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Let Your Sunshine In

Life's Journeys

Family Portrait

Fighting-Parents

As a little girl I spent every week-end with grandma and every Sunday I went to church, then after the dreaded ride home; I hated going home. My home life consisted of a drunken Father, My Mother who worked her tail off to provide for 4 kids and my drunken dad. I wanted my mommy to stop crying; I would wake up to screaming and glass breaking. If I knew what a war zone looked like I would say that is what a fly’s perspective; sitting on a wall watching the craziness. I would pray to GOD, please keep my mommy safe. God, please I will try to be better. I will go to bed like a good girl. I will clean up after my little brothers. Why can’t we just have a normal family?

I lived on pins and needles wondering who my dad was going to beat first. It was as though my dad would draw a straw and choose who he was going to beat first, one of my little brothers, mother or me. I used to pray to God, “Please God just let me die. I don’t want to live in this family. Why God did you give me a set of parents who don’t know how to love me. Dad’s that love their kids don’t beat them tell they are bloody. Mother’s are supposed to protect their babies from maniacs, who beat their babies, aren’t they, God? How could she God, when this fool was beating her too”!

I was so jealous of the few girlfriends’ families. They went on family vacations, had nice clothes, and true love. I loved looking at their family portraits. I hungered for that kind of love and it made me resentful that we didn’t have any family portraits and sometimes I was not a very nice friend.

Being the only girl and the oldest I had to cook, clean, do the laundry and take care of my baby brothers. I basically was my brother’s parents! I loved them so much. I even took a few beatings for them. One time, I picked up the phone to call my grandmother, which surly directed my dads’ attention off my brothers. When he was done with me I couldn’t walk for days. I missed many days of school because of the bruises.

When my parents hired a babysitter they were mostly males and so by the time I was eleven I had been molested by 3 male figures. With all the dysfunction I didn’t even know how to tell my parents. Another reason I didn’t have very many girlfriends; girlfriends tell secrets. I certainly couldn’t share that with a girlfriend. What eleven year old knows what to say let alone understand why I felt ashamed and dirty. I did finally tell my Aunt all about the sexual abuse and other ungodly things going on in our house. I later found out my Aunt was involved in the same sexual garbage as my parents. So, again I felt further betrayed. I am 55 years old and my parents still don’t know.

Eventually, the 4 of us ended of split up in foster care. Believe it or not I would rather be home with all the responsibilities and beatings than being separated from my family. This is very normal for foster children to want to be back at home. They love their parents and all’s they know is the dysfunction. My foster home was not a good match. The foster Mother had just lost her husband from a heart attack and their baby was 6 weeks old. Then I show up with all my baggage. Instead of physical abuse I had to deal with mental abuse, it was nine months of HELL!

When I came home, my brothers were already home. Apparently they got to go home a few months before me. I believe the social services wanted me to be a normal little girl a wee bit longer. What was that?

Fast forward to my early teens; dad moved us to the big city and started doing drugs. He didn’t beat on us any more, but that didn’t matter we had no self esteem any way. I think this was when the stressful life style caught up with me. My stomach hurt all the time; my monthly cycle was horrid, which caused me to miss several days of school. My mom took me to the doctor; who diagnosed me with a nervous stomach, go figure! Oh, and to help with the heavy bleeding birth control was prescribed along with Donital; I believe this is a form of barbiturates, which in my opinion, was was stupid and erroneous to have been given to me, as a teenage girl. This was not the answer to the problem, in my opinion, but just a quick fix or Band-Aid to a greater problem.

I want to quote an important Bible verse.

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget none of His benefits; Who pardons all your iniquities; Who heals all your diseases; Who redeems your life from the pit; Who crowns you with loving kindness and compassion; Who satisfies your years with good things, So that your youth is renewed like an eagle.” Psalms 103:1-5

Part 2 later
co: NDL 2/2013