Consequences: Ignorance is never bliss.

Yesterday was a day filled with consequences for someone I love.

It was a very challenging day for me because I helped them to sort out the mess. This brought up so many emotions for me - anger, sadness, disappointment, resentment, incredulity, empathy, compassion, fear, guilt, deep concern....

It got me thinking about the consequences of my stepfather's actions in a different way.

For me, I was taught to be responsible for others over and above myself. To ignore what I was thinking, feeling, screaming out inside my head for the 'good' (ha ha) of other people - or, in other words, to keep them 'comfortable'. So, I was to never speak out about my stepfather's alcoholism and abuse because that would have upset and angered everyone. I was to never speak out about how hurt, angry, devastated, depressed or in despair I was in case that made other people uncomfortable. The truth was to be hidden at all costs.

And, very importantly, I was not to tell any of these upsetting things to my mum. She was to be the last to know anything bad. She was somehow fragile and needed protecting from the world and all of its horrors because she would not be able to cope with them (so my stepfather told us so often and in so many ways). Without ever a word spoken between us about it, one of my siblings or I would take it in turns to keep my stepfather at the table in his drunken state so everyone else could escape and/ or comfort my mum.

Of course, there were times when she would try to get all of us out of his way (I remember her once begging me to go upstairs before he got home because she knew he was already drunk and foul-tempered). But in the main, I remember us trying to protect her. I remember lying to her on so many occasions when she asked me if I was ok. Or when she asked if I thought the bile which emanated from him when he was drunk was really the truth of how he felt about us all. I always tried to reassure her that it was just the drink talking and that he loved her really. I feel guilty about that.

The consequences of us all having bought into these lies have been profound. For my mum, she got into the role of a victim who needed protecting and keeping in the dark. She has consequently hidden the truth from herself about really important things - aside from the abuse - which are having a massive impact on her life right now. She has hidden her head in the sand because that's where she learned to put herself - to keep herself comfortable and protected (at least in the short-term). She could not face the truth and we all bought into the lie that everything was fine: we kept ourselves in the old roles. Even yesterday, I was trying to reassure her and to keep the full impact - certainly of my emotions - from her so as not to frighten or upset her.

This is very distressing - to think that I and my family are still caught in this destructive behaviour so deeply. And it's also very illuminating. To see this pattern so clearly means it can change. And, of course, we wish to protect the ones we love and not cause them distress. That is totally natural. But sometimes, the intention to protect comes from a place which is not love. Sometimes it comes from learned behaviour, patterns of coping and comforting lies: a place of sheer destructiveness. And then, in the long-term, it's not helping anyone.

Love to you,

Lyra ♥