Broken dreams
This topic has never been easy for me even though I know I can’t avoid it forever. I have thought of many ways to write this in all honesty and every time I tell myself. I will get to it later but later never comes and I don’t want to push it off anymore.
because I cannot keep lying to myself anymore. Even though sometimes I find myself wanting to
ignore it just a little bit longer and find a way to distract myself. Only if I could just push it to the back of my mind and act as if it never happened. However, pushing things away and
Keeping them to yourself is not at all a healthy way to deal with anything and only makes it worse.
So please bear with me because this is going to be one hell of a process.
considering I have not written anything in a long time like since I was in middle school.
I never really know why I stopped in the first place, but it really helped me process.
what was going on and how I was feeling. That was not all I would use it for though I
would write short stories and comics back then as well. I honestly can remember that
My older sister and I would sit and write stories together and we would write comics
together. It was always fun. Even though we would sometimes write comics and draw
pictures of our younger sister and we would be writing funny make-up stories about her
and then we would laugh so hard about it. We were only acting like any other siblings.
We would never write or draw anything to mean, at least I hope not . The comics about
Our younger sister were mostly like those old school simple cartoon comedies . Like her
mistaking hair removal for shampoo or her hair sticking up and being all poofy, those
were what we thought were the funniest things in the world and we used to do this for a
while whenever she should come over on the weekends. I thought it was the best thing
ever being able to draw stick figures and coming up with stories and me and her would
talk about writing a book one day and that would always make me smile. I Sometimes
wish only if things could have been that simple for us all. We would have turned out
better in the end if it had been instead of the stuff, we all had to deal with.
After all, when I do look back and think about us growing up all we had was the world of
pretend and imaginary games and places like for instances I can remember a time when
our oldest sister who was a teenager at the time but would still make up games and
play with us anyways which I thought was the coolest thing ever back then. Anyway, at
the time she had made up a game called fair world, and we had to fight a woman named
Kerria. The game was kind of like the show Danny Phantom crossed with wizards and
spy kids all mixed together but we always enjoyed it, and she always found a way to
make it fun. She even had us outside building pretend shelters for animals and going
around outside making fake food for them to save them but whatever it was always fun
when we all played these games . However that was all they ever were just games and
After the games ended so did the fun and the nightmares would begin .
I think nightmares are the reason we all grew up so fast and tore us all up in our
own ways and made us all go our own ways in like never really reaching out for each
other or fully trusting anyone in the world ever aging. It made the little dreamers and
hopeful and trusting little kids we once disappeared into adulthood so fast and each
one of us coping in our own way even if it was not the best way at the time.
It’s not like we really understood that at the time or we did and just ignored it because
We felt like we needed it to help us ride out the darkness that would come out of
nowhere and out of somewhere all at once sometimes.
I was a teenager when the darkness seemed to only get worse, and the darkness was
It is hard to get away from when it was a person and that person was your parent . That
parent was someone who was supposed to protect us and keep us safe and someone
we were supposed to look up to but instead would look down upon us and would crush
us even past our breaking points.
I can remember being twelve years old and I had written a book, and it had taken me a
whole year to write it and I was really excited about it. I and was even hoping I could
publish it. After all, my English teacher at the time had a student a few years prior who
He had helped publish their book . I was hoping he could help me do the same and he
had been helping me at the time. After all he did get me the website to get hold of
someone to maybe have my mine published and I was so thrilled. I couldn’t wait to
have one of my big wishes come true and after a year it was all going to happen and it
was one of the only things I was really looking forward to at the time considering
Everything at home and school at the time was not going well.
My dreams would be short lived however because three weeks after I was laying in my
bedroom watching tv when my father came barging into my room and he was grabbing
and throwing all my books off the shelf and into the floor in one of his fits of rage
and I was in complete utter shock and fear at the sight of him doing this to my room. All
because I had a few moments before told my mom I was depressed at school and at
home so he really wanted to show me what it was like. The monster then started
screaming at me to take my book that I had been working hard on to take and throw it
into the wood stove because he was burning all my stuff. He even burned Edgar Allen
Poe book and I was sad about that as well. To top it all off he didn’t just burn my stuff
he even threw some off around my room and at me calling me names but at this point I
think some part of me has blocked it out .
To this day my brain still has it blocked out as well with other parts of my childhood till
I was about eighteen years old . I think its for the best because who knows and maybe
its for the best I don’t remember every detail of those times or whatever happened because
what I do remember sometimes I wish I did not .
