Wednesday, May 15, 2013

This isn't really a blog. I started this because I am thinking that writing to you will be easier than talking. You aren't my therapist. In fact, you are my husband who pays for a therapist to listen to me. A therapist to help me, to fix me, to keep me in line with reality, to wake me up, to tell me the truth, to help me face the questions I need to ask myself. You've work so hard to make sure I have a therapist yet here you are now becoming not only my husband but my pillow as well.

It's unfair. Not for me but for you and Claire. And I am sorry.

I am very very sorry. I wish I knew how crazy my life will be in 10 years when you asked me to marry you. Maybe then I could have saved you from all my misery. I have been thankful for you ever since I met you that I really believe that God was watching over me when I met you. However, was He watching over you? Is He watching over Claire?

I am angry. Of course you know it's not you. I am angry at how my life turned out to be. I am angry at the 2 people who raised me. Yet time and time again, no matter how I know that they have a part on this, I manage to forgive them and feel more guilty for blaming them for all of this. So who am I to blame except myself, right? After all this is me. I can't blame God, because every action I took was mine. It's not like I was his puppet. And then, I really can't blame my parents because even if they didn't mean to hurt me, even if they thought screaming and fear was a normal way to have a life with children, even if they thought that saying how proud they are of their children was a bad idea and won't do any good for us, even if they thought belittling their children was a way of challenging their children to prepare them for their future, even if they thought spanking to a point of bruising won't really hurt us at all, even if my own mother constantly used fear of my father's temper as a way of disciplining us, even if my mother could leave my father if he ever cheated on her but do not consider leaving him when he lost control over his emotions and anger and the only way to relieve it is to beat the crap out of me or their other children, even if they could never say that they are sorry for the pain that they know they have caused, even if my sister's weight was always a topic during dinner time, even if their reputation in the community are far more greater than what their children thought of them, even if they thought having food to feed us was the most important responsibility they have for their children but who could care less if they emotionally abuse us, even if my mother believed the rapist's stories better than her own child-how could I blame them? How could I ever blame them?

I wish I could take my fears away so you and Claire can have a peaceful life. I wish I don't have to dissect every action I make with my child so you don't have to remind me that Claire needs limitations and boundaries and my actions are just right. I wish I don't have to check the locks on the door each single night even after you have just locked it a second ago. I wish I don't freak out on raw chicken so much and can accept that Salmonella won't make the world end. I wish that I could relax inside our house even if it is messy and disorganize. I wish I could stop worrying about a potential stranger that could take Claire away from us or sexually abuse her. I wish that I didn't think of every new person in our life as a possible threat to our child's life.  I wish I could allow you to sleep with our windows open and not worry so much about someone coming in the middle of the night. I wish I was a happy person and less miserable. I wish I was outgoing and could care less about what people thought of me. I wish I was smart to understand your work and maybe you could talk to me more about it. I wish I wasn't so paralyzed by my fear of someone hurting my child that I could actually work outside of our home and help you out financially, but instead I need to be home when she is out from school and I don't see any way around it. I wish I could trust a babysitter so we can go out on dates. I wish I prioritize our dates when Claire was a baby, maybe you wouldn't have been so stressed out yourself. I wish I could control and keep all my fears to myself so you don't have to worry. I wish I was healthy then none of this would even be a topic in our family. I wish I didn't scream  as much when you are just trying to reason with me. I wish that I could be the wife you've dreamt of when you asked me to marry you. I wish I was the mother that Claire deserves. I wish that my mind could be at ease even for a couple of hours then maybe I really could enjoy my time with you and Claire. I wish I could forgive your mother because she really is just like me, she used to be me before the drinking. I wish that going out to eat shouldn't be such a work for us, damn Yelp. I wish I could just enjoy life like you do but then now I know you aren't because of me. I wish I could be carefree. I wish that the injustices around the world and around us, does not make me insane for an entire day sometimes months. I wish anger could be tamed and does not hijacked me. I wish I could just wear anything  and not be bothered by what people thought of me. I wish I wasn't like my father. I wish I didn't come from this family that raised me. I wish I never met that person who raped me. I wish I never met that person who physically  abused me and almost killed me. I wish I have more patience. I wish that I could just be a normal person and not be bothered so much by bad food or bad cooking. I wish my conscience wasn't such a big part of me. I wish guilt doesn't exist in me. I wish I wasn't a worrier. LOOK AT ME. I am all this! And I wish I wasn't me. ME. ME. ME.The problem is really me.

I've been wishing so much lately that my life will end soon, then maybe all the guilt, the worry and the pain that I have could easily go away without me really affecting you and Claire. But because of the guilt and the worry and the pain, I haven't yet because I know  that if I do-everything that I wished wasn't me will somehow become you and Claire.

I really didn't know I was going to be here at the age of 34. I really didn't know. I thought that fighting through was going to make me come down from that hill alive, well, happy and healthy. I really didn't realize that how I am coping would end up making me climb another mountain. And I am scared. I am scared for you and Claire. I am scared that you and Claire don't only have to ride this with me but also cause you and Claire to have your own mountain in the future to climb because of all of these. Because of my fear, because of my pain, because of my anger, and because of all of me.

What choices do I really have? What is better for everyone in the long run? Claire does not deserve this. She is our angel and her future is so bright ahead of her. What if I damage her because of me? What if to get through this mountain is enough to cause her a lot of pain in her future and then she'll end up just like me? We don't know whats in her future. And we don't have any guarantees so what do I choose?


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