#(hitting me like a truck suddenly remembering i have this blog. speeding through all 12 km challenge levels to unlock it fast as possible)

[skull-storm-daily]

1/9/2024 (high cost deck)

[bandbacktogether]

A Letter I Can't Send: Edge Of Crazy: Lesson #12

New Post has been published on https://www.bandbacktogether.com/posts/abuse-child-grows-up/

A Letter I Can't Send: Edge Of Crazy: Lesson #12

my dad was, and still is, a serious control freak. he wants everything to go his way, all the time, forever. His need to control + my rebellious streak – any display of love or affection = a seriously fucked up child.

dad,

i’d love to write this on my regular blog, but it would upset the people who know me (and we both know that i shouldn’t upset others, right?), so i’m writing it on the down-low. anyway, this is more for me than for you, because you would never admit to fucking up. mom has put up with a lot of shit to stay married to you for 44 years, but i don’t feel sorry for her because we both know she loves to play the martyr. you two are a textbook case of how not to raise a daughter, and i’ll get to mom in another blog. this one’s for you-

i know that you and mom “had” to get married. i know that you weren’t thrilled about it. i also know that you really wanted a son, but you got me instead. while i made do with the john deere tractor and matching wagon, you and i both know i really wanted the barbie corvette. so barbie and her friends went on lots of hayrides, no biggie. because i loved you.

lesson #1- be happy with whatever i get and don’t be disappointed; any affection i may receive depends on this.

we had fun when i was little. we played football with pillows in the trailer that i grew up in, you pretended to be a horse so i could ride on your back. except you always bucked me off, every time. you’d hide in the bathroom down the narrow hall and call to me and when i came to you, you’d jump out of the dark and scare me. i hated that game, and tried to refuse, but mom would insist i go every time. when mom called that dinner was ready, you’d always hold me back and say that i didn’t get to eat. even though i knew it was a game, i didn’t like it. now that i think about it, your sense of humor was somewhat sadistic. but i didn’t see it that way at the time. because i loved you.

lesson #2 – play along, even when i don’t want to.

when i was small, and did something wrong, you whipped me. you had that fucking collection of belts and always made me pick one. i took a long time choosing, hoping you would change your mind, but you never did. i always chose the red, white, and blue one, because if i had to get whipped, it should be with a pretty belt. and it wasn’t just one or two times. no, you beat my ass. and bare legs. and back. and arms.

i stole some of your coin collection to use in the gum ball machine at the trailer court. it was only a couple of wheat pennies and a dime, but you found me at the gum ball machine and my heart got stuck in my throat. you had a wire coat hanger in your right hand and it was summer and i was wearing shorts. you beat me with that wire hanger all the way to the trailer and that was a long way and i couldn’t run fast because i was only 4. and still, i loved you.

and that time you got mad ’cause mom made chili in july. i was still in a highchair, even though i was 3. i dumped my chili onto the metal tray and you swore at me for wasting food. you grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me out of the highchair. my legs got all cut up because you didn’t take the tray off first. then you threw me on the floor of the living room, and that’s how my favorite top got ripped. then you grabbed a belt from your collection and started beating me and you wouldn’t stop. mom finally pulled you away and threw you out. she let you come back, though. because she needed you more than she loved me. i asked mom to fix my top, but she threw it away instead.

lesson #3 – i am bad, and being hurt by someone i love is acceptable. in fact, i should expect it. i need to learn the art of survival, nobody else is going to protect me.

you have never told me you loved me. never. not once. you have never told me you are proud of me. not ever. not when i graduated from college, or grad school, or got straight a’s, or stuck with my crappy marriage for so long, or left said crappy marriage when it was time. i craved your approval like an addict craves that next hit off the pipe, knowing it will never be enough. and i chased after your approval the way a child chases their shadow, knowing that they will never catch it but always hoping against hope that this time might be different. and i never hated you for it. instead, i hated myself for not being enough.

lesson #4 – it’s not you. it’s me. and it will always be me, even when it’s you.

you had a girlfriend on the side, beginning when i was 5, and ending around the time i went away to college. i know this because i rode the bus with her son in high school. he told me all about how you’d come over on christmas day when he was little. i always wondered why you left after we’d opened presents. you were going to your other family. the one with two boys.

