The double-edged sword of trust

I remember the smell of whiskey on his breath when he brought the bible with him into my room. He enjoyed suprising me late at night. He would ask me to read to him, but often he was unsatisfied with my narrative. It always ended in pain when I couldn't please him. I was 10 and I had never gone to church, but I liked some of the stories I read to him. He used to tell me that his father wanted him to be a man of God, but instead he turned to drugs. He usually cried when he told me that. I heard it often. My stepmother had left months earlier to take care of my grandmother, she was dying of cancer. I think that made him very lonely, so it was good that I was there for him.

I had to tell a lot of lies back then, and I got very good at it. I would lie to my stepmom and tell her I was happy. I guess I figured if I had more time I could save him from the disease. Al-anon told me later that it was impossible, but I was much older by then. Wish someone would have told me that sooner.

Sometimes I made dinner for us, hoping it would fill him up and there would be no more room for anything else. It was quite challenging with no groceries. We had good neighbors though, they always made sure I had whatever I was missing. Sometimes my father would eat what I made, but mostly he would tell me how terrible it tasted before he threw it in the garbage. I guess kids aren't very good cooks...or maybe it wasn't as good as Jack Daniel's could make it.

I loved him very much, but I don't think I trusted him. He hit me a lot and it hurt for a long time. I often reasoned why I deserved it, and I came to the conclusion that I needed to toughen up. My friends would ask me to come out and play. I was too afraid to show them the bruises, and they stopped coming by after a while. Then kids at school said I smelled bad. That is when I decided to sit in the back of the class. We had a few cats running around in our attic and I think they peed on my clothes when they ran out of litter. They would sleep with me at night though, so I forgave them. Eventually, my aunt and uncle rescued me from that world. Truth is, I still live there.

See, I am wired to feel the darkness in everything now. I often think about changing that perspective, but I think it may require trust. Unfortunately, I've felt the blade of that double edged sword many times and I would prefer to just cover my bruises instead.