All that glitters



Learning to find out what a normal life actually is.

“Rape is one of the most terrible crimes on earth and it happens every few minutes. The problem with groups who deal with rape is that they try to educate women about how to defend themselves. What really needs to be done is teaching men not to rape. Go to the source and start there.” 
― Kurt Cobain

January 2, 1977

I was born into a family that was very dysfunctional in every sense of the word.  My mother and father were never married.  In fact, as the story goes, my father was married to someone else and had left her to be with my mother.  My mother has never admitted to having any kind of knowledge about this.  My father, a truck driver, a drunk and by all accounts a drug runner, spent most of his time chasing women and running drugs through the Pacific Ocean.  My mother already had two children before I was born and was naturally struggling because by all accounts she was a single mother with one of those children having had been diagnosed with having leukemia.  She was as loving and as caring as any mother should be, if not more.  They tried to stay together and by they I really mean her. She tried to keep her family together but after losing by brother, her son, to his battle with leukemia I just don’t think she had the strength.  She’s already working two jobs just to support us so by this time what does she need him for?


Summer of 1988

Now my brother and I are visiting my very seldom.  Mama calls him frequently just to try to keep him in our lives. It’s important to her that we have both parents in our life even if living separate.  We visit every couple of months. Making Chinese food from a can and learning to debone a chicken. Those are the few things that I remember doing where we were laughing. Daddy is remarried by this time and his new wife really isn’t the greatest but he loves her. We would go out to the pool, daddy and I, and stand around talking to his friends, all the while he was putting his hands down the back of my bathing suit. Is this wrong? Can’t be. We are standing outside in the middle of the day with all his friends around and nobody is saying anything so of course this is natural. We’re home now and I can hear moaning from the bedroom but really loud moaning. Is this what sex sounds like? Daddy calls me to come talk to him in his room. He shuts the door and starts talking to me. What’s he’s saying? I can’t hear him. His hands are down my pants. His he still talking? How come I can’t hear what he’s saying? What is that on the TV? Are they having sex on the TV? Is he still talking to me? Why are my pants off? He’s still talking but I can’t hear him; he must have asked a question because I remember telling him that I didn’t understand what was happening on the TV. Is this happening? Why are we laying down? Did he tell me we were going to do this? Did I miss that conversation? Why is his face so close to mine? IS THIS HAPPENING? That hurts. That really hurts. What do I do? What do I say? How come the TV is still on? How come he’s still talking? WHAT IS HE SAYING? I can see his lips moving but everything is silent for some reason. Did I black out? It’s over? Just like that now it’s over? It must be over because he’s helping me get dressed.  What do I do now? Okay, he tells me to go the living room. Whatever just happened must be over. Was that wrong? Do I tell someone? I barely see my daddy so maybe this is the only way he knows to show affection.


Time goes on. Weeks and then months without a word.  He doesn’t call and we don’t visit until one day we do.


Now my brother and I are back over and visiting daddy. He’s teaching us to debone a chicken.  Is this weird? No, surely it’s not. There’s no mention of it. This just must be something parent’s do to show affection.  Mama is having trouble with my brother and ask daddy if he could live with him. Maybe that will turn him around. I don’t even know what the problem is but of course I’m only 11 so what do I know anyway? Maybe with my brother living with my father I will be able to visit more. Do I want to visit more? I think so. I love my daddy and I know he loves me. I don’t like him on top of me but that hasn’t happened again.


My brother living with my father has made it so I can visit with him more than before.  We don’t really do much but at least I get to visit with my daddy.  Laying on the floor eating Chinese and watching wrestling makes today all in all a great day. Wrestling is and always has been boring to me so after having a full tummy, I just fall asleep on my pillow on the floor. What is that feeling? What’s happening? It stopped. Why is my brother looking at me? Why did he tell me to close my legs? Why are my legs even open? Did the same thing just happen that happened with daddy not long ago? No can’t be. I mean nothing hurt. As I’m starting to wake up a bit I begin to realize he had his mouth on my private parts. IS THIS NORMAL? Is this how all families act? I hear a familiar noise coming from the TV. These people are doing the same thing that the people were doing on my daddy’s TV were doing but these are different people. I hear daddy coming out of his room yelling at me to turn that mess off. What? Where’s my brother? Didn’t he turn it on? Am I dreaming or was I dreaming when my brother told me to close my legs? I wonder whose reality I’m living in because surely it’s not mine.


