May 30 2014
Another one of the rare subjects I speak about on here is my family, my fucked up dysfunctional family. I was initially going to title it "and Exs" But I think our Ex's is a WHOLE other can of worms, so today, it will be just our families. Mine to be specific.
In case you didn't know, I wear rose coloured glasses. The cup is always half full, and life is always good! That's me in a nut shell..:) I am a very happy person, that see's the good in everything. Rarely do I let life's bullshit get me down. And I think that is why I have never posted on my fucked up family. Why talk about it, they are never going to change!
But lately, as in the last couple of years, the tide has changed and I am struggling with my fucked up dysfunctional family. I have talked to Master about it..alot, although I think He doesn't want to hear about it! So that makes me feel sad.
Therefore, I have decided to write it down and maybe that will help me wrap my head around my parents, and maybe find that peace that I enjoyed a couple of years ago. Not sure, so we shall see.
Who Am I
Well I am the "baby" , the youngest, with an older brother and an older sister. My parents were/still are alcoholics. Here starts the dysfunction.
I was told, that I never said a word until I was almost 4. They had me tested, I was fine. They had my see a child psychologist, and yes I was fine. Mom said one day, I just started to talk. Full, complete, sentences at the age of four. I did have a small lisp as a child, they said due to me not talking till I was four but whatever, they sent me to a speech therapist to get rid of that lisp. And I did. I look back today and think, gawd I didn't talk cause I was to damn scared.
But I am getting ahead of myself ....
Fast forward and I am now 8, I have seen fights and puking, and boozes and puking and fights. I have picked up dads eye glasses out of his puke and helped him to bed...and we were forced to sit at the table and watch my mom slice her wrist open. It was 5 days before my 8th birthday. Her and dad had a HUGE booze fight, and she started to slice that night, come morning, she had two HUGE vertical slices from her wrist to her elbow, and there was blood everywhere. She was working on the third slice. My brother was screaming about a bag of dead bones on the floor, my dead was yelling at mom to cut deeper and bleed faster, I cried. The ambulance came and took mom away..and she was gone for about three months. I stayed with my aunt, she made me this birthday cake, and it had MONEY hidden in it, real money! I can still remember that, it was my first ever birthday party and my aunt threw it for me...:) I was always so jealous of my cousin, they had a mom, that cared, that gave them money for little things (we NEVER got money ever, mom is sooo money hungry it is unbelievable, I never saw a movie till I moved out, never went to a concert, never owned records, etc. wasn't allowed that was mom and dads hard earned money NOT ours. Grow up and get a damn job you useless bunch of kids!)
We heard that type of crap..often. Alot..useless kids, we were all fat, so fat our parents kept the fridge and freezer under lock and key (my knick name at school was boney maroney because I was so thin this actually makes me laugh! I had an admired and he used to sing that song "I have a girl named boney maroney she as skinny as a stick of macaroni" LOL) I was a liar, I never told the truth, sister was nothing but trouble, brother was no good, lazy, useless. We heard this type of crap, right up until two weeks ago, but again I am getting ahead of myself.
Fast forward a few more years, I am 12, my sister is wild as a banshee in and out of foster care. My brother is into booze and me..i am still the shy quiet wall flower. See my line of thought on this, is, if I remain quiet and well behaved, then I won't attract any unwanted attention to me. I won't get the wrath of mom or dad on me and their hateful hurtful words. Yes I was a good kid, quiet, independent. At least that is what mom and dad thought.
At 15, I woke up, packed up a garbage of my few belongs and walked down the stairs. I can still remember this. Mom was cooking breakfast, it was Saturday morning, i looked at her and dad and said "I am moving out" and I left
And I never went back.
I am going to stop here for now, this is making me sad, angry, upset, resentful, pissed,..I need to breath as I think about all the verbable abuse we went thru. I was never hit my sister took that crap, but the name calling..was bad..real bad. And the selfishness was even worse. I will address those issues, in a day or so. For now time to break.
I have beautiful red hair