I was cleaning out more things from what used to be her room. I wasn't looking at anything; I had already been hurt enough by things that I had seen and found. I bought boxes and was just throwing things away, and it felt more than amazing. Pictures off the wall being given away, making this space happy and one fit for my granddaughter; my heart was filled with happiness. Then there was a letter in front of me. And the words that I saw were a goodbye letter to Sherri. I picked it up, set them aside for later, and continued throwing everything away — everything that reminded me of her.
There were some things that just broke my heart, which I will write word for word from her goodbye letter in blue; some of them are hard to read. And then I will try to convey my feelings about them, and my truth. I don't know of any other way to get through them. Some of the things are crushing, and I feel like I'm being stabbed through the heart.
I can not let you manipulate me into feeling sorry for you ?_- Sorry for you? For What?
I don't know what this is supposed to mean. I never tried to manipulate you, and never once wanted you to feel sorry for me. I did everything the opposite, actually. I think it was the "For what?" that struck me the most. Maybe for the things that your husband did, maybe for not keeping me safe, maybe for making me your friend, maybe for losing my childhood, maybe for having to be a co-spouse and take care of all the things that you did as his wife. If you want honesty, there are many things that you should have felt differently about, but not once did I ever want you to feel sorry for me; I wanted you to see me and do things differently. I want you to take responsibility, be a mother, and keep me safe.
I bought you a laptop, a diamond ring, I bought you a 1000 dollar diamond ring
I was grateful for that laptop; I needed it for school, and it really was very helpful. The ring, okay, I was grateful and I loved it. I don't know why it's even being brought up. Were there stipulations to that ring? I will gladly take it off and put it away; it is off my finger as I write this. It was a gift that I didn't ask for, and nothing that I asked you to spend. It feels like a slap in the face. Look at what I spent on you. I would have rathered kindness and understanding over that ring any day.
You forgot a week at a beach house? You forgot the ponies for their birthday? Too bad you can't remember the good things.
Crazy how two people can remember things so differently. I remember the beach house well; it was my birthday, and Gotye was on Saturday Night Live that weekend. I remember the crazy nightmares, and the inability to fall asleep. When walking on the beach, you chose to walk with Chris's girlfriend, and I was left alone. There was Drama the night of my birthday. I just wanted to take a walk on the pier, but that never happened. There was drama, and I was left to my own devices. For my birthday, I was given a mouse for my computer. I was drowning and trying to smile for my children. The Beach was a place where I felt peace when things were so hard. I would sit on the deck, tears flowing, yeah, too bad I can't remember the good things. I remember feeling like I could breathe watching the sunrise and drinking my coffee, my kids safely playing on the lower deck. The ponies for their birthday, I will never forget. I saved and was so excited to do that for them. I wanted them to have a birthday to remember, and they had a blast. The ponies were more than amazing, and everything was more than perfect. One of the best parties in the world, but a birthday party for my children doesn't erase yours, and years of trauma and abuse. I do remember many good things, special moments with my children, and how they got to live a life so different than mine, because of the things I created.
All of your ghosts haunt you. You live in a haunted house, and I refuse to visit
Wow, I'm not sure how to respond to this one. You refuse to visit a place that you helped create; maybe that lies at the heart of the problem. Yes, I was haunted by all the things that had happened to me, all the things that you pretended not to know about, and I needed you. I needed you to care, I needed you to hold my hand and let me know I wasn't so awful. I needed a mom, but you were too preoccupied with all that you had going on to even notice that I was slowly slipping away. My job was to take care of you my entire life, and I always did, until that day came when I put myself first. That never went over well with you. Goodness, you hated that my children came first. All of your ghosts haunt you, yes, they did. I once lived in a haunted house, where everyone pretended that everything was fine and everything was good, but nothing was fine. You refuse to visit, you talk about wanting things to be different, but refuse to help me where I am. I was in the darkest place you could imagine, trying to process things that had happened to me on my own, so don't you dare talk about what I am haunted by and then refuse to visit. I was pressing charges on my father alone, I was going through the court system alone, and there were no words of support or comfort or anything from you. I was breaking family secrets, and it killed you. I was fighting those ghosts, standing up wanting better for others, wanting to make sure that another little girl wasn't hurt by him like I was.
