I'm sitting here at work on what was supposed to be a relaxing "Pajama Day". I had requested today off far in advance for the National Crime Victims' Rights Awareness Week planning meeting, which I attend as the "token victim". It was cancelled. I also had a therapy appointment at 8:30a, which I cancelled the night before in preparation of the storm. Purdue even closed today for the first time since 2007, so Studdly Hubby and I were going to hang out and be lazy. Once I decided to get out of bed and get dressed (in fresh jammies), I took the opportunity to clean the bedroom up and organize some things that had been neglected. Once I finished that, I had been sitting on the couch for all of 2 minutes when I got a text that they needed someone to come into work to help cover phones due to call-offs and employees leaving to pick their children up from daycares that were closing early.
So here I sit, listening to the sleet raining down on us, attacking the windows and reminding me of decreasing safety of the roads. I'm hoping to leave around 4:30, although if it's too unsafe I'll have to sleep over in one of the assisted living apartments.
Since the phone is barely ringing, and there's nothing I'm able to do in the Business Office, I figured I might as well blog.
Something that has been on my mind lately is a couple early memories. It seems when I remember one thing, other memories often follow, relating to that same time period. In my last post, I talked about memories related to our home on Palmwood. As I was thinking about them, I remembered something else from that time.
I think my stepdad and I were home alone. I remember him closing the blinds in the living room. Then, I was sitting in his lap. I don't remember if my shirt was pulled up or taken off. He was tickling and kissing my chest. I remember giggling and squirming away from him. I didn't understand what was happening at that time. I do know that it made me uncomfortable.
Across the stree from us lived an elderly couple. I remember him being very paranoid about them. His paranoia was extreme by the end, although I don't recall if it was always that way. I firmly believe that part of it was mental illness, but on the other hand, he had something to be paranoid about. Perhaps the combination of the two was toxic. Perhaps it began around this time, when he started to abuse me and started to feel guilty.
I hate to admit it, but I do believe he felt guilt, at least in the beginning. Often he would come to me later or sometimes right after he ejaculated and apologize. He wouldtell me it was wrong and it wasn't going to happen anymore. He would instruct me to refuse him should I attempt anything again, but we both knew that it wouldn't make a difference. On Saturday morning, he would go to confess at his chuch and absolve his sins. In the beginning, the abuse was on rare occasions. He never even said anything about those that I recall. Later, he would go for 2-3 weeks between episodes. Later it was weekly. Eventually, it was every night. Once it became that frequent, he no longer repented, at least not to me. He still went to confession, although I can't imagine it was heartfelt at that point.
In conclusion, this post has been a complete hodge podge. The weather looks scarier by the amount, although I've just been informed I can leave at 5, and my boss can come get me in the morning with her 4-wheel drive if need be. Got a new memory out of my system, will a little guilt and paranoia sprinkled in for good measure.
Have a good night everyone, and please, be safe!
Rachel
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