My Greatest Fear Is: Part 5
PART FIVE: Oct. 9, 2006 1:40pm
5th entry:
I had a job interview today at 2:00pm and I had about a half an hour maybe a little less before they got back from lunch to talk to me, so I sat down and took out my pad and pen and wrote this down so I can place it up on this blog area along with the rest of my blog entries. And by the way, I got the job! Training for the next three days from 6am until 2:30pm and then I work swing shift, or second as the case may be because there is no third, from 11am until about 7 or 8:30pm and it will be at least 40 hours a week. YAY ME!!!!
And now it’s time for the entry at hand.
Whenever I think back on what happened on Saturday morning, this past weekend, I see a frightened, defiant little girl trying to keep herself from falling and disappearing into something she is not going to be able to return from if steps aren’t taken to fight back.
When Peter’s tone of voice, and the look in his eyes, became and angry mix, the defiant reaction, the reality of being afraid was overwhelming to me. I felt I was backed into a corner like an animal caged or cornered and scared to death. Those are the most dangerous ones of all when they are placed in that position.
On how many occasions over the past 40 + years of my life has this happened to me, triggering this defiant, self preservation mode? I can’t even begin to count them, and most, or at least a third of that time I would just go into my own little world and shut out all the bad things altogether. Push it back into the far reaches of my brain as I mentioned in the very beginning when I started placing these blogs on here. But now it’s different, I can’t shut this down. Because something is happening to me that triggers a bad response from me toward Peter, or anyone else for that matter back before Peter was ever in the picture. And when it does trigger this response from me, as I said before, I see Peter, but at the same time I don’t see him, I see someone else instead. As a matter of fact a few different someone else’s actually.
I look back on when I was young and in school, when it should have been a fun time for any little girl or boy. Where there aren’t supposed to be any worries whatsoever other than on the part of the parents. Where kids are supposed to be carefree and happy and have no worries to keep them down. And when I look back I see pain and anguish. My pain and anguish. I am a fairly happy person, I always was and I always will be, even when things knock me down a peg or two once in a while. But when I look back at my past I see things that had happened to me from when I was little up to now, today. And they aren’t very pleasant.
When I was in elementary school from kindergarten through sixth grade, I didn’t have any real friends, I had maybe one or two, who I would play with from time to time, but even they eventually went the way of the meanness that all the other kids had. I basically stayed to my self 90 percent of the time. Everyday, when I was in school, I was picked on by other kids, for reasons I don’t even understand other than kids can be very, very mean. I was hit and I got punched in the stomach a few times by the schoolyard bullies through out those elementary years. During that time and even throughout my junior high and high school years, I have had many problems with other kids picking on me and trying to hurt me, which they did sometimes by pulling me down onto the floor by my ponytail and hitting me. Knocking my books out of my arms and slamming the locker when my hand was inside getting my stuff, which bruised me pretty badly I might add. And even grabbing me from behind on the bus and punching me just because I wanted to open the window a crack because the bus was stuffy from the heat and all the cigarette and pot smoke that accumulated from the back of the bus. When that girl grabbed me from behind, on the bus and punched me, I had finally had enough and I flung myself around and literally backhanded her in the face. I was the one who got in trouble for defending my self by both the principal of my high school and my parents when I backhanded that girl that grabbed me and punched me first. And, last but not least, the death threats. Those were actually taken care of by my dad who had worked for the phone company at that time. He was able to get a wire tap for the telephones in our house because I was getting the death threats and they wouldn’t stop. And he also had a few connections in the police department as well because some of them were also volunteer fireman like my dad, so he had detectives use the information from the phone taps to locate and talk to whoever was doing the threatening. Needless to say that it ended when I was called down to the principal’s office, but when I was summoned I thought I did something wrong again. I didn’t, I was called down there to confront the people that were causing me all the problems along with the threats, and to get an apology from all of them. But I still had my problems until I finally graduated and got my diploma.
