Legacy

Legacy

An odd word really, it conjures up a happy image perhaps when someone says they were left a legacy. The word legacy itself means a gift, or to have something passed down.stethoscope

Yet, for an adult who suffered a form of child abuse, the legacy is far from happy. Often, at least I have found, the legacy I am left with is far worse than the experience itself.

Legacy, like a shadow I cannot lose.

I am sure I am not alone in this, that the gift that was passed to me, haunts me in my every days. Whether it is something as simple as smelling something, or seeing a story on the news that is triggering or a child walking past me that still has his innocent smile. There is always something.

I find because of this I pretty much alienate myself from everyone in every way possible. My family does not know the real me, they see smiles. I do everything; I function as I am meant to. As I said before, I have perfected the happy external image.

I don’t keep friends in my real life because I can’t talk and if I could, they would not understand. Maybe a day I am hugely triggered and I cannot do something that was planned, I have to cancel. I lost my high school friend this way, he got tired of me cancelling plans and perhaps the other way around I would have too. I am at university, but I do not make friends because I don’t fit. People talk to me of course, but I am more comfortable sitting with my head in a book and being lost in a fantasy world, than talking to real people. Yet sometimes I watch them from over my book, the way they are so free to laugh or be sad, to talk or cry. To do whatever it is that friends do. I wish in many ways I had that.

I think I do a good job of driving my online friends away too. I get quiet when I am not feeling good in my mind. Something’s I will say, but too often I feel like a burden, because these things in my head are stuck, but I don’t want to be that friend that people dread, because I never seem to be happy. Who really wants a friend that every time you speak to them, they make you feel depressed with their issues?

I had to go to the doctors this week, for a cough that I have had since October or November time, it got to the point that I can’t sleep, so I gave in and called. Doing that was hard in itself; I don’t like to go to the doctors. Not because I am afraid, but because it is so triggering, weekly my mother would drag me there with various ailments I was meant to have, all because she wanted to see the doctor herself.

According to her, I was ill so much because she was meant to be with the doctor as his wife and so fate, made me ill so that she might see him often and work on being in a relationship with him. She taught me that he was never interested in making me better, but more in entering into sexual relations with her.

This is what I think about when I need to go. When I am sat in the waiting room like, I did as a child and being made to tell her for the umpteenth time, that she looks good, and after, the grilling, I would receive. Did he look at her nicely, did he smile. Do I think he was happy to see her? And my answers dictated how the rest of my day would go. If I made her happy, I was fed, I could watch the television.  My father wouldn’t beat me. So I sat in the doctors waiting room on Monday, probably looking like I was afraid to move.

Then there is the going into the doctor’s office itself, I hate to say how I feel, but I have to, and I have to remove my top so that he can listen to my chest. He put his hand on my shoulder, while he stood behind me and like any doctor, he listened to my breathing. My mind was going haywire because he had hold of shoulder and he was behind me, I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, he said he wanted to try some antibiotics for a week, but perhaps they will have to x-ray. I sheepishly asked for the medication in solution form, because even more thanks to my mother, I cannot get myself to swallow tablets.

The doctor sighed and I know he wasn’t happy, he had that ‘tone’ like I’m being a pain and I couldn’t explain to him why I can’t take tablets, I just had to sit there and receive that look as if I was being difficult on purpose. He did what all doctors seem to do, he tells me, he’ll give me a solution, but because I won’t take tablets, I have to have this specific one that will probably make me vomit.

And there it is, a giant trigger for me, if anyone has read my books, medication that is likely to make me vomit is so huge for me. I took the prescription from him, thanked him for his time, but the prescription was in the trash can on my way out the door and I wondered why I just endured all that trauma.

I get home, and my children ask me what the doctor said, I just told them I have a cough and got medication and then I went to cook them dinner, they are content with my answer. Inside I am shattered from a simple trip to the doctors, that felt like retracing my steps through hell and there’s no one to tell.

The legacy of childhood.

