We pay our toll

I am a bit sad tonight. Sad because I had to make a decision that I didn't agree with, or like. While it was happening a large part of my mind was saying fuck that, that isn't fair…, I shouldn't have to do this. I don’t have to do it, no I don’t have to, but I chose to do it because it was the right thing to do. Everyone deserves to be treated with humanity and respect.

Last night I got to think about some things that I haven’t thought about in a long time…I got to think about the time in my life when my sister finally escaped from the abuse and fear that we called home. We lived in Idaho with my mom and step dad. Our house was on the corner of 11^th and Dewey, just a block from the high school.  

Just before she moved away there was a fairly bad episode between my mom and my sis. At one point while my mom was attacking her, my sister hit back. At that point my mom fled the room and screamed at my step dad “she fucking hit me, sick her Doug, sick her.” At that point my memory gets a little fuzzy. I think I cowered in my bed wishing it would end, and fearing that it would come in my room; and hating myself for not being able to do anything to stop it. I always had that shame, I couldn't stop it…I was scared, and I couldn't stop it, and so I hid.

And I hated myself for still loving my mom. I remember praying that they both would get in an accident on their way home from work, my mom and step dad, and that I would feel safe. I cried myself to sleep that night because who wishes their parents would die instead of come home, what a horrible person I felt I was.  

My father lived in Oregon. Oregon was the promise land. The grass was green, there were trees everywhere, and it was safe. We went there for the summer and my sister begged him to let her stay. So he filed paperwork to gain custody of my sister. The attorney took a deposition from her detailing all the abuse she was suffering.

I was asked if I wanted to live with Dad, and I did…but I was afraid, was still cowering on my bed in my mind. I was a child asked to make an adult decision. I was afraid to tell the truth. My secrets kept me safe…we don’t talk about what happens at home. And to this day the one thought that has shamed me the most was that maybe mom and Doug would treat me better. Maybe they will learn from losing my sister that they couldn’t treat me that way.

So I went home, back to Idaho. For a week all I heard was how horrible my sister was. How big a fucking liar she was, and how dare she do this to them. I cowered inside; there was nothing I could do about it. They were still abusing her and she wasn’t even there. Then they started hitting me more often. But the worst thing was the yelling, and screaming, and name calling…

Growing into adulthood I had much shame. Shame for not being able to tell my dad that they were hurting me too. Shame for not stopping them from hurting my sister. Shame for loving them. Shame for hating them.  most of all I had shame for hoping that by my sister leaving I would get a mother and step father that cared for me, and loved me. I had shame for not being able to make adult decisions as a child. I had no choice, I was a child.

So, today when I was confronted with an adult decision I responded as an adult. No longer will I make decisions from that bed that I cowered in. There isn’t enough liquor in the world to make those kinds of decisions ok, there never was I just didn’t know that.

Jenny I am sorry for being mad at you for being able to escape.

This War

To end all

We pay our toll

In blood we pay

For you

And you

And you

We pay

That you may never have to

See what we see

Feel that which we have felt

Know this

For in blood do we pay

For you never to have this experience

This

This

War

Chris McQueeney    11/11/12    9:29 P.M.

P.S.  If you are reading this I would like you to know that I have appreciated your friendship, and also your input. I hope you continue to read my work…