You listed all the counselors I had seen and said at least they loved me, yes they did you walked away, ran away the victim again and again and again
I don't know what all my counselors have to do with anything. I was grasping at straws, trying to find some help and support. The world that I carried was burdensome, and I was caving from the weight of all that had happened in my life. I never walked away from counseling, that was a place I ran to looking for help when none was offered at home. I never gave up on counseling. You are very wrong, I was never the victim, I never walked into counseling thinking Oh, poor me, look at the things that I have survived I walked in there with a will to fight, and to take back all that was taken from me. I was not a victim again and again and again. I grew, I changed, I became stronger, and I moved to a place where I was going to be given the help that I desperately longed for. You speak about how you went to each counselor, sharing your life with them in an attempt to help me, but I don't understand. I was in counseling to heal my life and the things that I survived. My getting counseling had nothing to do with your past, and you were unable to see that. You saw my counselors because you were afraid of what I was saying. You wanted to be the big hero, but I'm here to help. No, you were only there for yourself, trying to save face and making sure there were few family secrets told.
I know of you from journals left out, journals I searched for to get inside of you to read emails.
This is fascinating. If you read my journals and emails, you would have gained valuable insight into all that I was going through. You would have known the things that happened to me and how I was tormented by flashbacks and nightmares each and every day. You would have seen my heart and the things that I was struggling with. You would have had a better understanding of the person I was and why I reacted in specific ways. You read journals and emails for information, but not to intervene and offer help. You saw the scratches on my arms and all the bruises on my legs; you saw the evidence of just how much I was trying to fight. The things I wrote in those were who I was to my core. I was dying inside, and the journals were where I turned, and you want to use that against me. You never wanted to get inside of who I was; you wanted information and to know what family secrets I was no longer keeping. It's hard to imagine that you read them knowing I wasn't okay and still stood by, doing nothing; that's where the problem lies.
Oh yes, James, where is he now ?
James was the only person that I had for a time. And you're even including him is another sword that I didn't deserve. You will never understand what he meant, and you don't deserve to know what happened. He was everything to me for a time; he gave me more love and support than you ever did. People change what they need changes and, I was in that place. I was going further than James was able to help; that is what happened. So fuck you, for wanting to destroy something that I clung on to for dear life.
You wrote about your abuse, and how I didn't want to hear that
That may be the truest thing that you have said in the letter. It was only after I pressed charges against my father that you showed an interest in sharing about yourself. Not once did you ever ask what he did, what happened to me, you said, he molested me, no he raped me from before I was 5. There was never a time in my life when I didn't know about sex and what was expected. I knew it was good night when he couldn't get an erection, how is that for 5 year old knowledge. I didn't have the words. He would straddle my neck on your water bed and want me to perform oral sex. He would threaten me not to get sick and push me out of bed. He would touch me, his hands everywhere, all the time. He would come into my bed at night, and I would have to hold his cross so it didn't make any noise as he raped my little body. Many mornings, I would sneak to the trash and throw my bloody underwear away. Did you even notice how often they were missing ? He would kiss you and look at me; there was never a single second when I wasn't terrified of him. So, did I want to hear all about your abuse? No, I did not. I had enough terror in my mind. I wanted someone to see me, hold my heart, and help me heal. This was not about you.
I trained myself to remember the good stuff, moment to moment, how stupid that I thought I was- I wasn't stupid, I was surviving. How dare you hate me
What you don't understand is that I kept smiling, kept living. The difference is that you were an adult, you had a choice; I did not. I hated you; yes, I did. I still hate you because you never stood up for me. You never said, 'I am here; what do you need?' You never asked what he did to me, you never wanted to hear what your husband put me through, because you were too self-centered, while you were living moment to moment, remembering the good stuff, your husband was hurting me. How dare I hate you? I expect nothing less than that if my children were suffering and I did nothing to keep them safe and sound. If I knew that atrocious things were happening to my children, I would spend every day the rest of my life making up for that. I would never tell them to just move on, get over it, or that it's over.
I thought I was his victim, never ever did I imagine that he was coming to you at night
Bullshit. Because I still hear your words in my head all the time, when one of those counselors that you talked about had you in for a session. She asked, Where do you think he was going at night? And your response literally said it all. You said, "Well, at least he wasn't in my bed ". You said that out loud in front of other therapists in the room and two interns. You knew where he was, but you cared more about yourself. You were there for his cruelness often and did nothing to intervene, making me climb on the dining room table to shove pills down my throat; you were there in the kitchen. When I was hit, I wanted some comfort from you when you were in the living room. When I was made to stand up at the dinner table for rocking in my chair, when friends came over, you saw his cruelty and did nothing, just a bystander, so you keep wondering why I hated you. Is that really a fair question?
