The Lucky Pumpkin

I have been learning a lot about myself and my friends and acquaintances lately on facebook.  One interesting way I have learned about people is by the ads on the right side of the screen.  It will say something like, “Suzie is a fan of Chipoltle,” or “Matt uses this application,” etc.  It is a fun way to connect with and learn about your friends.  I have one friend, (actually a relative, not really a friend, but how do you say no to a friend request from a relative?) who is so into material things.  I keep getting these notices that she is a fan of the latest and hippest restaurants, jeans, jewelry, cars, etc.  I wonder if this is what fills her days, thinking about how she longs for these things?  Don’t get me wrong, I like nice things, too, but I don’t sit around all day and dwell on them!  Then, I get these other notices like, “Alice joined the Down syndrome recreation group,” or “Jody is a fan of the Leukemia society,” or things like that, and I realize that life really isn’t that fair.  Or course, I knew this before, but it is interesting how it is played out right before your eyes on facebook.  My relative who is so shallow, has 2 beautiful, healthy girls, and all she cares about is whether she can get the new Audi that she longs for.  My other friends are worrying about whether their child will fit in at school, or will she be accepted by the other kids, or will she be able to take care of herself when she is an adult?  The shallow one has what many of us want, and she will never realize how blessed she is.

Another funny thing I get are these updates like, “Amy is a fan of bubble-wrap.”  Too funny!  You can really see people’s personalities come out.  I hope that I come across in a favorable light to my facebook friends.  Oh well, take me as I am, flaws and all!  At least I know I am not shallow!

All right, last time, I dropped a bomb, and really aired all the dirty laundry.  (Well, almost all, someday I will write about my severe post-partum depression, and all that went along with it.  Actually, it was related to the molestation, so maybe that will come sooner than later.)  I have been thinking about how what I wrote would sound to a stranger, and I was thinking that some people would think that my accusation that my brother was himself a victim of abuse was not supported.  So, digging deep into my painful past…here goes!

I feel my brother was molested for many reasons.  He was in a group of boy scouts that included at least two of his friends who were molested by their scout leader.  He was in a group of “elite” Indian Dancers (yes, I know that the term should be “Native American,” but that is the name they used then, and it wasn’t meant to be derogatory.)  These dancers went to schools and other places and wore what they thought was an approximation of authentic costumes.  This included pants made out of deer skin with an open flap to cover the butt.  Underwear was not worn.  Also, no shirt.  When they danced, the butt flap would open.  Yes, I know that it sounds crazy that the boys were allowed to go like that.  The master manipulator, I mean scout master, was so good at selling a line to the parents about why the boys needed to dress like that, etc.  Anyway, my brother was a part of that group.  They also used to go on many overnight camping trips, including a two-week stay at the Cimmaron, New Mexico scout camp with just the leader and the boys.  We can guess what happened there… (My brother went two years in a row.  That is four weeks of unprotected access.)  During this time, I discovered a huge stash of inappropriate magazines in my brother’s room.  I did tell my parents, (I know, all the guys out there are screaming right now!)  and his excuse was that he found them in a tree house.  I never bought that line, and was surprised that my parents did.  (I guess they just wanted a reason to think everything was all right.)  Now that I am older, I really think that these mags were fed to him by the scout leader.  He probably also told him what excuse to give if he was ever caught.

Other reasons I feel he was molested include the fact that he abused me after the scout leader went to prison.  Did he miss it?  Probably.  And, the fact that he was the perfect target.  As was I.  Neither one of us had a loving father figure.  In fact, we had the polar opposite of a loving father figure.  We were both craving love and acceptance from a man.  The scout leader was my brother’s proxy father figure.  He would do anything for his acceptance.  I was lucky that I had a father figure in my band director, who was a wonderful man, and never said a mean word, let alone have any abusive behavior.  I was lucky that I chose a better person.  However, when my brother abused me, I did not have my band leader in my life, yet.  I was so beaten down, that when he started changing from someone who called me names all the time, and doing everything in his power to make my life miserable, I was totally sucked in.  I wanted love and acceptance from a family member.  He stopped torturing me, and started being someone I could turn to.  He offered solace when my parents had left me cowering in the corner.  (I mean this quite literally, and will write about this someday.  I used to go into the deepest corner of the closet in my room, and just be as quiet as possible, so I could avoid any fresh emotional wounds.)  He knew this about me, and used it to his advantage.  As an adult, I can see the moment he started manipulating me.  I really think he learned it from his abuser.  My parents are many things, but they don’t know how to manipulate like that.

Lastly, I just feel that it is the truth.  I know that some people won’t buy that reason, and that is all right.  I know what I know.  I have always been an empath.  I mean this quite literally.  I feel what other people feel.  I have learned to block it for the most part, but I can look at someone, and tell you what they are feeling.  Not why they are feeling it, or anything else, just what they are feeling.  If I am not protecting myself, I can feel it, too.  I know he was abused.  But, even if you think that is hogwash, I think I have given enough other reasons to support my claim.

