telling her what she did to me to hurt me so much.

I did take the letter to Dr. L and she asked me to read it. I couldn't do it. She asked if she could read it to me and I said yes. As she read it to me I sat across from her and I could feel myself go back to my childhood and the tears came, the anger came, the wall was finally breaking!

I was so mad at myself. I hate crying in front of people. I hate not being in control of my emotions. I was exhausted beyond belief.

Dr. L asked what was going through my mind and I just kept saying, how does a mother walk away from her child? what did I do that was so wrong? was I that bad of a child that she couldn't deal with me? why didn't she love me?

I retreated to my cave and I was done for the day.

The Questionnaire

I was a nervous wreck but Dr. L was kind, patient, quiet, calm and safe. Although I couldn't really see these thing through my fear that surrounded me. She asked what was the main problem and I told her that my parents disowned me due to marrying a black man. My mother and I had a strained relationship from about the age of 13 or 14. I have a few vague memories about my mother before that age. Then she went through the information forms that I finally did hand over to her. That was very scary for me to do. She asked why, and it was because growing up I was forbidden to give my opinion and I certainly could not talk about problems at home with anyone. She told me that her office was safe, my mother was not there and there was no way for her to find out what I say in there! This still did not calm me down. I was not breathing-I was holding my breath without really knowing that's what I was doing.

As she was asking me to explain answers from the questionnaire I was retreating to my cave. I would close my eyes and rub my head. She would pull me back to her to talk it out.
She went through these topics:
my parents divorce and me not remembering my dad ever living with us before the divorce
my mom remarrying 4 times
her 4th husbands alcohol problem
his attempt at raping me when he was drunk out of his mind one night
me losing all trust in my mom once I told her and her response to me
my complete disconnect from her even though I lived with her
my on again off again relationship with her until I was 31 when it severed for good
my wild night life I had in my 20's to make up for all the relationship void I had inside of me.
then living life without her for 10+ years when I needed a mother the most to help me and guide me through the turmoil I was living

I had not dealt with any of this in a healthy way up to this point. I hid from it, I ignored it didn't exist but at times it would come slamming back in my mind and paralyze me! Holidays were the worst. I couldn't wait to get from Thanksgiving to January 1st! I would get so angry listening to everyone talk about their families and then gripe about having to go somewhere to be with family members. I just wanted to scream at them, at least you have a family to go to!

This is all for now, my leg is bouncing so fast right now. Most likely the anxiety of remembering all this! But I need to get it out of me!

Starting to clean out the wounds......

We are getting to the meat of the matter now. The part of the story that just hurts. Its the part that I spent so many years trying to forget and ignore and then spent every week in counseling for 8 solid months to overcome!

My Dad decided to not be in my life, his grand-daughter's life. OK, I could accept that. But now we are getting into the part that deals with my mom. This is the hard part. This is where Roni and I decided there were 2 parts to my issue--my past relationship with my mom and the disownment from my mom. They are two different issues but are tied tightly together. I guess the best place to start is why Roni wanted me to see a psychologist and then start with the first appointments with the doctor.

Once Eric left in December 2009 and then I settled down some in my mind, I became overwhelmed with thoughts about my mom. I mean nonstop thinking about her, my past, my fears, my anger etc. And then the questions started pouring out to Roni--how could she walk away from her child? why hasn't she ever tried to contact me? why didn't she love me? what did I do to her to make her walk away from me so easily? NONSTOP! And I thought---WHERE in the world did all this come from???? I had put this stuff away years ago and now its resurfacing! I can't deal with my mom!

I had to because it obviously affected me negatively!

Roni gave me the name and number of Dr. L and told me to call. I finally did call her and got a voicemail!!! Are you serious!? I told her my name and how I received her number and would like to set up a time to talk to her. After I got there that first day and started working on the packet in her waiting room, I kept thinking I have lost it completely! I am sitting in an office waiting to talk to a psychologist about things that happened so many years ago and this packet of information she wanted touched on things from A to Z! I was terrified to answer them but I kept hearing Roni in my head saying to me to be open and let her help! She can't help if I don't answer her honestly.........

