Found this moth the other day, the pic does not do him justice, he was huge and pretty, like a black and white photo that you can't stop looking at.
The moth is just a positive start to my posts, because some times I just need to start on a positive note.
On to the real topic… I find myself not sleeping nearly enough most of the time. My mind refuses to shut down and let me rest. I often think about the things my husband has done and what he has not yet told me about.
Today I also remembered some really bad things about my mother. Years ago my cousin came to live with us because she had had a mixed race baby and her parents were at their wits end with her. The baby was the last draw, she had been in and out of group homes and foster homes. She is the person who introduced my brother to huffing. I know this because the day we picked her up I was instructed to go into her bedroom and wait with her while the adults talked, I was in her room for less than 30 seconds before she was telling me, trying to show me, how to huff deodorant and get high. I was very clear with her that I didn't want any part of it. It was not to many months after that day that my brother was starting his spiral into addiction.
During the time my cousin lived with us she turned 18 and my mother and her went and took her baby back from her parents. It wasn't long before my parents adopted her baby.
During this time my mother was not nice to my cousin, she made her cook and clean and work nonstop like a slave. At first I was relieved to not have to do it all, but I quickly realized that my mother was abusive to my cousin. I have always had a lot of guilt about my mother's abuse of my cousin, I was 12 years old and had lived through my fare share of abuse, but I also knew that the abuse my cousin was suffering would have been mine to bare if my cousin had not of moved in with us.
My brother and his friend were happy to have my cousin around, she liked sex and would sneak up at night and have sex with them all the time. Before long she was pregnant. The pregnancy is another story for another time, but the basic issue here was that one night my mother caught my cousin coming out of the bathroom and my brother in the bathroom completely naked. My mother twisted it into my cousin peeping on my brother. Twisted or not my mother had to question who was the father of these soon to be born set of twins.
Which brings me to the things that were on my mind today. My mother always said it don't hurt the baby to back hand you in your face. She believed this and smacked my cousin often. On this particular day my mother was a war path, the pregnancy had taking a bad turn, due to my cousin huffing what ever she could get her hands on one of the twins had died and the doctors did an emergency C-section to save the remaining twin. Just days later, with staples in her belly and doctors orders to rest my cousin was being forced to cook and clean. My mother was beside her self because she knew there was a possibility that her son had fathered those twins, one of which was now dead. Before long my mother's yelling and cussing at my cousin turned to my mother hitting and punching my cousin. At one point my mother punched her so hard in the face that my cousin's tooth put a gash in my mother's knuckle. My mother of course blamed this on my cousin and became even more enraged. I was holding the baby just outside of the kitchen door, I needed a bottle for him but my mother was in a rage, my cousin was in the kitchen floor crying and my mother was smacking her around because my cousin refused to tell my mother who the father of the twins was. My cousin most likely couldn't tell her she had been sneaking around and sleeping with my brother and his friends, she probably didn't know who it was. But my mother was not willing to hear this, instead she began berating my cousin for causing this gash on my mother's hand, my mother pulled open a drawer, grabbed a rolling pin, forced my cousin's hand on to the drawer and drew back the rolling pin.... I yelled at my mother which made her turn and look at me, I said "this has gone to far, you can not smash someone's wrist because they don't do what you want" my mother looked at me as calmly insane as could be and said "well she broke my knuckle so I am going to break her hand " I some how managed to get my mother to stop I can't recall how I did that though. I just know that if I had of not stepped in my cousin would have probably never used her hand again because my mother was in a rage and really didn't care how her actions affected anyone besides her and her son.
This wasn't the only beating that my cousin took off of my mother, but I do think it was the worst and the one that stuck with me my whole life, it is the reason I flee when I am mad, why I tell people to go away and leave me alone, the reason why I push people away instead of talking about my feelings... I never want to be that person that is so enraged that I loose control of my senses and beat someone like my mother did. I often feel that rage, I often think I could easily hurt someone, but I ALWAYS leave, I go away from who ever I am mad at and I stay away until I am calm and rational enough to control my own anger. I never will allow myself to be the abusive person that my mother was and I often wonder what happened in her life to make her that way?