Pipe Dream Memories from a Traumatic Childhood

I always told myself I’d keep the past / my childhood to myself, to those that were there, and to those that have warranted themselves worthy. I’d only start to share my story to the public after you passed on..

However, when I asked you if you remembered a silly little memory, one that gave me a smile instead of a ping of pain, you replied, “Sorry but I don't remember that. Everybody can have false memories which can come from dreams and other things like that time you told me I pushed Scott, I'm sure that didn't happen because if it had he would of beaten the crap out of me. I can say that for a fact.”

Ah yes.. Something completely unrelated to bring me down to your level and make me feel sorry for you not remembering that period of time. But yes… I remember Scott.. a burley biker with long chestnut colored hair and an overgrown beard. He was one of the abusive men my single, broken, addict mother dated who I remember being like a teddy bear but treating my mother like trash. Oh mother… best believe I remember the fights in the living room in the middle of my Cartoon Network shows. Do you also remember when he kept my first lost baby tooth? Weird and endearing.. but anyways…yes . I remember that day.. when he walked out for the last time and slipped on the ice on the front walk. I remember that he split his head as I watched from the window fearing that he was severely injured while blood trickled down his face. Do you remember telling me to calm down without giving reason for why I couldn’t help and say goodbye? I’ll ask you later and see if you remember because it seems that you can only remember me saying you pushed him. I probably did say that in an attempt (as well as a first grader could) to relay fears of being left and abandoned. I mean who else could I blame for not ever having a father figure in my life outside of my grandfather… you.

You always chose the men and drugs over me despite my pleas for your love. (My fear came true often and started as soon as I reached consciousness.) I always knew how much you loved and sacrificed for me but the nights waking up alone (age 5-9), being left to my own devices during the daylight when you’d sleep off your meth-fueled nights, hearing your voicemail when I was convinced you were never coming back, having to live with the grandparents when you went to jail that one time and then again when you went to rehab… those moments I truly remember because I feel the shards of glass that stab me every time I recall..

When I sat you down and relayed to you these same memories + better/worse to bring you back to earth and make you see that the time we spent together wasn’t all flowers and rainbows as YOU remember. To let you know that I’ve done the work to heal, move past, and forgive.. Do you remember what you said? You said, “I don't remember that. I wouldn’t have done that. Everybody can have false memories which can come from dreams and other things.” That was 3 years ago.

Perhaps this is why I can only see my early childhood in fragments showing unsettling glimpses of trauma and brief moments of childish joy… I should have known to never bring up a past in which you’ll never come to accept. This is one topic you cannot attempt to gaslight. I remember.

Do you know that I was going to keep the darker stories from childhood to myself until you passed out of respect? Well.. I no longer fear sharing. I’m told that my childhood was simply only a pipe dream.. That’s so much easier to write and remember.