Back to the Beginning Part 2 and letting go

Back to the beginning part 2 and letting go....

This goes back to the previous blog about my childhood.   Today I am ready finally to forgive and move forward I think.   Starting to think about this stuff I have become a little emotional and my co-worker just said are you getting ready to blog because you are jittery.   I don't want my past to become my future and I can't get to the future without dealing with the past so here it goes, jumping into the deep end of the pool hoping I can swim.

My sophomore year was probably one of the toughest years of my life.   Even in retrospect of where I am today and everything I have been thru.   Volleyball season that year went well.   I was on the varsity team and even managed to play well enough to earn a couple of all tournament teams.   Volleyball for me was just something to do until baskleavetball started.   The summer prior to my sophomore year I began attendndarieseed toing basketball camps and practicing everyday in my parents driveway.   I loved to play anywhere at anytime with anybody.   This particular season there were high expectations for us and for me.   We had probably 3 gals who could score 20 plus points a night.   We played well together on the court but not off the court.  I felt really alone.   My own class didn't want to hang out with me because we really had nothing in common and the seniors that year were not about to take me under their wing.  Essentially it was every gal for herself.   It was amazing we played as well as we did.   This was the first time I had a coach get on me about my weight.   He was all about the number on the scale and wanted me to be 10-15 pounds lighter.   So between volleyball and basketball  I began to starve myself for lunch and then after supper I would go into my parents basement in full sweats with hood up and run, jump rope, step ups whatever I could do to sweat and purge what I had eaten thru exercise.   For some reason my parents refused to see or didn't want to see.   I was withdrawing further and further into my self.  As soon as basketball started I made a deal with myself to stop starving myself.   I started eating again but depression had sunk it's teeth into me and I had no idea.   I went to my coach to talk to him about how to relate and talk to the seniors on the team but he didn't want to deal with it.   The team was winning.   I spoke to my parents and they offered to get me a cat if I would just quit complaining, shut my mouth and just play.   Oh yeah and keep getting straight A's, go to church youth group and be a model citizen in everything I did.   I was starting to attract attention from college coaches and letters started coming and a few phone calls.   I was barely handling the pressure I was under without adding recruting to the measure.   I was cracking quickly with no sense of suppport from anyone.  I had a trusted adult who worked at one of the other schools in the district and although I don't remember how I even contacted her or how she knew I needed help.   I would call her collect in the middle of the night and just talk.   I didn't want my parents to find out I was using the phone because I was afraid they would prevent me from talking to her.  I can still see it in my mind as I sit at my desk here at work---I am back in my bed at my parents house, it is the middle of the night, I am awake.  The thought in my head is to get up walk to the closet in the hallway, open the door get the tylenol bottle on the top shelf and end it all.   I have no idea why I never got out of the bed.   Never made it to the hallwayand never to the closet for the tylenol.  This is getting pretty emotional for me right now.   My heart is racing.   I am thinking can I just put this in denial in my brain but I know I can't now if I want to get better.   I thank and praise God for being there and providing me with MW who never failed to answer a collect call from some kid in the middle of the night.   I never got to say thank you too her.   Thank you MW,   thru you God saved my life.(the impact of what I have written is tremendous on my heart and I am holding back tears)    

The rest of the season went well for the team.  We made it pretty far in the tournament.   After we lost I let loose in the locker room with tears, uncontrollably.   I could no longer keep it in.   I managed to get composed before heading out of the locker room and my parents never asked what was up.   Well that year I was named to the All State team.   I went to a bunch of basketball camps in the summer.   I went to the weight lifting program at the high school withthe football team(there was no organized girls weight lifting.)   I shot baskets, did ball handling drills and condition almost everyday.   You see I still loved the game.   My junior year was okay.   The team was not as good and I was expected to carry more of the  load.  More recruiting letters and calls.   At that point I was so focused on my goals of being a college Division  I athlete that I didn't need anyone besides what was the point, no one was really there anyway.    My parent's expectations of perfection for me hadn't changed I supposed I just became numb to it and it didn't seem to bother me as much as the previous year.   Well this team didn't go nearly far enough in the tournament and I was blamed for the loss from my coach in the lockerroom after the game.   I guess he thought I took a game off when I have never taken so much as a practice off giving less then 100%.   That was heart breaking to me but it also fueled this superiority complex I was beginning to have.   You see I thought I was special because people wanted me to come to their school, I was doing interviews in the paper and radio, and I was extremely well known in the town.   I used that I suppose to fill the emotional void. I bought into the system of peoples worth being dependent on what they do well.   I am special because I am a good basketballl player.   That all came crumbling down my senior year.   I had a significant knee injury that ended my season right after Christmas.    Surgery was necessary.    My parents wanted me to play a few more games so I could break the boys scoring record.  I already had the girls record and was 17 points away from the boys.   When I hurt me knee it was so painful that I felt like my lower leg was shot by a cannon.    There was no way I wanted to feel that again so I said no way I am going to have surgery.  I didn't really care about the boys record anyway I just wanted to have my knee fixed and get started on my rehab.    You can imagine that having my identity wrapped up into a game that I could no longer play sent me into a deep depression.  I was no longer "special".   God again brought someone into my life to help me.   My PT was a Christian and without knowing it she helped me keep my head above water while I was rehabbing my knee. Basketball had become such a business that I no longer had any desire to play.   The recruiting and home visits and campus visits, my mom recording every point I scored in a notebook and rehashing every play of the game and free throws missed.   That was the last game I ever played competitively for a team.   I had enough.   I informed my parents about my decision to not play in college about 3 week before I was set to leave for college.  Their reaction was classic and I think I have blogged about previously.   They decided not to pay for any of my college because I was making the biggest mistake of my life.   Once again left alone and on my own.   

It is time I forgive them.   I have serious doubts that we will ever reconcile to a relationship that I desire.  But I need to forgive them to move on and with proper boundaries continue to have a relationship.   So mom I forgive you for not giving me the emotional bonding that I needed and for demanding perfection when it was something I could never measure up too. I forgive you for turning me against a game I loved and I forgive you for never being the mom who could be there for me when I needed you the most.   I am sorry you will probably never get to know the real me.

Dad,   I forgive you for your management of our family with your anger and being scared of you.   I forgive you for being a work a holic and not having enough emotionally left for your family at the end of the day.   I forgive you for not being there for me emotionally when I needed you the most.  I am truly sorry that you may never see the real me but I still hope in you Dad.  Your little girl still needs you to fill the emotional hole that has been created.