May 10, 1990

It’s hot today and I’ve just run away from home to go to Melissa’s house.  Mama never lets me out of the house to go anywhere except school and sometimes I would like to hang out with my friends.  Melissa said we could hang out and maybe go on a boat ride later. I’ve never been on a boat so this sounds great! I’m 13 and I’m going to put on my bathing suit and layout on a boat. Her friend Jason and some of his friends come in and tell me they’re ready to go. “Where’s Melissa” I asked.  “Isn’t she coming”? Jason tells me she’s already on her way to the boat and we are just going to meet her there.  Okay, sure, let’s go.  Now I’m in an SUV with, let me count, seven guys.  It’s ok though because soon we will meet Melissa so I won’t be the only girl.  I only know of one pier in this town and I don’t think we’re going the right way.  I’m too nervous to ask anything but I know that we are almost in the middle of the woods. Now we’re in the middle of the woods and the truck has stopped. Jason starts laughing and everyone except me starts getting out.  Jason tells me to get out. He’s not laughing or smiling just telling me to get out.  My shorts and shirt are being pulled off.  They are in so much of hurry that they tear my bathing suit off.  There’s seven guys but I’m the only girl, what’s going to happen?  This doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a fair fight but now I’m alone in the woods with nowhere to go.  At first they start out one by one raping me.  It seems as though some of them may be taking too long because now they aren’t even waiting.  They are all trying to jump on me at once. Punching me in my face raping every part of my body they could possible rape.  Am I crying? I’m not even sure if I can feel anything.  Am I dead, is that why I can’t feel anything? My body is just lying there limp. I don’t have the strength or the energy to fight with them. I can feel everything. I’m not dead. I’m just paralyzed from the pain I’m in. The pain is too great to explain. I’m not numb, I’m bleeding. Will this ever end?  It’s starting to get dark. How long could this possibly go on for?  Not much longer.  I can see them getting dressed so this must be over. They are talking about taking me back to town and Jason is telling them no they never could or they would for sure get in trouble. I WON’T TELL!! I’m screaming, I WON’T TELL! Why is nothing but blood coming out of my mouth?  Why are there no words?  Can you tell by looking in my eyes what I’m saying?  It’s ok what you just did I won’t tell, please don’t kill me.  Oh I can hear them talking and the tall one doesn’t think he could watch them kill me.  How strange but I’ll take it.  At least one of them wants me to live.  “We can’t take her back to town because everyone will know. But we can tie her up to this tree and nobody will have to watch her die.”  I guess they all agreed since that’s what they did.  It’s dark and I’m in the middle of the woods.  Nope they didn’t kill me.  They’re just going to let me starve to death tied up to the tree.  It never actually crossed my mind that maybe an animal would come and eat me or anything.  The only thing I could think about was how long it was going to take for me to starve to death.  Can I choke myself?  Well if you could do that then you would be able to untie yourself from this stupid tree.  Yeah, it’s going to happen.  I’m going to sit here for days waiting to die.  I’m so tired and everything hurts.  I must be dozing off because I can feel myself jerking back awake.  Why did I run away?  I should have left a note so she didn’t worry.  By the time she read the note I would be on the boat laying out.  She would be mad but at least I would have been able to get on the boat first and when I didn’t come home she would send someone to find me.  How come Melissa never showed up?  Does she think I went home?  I can feel the dew from the tree and I can see the sun starting to come up.  Well at least I’m not even hungry yet.  Maybe I will die of starvation but never be hungry since I have all this pain shooting from my body.  Is that a car?  Did they tell someone I was here?  It sounds like a truck.  They will never see me.  It’s a tractor.  It’s a man on a tractor with his dog.  The dog is running over to me.  Please don’t bite me, please don’t bite me.  The tractor is driving to the back of the woods.  He doesn’t see me.  Am I screaming?  I’m trying!  The tractor disappears but the dog is still sitting by the tree with me.  I hear him calling his dog.  He doesn’t move from my feet.  Is his owner going to hurt me when he finds me?  Will he help me?  I’m so scared I think I’m about pass out again.  He’s screaming, “ARE YOU ALIVE?”  Yes, I’m alive.  Please help me, please.  He’s crying as he is untying me.  I can hear him talking frantically but I have no idea what he’s saying.  My arms are loose, my legs are loose and I can feel myself falling.  The man, this man is holding me up.  I can’t see anything so my eyes must be closed.  I can tell I’m on the ground again and I open my eyes and no longer see the man.  What did I do?  Why did he leave me?  Maybe I can get up and walk.  Oh, I have no clothes on.  I must have scared him so he left but at least I’m no longer tied to the tree.  I can’t get up which means I won’t be able to walk.  Maybe if I lay here for a little bit I will gain my strength to get up.  Oh everything hurts and I’m bleeding so much I can’t tell from which body part it’s coming from. I hear a car and I can the dog again.  It’s the same man who was on the tractor.  He’s picking me up and it feels like my body is falling apart piece by piece.  Where are we going?  Oh I like this dog.  He’s licking my feet.  Oh thank you for being so nice.  That’s a lot of noise.  Who are all these people talking?  Oh it’s a bed.  I’m lying on a bed.  I must have fallen asleep because I can hear people calling my name to wake me up.  Where’s my mama?  She is going so mad when she gets here.  Oh I see her.  How come she’s not talking to me?  Oh she must be madder then I thought she would be.  No don’t cry.  I promise not to run away again.  Please don’t cry.  It’s the cops and they’re asking me a lot of questions.  Make them go away please.  I’m so tired I just want to sleep and apparently that’s what I did because the next thing I remember is the doctor asking me if I was able to talk to the police now.  How many days have I been here?  How long have I been asleep?  I can see mama sleeping on the hospital floor next to my bed.  I get through the first meeting with the police.  They sure ask a lot of questions.  Yes, I know who some of the people are but I don’t know where they live. No no no, I don’t want to go back to the tree.  Please just let me lie here.  Oh finally mama is talking to me.  I’m sorry I ran away.  She’s kissing my forehead over and over and I can hear her say, “Nothing is your fault.”  Remember NOTHING IS YOUR FAULT.  Finally, I get to go home. 


