Hubby says it started when this guy asked to be my friend on Face Book.
I guess, he wasn’t just any guy. Technically, he’s my uncle. Although, no one really acknowledges that fact.
I know I don’t.
Well, until now, I guess.
I have a very extended family. My mom has been married 4 times now and there are five of us kids. Hubby’s parents were only married to each other but there are six kids in that family. So counting the siblings and their spouses alone there are 19 of us. I have numerous step-siblings as well from my mom’s recent marriage(some of whom I have never actually met). I also had a step-brother from one of mom’s previous marriages but I haven’t seen nor spoken with him in more years than I can count.
What does all of that have to do with my uncle? All of the above is on only one side of my family. My mom’s. No one on my Dad’s side is accounted for.
I haven’t had any sort of contact with my father since I was between 9-12 years old. Why can’t I pin-point it closer than an age range? Because I don’t remember. My childhood memories are so repressed that I am unable to remember specifics, just ranges.
As the story goes, he was given a choice…go to jail or sign over parental rights to me and my little sister. He chose the latter of the two. And I haven’t talked to him since. He pretty much disappeared from my life and he took his family with him. All of the uncles, aunts, and cousins…no contact at all. It’s like I don’t exist on their radar. I do have contact with my Grandpa…because he tried. He kept track and he stayed in touch all these years. He cared.
I could go on and on about growing up without my real father. About how I felt abandoned and unloved and how it has tainted my every relationship…
But that’s not what this post is about.
Hubby said it started when the uncle asked to be my friend on Face Book. He said it as he held me at six o’clock this morning. He said it in response to my obviously upset demeanor. The shaking (although that may have only been on the inside), the trembling voice, the sleep deprived eyes.
I had another dream last night. Yes, another.
My father has been standing at the edge of my dreams for a week now. Never showing his face. Never coming near me. And yet still making me afraid.
Do I have something to be afraid of? My adult mind would say no, not really. My inner child though, would not agree.
I have spent my life with terrifying thoughts in the back of my mind about being stolen. As a child, I was scared he would pop out from behind the bushes and take me. Now, I am scared the the prey will be my children. Every story of a pedophile, every story of abduction, every time my kids are outside playing with their friends, the thought lays in the recesses of my mind, never far from reach. The thought that he will take them…and along with them, the life and happiness that I have built without his help, without his guidance, without his love.
He has always haunted me. Like a ghost that isn’t dead. A ghost that can actually cause me harm. But I have always been able to compartmentalize him. Shove him into a little box and down so deep in my head that he can’t hurt me.
But now, he’s creeping back in and haunting my dreams.
The adult me wants to reach out. I have a step-mom and more step-siblings that have never laid eyes on. I have a whole extended family that lives within hours of me that I wouldn’t even know if I saw them on the street. With today’s technology, I could stay at a safe distance but have contact with almost anyone I want to have contact with. My step-mom has Face Book.
But the child in me awakens early in the morning shaken and scared because he once again crept into a place where he wasn’t wanted. Unannounced. The child in me knows that he has stolen so many years and moments of happiness from my life and by invading my dreams he continues to be a thief in the night.
Trying to reach out to a family that was taken from me may have opened the door to a demon resurgence. More armor may be necessary.