More to come in the future…

Well, it has come to my attention that someone (or some people,) in the town I live in have been reading my blog. That is all right with me. I originally didn’t tell anyone about it (except my husband,) and didn’t use my full name because I was going to talk about some very private painful things from my past, and I didn’t want to unnecessarily hurt my family, and also because some people I have talked to have had horror stories about stalkers, or problems from giving too much information about themselves in their blogs. From the search query this person used, and the information I have given, I am sure it is someone I know from the Down syndrome community. I just want to say that I am fine with that. I stand by everything I have written here, and take full responsibility for it. I am still not going to use all my identifying information because of the security reasons that I mentioned above, but you are welcome to continue reading if you want to!

So, I have not blogged for a while. I have been busy, and life has gotten in the way. My grandma died last week, and it was quite painful. She and I had a birthday one day apart, so we always celebrated together. We also share a first name, although she went by her middle name, as women named Mary often did in her generation, because there were too many of them!

At the wake and funeral, I saw many relatives that I have not seen in years, some in over 10 years! Also, the perpetrator of the incest that I mentioned in a different post was there. It was painful to face him. He is my brother. There were so many people there who don’t know, (in fact, only my husband, mother, and therapist know.) So, of course, everyone thinks I am rude to my brother. I sit and take it, knowing if they only knew the truth, they would see things so differently. But, a funeral is not the place to start a family fight, so, like a good little catholic girl, I bit my tongue, and accepted a bunch of shit. The most painful part was my mother who I heard telling my brother to, “Just come over,” to my house after the funeral. She knows why I don’t want him there, and she encouraged him to come, anyway. I feel so betrayed!

My brother was abused by his scout leader, I am sure. The scout leader went to prison twice for pedophile abuse, including my brother’s friends. My brother never said anything, but there are so many things that are explained by this, that I am convinced that it is the truth. After the scout leader went to prison, my brother started abusing me. Well, he learned from the master how to manipulate people. (He could also have been abused by a priest, as there was a convicted priest in our church, and my brother was a altar boy, but I feel sure that the scout leader abused him first.)

So, couple this with the incredibly harsh father that we both have, a true German engineer, and you can see how my brother was easy prey for a pedophile. My father has never said, “I love you,” to either of us. Everything we did as kids was wrong, or at best, not good enough. Yes, I do blame my father for all of this to an extent, because his treatment of us laid the groundwork for both of us to be abused.

My mother is not without fault, either. She came from a poor Irish family, lead by a drunk for a father who used to leave my mom and her sister in the car when he went to the bars to drink. Yes, in Minnesota, and yes, in the winter! Which leads us to my Grandma, who is also guilty for being an enabler who let this abuse go on. My mom of course picked the guy to marry who she felt was the most unlike her dad, and therefore able to provide for her.

Ah yes, the cycle of abuse, what a wicked web we weave! Well, it ends here. I am not going to be afraid to expose the skeletons in my closet! My brother molested me, my father emotionally abused me, (and sometimes physically, too,) my mother continues to try to emotionally abuse me, and refuses to accept that her son committed the ultimate crime against her only daughter. I am standing up to say, NO MORE!!!! I will not allow my daughters to be victims! Now, for those who know me, this will explain why I am hyper-vigilant around my daughters. You would be, too, if you experienced what I have!

So, if you know me, and still want to read, that is the worst I have to say! Continue reading, if you want, and feel free to leave a comment if you want to. I am fine with everyone knowing my secrets.

As far as my last post, Emily is doing much better! She actually was getting sick AGAIN when I wrote the last post, but I didn’t realize it. She always regresses when she is sick, but bounces back when she is better. She has been sick so much in the recent past, with ear infections, strep, pneumonia, and bad colds. But, she is much better now, and actually was walking today pushing her baby stroller, which gave her no support at all, but she thought it did. This proves she can walk on her own with no problems, she just needs more confidence!

Right now I am feeling very defeated.  The girls have been sick recently, which means that Emily has at best, stagnated in her progress.  She isn’t interested in practicing walking when she doesn’t feel well.  She used to know her colors, and now, she is getting them wrong half the time, and to make matters worse, she isn’t eating very well.  I have been worried about her eating for a long time, but the school district refuses to giver her O-T help.  At best, we get a bunch of info given to us verbally in a short amount of time, and I am lucky if I remember half of it, let alone implementing it with any success!  So far, the strategies given to us have not worked.  I am introducing a new food at every meal for a week.  (The same food every meal for a week.)  I am using black beans because Emily doesn’t get any protein except from yogurt or milk.  Anna loves black beans, so I thought this would be a good place to start.  She just looks at me like I’m crazy, and ignores them.  The other strategy was to put something on a saltine cracker just a dab in the middle, because she loves crackers.  Well, the first time, she ignored it, but eventually ate the cracker with a little bit of cheese whiz on it.  Today, she boycotted the cracker.  When I look at her progress today, I think that she was better off many months ago.  I don’t know what is going on.  I hate the feeding issue, because kids use that as control, and I don’t want to get into a battle over eating, but, she needs to have a balanced diet, too!  Oh, and she has started rocking on her hands and knees.  I don’t know if it is stimming or not, but I worry about that, too.  The only good thing right now is her speech, which is blossoming.  She will imitate anything we say, or at least try to imitate it.  And, the fact that she is such a sweet, gentle, loving child.  That does mean a lot to me.  I just hope we can get out of this cycle, and get our Emily back!