Hi this is your boy/girl Derek back with another dope post on mental imbalance. (Pardon my attempt to sound hip. 😉) I hope you are all taking care of yourselves, both mentally and physically.
So, a couple of weeks ago, I dove into the fascination with serial killers, horror movies, and the true crime genre. See link below:
This week I am deep diving into families. But more specifically, how family secrets and turmoil can destroy your psyche and mental wellness.
I am just going to go there and state my own personal story. So hang on for a wild, yet possibly familiar, ride.
When I was about 20 years of age back in 1987 and home for summer break from UNC, my grandmother sat me down and told me the truth of what had been going on in our household for decades and, yes, since I was a child. What she would reveal would be so shocking and disturbing that it would destroy me and push me into indescribable anguish, torment, and mental illness.
This story actually goes back to the 70s. So, we shall start there.
I was absolutely fascinated that my grandfather worked at McLeod Plywood & Company in Wadesboro, North Carolina. For some unknown reason, I referred to it as “the box factory.” So, as a child I would go around saying that my grandfather worked down at “the box factory.”
So, natch, I was thrilled when my grandfather would take me there. And I believe he only took me there maybe once or twice, and I met several of his coworkers, including a woman named Millie Rae Johnson. Mille Rae seemed nice enough. I remember her having very dark skin and wearing thick, coke-bottle type glasses.
Well flashforward to the late 70s/early 80s. I ended up going to school with a kid named Zane Johnson starting in 6th grade in 1978. Zane was pretty quiet, but nice. I liked him, and that isn’t an easy thing for me to say about anyone I went to school with back then, especially anyone from the 6th grade. Let’s just say 6th grade was particularly tough for me.
Anyhoo, Zane and I would go on to become friends and classmates throughout junior high and high school, and we graduated together. As a matter of fact, we shared several A.P. (advanced placement) classes, especially in high school.
Now along comes Jason Johnson. (As you will see the Johnson name fits quite prominently in this story). I do remember Jason from junior high because of band. Jason also played the trumpet like me. And Jason was one grade above both me and Zane. And it turns out that Zane, though one year younger, was actually Jason’s uncle. 😱 Hey, it happens. Oh. And Mille Rae Johnson was Jason’s mother. I never knew how Zane was related to Millie Rae, though.
By the time we all got to high school, Jason and I began to get closer because of our shared band and trumpet connection. And by my junior year/Jason’s senior year, we were pretty tight. We shared so many laughs out on that marching field in Wildermuth Stadium, which figures prominently in today’s story, too. We played next to one another as a matter of fact. One of Jason’s favorite phrases was “the Gap Band” referencing the huge gaps in the clarinet section during practice when they weren’t getting the moves right. 😂🤣
Me in one of our MANY parades in Wadesboro.
But I digress.
And finally to cement this little picture that I am setting up, enter little Alexander. Now, Alexander was actually Jason’s younger brother and, therefore, also nephew to Zane, my classmate and the younger son of Millie Rae. And Alexander was one year behind me and Zane. So, at one point in both junior high and high school, all four of us were in school together. Me, Jason, Zane, and Alexander.
Did you get all of that? Okay. On with the rest of the story.
While I was close with both Zane and Jason, I wasn’t close at all with Alexander. As a matter of fact, I found Alexander a bit odd, especially his behaviour towards me. He didn’t call me the homophobic names the other kids had called me. I mean, he may have behind my back. But he just seemed to always try and ingratiate his way into my life, well at school anyway. Whenever I was around Zane and/or Jason, Alexander would sort of saddle up to me and try and have a conversation, but he always seemed rather glib, as if he knew something I didn’t. And boy would that turn out to be true.
The strangest of the strange came when Zane and I graduated from low school in 1985. It was tradition that the graduation ceremony was to be held in Wildermuth Stadium where we played all of our home games. And it was a very, VERY nice stadium! Huge! And I was looking forward to it. However, it rained, and the ceremony had to be moved to the gymnasium at the last minute. (One of the many reasons why I loathe rain to this day).
In the event of inclement weather, each graduate had only four tickets to use, because our gym wasn’t going to hold everyone whereas the stadium would. And my grandfather, aunt, mother, father and brother were in attendance. (Grandmother didn’t attend because of problems with her legs and her fear of climbing those stadium steps). But that would still mean one of my family in attendance wouldn’t be able to see me graduate. Damn! All those years of torture in school and someone was going to miss me getting the hell outta there. FINALLY!