Needless to say, that I never fought back before that day on the bus when I finally had enough of the shit that I was taking. The reason behind my not ever fighting back until that day was because of conflicting dictations I received from my mom and dad when I was growing up. When I started coming home from school telling my mom and dad that I was being picked on by other kids, they said that I should not worry about it because they were just being mean and to let the teacher know what is going on so that she can correct it or have the parents correct it. But as the years progressed, the problems became larger and more severe. That was when I was getting hit or punched, or having my hair pulled, hard, or I was being pinched or tripped by the other kids. I told my parents what was going on, and they told me that if I have to defend myself, do it any way necessary to protect myself…using a chair or anything that isn’t nailed down that I could pick up if I can’t use my hands or legs. But don’t ever throw the first punch and that they would stand behind me if I did get into it with someone and defended myself. Then they would turn around and change it and tell me not to fight…something I used to tell my boys not to do unless they absolutely have to…because it is wrong and it isn’t nice, and all the stuff that parents tell you about not fighting for any reason. I kept getting the yes and no, and yes and no from them constantly, that when it came right down to that moment in time that I did try to defend myself, without throwing the first punch, I got into trouble. The other kids literally had to pull us apart, and the bus driver went and got the assistant principal outside, when we got back to the school from BOCES that afternoon, to bring us both to the office. Like I said before, I was the one who got into the most trouble; the other girl only got a wrist slap. My parents were called to come and pick me up and talk to the principal. They were very disappointed in me that day. Until I made them understand what had happened. Then they told the principal he was in the wrong and that the other girl was the one who grabbed and hit me first because I was opening a window, just a crack, to get some air in a stuffy, smoky bus during the winter. But I was still grounded for at least a week because I fought to defend myself.
10:30pm
When I was in the 3rd or 4th grade, my gym teacher, Mr. Fernandez, had the other kids in my gym class line up across from each other making a wide enough path between them so that someone my size could just fit and go through down the line. I had done something wrong by disobeying my gym teacher, and instead of making me sit out the rest of the class, he made me go backwards with my ass sticking out behind me through the line of kids and told them to “SPANK ME”, two hits from each kid on either side of me, on the butt as I went from one end of the line to the other. It was embarrassing and I cried and it really hurt because they all hit me as hard as they could, and then Mr. Fernandez was the last one at the end and he spanked me too. There was no reason for him or anyone to do that to any child. it was uncalled for, yet when I told my parents what happened they called the school to talk to Mr. Fernandez and find out what was going on. He denied that he did any of that and he told them that I did something wrong so he sat me out for the rest of the class period. No one believed me, and even when I told my regular teacher about it, she asked one of the other students that were there what happened and they told her a lie to confirm what Mr. Fernandez said. For at least a week I stayed to myself. I did my work and didn’t even bother to play outside when we were at recess. I was hurting badly inside and no one believed me when I told them why.
When I look back, at the age of 13 or 14 years old, I see Tommy Grey, a kid I went to school with that used to pick on me all the time and spit on me outside in the school yard during free period before the next class started. I see him trying to force me into having anal sex and almost raping me because I refused to do any of it. But the only thing I did was run away, I didn’t fight back, I was afraid and he was bigger than me. He never left me be and always tried to get me alone with him, but I didn’t go anywhere near him if I could help it, it was hard to do that in the mornings and afternoons when you shared the same bus stop though, but at least there were other kids, including my younger sister Erica. I told my dad that he was bothering me and he would not leave me alone at all. So my dad took care of the problem and told Tommy to leave me alone or he would let his father know that he was harassing me…his father was a big man and you never want to cross him…and he finally left me alone. But the thing was, at the time I was too afraid to tell my dad that Tommy tried to force me into having sex with him anally or otherwise. So I kept that to myself and never said a word to anyone to this day except for Peter. My parents still don’t know that this happened.
