Mommy's Mental Health - Chapter 108 - 16 Days of Activism against Gender-based Violence-Demons
In case you're wondering why I have been airing all my dirty laundry for the last few weeks, I am playing my part and contributing as best I can to the #16DaysOfActivismAgainstGenderBasedViolence initiative by sharing personal and intimate memories with you.
This has, once again, been no easy task and I appreciate those of you who have been supportive and stood by by side either loudly or quietly. I see you. Thank you.
These stories are not designed to hurt the innocent. Even the perpetrators have had the grace of having their names left out: not because I believe you shouldn't be called out, but because I don't have the fight in me for every battle. Each time I recant the stories I feel shame, worthlessness, guilt, fear and regret.
And there are so... So.... Many.
Where were my parents in all this, you may ask?
Well, my Dad, God rest his soul, had tried to redeem himself by moving to Malaysia to earn money in the ostrich trade, of all things, including nursing incubated eggs into full grown ostriches (who are very very stupid). He sent us some BRILLIANTLY WRITTEN and funny emails from that side of the world. I wish I could find them and finally write the book he was planning to. However, he was not there at all as a father. He was not there to discipline or guide me, or protect me from the wolves who came to feast on my body and soul.
My mother was working terrible hours, including night shifts to keep our rent paid, food on the table as well as saving for our immigration to the UK. I don't know how she did it actually. She did end up working herself to the brink of death though. My falling off the rails, horrors, delinquent behavior, drug addiction and eating disorder etc. all contributed to her developing hyperthyroidism. Who knows. Perhaps she would have developed it anyway, but I believe the overwhelming stress brought it on.
I Decided to cut ties with the toxic people in my life and drop out of Westerford, all in one night. I came home stoned as hell and found my mother sobbing on the couch. She just didn't know how to help me. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror for the first time in months. I looked into my eyes and I had no idea who was staring back at me. I was almost unrecognizable and the light was almost completely gone from my eyes. It was horrifying and enough to jar me into these enormous life changing and saving decisions. We went to have me physically checked out and then paid a visit to Kenilworth clinic for treatment of my trauma and addiction.
I knew my mother couldn't afford the 4 week program , so I quit. Cold turkey. In my state it should have sent me into seizures, I was addicted to Mandrax. It was originally designed as a sleeping pill in the 60s, it was discontinued due to horrific side effects including but not limited to - terrible addictive properties, complete or partial loss of mental and bodily functions and blackouts. It was continued to be manufactured on the black market, and still is. We would smoke it crushed up with weed.
It was and still is considered the lowest most embarrassing drug to be addicted to, but at the time, it did the job. It numbed the pain. One would say it did the job a little too well as it allowed me to be taken advantage of when I couldn't say no (not that a 15 year old can legally consent anyway).
The ripple effect of the rape crisis I suffered that year hurt more than just me. It nearly killed my mother too.
There are nights when I still wake up screaming or stuck in sleep paralysis, 25 years later.
I have had therapy for this "dark year" but I think I need a lot more. At the same time I have to realize that I am as healed as I will ever be and the parts that are still broken will just remain pieces of me that I absorb into my being.
I wrote two songs, one when I was 15 and one this year, venting the anger I felt toward my primary perpetrators. The 1st one is called "Demons Lurk." Thank you @jasperdick for getting me to add in the "fuck you" parts towards the end and reminding me that I was allowed to be angry - well angry as fuck.
I will post the 2nd one titled "In My Nightmares" later today or tomorrow.
I used to believe I could not call what happened to me "rape" as there were times where I blacked out and cannot recall saying yes or no. I know when I was sober I said no. My body and body chemistry knew something was horribly wrong: I packed it away so tightly in the dark recesses of my mind to try to forget that year because every time I do, I am down for days with paralyzing fear and feelings of worthlessness and shame.
Thanks for listening 💜
#underagegirlscannotconsent #consentmatters #consent #consenteducation #rape #sexualabuse #CollateralDamage #lifelongtrauma #cptsd
Demons Lurk Lyrics (By Claire Mobeymusic and performed by MobeyDick):
The trees are blue and the sky is green Hey, I'm not as crazy as I may seem The rain falls up and the drugs don't work In my head where the demons lurk
Will you catch me if I fall? Will you want me second hand? Will You? Will You?
I am my own worst enemy And my one trustworthy friend I am the one forgotten rule Nobody wants to bend How can I expect you, to really understand? When all I ever show you, is just a big pretend.
Will you catch me if I fall? Will you want me second hand? Will You? Will You?
The deeper inside my mind I go I get so tired and my footsteps slow I wish I could convince you To stay and set me free But The rain falls up and the drugs don't work In my head where the demons lurk
Will you catch me if I fall? Will you want me second hand? Will you? Will you -oooh? Will you? Will You-ooh? If not fuck you! if not fuck you! Will you catch me if I fall? Will you want me second hand? Will You?