I think I thought I had to prepare to be different. Prepare to change. Prepare to move backwards, to undo, un-think, un-act. Prepare to undo the authenticity, to no longer be the me that I have uncovered in the painful excavating as I delved into the reality of being raised steeped in so many layers of dysfunction....that somehow, I had to prepare to cover all that I had uncovered; about Me.
That standing in the truth of me; will be unacceptable.
And, perhaps those expecting the old covered up and hidden abuse girl, will be disappointed. The pretending and hiding of feelings will not happen. The old me is dead.
Her ghost is what perhaps I fear arriving. For the old me was loved and accepted....the new me was not.
My words were not believed...
Oh, they would tell you they believe me, that they THINK, just like me....but, it is the actions that have the last say.
They have never not stopped acting like a family.
A 'loving' family...even against reality. It is the staged act that fights with my reality.
What I know is how you are treated IF you don't appear on the Family Stage, if you refuse to utter the scripted lines, if you are unable to hit the correct marks on stage...I then become the 'wrong' one.
I am the one moving out of sync.
It feels like a family tsunami is arriving; a full cast of characters in complete family costumes...orchestrated from long long ago, and none of my lines and movements are choreographed in. I will be the one actor whose lines are from a different play.
How I move and what I say will not fit into the play of "family".
That I am the odd character...
The one who refuses to "get in Line".
Like I crashed a Long Running Theatrical play, purposefully to ruin it.
And, in a way I have. Well I tried at first to use my new Lines....but they were not accepted or heard. So, I left the stage....walked out of the theater. And, now the old play is coming to town. The show is back. The stage is heading my way.
I used to have dreams of trying to get the words out, and I simply could not use my throat and mouth, they seemed frozen....and no matter how hard I tried to speak, nothing left my mouth. My words unspoken.
I have found the key that unlocked my jaw...but not the one that has opened their ears.
So this family play that is coming to town, has ears that only hear family lines...
And I on the other hand only spew forth words that contradict the image of family.
They will have a chorus of voices to my one lone voice.
It will be like spitting into the wind.
It is also what any child who dares to speak up about a family member who has abused them is up against.
It is to stop the play.
A play that began many generations ago.
The Family Play.
I am one of the lucky ones who could read beneath the lines, see behind the scenes and see that the play they all thought they were playing, was really a show of horrors.
It is Billed and Advertised as a G-Rated show....but in reality it is all X Rated.
Behind the innocent appearing costumes and lines...is an intricate moving, living, breathing play of abuse. And, it will continue its long run as long as the family plays along.
Abuse needs the Family to cover, to play along.
What an incredible cast of supporting actors...playing their family roles so that abuse is covered up and not seen. It is like seeing a double feature at one time!
It almost feels like IF you concentrate hard on family, you will not see the abuse show that is running underneath.
In my world there is only one show in town....I refused to act and pretend the family show even exists...for its only purpose is to hide abuse.
This is me, at age 9... I believe I pretended to play family after the abuse, but now I can no longer pretend to pretend. My father introduced me to a new play.
