I talked to my Auntie yesterday. We discussed whether or not I want her to talk with my mother about what happened to me at my other Aunt’s house when I was younger. I’m still on the fence about the whole thing but my Auntie thinks it’s time to tell my mother and said that if she can’t handle it well then that’s not my problem.
Then she told me something else that I’m having a bit of a hard time wrapping my head around…
For those of you who don’t know, last fall I was admitted as a Form 3 under Ontario’s Mental Health Act. Basically, that means I wasn’t able to leave the hospital until a psychiatrist said I could. The reason I was form 3’d was because I was going to kill myself and my psychologist had a well person check done on my when I was visiting my Auntie in Thunder Bay. I spent 12 days in the hospital–12 of the longest days of my life. While I was there I told my Auntie some of the things that happened at my Aunt’s house when I was smaller.
Well, here’s the kicker. Apparently last fall after I was hospitalized, my mother asked my Auntie whether or not something happened at my Aunt’s house when I was younger. My Auntie refused to answer that question as I’d sworn her to secrecy but basically told me that my mother already knows what happened.
And I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to feel about all of this. Part of me is really angry at my mother. Because if she had this question last fall, how much longer has she had the suspicion? And if she’s had the suspicion for a long time why has she never said anything to me? And why, after I got home from Thunder Bay and she visited me in the hospital here (they flew me home) did she not say one single thing about it to me at all?
So what does this all mean to me? For the last 10 months she’s been pretending that she knows nothing about what happened but all the while she’s had suspicions and hasn’t said a single thing about it to me. How long has she known? And why would she have never said anything about it? As a mother, don’t you think you’d be sick over the thought that someone hurt one of your children? And don’t you think you’d do everything in your power to figure it out?
She didn’t do any of those things for me. Instead all she told me was that I needed to figure things out for me. Well gee, thanks mom.
Part of me is so angry that I want to punch her in the face. I feel betrayed. Part of me also feels like it doesn’t even matter anymore and who cares if she can’t handle any of it. Because, guess what dear mother, I can barely handle it either most days.
So what now? I’m sort of stuck in this in-between place of not knowing what to do or say. Some days I wake up and I feel strong and powerful but it never lasts. Soon enough that scared, cautious side of me takes over. Don’t trust anyone with your secrets because it’s all going to end badly it says.
I’m feel as though I’m no further ahead than when I was before I talked to my Auntie and I actually feel pretty lost over it all. I really need to talk to T but he feels a million miles away right now too. I can feel myself starting to disappear into my little shell that keeps me safe but cut off from the world. I know it’s not the best place to be but sometimes hiding from the world becomes a super power.