eidolon

shifting mists
2001-12-14 05:51:38 (UTC)

ending the invalidation of memories ...

.... i'm starting to have memories ... disturbing memories ... or
rather ... sigh .... i've always had these memories ... kind of ...
i've always just been ~ detached ~ from them ... but it seems that
they have decided to link themselves together .. whereas before they
were separate entities ... not remembered at the same times but
rather one floating up here or there .... and like most things that
disturb me i pushed them away .... i invalidated them ... called them
my imagination ... called them a trick of memory .... i ignored
them ....

... and now .. all of a sudden for some reason i can't anymore ...
and they are all there at once within my mind ...

Alone...listless...breakfast table in an otherwise empty room
Young girl...violins...center of her own attention
Mother reads aloud, child, tries to understand it
Tries to make her proud

.... the memory of sitting on the couch with dad before he was
mean ... reading aloud from a book with his arms around me ..
practicing because i was never very good at reading out loud in
class .... and his hands roaming over my legs and slipping into my
pants between them .... i remember the embarrassed and uncomfortable
feeling of him touching me there.... i don't remember anything
else ....

.. the memory of being in my bedroom and pushing that big heavy bed
up against the door ... the feeling of fear and turmoil inside as i
concentrated on tying the doorknob to the bedpost ... winding the
wire around and around and how hard it was to bend .... and later ...
someone trying to open that barricaded door. ...

The shades go down, it's in her head
Painted room...can't deny there's something wrong...

... the memory of being in the bathroom with mom ... just having
finished brushing my teeth and closing the door so we could be
alone .... and telling her .... i can't remember the words ... but i
remember ~everything~ about my surroundings ... the lighting ... the
colours ... what was on the counter .... and i remember feeling like
she didn't believe me .... feeling scared that she'd think i was
lying ...

.... for so long i have told myself these things were not linked ....
stubbornly keeping them apart from each other in my mind ...
stubbornly insisting they couldn't be anything more than my
overactive imagination .... i was so young in these memories ...
~maybe~ in 5th grade is my guess since they all take place in the
same house .. a house we moved into around that time ...

Don't call me daughter, not fit to
The picture kept will remind me
Don't call me daughter, not fit to
The picture kept will remind me
Don't call me...

.... it was soon after that age that the fighting started between him
and i .... and that quickly bled into the violence that i know of him
so well .... and my thoughts are that perhaps mom ~did~ believe
me ... and spoke to him about it .... and that is why the fighting
began .... his anger at being thwarted perhaps? ....

... there have been times when we'd fight .. while things were
getting violent that he would brush a breast or tweak a nipple ...
things that made me uncomfortable and i never acknowledged until
now .... i can still remember the feeling ... that violated
feeling .. not of being hit or kicked but of having his hands
somewhere they shouldn't be ....

She holds the hand that holds her down
She will...rise above...ooh...oh...whoah

... i'm scared .... i'm scared of remembering anything else .... i'm
not sure i want to know any thing more ... i know it's not my
choice ... but i'm scared ... i spoke to an advocate at the Domestic
Violence office on Wednesday .... told her my memories and
embarrassingly cried .... though i tried not to ... i'm not sure
where the tears came from ... but my fear is there .... the fear of
being called a liar ... the fear that i ~am~ a liar ... or a
fake .... that it's my imagination ... not just what i remember
now ... but about everything ... even though i know that it can't be
true .... that i AM speaking the truth ... that what i remember is
truth or it wouldn't keep bugging me and bothering me ....

Don't call me daughter, not fit to
The picture kept will remind me
Don't call me daughter, not fit to be
The picture kept will remind me
Don't call me...

.... i told my advocate of these memories and it was like a huge rush
of relief ... a weight lifted .... and yet i still feel the fear .. i
hate it ..... i want to ask my mother ... ask her what she
remembers ... validate my memories with someone who was there ... but
she wouldn't .... wouldn't validate a thing but would rather lie and
defend him ... i have confronted her with her lies in the past and
there was no comment ... just more defense of him and his actions ...

The shades go down
The shades go, go, go...

... why can't i have the confidence in my memories without having
them validated by another? .... i have a brilliant mind ... and
yet ... no confidence....

... and i am so angry ...

Lyrics courtesy of the song ''Daughter'' by Pearl Jam.