I exploded yesterday and it wasn’t pretty. It was like watching a modern day version of the Chernobyl disaster.
However, I did exaggerate a bit yesterday when I posted and said that now my parents know everything. I didn’t quite tell them everything. I told them I was abused for 5 years….well, I screamed at the top of my lungs that I was abused for 5 years. So, now my parents know. And the neighbors too. Plus their Memorial Day BBQ guests. And when I say “neighbors” I really mean everybody within a 200 foot radius (or maybe 500 feet?). Now, I didn’t tell my parents about the food issues. So, yeah, I didn’t tell them everything.
Ok, I give up trying to minimize what I told them. I told them a shitload. Period.
I haven’t been doing well these last two weeks in part because of some issues related to my sister MM and her husband. They’ve been having some problems that have involved also my sister Y and it has all turned into a big, glob of a monster-mess threatening what little integrity the family had. And I’m basically the only one supporting MM during this whole ordeal, so I’ve been carrying on my shoulders her issues in addition to mine. I knew I was stretching myself thin, but I pushed through.
My parents, knowing I am MM’s confidante, were all over me, asking me what was wrong with MM, creating more tension and putting more pressure on me. So, I snapped.
It started with my angrily going over to dad to tell him everything. It ended with both my parents sitting in front of me, in complete shock and sometimes confronting me while I screamed at the top of my lungs about everything that was wrong in the family, and their marriage, and their attitudes, and what was happening with MM, and my own issues, and how I was depressed, and suicidal, and had been abused for 5 years and…..it was a horrible word vomit. And of course it included all the theatricals, with sweat dropping down my forehead, tears and snot running down my nose.
Oh my….I still can’t believe I did that. I feel an incredible amount of shame, to be honest. I feel horrible.
Since that mess yesterday things have been calm at home; heck, even friendlier than usual. But I still feel like shit. I said too much and not in a pretty way. At least my dad agreed with a lot of what I said and he listened and later told me I opened his eyes to a lot of issues. My mom’s reaction was combative, as is usual for her, but she was surprisingly receptive every now and then.
I just feel so ashamed. There is just no other word to describe what I feel. And to think now my parents know the truth. 98% of it. I basically have no secrets to tell them anymore. I feel like I’ve been standing naked in front of a completely silent audience since yesterday. Talk about feeling vulnerable.
My dad said to me at one point after the mess that he wanted to talk to me in the coming days. He said it didn’t have to be today, tomorrow, or even this week, but he told me to think about it. I know he wants to talk about the abuse. I’m just glad he didn’t ask me anything yesterday or today, even. I’m glad he made himself available and is obviously worried, but gave me some space. Heck, maybe it’s because he simply doesn’t know how to approach the issue, but either way I’m glad he reacted that way. At one point during my nuclear word vomit, after I mentioned the abuse, I even said I didn’t want any hugs, kisses, or anything from him, and he seemed to just get it. He finally understood why I have trouble with that.
Mom, on the other hand, had a different reaction. I approached her a few hours after the mess and asked her if she had anything she wanted to say to me. She was calm, and said no. Then she said she was tired when she noticed I didn’t believe her. But I decided to leave it at that. I’m just….afraid she might not believe me about the abuse, to be honest. And I’m afraid she might never address the issue or….geez, I’m just afraid of what she thinks or will think.
So that’s what happened yesterday. I don’t know where to go from here. I’m honestly not expecting things at home to change, probably they’ll change for a bit and then go back to how they were. I just….don’t know what to do with myself. Should I apologize? Should I leave it at that? Should I cross my fingers and hope for the best? I don’t know. I have no clue.
And, to finish this post on a lighter note, I had a medication mix-up today. Instead of my usual 30mg of Prozac that I take in the morning I accidentally took 20mg of Ambien right after I woke up. I realized something was wrong when, halfway through breakfast I noticed one of my dogs had two heads instead of one….and when I stood up I had the nastiest ataxic gait (that’s walking like a drunk, to my non-medical readers)….then I think I hallucinated at one point (nothing serious)….then the amnesia….then the hiccups….
Yeah, don’t take 20mg Ambien on an empty stomach. I spent the day knocked out in my room, which was fine since I was too ashamed of myself to even take out the trash.
I guess they don’t call it Memorial Day weekend for nothing.