I see myself at the age of 16 sitting in and apartment built in my aunt and uncle’s basement that they were renting out to a couple for a while. I see myself alone with this guy…who I thought was gorgeous at the time, and who was in his mid to late 20s…letting him touch me and liking it. But it scared me at the same time, and I didn’t fight to get away, because even though I sort of liked his touching me, at the same time a bell was ringing in my head telling me to make him stop and get away before anything else happened. Nothing else happened, there was no time…thank God, because my mom was looking for me, so he had to stop before he was caught molesting me. Though nothing else happened, in my diary I wrote that I wished that something more happened…this from a 16 year old girl who is naïve as all get out and had no clue whatsoever about sex and guys other than what she learned from books and health class. And the fact of the matter is, what he did was molestation. He was taking advantage of me and the situation at hand. And at 16 I did not understand or see it that was, even thought there were warning bells going off in my head. Until now, other than Peter, I have never told anyone about that either, just my dairy entry.
I see my self around 20 or 21 years old, being cornered inside my car by a guy that followed me home from a club one night without my knowledge, trying to force me down on the seat of my car and take full advantage of me. I fought but could not escape, and he would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for some people walking towards where we were parked. I couldn’t even scream because he plastered his mouth over mine. He had practically torn my pants off of me, they ended up down to almost my ankles, but because those people were coming closer, he had no choice but to get up and get back in his car and drive away, leaving me to fight my tears and redress myself. I wasn’t bruised or anything, so even if I told someone about what had happened they would not have believed me. Those people never even knew what was happening when they passed the car, they apparently had just gotten out of one of the clubs around the area also and were drunk off their gourds, and had the guy realized that, he would have succeeded in raping me. The state of mind I was in at the time I can’t even describe to you. But I also hid that away permanently in the far corners of my brain with all the rest of the painful memories I stocked there over the years.
I see my ex-husband before and after we got married, hit me in anger twice during that time. I see him over the course of our marriage verbally abuse me, especially after I got pregnant so quickly with our younger boy, and because he was angry that I got pregnant so fast…we weren’t planning on having him until my oldest, Jacob, was at least 2 years old, I was seriously thinking about aborting his brother, Steven, but I didn’t and I am so glad I didn’t. Because I could not do that to a life so precious, it goes against my grain. Both of my sons are my life, had I aborted Steven I would never have forgiven myself or their father, especially their father, because he was the cause of this problem. I see him when we were having our real troubles for two years before we divorced, point a loaded gun at me in front of the boys, a few months before I filed for divorce. He never pulled the trigger, but I know that even though Steven doesn’t remember what happened back then, Jacob still does to this day. He could never forgive his father for doing that to his mother. And even though he and I get along better now than we did when we were married, I still can’t ever forgive him that discretion, ever.
I look at myself and see a frightened woman who doesn’t realize that all is in the past and it cannot hurt me anymore. I never knew what it was, and I really still don’t exactly that triggers this reaction of defiance and self-preservation. But because of these memories, as well as ones I don’t quite remember up front, are making me fight back, which I never did before when all is said and done, at the time all these things happened to me back then.
I know that there are things hidden behind the walls I have built up to keep them away from me, that will most likely stay that way and never change. A friend of mine made a comment to me yesterday, she said that if those wall come down, especially too fast, that it would literally destroy me. Most of the things behind those walls have already started to come out, but there are things behind them that will never be allowed to come out, and those are the things that will destroy me. Those are the things that I will never know for the rest of my life. They are what they are, and I cannot change them. I have to deal with them and understand them but I will never know what they are or why they are. I just know that along with what I placed up here today they will be dealt with as best as I can so that I can live my life free of these triggers from now on.
The precepts I told you about are helping me to bring this out in me so I can learn to deal with these ghosts from my past.
They are as follows:
1. Trust in Sir
2. Be honest with Sir at all times
3. Understand that you are property
4. You primary goal is to please Sir
5. Your primary Fear should be Sir’s displeasure
6. Rewards from Sir are earned, not given
7. Pain is a gift from Sir, cherish it always
8. Always be aware you are a Sexual Creature
9. Constantly strive to better yourself
10. Never forget that Sir, while you Lord and Master, is still human
These are the precepts that Peter has given to me as my Master. I will go into them more later in my next and hopefully final entry on this chapter.
