Nothing is Forever

I thought I was over many bad memories I have been through in my life. I was so astonished that after much healing and happiness I dreamt it again. My Mother physically abusing me and that sense of being tremendously scared. 

I am number three of six children. My parents migrated here on a visa from Mexico in the late sixties. They never sat down and shared stories of their beginnings here in the US. All I know is that my mother got pregnant from here in NY and my dad sent her to give birth to Mexico. I have asked that question and I was told that back then, immigration services would take away kids of undocumented people. My parents came to USA on a visa. I am not sure what their legal status was at that time but I feel it was pure ignorance to not want to understand how things worked. 

Anyway, all through my life I hear stories here and stories there in chunks and different pieces. I heard my mother adored my dad to the point of almost obsession. She was very jelous and on the other hand my father was too friendly and had a wondering eye. My dad was a handsome guy and very happy all the time. I also know that he was an alcoholic and my mother would go with him to parties. When my mother was pregnant from me in Mexico I heard that he would not send her any money for my other brothers and that there were always rumors that he would be unfaithful and that his money would go on the happy life. I felt that I was in the way of them being together and that my mom regretted getting pregnant. I know it was a sad time for her.

I am not sure how old I was when she left me with my grandmother and she reunited with my father. I loved my grandmother. She was so loving and caring for me. Until one day when I was about 5 or so, I was told my sister and I were going to go to NY with my parents. (My sister was born 2 and a half years after me but that birth, my father was there to witness)

It is said in psychology that the memory blurs out what it does not want to remember. There are things I dont remember clearly and some that do. My most earliest memories I have of my life with my parents here is when I went to Jefferson school. I remember me not talking English and all the teacher knew how to say was "Casa" meaning to take whatever she was giving me home. I was really happy there because when I went home I felt like I was like a slave. I remember having to take care of my younger sister and be in charge of cleaning. Then I remember being afraid when my mother came home because she would yell at me for things not done in the house. Then I remember always in anxiety while around her. I was always counting my fingers over and over again. 

The only time I remember being happy was when my parents had friends over because they would bring their children and the adults would drink. I was not on her radar to pick on. All through the years growing up I always felt left out and neglected. One of the worst moments is when she tried to drown me in the toilet. It sounds funny to me now but it wasn't then. I do not remember what I did but what can a six year old little girl do to deserve that? I think it was my older brother nine or ten at that time who stopped her from yelling "Are you gonna do it again?!" I couldn't even tell my father because he never stuck up for me. His alcoholism made him guilty with my mother and so she always had the upper hand. 

I was a very quiet kid in school and all through my years growing up I always behaved as she wanted. Always isolated and feeling I did not rally count. My sister was her favorite. I was forced to play with her and sometimes my sister could really be a pain in the butt. The emotional abuse was worse because she would always tell me I was lazy and that I did not know how to do anything right. She always compared me to a neighbors daughter and made me feel so useless. I have found pictures of when I was in elementary school and my hair wasn't combed, I looked sloppy. I lied every minute under constant fear or anxiety that the next minute I did something wrong. I was always alone despite the fact that it was 4 of us at that time. 

I learned later in life from my aunts in Mexico that she would put my hands on the hot stove to punish me and take me cold showers because I was going poo in my cloth diaper instead of alerting her to take me to the toilet. I was too little to remember these things. But I do believe them. 

The unbelievable thing is that it lasted until I was 19 years old before I ran away with a thirty six year old. I couldn't take it anymore. My dads alcoholism was too much for me to count on him. It had been years of feeling I was invisible. It was a very lonely life. I only counted on God and always spoke to him. My mind is full of cobweb stories and crossed memories because I have tried to heal. I could not stand getting hit with all her might as a 19 year old. It was too much to bear. I felt safer on the street than n that home. I never had an I love you or a hug at night or a "Youre a nice young lady" I felt more like a pet.

Up to this moment I have no clue why she never loved me. I am sure I did come out of her body so I tried to understand why? One day I asked her why she named me Silvia and she said that my dad ordered her to name me Silvia because it was an ex girlfriend of his. How was I supposed to react to that? Was that true? Sometimes I feel my mother had mental issues that we were never aware of. My dad never said I love you either because she would get jealous and so he did everything that would please her.

Many years have passed since I came to the US and started a new life with my parents. I have tried to understand their lives at the same time I have tried to heal. I grew up loveless and feeling alone in this world and slowly with the help of God and the strength my son gives me, I feel I have come a long way. I do not take it personal anymore because I have learned that judgment can only be made by our Creator. I have understood that there must be many things I did not understand about them. Specially her whom I have no clue of what she carries in her heart. She is gone now and she wrote her story and so I have to write mine. It would be a waste of time to dwell on the past for  my future. 

I am now going to be 49 next week and I feel so peaceful within myself. I have made my life what I believe was right. I didn't have to live my life according to others. It's not easy but it is possible. Here and there sometimes I find myself remembering sad times but I know they are behind me. I guess that as long as I am alive they will be part of my life but it does not mean they rule me. It has been quite a journey for myself. To this day my nervous system suffers from anxiety and I think I have Morgellons where you feel like needles pick your skin. I just try to be happy and continue my holistic learning. Rarely I have bad dreams, and I just know they are residue leaving my body.

When I found World Pulse, I knew all this time I wasn't alone. It was a good feeling to know that there are many women out there who have overcome tremendous things in life. 

At the end of our lives, it doesn't matter what we overcame or not. I believe this life is like a school and an evolution for the soul to ascend when we are with God again.