remember that time when i was a senior in high school and my friend viki and i saw your truck at your girlfriend’s house? i rang the doorbell and asked your girlfriend if you were there and i told her who i was. after viki and i drove away, we hid in a driveway and watched you speed past us in your truck, racing towards home. and we laughed because we knew you couldn’t touch me. not unless you wanted to tell mom what you were so pissed about.

mom still doesn’t know about that time i called your girlfriend at work and called her a whore and a bitch and demanded that army picture of you back. the one that mom kept asking about and you kept telling her that you’d left it in your locker at work. only it wasn’t in your locker, was it? it was on your girlfriend’s tv, because her son told me. you brought the picture home that night. that’s when you stopped looking me in the eye and started hating me. because you’d been caught by your daughter. and i began to hate you right back.

and when you suddenly decided not to pay for grad school, i became a stripper to pay for it myself. because i had learned the art of survival.

lesson #5 – i have nothing to lose and it feels good to be a bitch.

you stopped hugging me when i turned 10, and i’m pretty sure it had something to do with my going through puberty. especially when you went on a trip and brought me back that cleveland browns sweatshirt, threw it in my general direction while averting your eyes and said, “here, this will cover up your bumps.” nice way to encourage a young girl to have pride in her body. so i started covering up my bumps, all the time. when i was in my late 20’s, i got rid of my bumps altogether by developing anorexia. then i had to cover up my bones. i began to loathe myself.

lesson #6 – my body is sexual, and sexuality is bad.

the only birthday of mine that you ever came to was when i turned 5. i still remember it because that’s the birthday i got my first barbie. you took her away and wouldn’t give her back. you thought that was funny and i played along so you would stay. to this day, i occasionally find myself playing along, for fear of being abandoned or pissing someone off. when i was 17, you never came to my high school graduation. i know this because when i got home after the ceremony, the ticket i’d left for you on the kitchen table was still there. you were still pissed about me finding you at your girlfriend’s two months prior, and calling her at her job. because i’d stopped playing along.

lesson #7 – when i stop playing along, you will hate me.

in high school, you started to have me followed, instead of sitting me down and asking me about what was going on in my life, you got kids from the trailer court to tell you shit about me, a full $5 for each bit of information. that’s how you found out i smoked, drank, got high, and had a black best friend. you even sent two guys on my fucking spring break trip to daytona beach. i know this because on the last night, we all got drunk together and they told me. then they proceeded to tell me your name, my full name, where i lived and what you wanted to know. i wasn’t even safe from you 1,000 miles away.

can i just tell you how fucked up that is? that is seriously fucked up. i was the most paranoid teenager i knew, even without the pot.

you made me stop being friends with kim, you beat my ass when you found out i smoked and you grounded me for three months for drinking. fuck you. i started getting high with my dealer’s 16-year-old wife before school, i went through the bottle of vodka you had hidden in your cupboard, filling it with water instead. that’s right dad, the more you tightened the screws, the more i fucked up. i went to school drunk every day, or high, or both. i hid beers in my bedroom and drank them when you were asleep. i smoked in the bathroom after you and mom left for work. i feared getting caught, but the rush was incredible.

lesson #8 – my father is out to get me, and he will always find me.

you wouldn’t let me date the same guy twice, because you didn’t want me to get pregnant, the way mom did. you wanted me to get an education and be someone. or something. not for my sake, but so that you could say you had a college-educated child. and i was so terrified of getting pregnant that i didn’t had sex until i was 19. and then i slept with every guy i wanted to when i went away to college. because i could, and you had never taught me to respect my body. you had only taught me to get away with whatever i could. i never enjoyed the sex, but being sneaky felt awesome.

lesson #9 – sex is about power and revenge.

when i was in my final year of grad school, i met my future husband, only i didn’t know it at the time. i was smart and i knew about birth control. but when you should have taught me confidence, i learned fear. where self-esteem should have been, there was an empty well, waiting to be filled by someone else’s ideas and beliefs. fear of abandonment took the place of knowing my own worth. standing my ground was replaced by an aching need to please, at any cost. so when my future husband said “no rubbers, please” i said “ok”. because i needed to be loved, and i was afraid of losing him.

lesson #10 – do whatever i have to do make other people happy. my thoughts and feelings don’t count and should be kept to myself. they will only make others stop loving me.

and then i got pregnant. your biggest fear. and because you were my biggest fear, and because i didn’t believe in myself, and because my boyfriend didn’t want a baby and because i didn’t want to be abandoned, i had an abortion. then the self-hatred really kicked in.

lesson #11 – all decisions should be based on fear.

it has taken me 20+ years to undo what you did to me. everyday i untangle a bit more of the knot, trying to smooth out the yarn. it’s still good yarn, and everyday i knit myself.

lesson #12 – you made me stronger, smarter, tougher and braver. so fuck you.

