Tuesday, August 15, 2017

A new beginning...

Our now small family of four left England and flew to Canada for a new start....away from my grandfather but also leaving behind everything I had ever known and all my extended family, including my grandmother who I loved dearly.
As we touched down and dis boarded the plane I remember being struck by how big everything was...and the sky seemed to never end!  Our first home was a cottage on Lake Erie, which suited me fine! It was right on the water and I swam everyday that I could.  My parents made new friends and even they seemed big...larger than life! We were surrounded by nature and even a huge deer head hung on the wall over the fireplace and we used him as a drying rack for our unmentionables and bathing suits!
Not everything was rosy though.  My sister and I were teased terribly for our English accents, and that made it hard at school.  Even some of the teachers seemed to be unforgiving of our cultural differences, such as using the the term naught instead of zero, lorry instead of truck, and our English penmanship was vertical in nature which was also wrong! Canadians slanted their writing, so we were chastised for all these errors, and subsequently teased.
There was another thing that had followed me to Canada that had resulted from my abuse at the hands of my grandfather and that was sexualized behaviour, totally inappropriate for a girl of 8.
My parents not knowing what I had endured found this to be quite repugnant and I felt their disapproval but didn't quite understand it. I thought that I was "bad" and I suppose I was, but I was confused at the same time. Why was I different from other children my age? Why was I so out of place. I had no way of understanding that my experiences with my grandfather had changed me forever.  I didn't think the same way as other kids my age and the older I got the more apparent that was.
Once, at school, after being teased relentlessly and pushed and shoved to the ground over and over again, I attacked my perpetrator, threw her to the ground one recess and proceeded to tear off her clothing and throw it over the fence! It must have been awful for her but I was so enraged that I lost control and that was my revenge...totally inappropriate and I paid a hard price for that! I was attacked even more after that, being thrown onto gravel and dragged, being chased on my bicycle and thrown off into the ditch and beaten. Their revenge was unrelenting and by the end of that year we moved to a different subdivision and a new school. A relief but new bullies were ready to take their place and they did so with gusto!
It took some years to settle in but I did and had "boyfriends" in grades 4 -8, but something else happened by the time I was 12 that changed the game again.
My grandparents had decided to emigrate to Canada as well, and their arrival resulted in a new round of abuse, and a new perspective on my relationships with my family.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

I pretend I'm sleeping...

At some point my mother, my sister and I, are staying with my grandparents in their apartment back in England. At night after getting ready for bed we're tucked away in bed and Angela's breathing gets slower and slower while mine speeds up.  I wait, knowing what's coming next. I finally fall asleep but waken to the sound and smell of breath on my face. Tooth powder and soap, strong smells cover my nervous body. He's here again, touching me again. My body stiffens and I squeeze my legs together as hard as I can. I keep my eyes tightly shut so he thinks I'm asleep. He tugs at the blankets, wool and scratchy wool at that, I try to hold the folds around me clenching my fists on them, but he gets under the covers anyway and begins to stroke my little body. He starts at my chest, fondling me while the nausea fills my throat. Then he slowly moves down but when he starts to fondle between my legs I feign restlessness and quickly roll over. He stops...my breathing is rapid now and he knows I'm awake..he tries again but I make groaning noises and he stops again. Part of me is afraid my sister will waken, but another is terrified that she will. I'm so confused because as much as I felt sick with the wrongness of it, there was a part of me that enjoyed it and that scared me most of all.
He looms over the bed for what seems like forever, but finally leaves and I softly cry myself to sleep.
I'm not sure how long we stayed with them but the pattern never faltered and I thought I was going to have to tell my mother, but she was busy with my grandmother being ill, looking after her, and my father was in Canada so I didn't tell anyone. I was afraid of what might happen.  Would there be a big fight or would no one believe me. Where would I have to go? Too many things for me to ponder.
So it continued until my grandmother was better and my father came to England from Canada and we  were all going to live in Canada together without my grandparents.  I was sad about leaving my grandmother and my Aunts and cousin Penelope and my dear Uncle Stan...but it was a relief to be separated from my grandfather.

Monday, August 7, 2017

Car rides and boiled sweets

I'm older now...I'm not sure how old, but I'm going to school with my sister now, at the convent, and there's another girl on the car that I'm not sure who she is but goes to the same school and rides with us.
For some reason my grandfather picks us up from school, and I'm not sure why but this happens more than once, it is a repetitive scripted event that makes my stomach churn. It starts with the arrangement in the car. My sister and her friend always sit together in the backseat leaving me in the front seat with my grandfather. As we're driving, my grandfather offers us all boiled sweets that he keeps in a tin in his glove compartment which is in front of me. Of course the girls want sweets and I am instructed to get them out and offer them to the girls. It is at this point that the plan begins to take shape.  In the moment of offering the sweets I have to physically twist around with the tin and hold it out while they pick. During this time my grandfather slides his hand up my school tunic and to my panties. I am terrified that my sister is going to see what's happening and just want to throw up while he massages my thigh enjoying the whole situation. It only takes a few minutes for them to pick their sweets but it feels like hours. Once they pick I quickly push myself back into my seat and away from his grasp. He tells me to take a sweet which I dutifully do and then he says, speaking to us all but staring at me..." Say Thank you", the girls chime out "thank you" but the words stick in my throat along with the vomit I'm now swallowing. He pursues it again and finally I manage the words and he smiles knowingly at me.
This event plays out enough times as to make is a repetitive and dreaded activity rather than a shocking one time experience. Each time he picks us up it is a dreaded event, evoking nausea and anxiety, wanting to escape or scream but somehow I'm trapped by his stare and the knowing this is secret, wrong, but I'm in it with him. I can still smell the tooth powder he uses and the sound of his breathing which changes whenever he is doing these things to me.  It's disgusting, and I am ashamed. To this day I haven't discussed all the things he did to me with my family and it's partly because I'm afraid of their reaction. Will they believe me? Will they think badly of me? In therapeutic sessions I've been able to share most of my experiences and received support from my therapists but it still feels like it's a secret in a way.
Secrets are bad.
Secrets keep you trapped.


Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Scaramucci is GONE!

Trump and  Saramucci break the record for most short lived communications director of all time! Just 11 fun filled days and the stinking fish head is gone! What a shock it must have been for that narcissistic showboat to find out he had sold his business and given up all ( including wife, although I think she gave him up) to find his career cut EXTREMELY short...11 days...11DAYS...and they were long days at that. He consumed the MSM for the entire time with his brash and totally inappropriate behaviour...much akin to his boss who he love, love, loved!! This bromance could have gone on a lot longer had it not been for the incoming chief of staff who I'm certain said him or me! Plus it has been mentioned that, much like Spicer, ScareY Moochi was having entirely too much air time than the president!
Well here's to the Generals, may they serve well and long in this administration and may they put trump into a veritable choke hold until the end of his presidency in 3 1/2 years or sooner!