Aug. 10th, 2012 03:15 pm
bouldersandbrews: (General Beatrix)
I have to call bullshit again.

A few weeks ago I got up the nerve to talk to my mother about the time when Dad was in prison. I'd been kind of afraid (afraid's not really the word, but it's the best I have) that I'd recanted and that was why he got out so early.


I'm not explaining this very well.

*goes to check if she's written about this already... nope*

Okay, let me try again.

So when I was eight or so, the truth about my father's molesting me came out, and he was sent to live with his mother for like a year or two while the case went to court. I only very vaguely remember this, by the way. All I really remember was that he was sent to jail, then got out really early (he did four years the first time, then for me he did a month and a half). Recently I went online to find the inmate records, and while there was a record for his time in Attica, there was no record of his having served any time for me. Upon further research I determined that there would be no record for jail time if the conviction resulting in jail time was overturned... and, in this case, that would be if I had recanted. Having been told that it was my fault he had been taken away and was in prison, this seems like it would be in character for a young, hypersensitive girl to do. Also, I had heard rumors that that was the story that went around the church as to why he'd gotten out so early. So I did the only thing I could: I asked my mom.

She said that she was fairly certain I hadn't recanted - I hadn't taken the stand at all during the case. So unless the DA entered a recantation for me, that wasn't what happened. Do I believe her? I guess so. I mean, I wouldn't necessarily put it past her to make this up so I'd feel better, but ultimately, perhaps it doesn't matter.


During this conversation, Mom said that when the case was in court, the judge asked her what she thought, and she asked him to let Dad come back into the home, because even with his flaws, kids needed a father in the home, and he was better than nothing.

I accepted this and went on about my way.

Until a few days ago.

I don't know what brought it back to mind, but something did. I was mulling this over, and -

Wait a minute. Wait just one damn minute.

Having a convicted child molester in the home is better than no male influence at all? With the fact that he clearly didn't learn his lesson the first time and a month and a half in jail isn't going to convince him any more than four years in two of the harshest prisons in America did, therefore there's a strong likelihood that he's going to do it again?

Oh hell no.

Therefore, my having to call bullshit. Her desire to have Dad back in the home had very little to do with me and Jess - if anything. It had far more to do with the fact that she didn't want to be alone and have to take care of herself.

...Who is this woman?
bouldersandbrews: (Freya - Rains of Tragedy)
I've been shying away from writing - from even thinking. I know this is doing myself an injustice, but I find it very difficult to face things that are painful.

Such as only recently discovered repercussions from my father's actions toward me. Thinking about it is painful. Remembering, analyzing, trying to be logical - painful.

But things have to be faced, sooner or later. Later seems to being about more pain - inaction does this, I've noticed.

I seem to love to debate whose actions were more damaging, my mother's or my father's. I'm getting to the point where I can't decide - they're in a dead heat right now.

I think I need to work on my memoirs some more.


Jun. 8th, 2012 04:40 pm
bouldersandbrews: (Default)
So I'm working on my memoirs. I'm just kind of wandering back and forth between subjects and points in my life. I'm working on the aftermath of my father's death, the breakup with Justin, and the resulting depression, reading through the journal I was keeping at the time, and I get to this:

Tuesday, May 28, 2002
posted by Amara at 11:33 PM
Okay, so, basically what I was getting at in that last post was, I wish I were married, because then he (the guy whom I'm 'destined' to marry, whom I'm sure I'll never meet, because he's either dead, not real, or taken already...we'll call him.......David) wouldn't think I was silly.

I goggled, yelled "WOAH!", then started coughing.

I am always astonished when I see things like this. This isn't the first one, either.
bouldersandbrews: (Freya - Rains of Tragedy)
I think about writing. I want to write. And then I don't. Why? Is it just sheer laziness? Am I uninspired? Or is it something else, something deeper?

I want to write my memoirs. For some reason I think I've lived a life worth memoirizing. (There's a word for you.) And yet I don't.

I think this is because of a number of reasons.

A - Writing about it makes it real. Like somehow as long as it's just in my own mind it's okay, but once it's been written down it's worse. I don't know.

B - Writing about it gives more people the opportunity to reject me. It's amazing, how petrified I am of rejection.

C - Writing about it makes me remember way more of it than I'd like.

D - I'm sure to piss people off. Lots of people will unfortunately have to be portrayed in a rather unflattering light (BECAUSE THEY WERE/ARE DOUCHEBAGS), and they will not like it.

But this is all overcome by this: I want to do it. I feel compelled to do it.


bouldersandbrews: (Default)
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