A couple months go by and all the boys are in jail and waiting to go to trial.  Mama is trying to bring my life back to normal.  Sitting in the living room talking to mama I’ve just realized I haven’t had my cycle in a little while and ask mama if she thinks it’s due to the rape?  Does my body have to get back to normal? She never says a word just gives me a kiss and goes to work.  When she comes home she tells me to take a pregnancy test. Oh yeah, now I’m pregnant.  I’m pregnant because I was raped.  Wait, there was seven of them, who is the father?  My body is going to be ruined.  Come on, I’m only 13.  No, I don’t want to have this baby.  Nope, don’t think I’m going to be doing that.  What? No mama I don’t want to have a baby.  I’ll never have a good body and my boobs are going to be ruined.  My mind is so young and not developed that I wasn’t even thinking about the baby and what kind of impact this will have on him, I’m seriously only thinking about the effects it will have on my body.  She makes a phone call and now it’s settled; I will have this baby and give him up for adoption.  But there’s a problem.  In Florida, even if you are raped, the father has rights to the baby.  He would have to sign adoption papers.  Would he?  How can I be sure when we haven’t even gone to court and I still have no idea which one is the father.  Now I will have to testify while being pregnant?!  Oh this nightmare will never end. 


Months have gone by again. Now the holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and now it’s my birthday.  I’m turning 14 and I’m pregnant.  My stomach is huge and I have so many stretch marks I look like I could guide a train with the tracks on my body.  We’ve received news that my daddy has passed away but I can’t go the funeral.  He didn’t even know I was raped so how will his family treat me?  It’s settled, we won’t go.  


April 1991

We still haven’t gone to court because of the boys have pled not guilty.  How can you plead not guilty?  You tried to kill me.  You ripped holes in my body that should never be there and may never heal.  I’m sure none of them know I’m pregnant and I’m thankful I have not had to testify while being pregnant.  Lying in bed, April 17, and my water breaks.  This isn’t so bad; I think this should be easy.  How long will this last?  Oh I’m so tired.  I’m just going to sleep.  Wait, what?  Holy crap this hurts.  21 hours later I’m giving birth.  I’m 14 years old and I’m giving birth.  The doctor holds the baby up and the nurse hurries him away.  Never got the chance to see him but mama did.  I just gave birth to a baby boy.  Who’s going to sign the birth certificate?  I’m not sure how that worked out but I know that someone signed it and he was given away.


