here is my life in a nutshell for the world to see. in an effort to protect those that i love around my i am trying to keep identities confidential. some may follow the blog, others may visit it once or twice and decide you hate me or like me. i may enrage some of you or inspire you. my goal is that if i can help just one person make it to the next day i have fulfilled my mission. during my darkest times i just needed someone to listen--an outlet. often i felt alone and that no one else felt the same, if only we could be honest with one another many of us would know we are not alone. i am starting from the beginning to help others understand who i am and why i stand for certain things.
daddy dearest
i came from a broken home. i know there have been others out there who have had it worse but since it happened to me-- it was my nightmare. my father routinely beat my mom, cheated on her and was hardly around. this sums my father up, he pushed my mom out of a moving van when she was pregnant with me and he cheated on her from day one and has never seen the error in his ways. when i was 6 months old my father's job transferred him to washington dc where he met one of his many girlfriends. more than once he was out with his girlfriend while we took safe haven in a neighbors basement during a hurricane.
a few years later we are moved once again to san francisco. he said he was transferred since his office was closed (20 years later mom and i were back in d.c. and actually saw the department bldg- he worked for the government). reality he got into trouble with an affair and we moved. san fransico was our happiest time--- the trouble my father got into, getting another woman pregnant who ended up having an abortion-- "straightened" him out. in an effort to stay out of trouble he was around for the first year. we lived in a beautiful home on a hill overlooking the bay. we had it all- nice car, house, the dog the cat, private school, vacations- but that wasn't enough for him. so once again he started his old ways. often women would call the house for him and when i had the chance to intercept the calls i would say "leave my daddy alone". i was getting older and understanding a lot more- the abuse both physical and mental abuse.
a couple of years later we are transferred again to the o.c. this is when my father just stopped keeping up the pretenses and openly hit my mom and cheated on her without caring to hide anything anymore. the abuse was so bad my mom's physician told her to take a gun to him and shot the SOB. here are just two of the incidents...
1- one night after taking a shower i put on my pj's that had accidentally fallen to the floor from the counter. my father "found" a bug on me, beat the crap out of my mom for keeping a "dirty house" and then called the police on her to have taken away for the abuse she was inflicting on me. once the officers were there they separated my parents and the woman police officer took me to the side to talk. once i told her the story they escorted my father out of the house. he was no longer living with us.
2- the why he wasn't living with us anymore. one morning as i was getting dressed he saw a small bruise on my leg. more than likely it came from a fall (hell i was in second grade). my mom was in the other room and he grabbed her by her hair, dragged her into my room from across the room and starting beating her with my metal baton. in an effort to protect her i took a shoe and started hitting him, he reached back to stop me and hit me with the baton. when the madness was over i went to school and it was like any other day, until i was called into the Principal's office. inside there was a social service worker waiting to take down the incident report. when they asked to see my bruise i held my arm up to show them the mark (from the baton) and i proceeded to tell them the story. her is the ironic part- it was my father who had called the police on my mom for the small bruise on my knee. immediately my maternal grandparents were called and they came to pick me up. my mom was able to be with me as long as i was at my grandparents. i was not to return to the family house until my father was moved out.
in the end i just wish my father was dead. why? because then i would know he had no choice to be around rather than choosing not to be around.
mom- my best friend and worst enemy (you and me against the world)
you may ask why did she live through this? there is really no one true answer except that she felt alone. she too had a troubled childhood (the cycle of abuse begins). her father beat her and her mother hated her. she was molested by a family member (my grandfather's brother) and it was ignored by the family. there is only one family member who faces the reality and recognizes what happened and she is not apart of the immediate family but she is the closest member. when my mom wanted to leave my grandmother's exact words-- "its not all of J's fault, it takes two in a marriage"
best friend-- there is not a thing either of us wouldn't do for one another. her love has made me who i am today. her strength has given me hope of a better life. her spirit has provided the memories of my childhood. once my father left we were left with nothing but a house and the debt to go with it. my mom begged, borrowed and stole for us to survive. but through it all she was always there and provided for us. here are just a few memories
1- for easter she created a cabbage patch for my doll that the easter bunny left for me. in reality it was lettuce from the garbage bin behind the grocery store but she dug through the trash to see the smile on my face. she was no stranger to the trash- often we went through it to get food for our guinea pigs. we also collected cans from the cans on the beach to recycle before it was cool to be green.
2- on a mini trip to san diego we packed a picnic lunch. by the time we got to the park it was starting to get late but we wanted to have our dinner. like i said it got late. little did we realize we were on the wrong side of the park, the drug dealing side. once we got the clue we immediately packed up what was left but as we were doing so there was a couple of men circling us. looking back now this may not seem funny but we were in hysterics as my mom kept saying "get the knife" loud enough for others to hear. here is the hysterical part it was a damn plastic knife. i am sure the laugh was from our nerves but nonetheless it is a memory.
3- oh the laughter at the mexican circus. before my parents separated, my father bought a "beach" house in mexico with his family. there wasn't a beach in sight but whatever. well, like usual daddy dearest wasn't around. mom decided to take me to the circus to keep me entertained. it was the funniest act i have ever seen- not because it was great but because how bad it was. the costumes were tore up just like the performers. each act fell at least twice- from the cyclist, to the trapeze artists (no one was hurt); the dogs ran away from their master, etc.
my enemy-- often she took out her frustration out on me. not physically but verbally. she often exploded at the smallest incidents. i once remember yelling back that she yelled at me because she was upset with my father- she admitted that was true but it has never since been brought up again. there were a couple of times that she slapped me (and i probably deserved it at the time) but the strength of the blow was probably a little harder than it should have been. hence the reason i do not believe in spanking! often emotions get in the way.
in the end i know she was the best mom that she could be- and she was and is pretty fantastic!!!
the boyfriend
fast forward to my freshman year in high school. i had the world at my feet---i was starting a new school where virtually no one knew me (going from a private school to a public), i was on dance team and i was in all honors courses. then i get attention from a senior---hello that was a big clue, what does a senior want with a freshman? i fell in love and the world around me stopped. classes were not as important and soon my grades began to slip away along with my friends. two years later i realized i was in too deep and was all alone- any true friends were far and few between and i became reliant on this guy. when he dumped me i was devasted so much so i tried taking my life. stupid, right? yes it was and had it not been for a dear friend who stepped in for me i don't know if i would be here. the ex (that's a better choice of words than what is appropriate for me to use to describe him) was cruel to me towards the end
1-he threw me out of the car once, yelling and screaming at me while we were with his friends (my how history repeats itself)
2-told me i was fat which in turn i began to starve myself. even though i was a size 5 i dieted until i reached size 1 and that is when a my dear friend stepped in
3- left me at a party for me to walk home (at least 10 miles from where i lived) w/o a phone or any money to call for help
those are just a few instances. do i blame him for his actions, yes. now that i am older and wiser i look back and am sure he "beat" me down to compensate for his own insecurities. at a young age he lost his mother. about 10 years later he lost his father. he had no guidance other than an older sister who had to raise him and his younger sister.
what changed my life?
the call!!! and not the call that you think
***although i vow never to state my age directly- through out my blog i am sure there will be slips of the tongue that will date how old i actually am.
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