Nightmares

Since my appearance on the Oprah show, I've had some memories eat away at me. This is not necessarily a bad thing. For too long I was silent about the abuse I received from my brother. Oprah's follow up to the Mackenzie Phillips interview was an experience I will always treasure being a part of. I held my silence for almost 40 years about the sexual nature of what went on between Bud and me. Yes, I was chronologically an adult when he seduced me. Yes, I knew it was wrong. However, I was no more capable of saying "no" than a child in the same situation. But that's not what I'm writing about here.

Around 4:30 AM this morning, I was awakened by a nightmare. I know what caused the nightmare. I know what triggered the memories that made up the nightmare. But it was still a nightmare and it still scared the hell out of me. So, here's the nightmare.

I was alone in my house. A neighbor girl came over and made a general nuisance of herself. She had a bunch of meaningless questions and I was getting tired of answering her. I sent her home thru the back door as the front door opened and my mother and brother walked in. My mom asked some questions about what I had gotten done while they had been out. I was very concerned because I realized they had been gone for a longer than expected time. My mom had gone to pick my brother up from work. He didn't want his car left on the parking lot of the store he worked at for fear it would get dinged by someone parking next to it. I asked, almost in a panic where they had been so long. I mentioned that I was worried about them, thinking something bad had happened. At this point, my mom and I are sitting in the family room/living room of our house. My mom responds that they went to check out the pictures. What pictures? I ask. My brother interrupts to chase me out of his chair. She tells me the family pictures that were being done specially. Why wasn't I told about these pictures? Why wasn't I IN these pictures if they were family pictures. I don't recall her exact answer but it was tinged with frustration that it was my fault I wasn't in the pictures. By this time, my brother is demanding to be waited on. I want more information about the pictures. I'm angry and hurt that I was excluded from these family pictures. My feelings are completely discounted. I remember saying that I might as well be one of Margie's grandkids for the way I was being treated. My mother's reply is, "Margie who?" I answer, "Margie, your niece, your brother's daughter!" My mom is confused as to why Margie's grandkids would be in the family pictures. I say something to the effect that that's my point. Why wasn't I included?

I awoke in tears, feeling completely alone and left out, abandoned by everyone dear to me. That is the truth of my life. Mom, who I desperately loved, cared more for my pervert brother. He was the important one. His needs and his desires always came first. On a certain level I know my mother loved me, but in my heart I always sensed that she would always put him first. He knew he came first. He expected everyone to adore him. In his own mind his needs and his desires were more important than anyone else's.