Hi Ladies!
I know that I don?t post here often, but this site really is special for me. It?s the only place where Alison shows her face freely, because I know the site is secure and that you all can be trusted. It?s nice to have a place where I can share this part of me, since there really is nowhere else for me to share it without causing great disruption to many lives. In that vein, I wrote something that I?m not sure where else to post, but I know that I can post it here and that many will probably understand what I?m talking about. Posting or sharing this otherwise might lead to a lot of questions that people really don?t want to know the answers to. So please read and hopefully enjoy, and know that your support means a great deal to those of us who walk this line.
I was going to post this in the Writer's section, but it's more of a confessional or outreach than it is a literary attempt. I'll let the moderators decide what's best.
All names have been changed to protect the innocent.
They?ll know I?m a Monster
My mother-in-law, AnnaBeth, was talking nicely about me one day at a family gathering, like she often does. My wife quipped in, ?She only says that because she loves you.?
In her usually chipper voice and with a big, almost-laughing smile, AnnaBeth responds, ?Of course I love you Cookie!? ?Cookie? is one of her terms of endearment for me. It could be because cookies are on the fence with sandwiches as my favorite food group. Or maybe she just likes saying it. I really don?t know, but I love her back. At least I think I do. I don?t really think about her often enough.
Answering my wife, I absentmindedly start telling the truth and say, ?Yeah, well that?s because she doesn?t know I?m really a Monster.?
This statement pauses the conversation a bit. I guess a statement like that requires some time to marinate. My wife is stone-faced. AnnaBeth breaks the silence, ?You?re not a monster! That?s just silly.?
Why am I in the mood for honesty right now? Not a good time, but Never is the only good time for sincere honesty about the Monster. I?ve tried to be honest about the Monster several times, with only a couple of people I know very well. They didn?t like the Monster at all, even though they only saw the slightest glimpse of it. Those glimpses were enough for me to know that I have a Monster inside me.
Like I said, I was speaking honestly and absentmindedly with AnnaBeth, and that continued as it can with me sometimes, although never about this. ?No, AnnaBeth. I really am a Monster. Maybe not all Monster. But a part of me is definitely a Monster.?
?Why in the world would you say that, Kenny?? She was using my name now, and she did that a lot too, so it wasn?t unusual. Her tone was still kind of playful, like earlier, but it had taken on a tone that betrayed a bit of worry.
?Because I know who I am. I saw Myra?s books.? Myra, my daughter, was in college as a Psychology major and she had textbooks, clinical handbooks, and psychological journals that characterized all kinds of behaviors and disorders. Anything that doesn?t fit the norm now is called a Disorder. There?s a lot of them. So many that I think it?s perfectly normal to have at least one Disorder. How can anything so normal be disorderous? Order has always posed a threat to me. Or maybe it?s more correct to say that Order has always imposed a threat upon me.
I continued, ?I saw Myra?s books, and I know who I am. I don?t lie to myself about who I am.?
?I know you don?t, Kenny. You?re too honest sometimes!? AnnaBeth really did love me.
?Well, the books all have me categorized as a Monster, in a group along with some really ugly monsters. I may not be the ugliest monster, but society would cast me as a Monster for sure. In the courts of Psychology, Psychiatry, and the Law, I am a Monster.?
?Have you tried talking to someone about your Monster?? she inquired.
?Oh yes.? I tried talking with my wife many times about the Monster. Like I said, I only showed her glimpses. She doesn?t like the Monster. At all. ?Althea knows a little bit about it, but when I talk to her it makes her think of other Monsters. She?s seen Monsters in the movies and she equates what she knows of what I do with those Monsters. But it?s not true.? Althea is staring at me hard now. ?It?s not true, but she thinks that part of me is a Monster, just like Myra?s books say.?
AnnaBeth looks really concerned now. I?m surprised that Althea isn?t interjecting or trying to stop me from my absentminded honesty. There must be a reason for that. She always has a reason.
?Piper has seen more than most and she?s open to talking sometimes, but it?s weird.? Piper is one of my other daughters. One time when I was trying to talk to Althea about it, Piper overheard and when she asked me about it I was honest with her. She?s seen more of the Monster than anyone else in real life, and she?s not scared. She?s not like everyone else though. I don?t really talk to her about it unless she brings it up because I don?t think it?s fair to burden her as the only one I talk to about it. She deserves to enjoy her own journey without bearing my load. And if she knew other things, she might rethink it all and decide that I really am a Monster.
?I tried talking to my brother once too.? It was true. I only showed him a teeny tiny glimpse. ?He said to me, ?Is this really anyone?s business? Does anyone have to know about this?? I told him, ?No?. He said, ?Good. Keep it that way.?? That was from just the teeniest, tiniest glimpse.
?Well,? AnnaBeth was searching for the right thing to say, knowing that it was impossible to find, ?Have you ever thought about getting help??
I had. ?I don?t want help. I love my Monster.? It was true.
?Well then, why don?t you set your Monster free??
She was so supportive! AnnaBeth is always so kind and understanding and insightful. I love her for that. But being Althea?s mom, I could never tell her the whole truth about the Monster. She would tell my sister-in-law and brother-in-law and everyone would freak sideways about it. It would cause a lot of drama, and heartache, and sadness. I don?t want to do that. Then I really would be a Monster, or at least a monster of my own definition (and not just everyone else?s).
?I can?t do that Momma.? Momma is one of my terms of endearment for her. ?They?ll know I?m a Monster. And everyone I know and love will leave me. Friends I?ve had since I was 5 years old will say they thought they knew me but they obviously didn?t. And I?ll be treated like a Monster. At best, I?ll be treated very differently and more poorly and with pity. Pity mixed with disgust and anger and resentment. If I were to make everyone I love to feel that way, even in the act of being true to myself, it would make me feel like a Monster."