Sisters and brothers

My grandmother turned 82 today. To celebrate the occasion two of my aunties flew in from across the country to organize a special birthday luncheon in her honor.

This morning my sisters and I loaded our respective families into cars and set out on the two hour road trip to her country home where the party was to be held. After a long drive with numerous toilet breaks for the kids we finally arrived. 

With everyone helping, before too long the party was in full gear. The time was appreciated as it is a rare that we have the opportunity to all gather together as a family. My parents were invited but much to everyone's relief declined to come. As they have cut us off and have had nothing to do with us in for years it was no surprise.

We talked, we laughed, we played and teased each other like families tend to do and all in all had a blast. 

Anybody walking into that room would have no doubt that the smiles and laughter were genuine and we were having a great time.

I sat at the table and looked around the room. I looked at my brothers and sisters. I thought how fortunate I was to have them.

I saw the smiles on their faces the joy in their voices but when I looked carefully I could also see pain lurking behind their eyes.

I watched my brother discuss with my husband how hard he is trying to rid his drug addiction. I observed my sister who is no longer religious talking to her boyfriend, finally at peace with herself after a messy divorce. I watched another sister running after her four adorable kids, blessed after years of infertility.

But I didn't only see the pain. More than that, I saw the acceptance of one another, the friendship, the love.

In some families abuse can tear the children apart it ours it only brought us closer together. My siblings mean everything to me. 

We have been, still are, and always will be there for one another. They have been a part of my journey standing beside me, supporting me and always behind me every step of the way.

I am the luckiest person to have them and I would not change that for anything in the world.

A letter to my abuser.

Dear Sexual Abuser,

I was having a hard time at home. You approached me, promised to help me. I opened up to you. Confided in you. You told me I could trust you. I believed you.

I vividly remember the first time you touched me. We sat on that living room couch of yours and I bared my heart to you. You said you felt so close to me. You wanted to show how much you loved me.

My mind refused to acknowledge the abuse. I felt nothing. I was numb. I went to a place inside myself that you could not reach.

I was young and naive. I let my guard down. I thought I was safe with you. You preyed on my vulnerability. You knew I had no one else to turn to.

Sometimes at night I lie in bed and I think about you. I wonder if you ever lie in bed and think about me? Have you once thought about the consequences of your actions? 

I spent years ashamed and embarrassed. I felt guilty, believing it was my fault. I looked up to you. I respected you. I blamed myself for needing you.

You stole a part of me. The little bit of trust I had left you took that from me. School was my safe place and you ruined it for me.

Why did you do it? Why me? Do you know how much pain you caused me? Did you enjoy the power over me? Did you want to hurt me?  Did you ever care about me? Was I just someone to be used? Did I mean anything to you?  

I spent a long time searching for answers, digging up suppressed memories buried deeply in my mind. I know now it was not my fault.

I have a loving husband and a beautiful daughter now. I am studying to get a degree in psychology so one day I can help children who have been abused. I am making something of myself. I have reclaimed the power you took from me. I have let go the shame and guilt that was pulling me down. I am moving forward. 

You may have tainted my past but you will not hold me back from my future.

I have some memories...

-I'm 5 years old. My big sister is in trouble she did something bad. Mummy is screaming at her a lot. Really screaming at her and slapping her hard. She drags her to the bathroom takes the soap and forces it into my big sister's mouth. Scraps it really hard on her teeth. Really hard till there is no more soap left. My big sister is crying and asking her to stop. She wont she is to angry. She tells my big sister to pack her bags, she has to leave. Doesn't want her as a daughter anymore. Mummy tells us that a lot and makes us pack our bags but she never actually made us leave. But tonight she does. Tells her to leave and not come back. My big sister took her suitcase with her. She is gone. I'm scared. I want my big sister back. What if Mummy makes us leave to?

