Almost daily diary!

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

The phone call. Part 1

I really don't know where to start with this story, though it isn't actually a story at all, not in the fictional sense anyway. Do I start with the telephone conversation tonight, or what happened to me when I was 13 years old? Tall Girls age.

Wherever I start, however I write it, it will be long and I won't be able to write it all at once, not here, not in it's entirety. Yet perhaps sometimes things are better left unsaid, undone, as they have been for so long. But then again, they have a habit of coming back to haunt you in later life, many times, as they have done tonight. Maybe now, this is the last time it can hurt me.

And then again this story is about the truth, how it has been hidden, how deception and sweeping under the carpet, can lead to a life time of questions, now answered in just one little telephone conversation. One small, innocent call, made on a whim. A call in which I expected to discuss mundane everyday acts, the children, the day passed and the day yet to come. But we didn’t discuss those things. That call, innocently made, suddenly changed my view of my world. I can see so much more clearly now.

However the reality is harsh, though I knew the truth all along. I never thought though, that the truth would finally be revealed. The deception was so good, so long lasting, that I almost thought it was real. But now, at long last, I know where I am, which is pretty much alone, but stronger for it. Perhaps I should start at the beginning..........

I have never had an easy relationship with my step father. I think I have mentioned it before. I can’t remember warming to him, even when we first met, but I can remember not trusting him, right from the start. There was a sense of unease at the beginning, even without any justification for that feeling.

When I was 12 years old he formally adopted me.

I took his name.

I became his.

During the adoption process, I can remember talking to, who I can only think now must have been, a social worker about the whole idea of being adopted. Even in those days ‘They’, the authorities, kept the child in mind. I can remember someone asking if I agreed to all the arrangements, if I actually wanted to be adopted. I said I did.

Can you believe that? I said I wanted to be adopted even though, with all my being, I knew it was the last thing I really wanted to happen. And do you know why I agreed to it? Because I knew it would please my mother, I knew that that was what she wanted. I agreed and I was adopted. And that was that.

I think I knew what the future held even then. To go into details here would be wrong, difficult to write and totally unnecessary. Suffice to say that, in true stepfather style, he stepped over the decent limit of what is natural and good. I stopped him, it wasn't that bad but it happened and consequently I was caught, we were both caught, in a web of lies and blackmail that has lasted all this time. Until tonight. Tonight I finally found out where I stand with him and my mother knows so much more. I am worried for her. I should not have told.

I'm not sure this makes sense, but I will write more another time.


15 comments:

Fi from Four Paws and Whiskers said...

How brave... how cathartic.
Sadly, this situation is not unusual. I am amazed what families got through, ensure, tolerate and forgive.
May you find peace in the truth and acceptance of what cannot be undone.

Steve said...

When the truth emerges it always hurts and nothing is ever the same. But the latter is invariably a good thing once you've got used to the idea. And the pain? Well, it's the kind of pain that can be dealt with rather then the pain of deceit which lingers on and on and is never addressed. Good luck. Be strong.

Maggie May said...

You have said something that should have been said years ago.It is never too late.
One thing that comes out of all this though is how much you have loved your mother. Another thing is how ridiculous that Social Services had to ask a child that way. An interview and careful questioning or writing a story or play, could have revealed how you really felt.

Well done for opening up. It must be a release.I hope your Mum understands how you have felt all these years. I think talking to her privately is a must. Hope it all works out for everyone.

Carol said...

I agree with Steve, it's always better to have the truth out in the open...no matter how painful!! If it's hidden under layers of lies and pretence then there is never the chance to talk and to heal!!

{{{{hugs}}}}

C x

nick said...

I can only agree with the others that it's generally better to have things out in the open than to spin an endless web of deception that can make you feel much worse. Funny how often an irrational sense of unease can have a very solid basis. The unconscious picks up on subtle clues the conscious mind never notices.

Anonymous said...

{{{{Suburbia}}}}} x

Jennysmith said...

My poor sweetie, what you have gone through. Its hard enough coping with a new father at that vulnerable age as it is. And to put a young girl in that position of having to agree to be adopted.

You did the right thing, Sub, letting it come out now. Would be far worse if you didnt. Don't feel guilty about your mother, it was you who suffered. xxxx

mumplustwo said...

Writing about it, getting it OUT, will surely help. Have courage. You are amongst friends. x

Furtheron said...

How horrible and difficult. I can't imagine how this has been for you.

Reminds me how lucky I was with my parents and family that none of this touched me until I was an adult and then I found out about something in another branch of the family. That is still a major problem and one I can't really deal with, largely as really it is little do to with me but I see the wreckage around because of it 20 years down the road and that isn't pleasant at all.

I commend you for raising it though, it no doubt needed to come out eventually.

Brett said...

Brave.

Anonymous said...

The same thing happened to me, only it was a very close uncle, the husband of my favourite aunt. Like you, nothing drastic. In those days it was called "child molestation" rather than abuse. Nobody knows except me and him. I was not scarred or damaged by it. I have just hated him with a vengeance and prayed for him to die every day since, even though I am now 57 years old. Sadly at this moment, my beloved aunt is not going to be with us much longer. That means I will never have to see or speak to him again and I feel almost ashamed to admit that even after all this time I wish him a miserable and lonely existence without her.
It is more common than people believe, I think.

Letty - A Little Girl With A Curl said...

yes, writing about these things helps.

Families are full of "secrets and lies'

I will read on now.

take care, Letty x

Maria said...

Well, better late than ever. You're dealing with it now. Good. You had to do it sometime.

DD's Diary said...

So sorry you've had to go through this. It happened to me with my own father and it really seems much more common than anyone wants to believe. Well done you for writing about it - this is the first time I have.

Suburbia said...

I am shocked DD that so many women seem to have gone through the same thing, truly shocked. You are also brave for writing here :) Thank you.