Who The Hell Am I?

Chapter 1 - Why me?

Do you ever just go through sinarous in your head about ways your life can change? Sometimes for the better sometimes through the worst and how you would get through them. My mind is constantly running through different paths. Some believable some more imaginative and then I begin to wonder. I wonder why I run through these sinarios because I’m not happy with my life or my decisions I have made. Wonder if because of my broken childhood I will always be doomed to never fully let go of other possibilities. And sometimes I wonder if I will ever be fully, completely, devotedly in love with someone. While pondering these questions I decided I should share my sinaros and thoughts so that maybe I will get to an answer.

From a child my life has been complicated. My mother, she did her fair share of drugs and drinking while I was growing up. My dad, he was the same way but he wasn’t around a lot. Growing up in a trailer park with me two younger sisters. Living in a life of constant part going on around us and people wonder why we are so f****d up. Some of us are just better hiding it than others.

When I was seven years old I watched my father almost kill my mother. He stabbed the fridge and the cupboards before putting a knife to my moms throat - the only thing that saved her was the sounds of sirens. Not long after that I spent nine months in the foster care system. We got lucky we got to stay together and had a great family that is still my family today. We had a great nine months but then because of how broken our child care system is the kids still end up back with their drug addicted, abusive, alcoholic parents. Not long after we went back with my mom and she met a guy that became the monster of all my nightmares and if I thought my life was bad then it was about to get a whole lot worse. This part of my story is worse than all the rest and I believe it’s shaped me to be the person I am today.

At first things were great just like how things usually begin before you really get to know them and their real selves emerge. Within a year there was constant fighting whether it was that my mother stole money and gambled it away, or she was out partying with other guys, or she lied to him about something. Those fights turned physical quick. I can still hear the screaming and crying from both of them when I close my eyes. The sound of his hand smacking her face. The sound of her being kicked over and over. The sound of the promises made to get him to stop. At first those fights only involved them but we could hear everything and knew exactly what was happening to her. Every time it happened the next day they would continue on with life as if nothing had occurred at all.

As I started getting older and developing a body he started paying more attention to me. He became obsessed and there was nothing I could do about it. He started by gettting me to nap with him or sleep in his room if my mom wasn’t there. Then from there it escalated to him touching me and manipulating me into thinking that no one can know or we will go back to foster care and this time we would be seperated. I couldn’t lose my sisters they were all I had. I knew I had to take care of them so at the age of thirteen I knew I didn’t have a chance at this life, not a real one anyway. I became a master actor. I lived in a world of horrid make belief and I didn’t truly ever believe we could get away. This was my life now. Pretending to be there for him. Letting him have his way with me. Doing everything he wanted to protect my family. The manipulation changed often. He could always find ways to coerce me into something I never wanted to do. I was not quite fourteen and it ruined my already f****d up childhood.

In retrospect I wish I would have said something that very first time because the scars he left on my body, my mind, my heart and my soul are so deep that I’m not sure they can ever completely heal. Next came all the beatings that come with being someone he wants to control. The secrets I would keep buried so no one could judge me. The bruises that I would hide so no one could see. The complete desperation that I would never get away and I would never have a normal life. I honestly never believed we would be able to get away and keep our lives though who knows what the future holds because he is not dead yet. Before he entered our life’s we had very little to our name and so with him came money and a better lifestyle but it was far from worth it. Living your life in fear of the next beating all the time is not any kind of life I would wish on anyone but I would take the beatings over him touching me any day. Sadly that wasn’t an option.

Back then I was so desperate to find a boy to love me and fight for me and show me that I’m someone they really wanted and they would fight for me. I fell hard and I fell fast all the time from one relationship to the next. The pure need of someone to fully love you instead of the scum that fully controls you. But that was not in the cards for me. I always loved way more then they do. I always held on and instead of having a back bone to let it go and move on.

I would got into bouts of depression where I wouldn’t eat and I would only sleep. I used to imagine so many scenarios where he died. As well as many in which he lives and we got out and he killed us all. Right now your probably thinking I am crazy dreaming of being murdered by the monster that ruined our lives. Crazy to dream that after we got out he’d kill us anyways. But here’s the thing, when I was stuck living in that house I couldn’t imagine what a life could be once I was finally free. This life was all I knew and I didn’t believe that we would get to live lives that we wanted to live.

Even today scenarios of him showing up happen regularly. I imagine the door bell ringing and I open the door to find him standing on the other side. The shock and fear that overcome me is a paralyzing feat and I can’t stop him from getting inside. knew he would always come back for me. He always promised to kill us if we left. His last act before he dies will be to kill me and I believe that as strongly as I believe that the sun will set every day. He beats me until he thinks I’m dead. He calls me a w***e and tells me I ruined his life and I need to pay for it. Eventually he thinks I’m dead and he leaves me in a puddle of my blood to die alone.

I lay there for what feels like hours before help comes. The only positive of this situation is my daughters are safe with their dad. Eventually He brings the girls back to me only to find me too close to death. My daughters can’t stop crying it’s all I can hear. The ambulance comes and takes me away while the father of my children takes care of the most precious things in the world to me. The verdict is bad and I’m headed to the city and so I call the one person that i need by my side - he’s devasted by the news but he comes just like I know he will. He always deals with my baggage and sometimes I wonder why he would want to. The next 48 hours are crucial. I have multiple surgery’s done and there really is no telling if I will survive this. But miraculously I survive.

Waking up the first thing I notice is your head laying on my hand. I love you more in this moment than any other up to this point. I remember hearing him talk to me begging me to come back to him. I remember him crying and apologizing for not being there and the evidence is still in his eyes. This man loves me I know he does. Eventually Im healed enough to go home but my home is now a place of terror in my mind and I can’t go back.