- I'm 11 years old. Shopping in a mall with mummy and my little sister. My little sister wants something and asks Mummy if she can have it. Mummy is not in a good mood. She slaps my little sister hard for daring to ask for something. A man stops and tells her she should not be hitting her children. Mummy tells him to mind his own business. Her daughter asked for something she knows she can't afford. The man says to tell her that no need to hurt her she is just a kid maybe she doesn't understand. It makes sense to me. Sounds simple. But it is never like that. Mummy is mad and so angry you can feel it. She drags us back to the car in silence that is when you know she is really mad. We get home she is angry, extremely angry. Mummy is hitting and slapping my little sister really hard. She embarrassed her in the shop today. My little sister has bruises on her face the next day can't go to school. Mummy keeps her home and she has to clean the house all day.

- I'm 10 years old. Shabbos afternoon coming back home from Shabbos group. Walking down the street on my own. I hate doing that there is 2 massive horse dogs that live nearby. I'm petrified of dogs got bitten by one when I was 5. I can see them in the distance 2 big dogs I'm scared. They smell my fear. They start running towards me. I start walking a little quicker. The dogs are catching up to me. I start running suddenly they are chasing me. I've never run so fast in my life 2 huge dogs almost as big as me chasing me I'm petrified. I'm screaming really loud the whole street can hear me. Mummy hears me comes outside. I can see her in the distance. Why isn't she coming to rescue me? The dogs are biting my clothes. A car passes by stops a man gets out. He whistles to the dogs. He gets them into his car. They are gone. Run home Mummy goes inside. I ask her why she didn't come and take them away from me. I can't remember the reason she gave me. Later she tell me I deserved the scare was a good punishment for something I did.

These are some painful memories. Memories that make up my past. But I will not let my past define me I will move forward. I will make new memories. Nice memories that will one day be my daughters.

Suicide

The topic nobody wants to talk about. The act of intentionally causing your own death.

Who wants to admit that they were in such deep pain they could not conceive living another day.

It is excruciating to see someone you love struggling with the will to live. How do you convince them that no matter how bleak the situation is death is never the answer. There really is nothing you can say all you can do is be there for them, support them and pray that they win the massive internal battle between life and death.

I know my sister has been having a really hard time recently. I've witnessed her facing this inner conflict. I sat down with her, held held her hands and begged her to choose life. I pleaded with her to not give up. Told her I couldn't survive without her.

I knew exactly how she felt I've been there myself.

After my miscarriage I fell into a deep depression. I didn't leave the house for weeks. I stopped eating and spent days in bed.

I somehow managed to hide the worst from my husband, talk to friends and family like normal not wanting them to worry but inside I was screaming. I remember the feeling of utter hopelessness and despair. I would wake up in the morning and wonder if I would still be alive to watch the sun go down. I was in such a dark place I told myself no one would miss me, were better of without me.

The only thing that made me feel any better was looking at the medicine cabinet near my bed and knowing I could end it whenever I wanted. At one point the pull was so intense I took a key and locked myself out of the house not knowing if I could resist. It was at that point I made the decision for life over death. 

I wish I could do more for my sister, make the decision for her. But it is her fight only she has that power all I can do is hope she has the strength to make the right choice.

Unconditional Love

Last night I read the diary I kept during my pregnancy. I'm only 8 weeks postpartum so I can easily recall the sense of eager excitement as my due date drew near. I had a difficult pregnancy. Physically the baby was healthy and well, emotionally I was a train wreck.

At around 6 months pregnant I began battling with my addiction again something I thought I had left in the past.

It was the love for my unborn baby that kept me strong. Many times it helped me stop in the tracks from doing something that could have been potentially harmful. Before I even met my daughter I knew I only wanted the best for her.

The minute my little miracle was born I felt a huge rush of maternal love and as the weeks have flown by it has only grown.

Waking up at least three times a night, eating literally every hour during the day, refusing to get into any schedule, bringing up on my newly dry cleaned clothes just as I'm running out the house,  all parts of her I love.