I lived that tomorrow would be better, you live in look what my life has tortured me with--poor me--Over and over you tell your story, oh what will they think if they knew who I am? How dare you
I am thrilled that you were able to live, hoping that tomorrow would be better. I knew that tomorrow would not be better for me; I knew I would be hurt and humiliated. So, I made sure that those around me were safe; I went out of my way to ensure that others were taken care of. I was not cared for, and I was going to give others all the things that I never got. That is how I survived. I do not, and never did, live in a place where I dwelled on the things that happened to me. I mostly blamed myself, wanting to find some rhyme and meaning when there was literally none. For decades, I blamed myself for picking out one of his T-shirts to sleep in. I was telling my story because it deserved to be told, it deserved to live somewhere other than in my heart and soul. How dare I tell my story? Why is that a bad thing? Why was my healing a problem for you? You were not a part of it. How dare I? I don't understand. How dare I heal? How dare I try to move on?
I am asked if I forgive you, how can I forgive you for something you do every waking moment that you have
The word itself is a hard one for me. Forgiveness, I'm not a fan of it, really. What exactly do I need to be forgiven for? What did I do every waking moment that was so terrible? Survive in ways that I knew how, breathe, I am not sure.
Did you know Det Clemons came to the learning center- oh yes you do, you got a copy of his report I saw that in an email. To help you, I gave him every torturous moment that I spent with your father, so they could get the full picture of who he was. I shared every raw moment to help you...You hate me no more Sherri no more
Where do I start with this one? First, his name was Detective Plemons, and yes, I knew that he came to see you at work. It was a criminal investigation; he was doing his job, investigating the crimes against me. I knew because he told me, he was my only support as I went through the process of pressing charges and keeping Angela safe. I spoke with him often to understand all that was happening. You pretend that you spoke with him, sharing details to help me, do you want a fucking medal? I shared every raw moment. Great, he was a monster who deserved to be put away for a very long time. I am supposed to be forever grateful for you telling them what a monster he was? Yes, I hate you because you let it happen, you knew the things he was capable of and did nothing to stand up for your children. We are discussing two very different things. I hate you because you refused to give me the things that I needed, you spoke to him because I was choosing to do things differently, and there was a criminal investigation; he had a right to know what kind of monster he was dealing with, that is all. Yes, later I did obtain a copy of the report as I attempted to understand the entire legal process. I had questions that I needed answers for, and his report was part of that. I was just looking for another piece that I needed to find healing and peace.
If it wasn't for my faith- God's love for me, I do not know how I would have survived these last two years. For you to put down my friends, my church
I am very glad that you had your faith. I had nothing to do with any of your friends; they were just your friends. And your church. I never put down your church, I just expressed that it wasn't right for me or my children. You can do and go wherever you want. You knew that I had been significantly hurt by the church, and that was not something I wanted to be involved in; you were an adult, make your own choice. My views were different, I expressed them, and you didn't like that.
You are graduating from college, yet you feel you did it with no help from me Sad so sad
Unbelievable, you want credit for my college graduation? There were times when you were supportive, but my graduation was ultimately a result of my own tenacity and determination, and I let nothing stand in my way. I did it, with seeing the men who gang raped me at school. I did it, even though I was scared walking to my car after class. I did it when I was exhausted and working two jobs. I did it after I was raped and got pregnant with my children, I did it when there was every obstacle a person could imagine. I did it, I kept going, kept dreaming, and I did it. I did it through pressing charges on my father trying to save another little girl and going through the court system. I did it; when I had to ask Catrina for gas money to get to school, I did it, even though not a single soul believed in me. I did it. I did it those late nights doing homework after the kids went to bed. You can take no credit for that success. I wanted better for my children. The sad part is that I was alone.
