Happy Sunday everyone! I hope you had a wonderful weekend so far!
I am really feeling some people struggling and so I want to first send out all of my love and light to those in hard places. I know there are often no adequate words and so I just hope you feel my love…I truly do.
My blog has been a daily commitment for me since December. I don’t go back and read my posts after they go up or follow my stats too much. I really do just wake up and come to write, to honor a commitment I made to myself to write for 365 days. My posts are about me and my experience of my life and apparently have upset some people reading. Here’s my advice for that…don’t read, because I’m not going to stop writing.
For all that Facebook does to aggravate me, I stay because of our business pages and for the connection to you all that I wouldn’t have otherwise. I hate the un-friending and the blocking and the petty fucking bullshit. I hate how it feels to be Un-friended. I know, I know…I’ve much work to do. I hate that we don’t have conversations anymore…we just click buttons and eliminate people from our lives. I have done it too, so I’ve no judgement really…just sitting with how it feels to have someone say I don’t want to be your friend anymore. It feels like elementary school, standing there while they are picking teams and praying with everything in me that I wouldn’t be picked dead last. Actually I think I prayed harder for other awkward kids not to be picked dead last. At any rate, I have been un-friended, once again, by someone. Whom I love very much…blood related…never saw it coming. With many of my blood relatives up in a tizzy, over my writing, there are some that I have expected to see go. This person was not one of the ones I thought would do anything other than support me. Like I said, I’ve much work to still do around being un-friended, even around not being un-friended by a mutual friend of ours who un-friended Tamara. Anyway, enough about all of that…it’s just really kind of front and center in my consciousness this morning. I have never been one of the popular kids…why the fuck would I aspire for that now? An uncool kid in an unforgiving and mean world…that’s what I want to talk about today.
So, I will invite you to leave now, if it offends you or upsets you how I speak of my life experiences around bullying and badgering and abuse. If you are upset, maybe you want to look at why that truly is? Am I talking about you? If I am, and you know it, frankly, you ought to be upset, because you are a fucking monster. If I’m not talking about you and you feel like you need to defend others, when you’ve absolutely no fucking idea what happened to me, please do un-friend me…stop reading my blog…go bury your head back in the fucking sand…do whatever you need to do for yourself. If my phone isn’t ringing, and you aren’t inviting or bringing conversation to this experience, to help heal it, then kindly fuck off. I cannot be more clear right now than I am going to be, so please pay close attention:
My name is Coral. I am an incest survivor. I was abused by my Mother’s sister until I was almost eighteen years old. I was sexually assaulted, verbally threatened and manipulated…I was terrorized and brutalized, sworn to silence and badly hurt. My Mom is dead, and her sister is not. Some days, just that…nothing else…that my Mom is buried in the fucking ground and this woman walks and talks and moves freely about…is just too much for me to fathom. This woman, who abused me, admittedly to hurt her own sister, is calling me a liar. I will address that now…I do not give one fuck, two fucks, red fucks or blue fucks what that woman says. I will assure you that if I were ever to lie about anything, my aunt sitting on my face would not be it. So, again, if you aren’t here to love and support me, please go. I hope that was clear enough…I really, really do. If it’s not and you need graphic details, I’ve got those too…please call me. Otherwise,I am going to move forward and consider this issue resolved. I am an incest survivor. I was abused by my Moms little sister, over the span of about 18 years. My family, even those who knew and did nothing, have always been busier defending her than they have ever been protecting me. I was a fucking infant child. I was a baby. I was a kid. I was a toddler. I was an adolescent. I was a young lady. I was a young adult. I was not 44 years old when it happened and I’m not a “normal 44 year old” now, because it happened. If you are not here to love me through living through this, to be a source of inspiration, love, light and support, to build me up and to help me to heal, then you may leave now. If you defend her, we are finished here. The woman that abused me is sick and hurt and a broken down alcoholic, who has never taken one bit of accountability for what she did to me. I am not here to go after her…I am here to heal. If she’s feeling backed into a corner, those are her demons, not mine. If you aren’t here to love and support me, the adult child with a dead Mom and a very distant father and brother, just trying to come through all of this, sober and healing and healthy, I will ask you one last time, to leave.
My Mom’s family, the Hammond family, that I have always been so proud to be a part of, that I was never really a part of, is sick. All of my life, I have heard stories about their bullying and taunting and teasing…about whose ass they kicked and how much beer they could drink…drunken and unruly family members, including myself, reeking havoc and not giving a fuck. Adults giving children alcohol. The stacks of pornographic magizines that young eyes weren’t ready to see and could not unsee, under the Better Homes and Gardens Magazine on top. Adults that were WAY too old to be showering with children and kids way too young to be shooting guns, smoking cigarettes and chewing tobacco. I thought I came from greatness. Imagine my surprise, to learn that I did not. I came from abuse and bullying, taunting and teasing, alcoholism and incest. I am a survivor of my family and the abuse that adults did not protect children from. My family members were the town drunks and the bully’s who kicked peoples asses who weren’t like them. My uncles taunted my Mom and “teased” her until she peed her pants and cried…and this was family fun. It was mother fucking awful to watch. I cried and begged them to leave my Mom alone…”aww Coral, we are just playing with her…lighten up….” I never did lighten up and I never thought it was funny. It wounded my very soul to see them hurt my Mom and my little cousin who was more misfit than me, if you can even imagine that.
So, with that, I am going to say again that this is my blog and I write to heal myself, to get all of this pain out, rather than keeping it inside. I am not here to debate or argue. I have no need. I know what happened to me, and I know who hurt me. My family hurt me and my family who wasn’t actually hurting me, stood by and let me get hurt. Adults in my Moms family of origin have not protected the children. I am not okay with that and I will not be silent about that.
I am at a crossroads here and I’ll tell you what,letting this go, would be a lot easier for me right now. I survived it and I’m ready for the good things coming. I owe the world some healing. I owe myself some healing. I owe you some healing. I begin, by doing all I can, to heal a family, so fucking broken that they would rather deny their sickness than to get help.
I will not live in fear any longer. I’ve been bullied and had my ass kicked my whole life. I’ve been sexually assaulted and physically assaulted, emotionally discredited and wounded, and I am not afraid of the bullies in my family anymore. If I end up dead or wounded, it is pretty clear where to begin looking for the person who hurt me…in the same place the people who have hurt me have always been, in my family of origin.
I had no intention of writing about this today, or ever really. I woke up in a pretty good place and I’ll not let this bring me down. I also will not be silent about things that really matter any longer. My Moms family, not just her sister, have hurt me deeply and caused me great trauma throughout my lifetime. You know who you are if I’m talking about you and you know who you’re not if I’m not, and it really is that simple. If you aren’t here to help me through this, please go. I mean it, if you are from that family, and you are not here to love me through this and to help me heal, then I am asking you to leave now.
For everyone else reading this morning, I just want to say that I’m glad you’re here. Some of you, I’ve no doubt, are the chosen family I am surrounding myself with. I love you and more than you can imagine, I appreciate your love and support.
As always, as we take our last sip of coffee together this morning, I send all that no longer serves us, back to the universe, to be recycled for the greater good of us all. I am here to heal and I thank you for healing with me. Happy Sunday everyone! I love you.