June 6, 2016

I've Been Promoted from Demon to Alien

One of the most anticipated blockbuster movies had opened at the theaters and Peter and I couldn't wait to see it.  Since our mother wanted to see it too, we didn't have to beg her to take us.  Even though Grace had gone with us, she didn't seem interested or impressed with the movie.

Peter and I were very impressed.  We loved the movie and afterwards we couldn't stop talking about it.  Peter tried to convince me that his favorite character, a hairy big foot looking side kick that made funny sounds was better than my favorite character, a cute little robot.

After we finished arguing about our favorite characters we began talking about the cool special effects and the cool looking aliens in the movie.  During our conversation mother had walked over and we could tell she was angry when she told us it was time to go home.

It became automatic for me to immediately shut up as soon as I sensed mother was upset about something.  I spent the entire trip home racking my brain trying to figure out what could have made her upset.  She enjoyed the movie and seemed happy when we got out of the movie.  I couldn't figure out what made her angry.

Once we got home she started crying and demanded to know why I was comparing her to one of the aliens in the movie.  Peter and looked at each other confused.  We had no idea what she was talking about.  When Peter told mother we were talking about the alien characters in the movie she stopped crying, walked over to me and slapped me.  She accused me of being an alien and that's why I loved the movie so much.

She ranted about what an evil alien I was and how I had destroyed her life.  She made it clear that she would never forgive me for comparing her to an alien.  Despite Peter reminding her that her English wasn't very good and she misunderstood what we were talking about, mother refused to listen. 

I went to sleep that night feeling confused.  I didn't understand what had happened.  I didn't understand how anyone could jump to the kind of wild conclusions my mother always jumped to.  I was confused about how my own mother could be convinced that I was either a demon or an alien.  It hurt that she continued to see me as anything evil, when in reality, I had never done anything to hurt her.

I was devastated when the following week she told me she wasn't going to my eighth grade graduation.  She refused to go to an alien's graduation.

She did take me shopping to buy my graduation dress.  Even though I hadn't done anything wrong, while we were shopping I apologized for anything I may have done to hurt her feelings, and asked her to please come to my graduation.  She made it clear that my powers to control people would not work on her and she would not come to my graduation.

A few days before my graduation, Peter tried to explain to our mother that it would be wrong of her not to come.  I would be the only one graduating without a parent attending.  He also reminded her that I was going to receive a special award in mathematics and I was going to give a speech.  She didn't care about anything.  She accused the school of making a mistake giving someone as stupid as me an award for anything.

On the day of my graduation only Peter and Grace came.  I was surprised that Grace came.  She never visited me in the hospital when I almost died, but she came to my graduation.  I decided that she was probably spying for mother.

When the other kids and a few of the teachers asked where my mother was, Peter and I lied and said that she couldn't get off of work. 

I felt conflicted about my mother not coming to my graduation.  A part of me was sad that my own mother didn't want to see me accomplish something.  There was also a part of me that was glad that she wasn't there.  Even though she acted fairly normal around other people, she seemed to be getting stranger and it would have been more embarrassing if she had said or done something strange.

I think it was the first time I began to disassociate myself emotionally from my family.  It was also the first time that I realized that things might be better without my family.

As teachers praised me for excelling to college level calculus and trigonometry, and even on my speaking voice as I accepted my award, I allowed myself to daydream and believe for just one day that maybe mother was wrong and I could accomplish something in life. 

I even dared to dream of possibly becoming a scientist as a couple of teachers spoke to me and Peter of colleges I might want to consider that had outstanding math and science departments.

Peter was so proud of me and told me that since I was going to be starting high school as an honor math student, I had to work hard so I could get a scholarship for college.  I promised him I would, not knowing that in less than a couple of years, my entire life would be destroyed and I would never become a scientist.

Whatever dreams I had during the day disappeared in the evening when I showed mother the award I was given.  She looked at it and said it was worthless and ugly, just like me.

I ended up throwing the award in the garbage because it became an ugly reminder of my mother.  It had lost all meaning to me.  It didn't matter how many awards or certificates any school wanted to give me, I knew I would never achieve anything.  Even if I wasn't stupid, I knew I would never feel confident enough to pursue anything I ever dreamed of.

I had no idea to what extent I had been damaged emotionally and mentally, but I began to understand that there was something wrong with me as I mentally degraded myself as mother always had.

Whenever I made a mistake at work, I mentally abused myself by telling myself how stupid and worthless I was.

When I went shopping for new clothes for work, I would look at myself in the mirror and tell myself how fat and ugly I was.

Years of abuse had eroded my mind into a state of self hatred.  I equated myself to nothing more than a stain on life.

For years I lived in a robotic state.  Wake up, go to work, eat, sleep, repeat.

It was a fateful day, in a bookstore, looking for a new mystery book to read, when I walked by an aisle entitled “psychology” that would be the beginning of a healing process I had not yet seen unfolding.

I sat on the floor in the psychology aisle of the bookstore for hours.  When they announced the store was closing, I grabbed the last book I was reading and paid for it.

It was the beginning of my life, I just didn’t know yet.

1 comment :

  1. Tried to send this as a contact but it failed to send.

    Reading a person's Tweets is one thing. Learning the story in the background is quite another. I am so very sorry for your ordeal but at the same time I am very happy for your healing. Perhaps if it would do some good read there are many things in that book that can be helpful to further and complete that healing. All the best to you. lkh