However, everyone was able to see me graduate that night, because Alexander gave his ticket to my grandfather, which I thought was thoughtful, yet strange. Why would he do that? He didn’t know my grandfather did he? Well, I suppose so since he was Millie Rae’s son. I suppose they met that way. But didn’t that mean he would also miss out on seeing his Uncle Zane graduate?
So, now that I have set up the backstory, flashforward back to that dreadful summer of 1987, when my grandmother – as the Gap Band song suggests – “dropped a bomb on me.” She told me to get my senior yearbook, which I did, because she had something to tell me. I got the yearbook, and she told me to turn to the page that had Alexander on it. And so I did, but I had to ask why. My grandmother said something that would forever rock me to my core:
MY GRANDDADDY WAS ALEXANDER’S FATHER!!!
PAUSE. CRICKET. CRICKET. CHIRP. CHIRP.
WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID SHE JUST SAY????
“Whaddya deaf? I heard her from here!” (Golden Girls’ Sophia quote 😂😂)
My grandfather was actually Alexander’s biological father. Not only that, but there was a girl named Maddie, too, that was his daughter. I couldn’t believe what my grandmother was saying to me.
And Millie Rae, his coworker, was the mama, which meant my grandfather had had an affair with this woman, his coworker!!
My grandfather, who raised me, had been having affairs behind my grandmother’s back for YEARS!! And I never knew it.
When my grandmother found out all of this, she was LIVID naturally! As a matter of fact, she told me about a confrontation she had with this Mille Rae person on a shopping trip to Belk’s uptown Wadesboro. My Aunt Eva was with her at the time and from what I understand, she had to hold my grandmother back, if you catch my drift. LOLOLOL
Part of the hilarious exchange between the two, that my grandmother always told me, went something like this:
Millie Rae: You got any proof! You got any proof! [That the children are my grandfather Frank’s].
Costella: Yeah, them bastards you have to look at!
Ouch! My grandmother didn’t play, honey! 😂😂😂
Afterwards, it all made sense. The fights between my grandparents. (She went after him with a butcher knife, she threw hot water on him, and she went after him with a broom)!! The strange things that were said in that house, i.e. my aunt saying “if I ever see her in that car, I’ll snatch her out of it myself!” So, it turns out that this mystery woman who was going to get snatched was Millie Rae!
You see watching my grandparents go at it like it was the Friday night fights made me think growing up that that is what you do in a relationship, and so when I was older and in personal romantic relationships, that is what I did: I yelled and screamed. I resorted to harsh words, sarcasm, manipulation, and even physical violence! I was horrible. And I know that now. But I learned it at home.
Also, when I was a child and my grandfather and I would go somewhere together, upon our return, my grandmother always asked me “Did he take you to his girlfriend’s house?” I always thought she was joking. She always said funny stuff. But apparently she was NOT joking about this.
She even went on to describe in painful detail how he had inflicted her with syphilis on at least three different occasions!!! Dear GOD IN HEAVEN!! Perhaps a nearly 20-year-old me shouldn’t have been told any of this, but it was like watching my very own soap opera unfold in my own house right in front of me!!
Anyhoo, after my grandmother’s confession, I felt sick and stunned. And angry. Very, very angry with my grandfather. Putting all the pieces together, I realized why my grandmother was always on edge and fearful and anxious. And well, angry towards my grandfather. I always found it quite strange that she would just blow up at him for no reason. Well, now I knew the reason.
I hated my grandfather after that. I mean, there were other reasons to hate him before for the way he had treated me over the years. But this was the straw that finally broke the proverbial camel’s back, so to speak.
I felt betrayed. I felt that my life was a lie at this point. Though he was a mean sonofagun, I thought my grandfather was righteous, at least in his own way, and that he wasn’t capable of infidelity. Boy, was I wrong. I mean, he was the deacon of our church, and he kept his Bible open at his place at the table. Always.
And so, this was the beginning of me turning against religion. That fall of 1987, I left that horrible cult I was in. But it didn’t end there. (Please see the links to those posts below).
And I know. I know. “But it isn’t religion’s fault.” No, it isn’t. But I get so sick and tired of hearing how pious people are or try to act, and they have these skeletons in their closet. Just come out and admit you are human and, therefore, fallible like the rest of us. You are NOT God or Jesus or Buddha, etc.!!!
Starting in 1989, I came out. But I also began to dissociate from myself. I “split” into other selves much like Viki did on One Life to Live upon finding out about her father’s sins. I was a walking Three Faces of Eve and Sybil all rolled into one. And it was in 1989, that I started going out to the gay bars and calling myself Nick or Daryl.