My father or the monster had many outbursts and my mother did aid in these fits of
rage sometimes and that would really be the low blow to us kids and it hurt and shook
us to our very core .
Yet her reasoning for doing this to us was because he would abuse her verbally and
physically just like he would do us . but instead of trying to protect us kids. she instead
would turn the tables around on us sometimes or throw us under the bus if it would
save her. I honestly think now about my mother. She was good at laying the bait
and waiting for someone to walk right into the trap without any warning signs of any
danger and when the poor, unexpecting victim would take the bait she would quickly
wrap them up and spin them into her web of lies . Those were disguised as soft and
sweet words whispering next to your ear telling you everything you needed to hear and
she would go as far as pulling you into a warm hug and kissing your forehead and
whipping your tears away . Then she would make sure you were at your lowest and
most vulnerable moment and without a second thought she would quickly devour you if
it would help her to get a leg up at that very moment in time . The saddest part is you
would never know when or where the web of lies ended or started . The worst thing of
all is she would do this often to us kids and we never even had a chance after all she
made us believe she was our friend and our safe space.
I used to enjoy my mother telling me stories about her growing up or just things that had
happened to her during her life or just that day . After all she was good at telling nothing
but stories she would make you feel like you were in the very same room it had
happened in . until we were part of those stories and they grew more and more every
time during these fits of rage .
I know as an adult I feel nothing but scrambled inside trying to unwind all the webs and
damage they both have caused me. It was so bad I sometimes do not know if anything I
knew growing up was real or fake . That’s what I hate most sometimes about getting
older or its just the fact I will never know the truth . I hate feeling like I have some of the
pieces or the parts to a puzzle that I will never be able to finish . Even when I feel I might
be able to fit some of those pieces together they quickly crumble. Only leading to a
dead end with more questions than answers.
The saddest part is though I know this I choose to sooth my ever-ending thoughts in the
back of mind with false hope or fake answers just to keep part of me at bay. However
that does not work all the time and it still eats away at me little by little, but I try to tell
Let me go because if I keep dwelling on this topic, it will only cause me more pain.
I try to use healthy ways to cope now when I have those old thoughts or feelings from
the past that seems to creep back up from the depths of my mind. That I usually fight so
hard to keep back in the past they tend to crawl out of. I hate those feelings or thoughts
mostly because they only happen when topics or certain things happen in my life
where it’s from people or places or even just situations it can be triggering to me and I
do my best to keep my composure up no matter what I can’t let myself slip or even let it
5
crack little because then I’m too exposed and anything can happen. After all that’s when
your most vulnerable and at your weakest moment anyone can seize that opportunity.
At least that is what I was taught growing up with the monster / father I grew up with
after he was the king of lies and manipulation. He could look right at anyone with a
smile upon his face and tell them off at the same time without even missing a beat and
he could twist anything they said right back at them. After all he did pride himself upon
this ability that he somehow had and would brag about it as if it was some kind of
hidden superpower he had uncovered about himself only to master it ever so quickly.
My father did brag to use a time or two about this skill, but he mostly loved to talk
about after he would leave his job. He would relive that moment he had at work
telling every detail about how he would tell a customer off right in front of the cameras
only to make them look like the bad person instead. He would do this constantly to
anyone and everyone who he knew could get away doing this too. After all he did seem
like he seeked out like he got some kind of sick thrill out of it.
The only thing I could think of is those poor unexpecting people who didn’t know what
was going on or that it was too late by the time they realized what was going on.
These people only ever ask him to do simple task or what his job entailed
So with this kind of person and this kind of mindset they would be planting this way of
thinking into our little minds . Little did we know this was all wrong and that is not how
normal people acted or treated everyone else around them.
Of course we never understood this considering we were just little kids and this was the
only father figure some of us had growing up and at that time in our lives we saw him as
a hero and we hung off every word he told us thinking it all was true .
So we all started to develop our own ways of dealing with this information that he
would give and we all each developed a hardened version of ourselves to stay safe .
Thinking about all of this now I wish I could go back and keep all of this from happening
but what would have been the purpose of that I guess . There really is no point wasting
time making pointless wishes on something that never could be the only thing we can
do now is grow and learn from what happened and try to not repeat them.
We have to learn to move on and let go or it will eat you all up inside .
I know writing this may seem pointless at this moment in time, but I feel I should try to
pick up writing and see where it leads me after all, not like it is going to hurt anything.
I’m going back to the beginning from where it all started to try and explain how we
ended up like this. Even if this ends up going nowhere and no one else sees this I owe it
to myself.
( wrote this a long time ago and this is unedited so please forgive how it looks)