You still have such a long journey ahead of you Someday reality may hit, maybe not, I know that I love you and did the best I could
Your best wasn't good enough, and for a great deal of the time, you didn't even try. I know there was a great deal of generational trauma for you, but that is no excuse. You keep your children safe, when you know better, you do better. When you read my journals and emails, you should have stepped up and done better. You knew the pain that I was in, and you chose to look the other way and focus on yourself. I stood up and did the right thing, as terrifying as it was. You are right, I do have a long journey ahead, and I will be on that journey forever, trying to heal and become the woman that I chose to be. I am well aware of reality, I have lived there my entire life. The truth is, I was broken by a household that didn't see me or value the person that I was. I lived in a household that set me up to be victimized over and over and over and not do a damn thing about it. The fact is that you were not there and always chose the needs of my father over the protection of your children. How about you let that reality sink in?
I would do it all over again, just a little different
How telling, you would just do it a little differently. So selfish. Just a little different at the cost of your daughter, that is heartbreaking. I could write about things that should have been different for the rest of my life. How dare you say, just a little different? A little difference is changing your hair color or your shirt. My life was something that needed more than a little change; I needed you to see me and believe in me. I needed you to do the hard things and keep me safe, to tell him to stop. I needed you to see and notice. I don't call those things 'a little different'; they were significant things that could have had a profound impact on how I lived my life then and how I continue to live my life. You would do it all again, but I would do nothing again. The hell that I grew up in, that you allowed, destroyed the little girl that I was supposed to be. There is nothing okay about that.
Enough for now time for a glass of wine be blessed in all you do
Just so cold, so distant. I often felt that way throughout my life, but I never understood why you hated me. I see your words about how much you loved me, but that was not my experience. Your love was very conditional, depending on whether your needs were being met. Big things would happen, and you casually watched, offering no help or support. You have that glass of wine; I hope it keeps you company and helps drown out your feelings about how our relationship has played out. Have I been cold and distant? Yes, often. I have to keep this tender heart of mine safe. I can not afford any more hurt to a heart that will forever be healing because of your choices. Be blessed in all you do, go fuck yourself. I have created a world where I am achieving each and every dream, doing things I never imagined, and supporting my children where they are. I see them, and I hear their heart; I notice everything.
I do believe it will take a miracle for you not to see me as a wicked person. But I do believe in miracles, May god bless you , shine his face on you and your children, may you get to know him, get unstuck and breathe his love and receive his grace
You and your god mean nothing to me. I prayed to god when I was 5 for the rapes to stop, I prayed to die each night when we would have to hold hands and pray. I would pray not to wake up because I couldn't be hurt anymore! Your god was not something I ever wanted to believe in. I believe in kindness, whales, and in doing the right thing. I believe in the trees and the rain and the smile on my children's faces when they are proud and excited. I believe in the sweet voice of my granddaughter as she coos and carries on a conversation. I am not stuck, I am healing. I do believe there was a wicked side to you, because you took care of yourself when I was drowning. I believe that you were one of the most self-centered people that I knew. Your needs were what mattered at any cost, even mine. You are just as guilty as my father in the damage that you have caused. There was a part of you that loved the idea of me, but you never loved the person I was or the woman I was becoming. You hated my strength, my desire to keep moving forward, and my desire to make a difference and stand up for what is right. You lost out, and that was your choice.
I am relieved that you are gone. I am relieved that I no longer have to fight a battle that I know wasn't good for me. You can no longer hurt my children; you have no control over anything that I do in this life. You have done a great deal of damage to my very soul, and it's going to take time to heal, maybe lifetimes, but I will never stop fighting. I am not sorry that you are not here. I miss having a mom, but I do not miss you. I get sad sometimes, for Vincent, he loved you so, but I know that you were often unhealthy for him, I hope in time he will be able to recognize that. You wanted to pass down the unhealthy environment that I grew up in, and hated that I wanted something different for myself and my family. I was his mom and stood up for what I believed was right. Almost all of your things are gone from the house, and with each object, each memory gone, there is a sigh of relief. I have found enough hurtful things written by you; I have seen enough to last for several lifetimes. I have come to understand that, regardless of the number of times you said you loved me, I meant very little. I have read this letter trying to understand your words, but I never will. There is no way for me to have a clear understanding, and at this point, I don't want to waste my energy. You never saw me. You never understood who I was or what I wanted to be in this world, and that's what makes me sad.
You are gone, and I can't let you hurt me anymore. I won't let you. I have a beautiful life to live, sharing the love I have with my beautiful children and granddaughter. I am making a difference and using the life I've lived to be a voice for others; there is not a single thing that is controlled by you. So, I guess this is a goodbye.
I heart your heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment