Posts tagged fear
I’m used to January being a bittersweet month and I’ve come to expect February’s to hold some sort of devastation. However, February 2012 takes the cake, and that is no small feat considering Februarys past.
Within three weeks of Pawpa getting sick, he was gone; poof, just like that. We had little time to wrap our minds around his ultimate fate, much less accept it. Once hospice took over his care I knew it was just a matter of time, but I still hoped like hell that he would beat the odds. I tried to be there for him as much as I could in his last few weeks. How could I not? He was my Pawpa and I wanted to make sure that he knew how much I loved him. When I felt his last heartbeats and realized that he was gone, I wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and take my last breaths as well.
There is so much bullshit going on right now I don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my head. I’ve been in a form of shock over my grandfather’s health. I wasn’t prepared for this. I don’t know how to handle it in a healthy way. My first instinct was to cut because I knew that seeing my blood would help me feel better and bring on the calm numbness.
I need to stop smoking. It’s getting too expensive, my job has made it harder to smoke during work hours, even on break, and the biggest reason of all: I just found out the best man1 I’ve ever known, my Pawpa, has lung cancer.
He was rushed to the hospital last week with chest pain. He had been tired and lethargic all week and my Granny thought he might have been having another heart attack. Turns out he was severely anemic and had to have a few blood transfusions. The doctors ran more tests and found an enlarged, hemorrhaging mass in his lungs. They admitted him for several days and did a biopsy.
- related to me [↩]
People have told me I was perceptive since as far back as I can remember. At times, my perceptiveness felt like it was its own entity which I had no control over; it had its own voice in my head. Looking back on it, I mostly perceived negative things, but that was likely caused by all the bad things around me. While growing up, I could usually read a man’s ulterior motives in a matter of seconds. I could also see all of the mistakes my mother was making or about to make and part of me hated her for them.
She interviewed four sex offenders, two of which reminded me of the two abusers who caused me the most harm. One was a father who molested his daughter; he reminded me of my ex-stepfather, Larry. The other was a guy who started molesting a younger family member when they were both children. He eventually started raping her as well. He reminded me of my cousin.
I was sexually abused from ages six to twenty, by more than a dozen offenders. I’ve spent more than 85% of my life smothered by the resulting shame and guilt. The sexual abuse affected my capacity to form healthy relationships. I still have been unsuccessful in maintaining a healthy relationship because I fear intimacy and vulnerability. I thought, at their core, that every man has the ulterior motive to hurt me in one way or another.