[briannacarrasco-blog1]

3 Prompt Story

The girl with curly brown hair down to her lower back collected her belongings in her tiny, bejeweled handbag. The girl’s pale cheeks were flushed pink and a thin sheen of sweat beaded her upper lip. While looking at her reflection in the mirror of the dimly lit washroom, Madison thought about how annoyed she was that she had wasted her good outfit–a short jean shirt and a bubblegum pink tank top–on a horrible date like this.

Sam was nice and all, but all he talked about during dinner was his pet cat, Legolas, and his obsession with The Lord of the Rings–two things that Madison did not care about. She was more of a Keeping Up with the Kardashians type of girl, and she hated animals. After dinner, Sam suggested going back to his house to “Netflix and chill,” which Madison thought was a great idea, knowing that “Netflix and chill" didn’t really mean watching Netflix at all. Well, at least to her. But when they arrived at Sam’s house, he opened Netflix on his XBOX and said “Most people like to watch The Hobbit first, since it’s the prequel, but we’ll start with The Lord of the Rings. You’re going to love it.”

But she didn’t, which is why she was in his washroom trying to find ways to escape before he started teaching her the languages of Middle Earth.

With her tiny purse filled with makeup, her phone, and credit card in one shaking hand, Madison used the other hand to budge open the stiff bathroom window above the toilet, which opened to the back of Sam’s one story bungalow.

The window opened to the ice-cold wind and Madison cursed herself for deciding to wear a tank top in Canada’s bone-chilling winter. Madison glanced up at the half moon clouded with dark grey fog and once again she wondered how she got into this situation.

“Did you make it out!?” Madison’s iPhone buzzed with a text message from her best friend, Katy.

“I’m at the back window right now. I can’t wait to escape this awful date.” Madison’s finger quickly leaped over the keyboard. Then she added, “I think he writes Gollum/reader fanfiction.”

“Oh, God.” Katy wrote back. “I’m parked down the street in my Jeep. See you there in 10.”

“Madison, are you coming back?” Sam called from his place on the living room sofa. “You’re missing the best part!”

No. I’m not coming back. Madison thought as she stuck one leg out of the bathroom window. And I never will.

While Madison was trying to figure out how to get her other leg out of the window without exposing her underwear, Michael was on the other side of town, crying over the death of his wife.

He sat in the rocking chair that he and his wife had owned for 50 years, the moonlight pouring in through the window behind him. Tears rolled silently down his cheeks as he remembered his wife, Angela, sitting in this same rocking chair 35 years ago, nursing their daughter Elizabeth. He would do anything to go back to that moment, to see Angela alive again. And just a month ago, before the cancer infected her fragile body, she was.

Michael thought of all the nasty curse words he would yell at cancer if it had a physical form, but that didn’t make things better. Every day since Angela’s death, he had shed tears that wet the sagging dark brown skin on his aging face. He was waiting for it to get better, for the pain to suddenly disappear, but so far it hadn’t.

Instead, he would stare at their wedding picture for hours on end, and imagined a time when Angela was filled with life.

Suddenly, Michael’s home phone rang, snapping him out of his daze. He reached over the coffee table and picked it up, whispering a tired “Hello?” into the microphone.

“Dad!” said the voice of Elizabeth, breathy and high-pitched. “It’s time. We’re going to the hospital. My water just broke.”

Michael jumped out of his chair, his heart rate accelerating. “Oh my god. The baby’s coming? But it’s too early.”

“I know!” Elizabeth said. “But it’s definitely coming. I’m in the early stages of labour, but Tom’s driving me to the hospital.”