My alters came about as a coping mechanism. I also drank a lot back then after finding out the truth.
I was a mess.
But I know that I am not the only one, because it happens when you believe your family life is one way when it is entirely different.
My grandfather would NEVER come out and admit to me what he actually did. It all came from my grandmother, whom I suspect could not take it any longer. You see all my grandfather would say to me about it is “I know I did wrong. But my family never suffered.” The hell we didn’t!!!! My grandfather’s double life caused such horrendous STRESS in our household. My grandfather’s sick secret damaged the mental wellbeing of our entire family, particularly my grandmother, my aunt, and me.
My grandmother was depressed. A lot. She seemed to be fine one minute and the next, she seemed to be quite the Debbie Downer. I often felt that she was just miserable, and I never knew why. I take that back. I even sensed as a child that my grandmother was unhappy because of my grandfather. And now I know exactly why.
My aunt to this day cannot handle the truth of what my grandfather did. She refuses to acknowledge it or even discuss it.
My father decided that he wanted to speak with his baby sister, the illegitimate one. So, he obtained her number somehow and contacted her. They met and had lunch or whatever, and I believe, according to my mother, met one more time because I think she and my brother were there. And according to my mother, it was a disaster because my father ran his mouth about all kinds of stupid, unrelated things. After that, my new aunt never contacted him again, and my mother believes it was because of him.
My aunt got on the phone with me one Sunday and told me about my father’s meeting with this girl, etc., and she just was NOT having it. She kept going on and on about why my father felt a need to dredge up the past. Apparently, both the son and the daughter came to the house in Wadesboro wayyyy back in the day, and my aunt threw them out. Oh and another thing, the story now goes that Alexander was NOT my grandfather’s child and, therefore, not my uncle. I find that hard to swallow, because when my grandmother pointed him out in my high school yearbook, she noted the resemblance to my grandfather, which was undeniable, in my opinion.
Living in that house, I thought the reason why everyone was so angry and miserable was MY fault. THIS IS ANOTHER ASPECT OF HOW SICK FAMILY SECRETS CAN AFFECT YOU!! You blame yourself.
My point is that keeping such secrets can make YOU feel sick. You feel out of your body, which is exactly what I felt back then, which led to me splitting off from myself.
And I am using this platform to tell all, because I am not protecting anyone’s secrets anymore, meaning my family’s. This is not about revenge, but to tell how this affected me and how it can affect all involved.
My grandparents are now dead, and I am sure those of you reading this are asking why bring this up now? My need to bring this to light is, again, NOT about revenge, but about healing. Mine. And my family’s. This revelation hurt me and my family in more ways than you can even imagine.
My overall point, if I haven’t driven it home by now, is that family secrets do NOTHING but hurt all involved. Discuss it. Talk about it. Admit you are wrong if you are the culprit behind or harboring a huge family secret.
And let me just say in summary about my situation, that if my grandfather had been totally transparent, I could have gotten to know my new uncle and new aunt. We could have all had a wonderful relationship all these years, but I was robbed of that chance. Could I contact them now? I could. But I really don’t see the point now. I don’t know. Maybe too much time has passed. Or maybe one day I will.
I have struggled all these years to forgive my grandfather, but it is very hard to do so because of the collateral damage.
I am totally ripping from the below article/source 5 Reasons Why Keeping Family Secrets Could Be Harmful. OMG! I fit every single one!!! Please read! As well as 7 Dangers of Keeping Family Secrets.
If you see yourself in this very revealing article, please don’t suffer alone. If you feel that you cannot cope or need to speak with a professional, then online therapy may be the way to go. You can do this in the comfort of your own home without having to get in traffic to drive to an office. Check it out by clicking on the link below:
Thank you so much for joining me on this very personal journey. I will be back next week with another article, about politics. YIKES! But in the meantime, as always, be safe and mentally well!
DEREK’S DISCLAIMER: I am not a medical professional, neither am I giving any medical or legal advice. If you are seeking help from a doctor or an attorney, please consult said professionals. These are my personal thoughts and feelings on the subjects discussed, and my blog is my own personal experiences and journey with mental imbalance. Thanking you in advance!
I do not own the copyright to any songs or videos listed here.
AFFILIATE DISCLAIMER: There are products on this page. By clicking on the links, you will be redirected to that page at no cost to you. However, I will receive compensation if you purchase something (which I hope you do 😊).
