A “Once Upon A Time” Story
I have a story to tell. A question came to mind the other day and after pondering it an answer arose. Here is my story.
Caution is given, this could be a trigger from some.
Once upon a time… This works with all stories, it tells the reader that once things were different, there was a beginning. It does not say there is an end. Because it never ends.
Once upon a time, a little girl was dressed in frills and lace dresses. Her black patent leather shoes had a shine so bright you had to wear sunglasses to look at them. Her dress had puffy short sleeves with a ruffle of lace. She would spin and the skirt would fan out around her. It was fun to spin and watch the material fan out. She would pretend to dance and spin just to watch her dress fan out around her waist. She had a Barbie doll with a full wardrobe, including a wedding dress. Playing on the porch she would pretend Barbie was going to church and getting married. It was fun to play with Barbie.
Then one day while her mother was out shopping, her mother’s new husband said he wanted to show her something. That it was a secret. He showed her things he said grown-ups do. He told her it was their secret. He said it was important to keep that secret because bad things would happen to her if she told anyone.
She kept those secrets. She no longer played make believe with her Barbie doll the way she used to. Instead, Barbie was always getting hurt, her fingers and toes were removed, she pulled her hair out in patches, and she made marks on Barbie’s body.
As the little girl grew up, she developed a relationship with Fear who later introduced her to Anger and Hate. The three of them promised to protect her. Anger and Hate were available more than Fear. Fear would visit once in a while when he had something to share with her. But Anger and Hate would show up and drive Fear away. The relationship with Anger and Hate grew stronger every year, always reminding her there was no one she could trust but them. Reminding her that no one would love her, care for her, or protect her the way they could.
Anger became her only companion after years of living with Hate and Anger, Hate was the fuel for Anger. He devoured Fear, then Hate, using it to keep the girl prisoner as she grew into a woman. But there were times when Anger blinded her to the truth, he needed to keep her blind and deaf to the world around her. Without her Anger could not survive. Without allowing Fear and Hate to visit once in a while Anger would have no food to survive.
Anger, Hate, Fear know how to speak, how to make a lie sound like truth. Anger is the greatest liar of all. Anger knows how to spin the web of deceit with the finest threads available. The web is so attractive, strong, and resilient, making the perfect prison for the girl.
The web was not comfortable, hard and rigid, the threads dug into the girl’s skin and never left a trace. She smiled and laughed, but one could look into her eyes and see there was no love there. When she would question Fear would whisper quietly and show her movies of times when she dared to live outside of the web. Reminding her of the pain, the beatings, the assaults on her. She would turn to Anger again and thank him for taking care of her.
Tears would drop down her cheeks, then dry, leaving a small spot that soon washed away. No trace of pain or sorrow, but there was no trace of love either. She longed to find Love, to meet her and embrace her. So, she kept questioning. Each year as she grew stronger in her quest to find Love, she began to understand the lies Anger spun for her. That the web was not made of thread so strong it could not be broken. She continued her questions, Fear’s voice soon became a small whisper, “Be careful.” She agreed, care is necessary, but the movies Fear played for her were the past, not the future.
The years fell away, children grew up and moved on. They began their own families. But they embraced Anger, Hate, Fear. Now Anger has new homes with her children and their children. A sordid gift passed on to the next generation.
Hate is the basis for Anger, fed by Fear. They are a trio of emotions that tell great stories.
The Story Continues
The final lesson is to learn to listen to hate, anger, fear, learn their story, hear their cries and understand they can help in recovery. I learned to have a dialogue with those emotions. The alternative caused me too many nightmares, pain and anguish.
No matter how hard I tried, drugs, alcohol, food, high risk behaviors, nothing squelched those emotions and the nightmares they played for me.
Because of my life experiences I am the woman I am today. I know no regrets. Save one, I could not have been a better mother for my children.
Recovery is never ending, a progression in life, much like any other path we take. As I take the next step I am reminded of how far I have traveled. This story has sat in my digital file for 10 years. I have taken it out, read it and put it away. I have kept the secret long enough.
May those who read find the healing has been a companion for some time now. It has been for me. The anguish is no longer intolerable, it is a whisper of the wounds I carried for so long.
Blessings and grace be yours in this day and into the next.