Instantly the tears on Michael’s face dried. “I’ll meet you right there.” He told her. After setting down the phone in a hurry, Michael threw on a long grey coat over the pajamas he had been wearing for the last two weeks and fumbled to find the keys to his car. The thought of his only daughter about to bring life into the world lingered in his mind. He thought of the grand child he would soon get to meet.

“I wish you could be here to see this, Angela.” Michael whispered to the dark night sky above him.

While Michael hurriedly got into his car, Christine was in the house next door, planning the murder of her husband.

Except Mark was really her ex-husband. And she wasn’t actually planning his murder. But sometimes she got so angry at him that that the thoughts of him getting run over by a car, or accidentally falling off his third-floor balcony didn’t seem so bad.

Christine sat perched on her front porch and watched her next door neighbor speed off down the street lit by streetlamps in his BMW. He drove fast for such an old man.

On her lap sat her laptop, opened to the Facebook page of a girl named Violetta Williams. Williams was also Christine’s last name, because she still hadn’t returned to her maiden name after her husband left her two years ago for a younger, prettier woman named Violetta. Violetta was fresh out of law school, had a blog dedicated to vegan recipes, and went to a yoga class before work every morning. Christine found all that out by snooping on Violetta’s Facebook page at least once a day.

Now, right in front of Christine’s eyes was a picture of Violetta and Mark. Mark was standing behind Violetta with his arms wrapped around her, picture-perfect smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“Mark and I are so happy to announce I am 12 weeks pregnant. We are so excited to be welcoming a new life into the world. Thank you for all the positive messages! Don’t forget to check out my blog for my most recent post: YOGA POSES FOR WHEN YOU���RE EXPECTING.”

Christine couldn’t stop looking at the picture. She had been staring at it for hours, and kept on noticing different things, like how on Violetta’s left hand, the diamond on her wedding ring was bigger than Christine’s was, or even though she was pregnant, she was still glowing and stunningly beautiful.

Christine wished that she could be pregnant.

But mostly, she wished that she could talk to Mark. And ask him; why? And how? How could he do this to her? How could he promise to be with her through sickness and in health, and then run from her once they found out she was unable to have children? And how could he have married Violetta, the girl from the gym who he always promised was “just a friend?” And now, how could he have gotten her pregnant? How could Violetta have a little mini Mark in her belly, when it should have been Christine?

She had to see Mark. She knew he worked afternoon shifts at the hospital. But as an obstetrician, his hours were pretty unpredictable.

She had made her choice. She stuffed the laptop into her book bag and headed to her car, throwing the bag in the passenger seat and angrily stuffing the key into the ignition.

She had to know why.

At first, the contractions weren’t so bad. Elizabeth had constantly found herself thinking, This is it? Childbirth is going to be easy. But as time wore on, the contractions were getting painful and more frequent, and the six inches of snow on the ground were not helping them to get to the hospital quickly and efficiently. Tom was caught between cursing out the other drivers on the road, and asking sweetly if Elizabeth was doing okay.

Yeah, Elizabeth was freaking out just a little. But, she started freaking out a lot when the car stopped moving.

“Oh, shit.” Tom said.

“What?” Elizabeth asked, thinking Tom’s foot was just on the break.

“We’re out of gas.”

“Funny.” Elizabeth responded, squeezing her eyes shut and taking deep breaths as a contraction passed. Cars began to honk behind them.

“No. I’m serious. We ran out of gas.” Tom said.

“What… What are we going to do? We need to be at the hospital right now!”

When Tom put his hazards on, Elizabeth knew that this was serious.

“Look, I’ll call an ambulance. We’ll call a tow truck to take the car. We’ll–”

Suddenly, and indescribable sensation in Elizabeth’s lower stomach caused her to jump so high she almost hit the roof of the car. “I need to get out.” she said, and leaped out of the car, ripping her seatbelt off.

“What are you doing!?” Tom yelled, getting out of his side of the car, ignoring the protests of angry drivers around him.

“I feel like the baby is coming.” She was taking deep breaths and still felt overwhelmingly hot even though it was starting to snow outside. “I don’t know. I just feel this pressure—” Elizabeth hunched over in pain and leaned against the car, her warm forehead against the cool metal of the car.

“Oh my god. I don’t know, I don’t know–” Tom stuttered.

