I was born in Indiana. My parents divorced very shortly after. My mother moved away to Oklahoma (or so I was told), and my father took a job on the road which let him unavailable for most of my life. Due to this I lived with my grandmother, my dad's mother. I lived with her until I was 3. On Easter Sunday my mother came to visit me. (It was the first time since I moved in with my grandma.) My mom never brought me back, therefore it was kidnapping, she did not have custody of me. My dad filed misdemeanor charges against my mother. For those of you who do not know anything about misdemeanor charges, if the case goes unsolved for a certain amount of time, the case is closed, shoved in a drawer somewhere never to be looked at again. Did I mention I lived in a very small town, popluation 4000, give or take a few.
So, after a few months I was put away in a drawer. I was living in Oklahoma with my mom and her new husband. Seemed nice enough, I was only 3, I can not remember much. However, I do remember a new man coming to visit and the strange behavior my mom took on. Let me explain: There were times where my mom would fake her own death. she'd pour ketchup all over her and lie on the floor in wait. When I would enter the room she would scream reaching her hand out to me and then pretend to die.
My mom and my step dad divorced and my step dad, Steve moved away with his and my mom's son, Rick. My mom then moved in with the 'new' man, Bob. That is when things started to get bad. They got involved in drugs and my mom began working in night clubs as a dancer. there were many nights when I would be home by myself until 3 or 4 in the morning, not knowing if anyone was ever coming back. My mom's strange behavior continued and escalated. Bob and my mom would drive us into the woods where my mom would tell me not to look out the window because the monsters might get me. sometimes she would go so far as getting out of the car and leaving for hours at a time. I would huddle in the back floor board very frightened. Often when she would do this she would come back screaming at the top of her lungs that the vampires were after her.
This is just a small portion of the emotional abuse I sustained from my mother. I do not know what was worse that or the hitting. I was hit a lot, everyday. I had chores, just like any kid, but my chores were difficult. My mom and Bob both smoked, it was my job to empty the ashtrays when ever they needed. Including 3 in the morning. If there was a dirty ashtray found I was drug out of bed by one arm and one leg, tossed to the floor and, well you get the idea. I, to this day bear the remnant of abuse on my face where a blood vessel was busted when I was 8 years old, by being punched in the face at 1 in the morning for the trash being full.
I did spend sometime in a foster home and shelters. I always had to go back though. you know those 'surprise' visits welfare agents make to homes of abused kids when they go back to their families? I will never forget the time I was emptying the dish-washer and did not know where a certain bowl went, (remember I was 8, and had been away from home for over a year), Bob got so mad he ran and tackled me to the floor banging my head on the ground. There was a knock at the door, "My savior," I thought. It was the welfare lady to do a check. Bob said to me,"you say anything and I will kill you." So when the lady came in I said everything was ok.
I am the oldest child of 6. My mother had me from my father. Rich from Steve, 3 kids from Bob and 1 son from her current husband. I have not saw Rich since Steve and mom's divorce. I did see Bob and his and mom's kids recently. Steve went to counselling and him and the kids are doing very well. My mothers new husband and son I have never met. I do not keep in contact with my mom at all. She is still in denial of what happened to me.
I had to go to a lot of counselling myself. there are so many things that happened to me. While in the foster home I was molested repeatedly by a 16 year old boy there. I told the foster family and they did not believe me. That's why i was sent back to my mom and Bob.
When I was 9 My mom moved back to Indiana with me and Bob. she went to a friend of my dad's and said she sis not want me anymore. the police came in the middle of the night to our home and took me away. I remember crying and seeing Bob holding my little brother in his arms and no mom in sight. apparently my dad didn't want me either because I moved in with my grandma again. I hate to say mean things about my grandmother because she took me in, but she was mean. she use to say that I deserved everything I got because I was a slut and good for nothing, and fat, and ugly. ( I do not need to tell you that after you hear these things so much you begin to believe them.)
I can not express to you the number of times I contemplated suicide. Or how many times I would sit next to my bed and cry wondering why no one loved me. I was being tossed from person to person and it seemed as if I always messed up. I am 5'10" and 125 lbs but I can't explain the grief I feel when I look in the mirror just sure that I am obese and disgusting. I know it must seem as though I am jumping from one thought o the next, but that's how it goes. I find it rather hard to conjure up memories, some have completly faded from memory. those that do still exist only come out when they want to.
At 12 I saw my mom again, and was happy. (she was my mom and I loved her no matter what) I spent the summer with her and the three kids her and Bob shared. Then one night she up and left int he middle of the night. bob took on a job from 3 am to 3 pm. I stayed home and took care of a 5 year old a 3 year old and a 1 year old. It took a toll on me and I had to go back to my grandma's.
I lived with my grandma for 2 more years, until I was 14, when my dad's sister found that my grandma's environment was no better for me than my mom's. I moved in with my aunt. There I was treated well. I own so much to my aunt and Uncle for taking me in. They gave me the strength to see my self as I really am. Strong, beautiful, intelligent, caring, ect ect ect. there is so much more to me than a punching bag.
I am 21 now, almost 22. I am married to the most wonderful man in the world. We have a puppy, named Maggie. My life is good. This is not to say day's aren't hard for me, But everyday it's getting better.
 FPCA Home |
 What's New? |
 Me Help? |
 Links |
 Picture Page |
 Guestbook |
