A History of Mon-Mon, Part 2
Posted by mmkeekah on April 4, 2007
Recently, two local (to my area) teenagers were charged with murdering a parent. You can read about the story here. The local community and the extended family are in shock over this tragedy, especially given the behavior of the deceased’s daughter in the weeks after the murder.
While I certainly don’t condone what happened to this mom, I think I have insight into how it may have occurred. Many of you are familiar with the death of my parents. Those of you who know me personally also know that I did not exactly have a traditional upbringing once my parent’s passed away.
My memories of my teenage years are not happy ones, and I rarely talk about those times. My legal guardian during this time was my eldest brother, and I believe that he did want to do right by me. But he was mentally ill and addicted to drugs. My past is filled with memories of drug abuse, abandonment by him at times and obsession from him at others.
I can remember wanting him desperately to disappear during those times. I longed to come home from school one afternoon and find him gone, never to return. I can also remember sitting by the window of one place or another, waiting desperately for him to return after days and days of not coming home. No one can ever imagine what I went through during those times – hating him but needing him, as he was my guardian and the only adult figure in my life at that time. There wasn’t another adult family member who wanted to take care of me and I was painfully aware of this fact.
Because I am strong, I did manage to escape my guardian the summer before I turned 15, though he remained my legal guardian until I was 18. And despite my bad times, there were – there still are – many other wonderful, supportive people in my life who loved me and showed me in their own way how valuable I was during those dark times.
When I was 25 years old and long away from his tyrannical obsession, my eldest brother told me that he often sat in our living room with his gun in hand, contemplating killing me while I slept in the next room. Then he thought about turning the gun on himself. Chilling, indeed.
But his confession did not surprise me. I was often awake myself those same nights, and I also thought about his gun. I thought of killing him and freeing myself from the misery and pain of our mutual existence. I dreamt of a world without him in it, and it was many years before I could forgive myself for those thoughts.
There are some wounds that never heal. Not even with time. Not even with all the love in the world.
So even though this story is sad, and the path these two kids chose is hard to understand – I find myself relating somewhat to these kids.
Most days you would never know that I came from such an existence. Most days I am the happy, well-adjusted adult you’ve come to know, appreciate, and adore (you know you do.) Sometimes I let those closest to me take a peek at those turbulent times, and if you ever hear a story from that time, then you must be someone I’ve really let in.
Heidi said
thank you for letting us in. i would like to hear more about your journey to happy well-adjusted adult. i’m glad you made it.
mmkeekah said
Thanks for reading. I will keep posting!
Gina said
Wow. I am so sorry you had such an unbelievably painful adolescence. I am beginning to wonder if anyone I know had a good adolescence. If you ever need a listening ear, I am here.
I am impressed that you made it to the other side and have turned into such a strong, beautiful woman in spite of the pain and darkness.
kiko said
What do you mean by obsession?
mmkeekah said
The obsession was really two parts – one was a child-like behavior that included pestering like you would expect from teenagers – following me around the house being annoying – singing snowball songs, telling grandiose stories that never ended or threatening to have me committed or sending me to an orphanage – and this would go on for hours and hours – to the point where he wouldn’t let me sleep. You know my brother and his behaviors so just imagine living with that 24/7 and never being able to get away from it. It was like he would think of ways to torture me for hours on end – mental torture.
The second part was his desire to be my hero and show our family that he was a decent, upstanding person. He wanted to be able to take care of me. He just couldn’t do it because of his mental illness and drug dependencies. You know our family and are initimately familiar with this type of behavior. Even after I left and tried to make a normal life for myself with other people, he would sabotage it. He came between J and L and me many times, and so I had to move out. When I stayed with friends, he would come by their houses at 2 AM and threaten the parents of my friends with litigation because he was my legal guardian – and I was just spending the night.
These are just a few examples.
I think in some respects he viewed me as his salvation – sounds big-headed of me, I know. But I just think he thought if he could raise me and show others what a good guardian he was, it would mean he was a good person. The problem was he wasn’t a good person. So that’s what I mean by obsession.
kiko said
I think Rich’s snowball and cecilia songs are his greatest contributions to society!
Seriously though, that’s heavy baggage for a 13 year old to carry. Now that we are adults, we can see it for what it was. Some call it bad luck, some call it fate. What we do with the cards we are dealt is what defines us.
A funny thing happens when you keep things bottled up though. You never get passed it.
mmkeekah said
I actually agree about the snowball songs – heh well except it really did go on for hours and hours. He would also take my name and make new nicknames for me – just lay on the couch and recite different nicknames over and over and over. He’d make me listen – follow me around and refuse to let me leave. These are actually harmless examples – ones I feel safe sharing.
I agree about bottling it up. I’ve never been one to bottle up – you should know that
But I admit that there are things that happened during those time that I’ve never discussed and I’m not sure I ever will. I can talk about the pain I felt, the stress I felt but not specifics.
I was never sexually abused by him. And he only hit me once – because I moved out when he did. I was 14 and there was no way I was going back. But he still had control over me for four years after.
I don’t think I dwell on it. But I’d be lying if I said it never bothered me. Especially when family tries to bridge the gap between my brother and me. I don’t wish him ill will, but neither do I have a strong urge to have him in my life.
kiko said
I think part of the problem is that most of the family is oblivious to what you went through, snowball songs withstanding.
mmkeekah said
I am equally sure that you are right. We have good people in our family. And they were dealing with the loss in their own right. I love my family – though I may not understand them.
It isn’t right to hold on to grudges and such – and I honestly don’t have that towards anyone specifically. My life at that time was what it was. I survived and more importantly I like who I turned out to be. I think I’m a good, decent, and loving person.
But I have my wounds that don’t heal. They aren’t festering either – they are just a part of who I am. And I like to share who I am.
Thanks for reading and participating. It actually means the world to me, Kiko.
kiko said
Cecilia, you’re breaking my heart
You’re shaking my confidence daily
Oh, Cecilia, I’m down on my knees
I’m begging you please to come home
Cecilia, you’re breaking my heart
You’re shaking my confidence daily
Oh, Cecilia, I’m down on my knees
I’m begging you please to come home
Come on home