“Are you two okay?” Yelled a high-pitched voice from behind them. Parked behind their car was a bright yellow Jeep, with two young girls probably in their late 20s sitting in the front seats.

“We’re fine!” Tom yelled back at the same time that Elizabeth said, “No! I’m in labour!”

“We’re out of gas!” Tom admitted, the harsh wind and snow blurring his vision.

“Come on! Get in!” yelled the girl from the passenger seat. “You need to get to the hospital.”

Tom frantically nodded his head of curly blonde hair and held Elizabeth’s dark brown hand as he led her to the backseat of the Jeep.

“I think I’m crowning.” Elizabeth cried out.

“What does crowning mean?” Tom asked.

The two girls at the front shared a nervous glance. The girl in the passenger’s seat with a short jean skirt and tank top spoke up. “It means we need to get to the hospital immediately.”

When Madison, Katy, Elizabeth, and Tom arrived at Holy Cross Medical Centre, Madison and Katy carried Tom and Elizabeth’s belongings, while Tom half-carried Elizabeth in his arm and yelled for a nurse.

A team of women in white smocks sat Elizabeth down into a shiny black wheelchair and wheeled her off in the direction of the delivery room, the rest of the group trailing behind.

“Her obstetrician is Dr. Mark Williams.” Tom told the nurse. “We scheduled for him to be here for the delivery.”

As they entered the birthing centre of the hospital, a hunched over black man in pajamas and a long grey coat was pacing the hallway. His eyes lit up with joy with he saw them, and then his eyebrows furrowed when he saw the pain and discomfort on his daughter’s face.

“Why were you two so late?” He quickly embraced Elizabeth in a hug before she was taken to the delivery room. “And who are these two girls?” He whispered to Tom.

In a rushed manner, Tom introduced the man as Michael, his father-in-law, and introduced the two girls as Katy and Madison, the ones who picked up Tom and Elizabeth off the side of the road when their car broke down. He assured Michael that the girls were nice and polite, and then rushed into the delivery room after Elizabeth.

“The next time you’ll see me, I’ll be a dad!” Tom squealed with a glimmer of joy and happiness in his eyes before he left.

Michael sat down on one of the sleek metal chairs in the waiting room and Katy and Madison, feeling like they were now part of this unborn baby’s life, sat down beside him and waited for what was to come.

Madison never thought she would find herself in a situation where Katy would ask her “Um, isn’t that the Legolas-obsessed man whose window you just jumped out of?” But, that is exactly what Katy said after waiting in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs for about half an hour. Madison glanced up and noticed Sam, still in his black jeans and button-down light blue shirt, his tan skin was flushed and his blond hair was wild.

“What is he doing here!?” Madison whisper-yelled to Katy, who shrugged.

Sam scanned the waiting room before his eyes landed on Michael. He flashed his bright white teeth and strided over. “How’s Tom and Liz?” he asked Michael. Katy listened to this unbelievable conversation while Madison attempted to shield herself behind an issue of Vogue.

“Oh, they got Elizabeth in just in time to deliver.” Michael explained. “You’re brother was a little freaked out, but you can tell he’s so excited to be a dad.”

Madison’s jaw dropped open wide and she couldn’t conceal her surprise. She gave Katy a look that clearly said, Oh. My. God. This is Tom’s brother!?  

“Me and these young girls have been waiting for the news that we can go see the baby. You will never believe what happened to Tom and Liz on the way here.” Michael added.

Confused about who Michael was referring to, Sam turned around to take a look at the two young girls. One of the girls had tanned skin and black hair and was dressed down in grey track pants and an I LOVE PUERTO RICO shirt. The girl beside her had a familiar head of curly hair, and wore a short denim skirt and a pink tank top that he had been so attracted to hours earlier.

“Madison?” Sam asked, his voice a mixture of surprise and anger.

“Uh-huh.” was all Madison could manage to say back.

“What the hell?”

“Do you two know each other?” Michael asked, mouth twisted down in a confused frown.

“No.” Sam and Madison responded at the same time. Sam sat in the unoccupied chair beside Madison.

“How about we pretend nothing ever happened?” He suggested, a pained look on his face.

“Sure.” Madison agreed. “For the sake of the baby.”

