::pack:: of fixations

life after tragedy. living while grieving. love and triplets.


Black out

I used to think it was strangely fascinating when people would tell me that they’d “block things out”.  This person in front of me had experienced something so traumatic that their own brain hid it away from itself, in order to protect itself from reliving the horrific experience.  

In April or May following the crash, I can’t recall exact events now but it was when my mom was wanting me to console her for Colum dying & I wouldn’t, (it should’ve been the other way around, right?).  It upset her, &/or I stood up for myself & the usual thing happened in result.  The usual thing my Mother Dearest usually did was get all of my siblings, or as many as she could to rally against the enemy, which was me...I was STILL USING A WALKER so her desire to be the bigger victim was a hard fight & she could only round up my one older sister, the one who abused me my whole childhood, yup, that one.  They are really there for each other, two peas in a pod really.  

My sister sent me a text message stating: “Bad things happen to everybody, & you need to get over it.”  (She’s talking about the car accident I was in less that 5 months prior).

I responded: “Fuck you”, & no I don’t speak to my family that way.

My entire childhood my mantra with my evil sister was: “I can’t wait to be a grown-up so I don’t ever have to see you again”.  I’d tell myself these words over & over again.  I realized on that day that I was now a grownup & this person, although she’s biologically related to me, has no place in my life.  I’m done.

But strangely she mentioned an incident to me at my Mother Dearests Birthday party a couple years ago.  She told me she wanted to apologize for that time when I was sleeping innocently one night when we were in high school & she just came in my bedroom & punched me as hard as she could in my stomach.  She asked if there was any damage.  I listened to her in disbelief as she described details of my parents even calling the police on her.   ...how do I not remember any of this!?!  She kept mentioning that this one is one she still feels bad about.  None of it sounded even the tiniest bit familiar to me.  And this person has borderline, never apologizes for anything cause, duh, she’s never wrong.  She mentioned that she’s pretty sure that this is when she was on the drug Phen-Fen & how it was the medications fault ‘cause it made her crazy, (aw, this is her motive).  

I actually remember her on Phen-Phen & I don’t recall a change in her behaviors except that was really happy.  The happiest I’d ever seen her actually.  She’d lost some weight & her confidence immediately skyrocketed.  I think she wanted me to know that all her bad behaviors were all to blame on the Phenomenal side effects of a dangerous diet pill.  But what about all the other times I wonder what her excuse was🤔🧐?

 I’m just like those people I’ve always been strangely fascinated by.  But it’s daunting not knowing what else my own mind is hiding from itself.  Or is it? Is it ok to have a plethora of tiny vaults holding twisted memories of abuse, stashed away in your brain & soul?  Truthfully, I am just happy to not be stuck in a basement with her anymore, with a conjoined bathroom between us. When I text my parents horrible things (after thanksgiving), I told them that “when they get to hell, to tell them you want my old room in the basement.”  

The hardest part for me is that my parents hardly ever protected me from her.  They were too busy thinking they were the only ones with feelings. No one will ever understand what it was like in that basement except for maybe her ex-husbands.  

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