Dissociation, they say, is a symptom for post traumatic stress disorder. That good-ole protective defensive mechanism in your brain that allows one to "zone-out", separate the consciousness when the trauma is more than the mind can handle. Supposedly, I never learned self-protection because I was never taught self-protection as a child so the mind "shuts out" or separates itself from….. well, shit that just ain’t right and should never happen.
But what do "they" know, anyway? According to my mother, a stick-your-head in the sand, show-no-feeling, ignore-it-and-it-will-go-away mentality is the best way to go. At least that’s the impression she has always given. No feelings, no emotions, no "I Love You’s", no affection, no compliments, no words of encouragement. Yea, that’s my mother, Lynda. To handle life any other way is doing it wrong at which point you’ll get sentences thrown your way that always, & I do mean ALWAYS, start with "you should" or "you should’ve". Knowing this, one might understand why, when, after 30+ years of keeping this secret, mother had the reaction she had. It’s not quite the reaction I wanted. Or needed. But, it’s exactly the reaction I expected. From her. Personally, if my daughter ever came to me with a secret like this, I would have felt my heart tear in half, I would have held her in my arms & then I would have had only one purpose in life: to exact revenge. Justice.
Before I get ahead of myself, let me introduce myself. I am Veronica Essiker, wife, mom & grandma. I’m Italian & Hungarian and was born in New Orleans . I lived a "normal" childhood, so to speak, until I was 10. I am the middle child of 5. I have an older brother & sister & 2 younger sisters. My parents are divorced though still alive & kickin’. I have two grown daughters who are like night & day & I sometimes have trouble believing that I could actually create such beautiful works of art, not once, but twice! Their father was a man who I credit with saving me from my twisted family and we were together for almost 20 years. But his "ways" & "views" were not something I could live with. He thought he was above consequences & could cross the lines of marriage whenever he felt like it. He knew no loyalty & that’s why he lost me. He thought I was nothing without him and he was a success who would survive without me. That my life would go downhill, not his. True, I didn’t think I had what it took to survive on my own. But there came a point where he became too confident & cocky that he could do anything & I’d never leave but by that time I was determined I’d had enough. I didn’t care if I lived in a cardboard box on skid row. In the end, HE was the one that couldn’t survive without me. He crumbled, completely. Emotionally, physically, financially, morally, reputation & status, too. Sad, really, but he has no one to blame but himself.
The most important qualities a person can have, in my eyes, is loyalty & authenticity. I hate two-faced people. And above all, I have no tolerance, or mercy for that matter, for people who stupidly think they have the right to judge others. The fact that think they are golden & we are ugly on the inside when, in my opinion, THEY are the ugly ones internally because they strangely don’t think they’re screwed up in any way or flawed. Ten times out of ten, fools who judge never have a leg to stand on & have this unrealistic view of themselves as being "better than" and have never learned, or accepted, the fact that humans are just that….human. And ALL humans make mistakes, bad choices & decisions & wrong moves throughout their lives. We all have flaws. Judging others is one of them. And that’s a huge flaw of my mother’s.
I may not share that flaw with her. Thank God. But I have plenty of my own. I may have street smarts. I may have book smarts. But I ain’t got the common sense God gave me. I wish I did. I’ve always had a self-destructive nature. Supposedly, in my attempt to internalize the trauma from my childhood, this self-destructiveness was my mind saying "girl, you can TRY to stuff this down or put it in the back of your head forever & hope if just goes away, but it doesn’t work like that. If you don’t deal with the pain & the trauma, it’ll come out in other ways & then one day, years from now, it’ll force it’s way to the front burner & it’ll force it’s way into your constant thoughts, 24/7, & you’ll have to deal with it once & for all before it destroys you. It’s now or later." Wish I had dealt with it then. But I only 11. And had no one to turn to. No one to tell who could or would do anything. So, I stuffed it down, endured it & tried to forget about it. But over the years I’ve learned those things are NOT an option. The only way to heal from it is to deal with & come to terms with it. There will never be forgiving or forgetting in this "dilemma".
The bottom line is this: I have to heal. I tried to do it mom’s way but 30 years into it & still no relief from the nightmares, the pain, the anger, the jaded, disillusioned outlook on life, the self-destructive behavior, the lack of trust, makes me purty darn sure it’s time to do it another way. Mom’s way of "stick your head in the sand, quit being dramatic, keep it to yourself, how embarrassing, we got better things to do than deal with your crap" didn’t work. I’m tired of spending my life haunted by what happened to me for those 3 years. Of it "defining" who I am, how I react to things, the characteristic traits I have due to it & the pain from it. I can’t worry about stepping on anyone’s toes anymore, or embarrassing anyone or hurt feelings.
I have carried the "Soulripper’s" secret around on my shoulders for 30 years & it has weighed me down tremendously. Why am I worried about protecting the one I needed protection from, after all? Fear? People judging me? Looking at ME differently? Stirring up negative shit? I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. Especially the selfish ones who care more about how they might look than my emotional well-being. Not anymore. They weren’t there for me then & they’re not there for me now. The only one looking out for me is me. I was taught that very early on in life.
The bottom line is to deal with it, heal from the scar my "Soulripper" left on me, accept that I’ll never be able to change what happened. In the words of Marshall Mathers: "I’m cleaning out my closet"!
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"Seems you’ve been handed a dilemma that has followed you through most your life, gypsy. It’s time you stop running & face it head-on. Here, sit down & drink some dilemonade. I made it fresh this morning."
"But I’m afraid."
"Who you kidding? You only think you’re afraid. I’ve never seen you scared of anything but yourself. You don’t even see that, do ya? Fear don’t scare you. You have the courage. You lack the confidence. And, you have the right. They didn’t! Drink up! And go take back what they robbed you of!
"Dilemonade….. And I thought I was ate up!"

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