Therapeutic Release

by Sharla Porth about a month ago in trauma

My life of regret, pain, remorse, sorrow and repentance...

Therapeutic Release
Photo by Stefano Pollio on Unsplash

If I could, I would go back to being a young teenager and know what I know now. That's probably what a lot of people think but I literally dream of it.

I was 9 when my dad passed away of lung cancer. We were already separated from him and lived many hours away. I say "We" because that's how it felt - like my 3 sisters and I were pulled away from dad and his family when mom left him. I am 3rd in line and at 5 years old I really felt like I took everything the hardest when we moved away and then dad got sick and died shortly after. I remember feeling like if we hadn't left he would still be alive. I held resentment toward my mom and I didn't like her boyfriend so I rebelled. I'll get to that later.

Looking back now in my 40's I know that we all dealt with some pain and fears of dad's death just in different ways. My oldest sister was so smart she never had even study to get A's in school but I do remember her going through turmoil at some point and drinking as a teen, a lot. She came out on the other side now as a teacher and well respected and liked.

Second oldest was my sister who is just a year older than me. Her and I always fought. She was a girly girl and had a lot of friends, the popular girls, the sometimes mean girls. They had a way of making me feel like I wasn't good enough for them so I didn't like them. A few years back she went through breast cancer and had to have surgery which looks like they caught the cancer soon enough because she has been in remission since. She is successful in her career. We are still not close.

Younger than me by 4 years is my little sister. The "fixer" or the "helper". She wants to fix everyone but only now as she turns 40 does she realize that is a pipe dream and she started focusing on herself more. She's a nurse so I guess that kind of thinking is just embedded in her being. We used to be somewhat close but even we have become estranged.

I was 13 I think when I really started to rebel. I was the wild child for sure with spiked purple hair or even a shaved head at times, ripped up jeans and metal concert shirts. I was pierced many times over; 6 in my ears, my nose, my eyebrow, and later my lip. Some of which I did myself. I liked to feel pain. I failed my grade that year bc I didn't really care about anything . I hated my family and life at home was anything but nurturing. Mom was always preoccupied it seemed with her crafts or with her boyfriend, once they had my little sister things just got worse for me in my head. At 14 I was sent to live with my dad's brother and family whom I had spent a lot of lazy summer visits with. My cousin and I were only a year apart and I had so much fun on the farm with her but when it came down to staying there for the school year it was anything but fun. My aunt burned all my "cool" clothes and my cigarette's. The nerve! lol I was 14, did she not know I could run my own life? [groan] By the end of the school year I felt different, I kinda liked having rules and chores, but they sent me home. I always regret not fighting to stay there. I think things would have been so different in my life.

I was 15 , grade 9 (bc I failed grade 7) and I was back in my hometown, back to my old friends and rebelled even harder. I lost my virginity one night by a guy I had the biggest crush on and he literally "crushed me" by not wanting anything to do with me after. I was drinking even more now and staying out a lot or just sneaking out at night. I honestly didn't care about myself and my mom stopped chasing after me. Then I ended up getting myself into a huge mess- 15 and pregnant by a much older guy, he was 24. I honestly didn't realize what I was getting myself into and everything seemed to spiral out of control from there. One of my good friends found herself in the same predicament but her mom was sending her to live a an unwed mother's home so she could learn how to deal with becoming a teen mom and that's what I wanted so bad. I just wanted to run away. I went to my mom to tell her I was pregnant but she had a dilemma of her own; she had her tubes tied after the daughter her and her boyfriend had but it was 5 years later and she found out she was pregnant too. She told me to go figure out my own shit and deal with it, I moved in with the older guy.

All of a sudden I was 15, pregnant, living with a much older muscle brained guy, his brother and another friend lived in the trailer too. It was known as the "party place", after the bar Everyone went there. Loud music and partying went on through the nights. I couldn't believe I thought this was cool before I moved in there, when I was just hanging around where I shouldn't have been. He was not a very nice person when he drank either. A few incidents that stick out to me still are being chased around by him with nunchucks , him throwing darts or pool balls at my feet and laughing his evil laugh. Catching him trying to take other girls into his (our) bedroom. Or him being gone all night. After our daughter was born he kind of mellowed out but he was just lazy and got overweight bc he stopped working out but I was actually ok with that at the time bc his rage kind of subsided some. I came to find out years later that he and his friends were on steroids and cocaine so I guess that's where the evil came from. Through our time together he cheated with 2 of my friends and also a girl who I considered my enemy, I cheated with a friend of mine and also with his best friend in retaliation. How childish we were to go back and forth like that. 2 more kids and a marriage ended in disaster when I was 22.

We lived in a huge city and he played pool so he would go out in the evenings and come home drunk to argue with me. I was home with 3 kids but he always accused me of going here and there or seeing guys. One night ended in a couple black eyes for me. As always it was the "I'm sorry" and then I'd have to try get over it. He stayed out late one night shortly after this incident and I got the neighbor girl (our occasional sitter) to come over to watch the kids. I went over to the bar he usually went to but he conveniently wasn't there so I talked to the bartender and the few "friends" he played pool with and told them "See these black eyes?? This is what happens when he comes home drunk and mad! He takes it out on me!" They were shocked and everything changed after that. I went home and he came home shortly after. He was so mad. Accusing me of being out seeing other guys but I told him where I was and asked him where was he? I went to go to bed and he came into the room and flipped the whole mattress over with me on it, I remember him sitting on top of me choking me and head butting me while I struggled to get away. I could see down the hall that our oldest, who was only 4, took the 3 yr old and the 6 month old baby into her room trying to keep them away. I tried to get away but he pushed me into the closet where he had the shotgun and was saying "If you leave me you will never see the kids again" " If you want to leave me I'll kill you" He was literally in a rage. At some point I managed to get away, I don't even remember how, and I grabbed the phone in the kitchen and I remember him coming after me and pulling it out of the wall behind me as I ran out the patio doors to the garage because there was a phone on the wall in there to call 911. I managed to dial before he came outside so I dropped the phone and started running down the backlane. He caught up to me and carried me back in the house. At this point I was histerical but he was oddly calmer and was telling me what to say if the police came, they did, I did what he said and they left. I found out later that this happened just before the law came into place that in a domestic dispute one of the parties would have to be removed from the premises. He was gathering up some of the kids things and was telling me "We can figure this out." I was to take (the 6m old) and go home to my moms 2 provinces away and he would take the 2 older ones to his mom and dad's just outside the city. We would take a break and figure things out.

I took the bus to my moms with the baby, I sobbed the whole way as I worried about my other 2 kids. A few weeks later I was served papers saying that I had fled the province with the baby and I was to immediately return and face the courts.

More on that to come...

~I am writing all of this as a release of sorts. As therapy really. I'm hoping that in writing it all down I can get all of the regret, pain, remorse and sorrow out of my heart bc to this day it is still broken... Right now, my heart is racing, my anxiety is through the roof, I feel sick to my stomach and just need to stop for now.

Until later...

trauma
Sharla Porth
Sharla Porth
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