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12 thoughts on “Legacy

  1. JD I understand just what you mean and where you coming from, Theres a lot of us with unwanted legacys,we need to learn to trust more people,perhaps you could chat amongst the guys at uni,you don’t have to be best buds,but it might make you feel more at ease.And please go get another prescription you need to be well for your family ok. ((HUGS)) 🙂 xxxx

  2. It saddens me that so much still tortures you today. I understand your issues regarding the doctor, your mother, the abuse, and all that has come from them … too well.

    As far as your feelings regarding friends, I am positive that you know what I am thinking, as you have a knack for doing that. And so, I won’t lay one of my lectures/sermons on you. What I will do though, is say to you, that I have never regretted a single moment since that very first conversation one night so long ago, with a man who was so witty, intelligent charming, sweet, funny, even somewhat innocent and tormentingly devilish at the same time… in a good way. (kryptonite) A man who befriended me at one of the lowest points in my life. Who “took my hand” and pulled me free from the darkness that had such an awful grip upon me. Despite the tremendous amount personal pain he had been carrying around inside for so long, he showed me that there are still good things in this life.

    He taught me a completely different way to view life… by showing me his.

    In the years since that night, we have our share of both good… and not so good times together; but that is to be expected of any friendship. And I am very grateful for everything we have shared.

    I will end this note by saying the usual:
    You are not, nor have you ever been a burden to me.
    I do not, nor have I ever dreaded talking with you.
    I do not become, nor have I become depressed because of your issues.

    You know I am always near.
    You know that I like you.
    And you know that I love you so… no matter what.

    ~ Hugs ~

  3. This saddens me. You can always talk to me. No matter what you think. I will never judge you or feel you are a burden. You are precious to me no matter what. You are not a fly by night friend to me James…I love you, and there is the difference. Hugs ❤

  4. I am sorry for all that you continue to endure, however you are moving forward and that is all anyone can do. It takes incredible strength to go through the motions of living when you are ready to crumble at the drop of a hat. I commend you and am glad that you went to the doctor. Also, I know I am an “internet friend” but I am like oak, like glue. I am strong, I dont move and I stick around. You can’t break me and you cant push me away. Im always here whether you feel it or not.

  5. Yep. You can talk to us until the cows come home. Or if you don’t feel like talking just say “hi.” We’ll understand.

    My blood pressure shot to 165/110 when I went to the dentist because they made me — gasp — weigh. Then they insisted on taking my blood pressure directly afterward. I was so embarrassed with myself, not only because of my weight, but that I would react that way to it still after all these years.

    I hate the doctor too. But in my case it has all to do with my weight which has been high since I was 4 years old. lol!

    Anyway, I know it’s not the same thing, but I could relate about your terror about going to the doctor in my own way.

    Next time, ask for pills, and then crush them or open the capsules and put them into a drink that you like to drink. If it’s a little bitter, put some honey in it. That’s what I have to do for my daughter Amanda who has the Rett Syndrome, you know.

    Hugs and kisses!

    Joy

  6. You ask who wants “a friend that every time you speak to them, they make you feel depressed with their issues”. I say, what kind of friend abandons you because you’re feeling depressed with your issues? Not a true one, that’s for sure. Especially if they know what you have been through.
    Your books, and you as a person, have made your on-line friends respect, admire and care for you a great deal. The comments above are proof enough of that. They are all sensitive to your struggle. None of them judge you, and none of them will ever abandon you. We are all here for you whenever you want to talk, and even after you disappear for a while. We will always be here for you. No matter what. Do whatever you feel you need to, without feeling guilty about it.

    As for your medication, I have the same problem as you with swallowing pills. I know this might sound stupid but what I do is pop one into my mouth the moment I am about to swallow a bite of food. It’s the only way I can do it. Goes down easy 🙂 Ask for another prescription and give it a go. Don’t neglect yourself.

  7. JD,I can’t tell you how saddened I am that you are still struggling with your childhood into adulthood. But you are still here, telling your stories, sharing with the world and making long time friends who care for you and love you very much. I commend you on your courage to do so, no matter how hard it is for you, you manage to keep on going and writting.

    Much love to you from one “internet friend” to another. I will always be here to support you in whatever capacity.

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