Honestly--wow, but her questions were very specific, very detailed, covering a lot of topics. All of which I seemed to have issues with. She finally called me into her office on March 31, 2010. I thought I would die right then and there!

Disownment

It  has been weeks since I've written last. We are getting to a place that was so very hard to deal with because it meant I had to accept it and move on. There had to be action taken. I had to trust. I had to trust that Dr. L really was trying to help me and not use against me any information I might tell her. I had to trust myself that I would really put forth the effort to finally face these issues. I had to trust God to be with me at all times no matter what.

When I was pregnant with Arianna in 1998/99 I came to Cincinnati at Thanksgiving. I was going to see my Dad and go to my Aunt Phyllis' house for Thanksgiving day. When I went to my Dad's, I took a photo album of me and my ex husband. Up to this point I had not told him that he was black. We'd only been together ~6 months at that time. My Dad looked at the photo album at the end of our visit and he looked at me and asked 'is he black?' I said yes, he is black.  My Dad closed the album and gave it back to me. He said nothing. I was getting ready to leave so I went ahead and got my things. Dad walked me to the car and I asked him was he still planning on going to Phyllis' for dinner the next day? He replied,'no, I don't think I will be going'. So I got in the car and I drove down the driveway. That was the last time I have seen my father. November 1998.

I knew he would have a problem with it, with the biracial relationship. I was hoping that he would come around so he could be near his grandchild. This never happened. He has never seen his grandchildren and most likely has not seen a picture either.

I went on to my Aunt's house to see her and spend time with my cousins. They did not seem to care who the father of my child was, that he was a black man. My Aunt and Uncle asked me if he was good to me, did he take care of me? That's all they cared about, not the color of his skin, but his character. I went back to Texas and told Eric what had happened and he said it was my choice what to do with this information, but really did I have a choice? No. I struggled with what I would tell my children when they were older when they ask where my father is and why isn't there grandfather a part of their lives.

For some reason I was able to accept my father's choice pretty easily. Maybe because I had already experienced his wrath in college when I dated a black man. Dad and I went head to head and I told him I was not dating someone to make him happy but for my own happiness. I was on my own at this time and told him he did not pay my bills and could not tell me who I could and could not date. He didn't like this and I guess I wouldn't either coming from my own children. So we agreed to disagree and I would not mention anything about my social life to him if he didn't ask but if he did I wasn't going to lie to him. He would not like the answer I gave him. Until the time I showed up at Thanksgiving he and I had a fragile relationship to say the least, it was like walking on egg shells at all times but still it was a relationship.

As of today its been almost 13 years since I've seen my Father, almost 12 since I last spoke to him. I've accepted that is his choice and I'm okay with that. Maybe its because I didn't live with him growing up and I was already at a disconnect. Maybe its because I already knew how he would respond and had begun  to process it before the conversations ever happened.

January 2000, I came back to Cincinnati to visit friends and show off my new girl! She was 9 months old at the time. I called my Dad to see if he would like to meet his granddaughter. He replied with 'you made your choices, live with them. He didn't want to see her or me.' I told him that I respected his wishes but I would consider him as dead and to please not change his mind. I do not want him in and out of our lives, its all of us or none of us, all the time. He said no problem and hung up. That was the last conversation I ever had with him. I hung up the phone and I cried. It was real, it hurt and I didn't understand how people, my father, could be so cold. But, I understood that was his choice to make.

Over the years I have missed him at various times but have resigned myself to the fact that he just can't handle it and its his loss. He is missing 2 of the best children around. I see my Dad in my son at times, especially in childhood pictures of my Dad. My son would learn so much from him because I always grew up thinking my Dad knew everything even though I didn't live with him. He is surely missing out on some really great kids...........