“Of course.” Sam responded.

The four of them sat in the waiting room in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before a tall lady with bright red hair and a book bag strapped across her chest bolted into the waiting room.

“Where’s Dr. Mark Williams. I need to speak to Dr. Mark Williams!” she cried, her eyes red and bloodshot, and her gaze frantic.

“Dr. Williams is delivering a baby right now.” said a petite woman at the front desk. “We can leave a message for him if you’d like–”

All off a sudden the red-haired woman burst into tears and plopped herself down on one of the waiting room chairs. “You know what I would like?” she cried out. Madison and Katy eyed each other, half scared and half intrigued by this woman. “I want my husband back! I want this damn woman out of my life for good! I want a husband who won’t leave me after finding out that I can’t have kids! I want my old life back!”

As a person who usually says the wrong thing at the wrong time, Madison asked, “Your husband left you because you’re infertile?”

In response, the redhead, Christine, started sobbing harder. She placed her head in her hands as her shoulders violently shook, letting out the wracking sobs she had inside of her.

“What an asshole.” Katy commented.

“You know,” Sam started, his voice soft and hopeful. “You’re going to find a man who doesn’t care if you can’t have children. And he’ll stick around and he’ll be open to other options, like adoption or surrogacy or–”

“Like who!?” Christine cried, snapping her head up to glare at Sam. “Name one guy who doesn’t care about having kids.”

“Uh, me.” Sam said softly. “I mean, I’ve never really been into the idea of children that much. And I was adopted into such a wonderful family. I always thought that, I don’t know, if I ever was going to have children, I would adopt children who are in need of a better home.”

Madison was stunned that she had assumed that this man had anything else to his personality other than a Lord of the Rings obsession. A little bit unsure, Sam stood up and crossed the waiting room to sit in the chair beside Christine. He awkwardly put his arm around her shoulder, and he could instantly tell that this small gesture had made her feel a lot better.

At that moment, Dr. Mark Williams came to the waiting room and almost looked like he had a heart-attack when he saw his crying ex-wife in the waiting room.

“Christine!?” Mark cried. He shook his head as if clearing an unwanted thought from his brain. “Uh… Elizabeth has successfully given birth to a baby girl. She’s being allowed visitors for a few minutes before you will have to return for visiting hours tomorrow. She’s extremely tired, so go easy on her. She’s a tough girl.” Mark announced.

“Wooo!” Michael cheered, as he pushed himself out of the chair. Together, Katy, Madison, Sam, Christine, Michael, and Mark entered the cramped delivery room and all made sounds of awe as they saw Elizabeth on a skinny hospital bed, a tiny, blotchy baby in her arms.

“My beautiful granddaughter!” Michael squealed and rushed to Elizabeth’s side. He used a finger to brush the baby girl’s soft cheek and the baby made a quiet cooing noise that made his heart swell with happiness.

“She’s so beautiful.” Sam commented, and everyone nodded in agreement, fighting to get the best view of the newborn baby. They stood in silence, smiles plastered on their faces. Some had known each other for a lifetime and others had known each other for merely a few minutes, but they all had one thing in common–they were absolutely in love with this baby girl in Elizabeth’s arms.

“What’s her name?” Michael whispered, as if scared that speaking too loud would harm the baby. Tom and Elizabeth looked at each other smiled.

“Angela Isabella.” Liz announced. “Isabella after Tom’s mother. And Angela. After mom.”

Michael clutched Elizabeth’s shoulder with one of his hands as tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to pour out of him.

“That is just beautiful.” Michael decided.

“Hi Angela!” Madison said to the baby and giggled. Elizabeth looked up from her newborn’s baby face and glanced at the people around her. In the far corner was the doctor who helped her bring this baby into the world. There was Christine, who was now clutching Sam’s hand almost unconsciously, and Madison and Katy who were both in the wrong clothes for this type of weather, but had helped her get to the hospital safely nonetheless. To her right was her husband Tom, who she loved more and more for helping her to create this wonderful human being, and to her left was her father, Michael, who, with her deceased mom, allowed her to have the best possible life.

In a room full of lovers, and ex-lovers, and best friends, and family, Elizabeth thought that there was no one else she would want with her in a hospital delivery room during a snowstorm.