Sure it bothers me once in a while and I do occasionally miss the freedom I had before she was born. But it is something called unconditional love. A mothers love for her offspring. The kind of love that no matter what your child does you would do anything for them. For no reason other then you are their mother, the person who loves them more then anyone else.

My mother lives 2 streets down from me and I have seen her once in the past 4 years.

I grew up without that unconditional love, a need every child deserves to have met. When I was young I would try my hardest to earn it. Work tirelessly to please my mother hoping she would be proud of me. I was to young to understand why it would never be good enough for her.

As an adult I stopped asking for it. I realised even when said the words were meaningless. ''I love you'' does not hold any significance when two minutes later her mood had changed and it was '' I hate you''  or ''you don't deserve to live'  or the worst ''you are unlovable''.

Hearing those words drummed into me day after day I began to question if there was any truth to them. I convinced myself it was only words, I refused to let it hurt me. But obviously it did affect me till this day I find it hard to believe when my husband says he loves me.

My friends laugh at me when I tell them I don't let my baby cry. I read somewhere that babies feels a sense of security when their needs are met straight away. I'm determined my children will always feel safe, secure, and most importantly loved. And while I may go over the top a bit, overcompensate, my guess is that to much love is a way better alternative to no love.

My therapist thinks I should write a book.

I have the storyline all planned out already.

The story begins with a little girl, growing up in a close minded religious community where serious issues are pushed under a rug and ignored. Her mother has borderline personality disorder, her father physically there but emotionally a shell.

The little girl spends her days absolutely terrified of making the smallest mistake knowing that even the tinniest wrong move could set her mother off into a rage. She does her best to please her mother to avoid the physical abuse but never knowing what could upset her it is to no avail.

School is her safe place and she puts her trust into the one person who she thinks can help her. So when the teacher starts hugging and kissing her she believes it is out of love. But then it turns sexual and the little girl who is now a teenager is confused. Growing up in such a community she is totally naive and wonders if the teacher is really doing it out of love like she claims or is she using her?

With no one else to turn to or trust this continues until she gets married.

The young women and her husband leave to Israel hoping to put the past behind her, begin a new life, and start her own family.

But the months and then the years go by and and after visits to top doctors they discover they have unexplained infertility. After 3 years and expensive treatments they discover they are finally pregnant. At 13 weeks just as they beginning to believe it is real they rush to hospital at 2:00am praying that the blood doesn't mean a miscarriage. The nurse cannot find a heartbeat.

The young women falls into a deep clinical depression and begins to question her religion and why God has done this to them. She turns to the Internet to give her temporary relief from the pain and develops an addiction to self harm.

After her husband realises his wife is in danger he decides to take her back to their hometown. There she gets a job, begins to study,and with her friends and family surrounding her the depression lifts.

Fertility treatments start again and after a year the couple are overjoyed and a little nervous to find they are pregnant again.

The baby is healthy and is growing at a good rate. With all the hormones racing at 6 months the addiction returns. With the help of therapy she makes it through the pregnancy safely and gives birth to a gorgeous baby girl.

One look at the her little miracle and her world changes forever.

I am 23 yrs old, married, with a newborn daughter and this story is not a figment of my imagination it is the story of my life.

I want to write about what it means to grow up unloved, not wanted, betrayed by the people meant to protect you, live in fear of the people supposed to love you. It changes your psyche. As a child you learn things children should never know about. You struggle to adapt and do whatever you can to survive. You strive to become the person you are expected to become. You yearn to be free, shed the mask, and find out who you really are.

And then you grow up get married and are thrown into a new world with new rules. A world you have only ever looked in on from the outside. Fighting to fit in and not take advantage of the new found freedom. Resisting the pull of an addiction to return to the only world you know. A world of pain.

But this blog is not only about the my challenges it is also about the rewards. Sisters and brothers who are there for me and stand by me through everything. I have made some amazing friends and met some amazing people along this journey. People who have reached out to help me and be there for me when I needed them most.