Months go by and now we’re finally going to court.  One by one.  ONE BY ONE?  By the time we get to court, I have had 3 surgeries and a baby.  Seven times I now have to tell the story of the day you all killed me.  I’m still walking but nothing about me is alive.  I’m still mad because my body is ruined. I’ll never be able to wear a bikini, though I was hoping this wouldn’t be true.  My boobs are like old lady boobs since they were ruined by being pregnant.  Each denying they were even there that day.  In the end they were all sentenced to go to prison.  Five of them received 15 years and two of them received life simply because of the amount of damage they did to my body.  Never mind the last one who left me to die by tying me to a tree.  After seeing all the boy’s, I know now who fathered my child.  My child is not mixed and there is only one white guy in the bunch.  At least now this is over. 


June 1993

I’m 16 and my friend is taking me home from school.  Turn that up, that’s my favorite song!  She’s dropping our friend’s off and I’ll be the last to go home because she’s my best friend.  What’s happening; why can’t I move?  Why am I laying in a hospital bed?  What’s this on my head?  How come I can’t move?   Why is he getting me up and putting me in a chair?  Why is my head so heavy?  Somebody please talk to me?  Oh I can hear mama talking.  Did I run away again and get into more trouble?  What has happened?  Put me back on the bed, I just want to sleep.  I must have been asleep for a very long time because now I’m in a different room and mama is sleeping on the floor next to my bed.  Wake up so I can talk to you.  I guess she’s too tired so I’ll just go back to sleep.  Oh, finally someone is talking to me.  What? How did I break my neck?  I’ve been here for two months?  Ok, so this thing on my head is called a halo and keeps my neck in place. So my neck is broken and I’ve had some sort of head trauma; so is this why I’m wearing a diaper and mama is brushing my teeth.  After three months of physical therapy and occupational therapy, I am now brushing my own teeth and using the bathroom on my own so I’m finally I’m ready to go home.  After months and months of therapy, which taught me how to walk again and how to socialize in public, I’m almost back to myself. 


Fast forward through some years and now I’m 21 and I’m pregnant with a little girl!  I’m so excited to be having this baby.  Finally, I will have something to show for all the stretch marks that this baby will give me.  Someone to call my own. It doesn’t matter to me that the father wants no part of this baby.  That just means that I don’t have to share her with anyone.  The day has come for me to give birth to my daughter Amber Nichole.  That’s the name that I’ve chosen for her.  Part of mama’s name and part of my grandmother’s name.  Short C-section and she’s here.  She’s even prettier than I could have ever imagined.  I will work every day and two jobs if I have to just to make sure she never has to want for anything.  She will always know she is number one to me. While working at a convenience store I met a man who eventually became my husband.  Mama doesn’t like him and it’s obvious but she loves me so she’s trying to be friendly.  Over for dinner, over for holidays and just anytime we get together she is sure to make sure he is invited.  Six months later we are married.  Life is a little easier because now we are both working.  Life is almost perfect and just the way it should have been.  The past is the past to me and I think I have done very well not letting anything affect my future.  My daughter just turned one yesterday and we had a fantastic birthday for her.  She laughed and ate cake, well sort of ate cake.  She pretty much wore most of it but isn’t what they do at that age?  Today, I’m sitting on my porch reading a book and she’s playing in her turtle sandbox she just received for her birthday yesterday.  It’s a beautiful day and we’re in the front yard because she loves to watch traffic go by.  She’s beginning to talk and is always very proud of herself when she can correctly say the color of the cars.  All the sudden, out of nowhere, I hear what sounds like a mac truck and see my neighbor on his four-wheeler, hauling butt and I think he’s coming towards us.  I run to grab Kaylea and before I can get to her he runs over her.  RUNS RIGHT OVER HER.  Almost like he ran right over her head.  Oh my God, oh my God.  What just happened?  I can smell beer on his breath.  I yell at him not to leave, stay right there.  Hello 911, please come quickly my daughter has just been run over.  Please hurry.  PLEASE HURRY.  I threw the phone and went to pick her up.  I can’t pick her up.  I can only hold her because her body is almost in half.  Oh my God not my daughter.  Ambulance arrives, mama and my husband are both at my house now.  I have no idea who called them, I just know my daughter is bleeding everywhere.  The neighbor who has just run over my daughter is sitting on his four-wheeler looking like he’s dumbfounded and drunk as a skunk.  Why are you dumbfounded I yell?  You’re so stupid!!  You ran my daughter over and you can’t take that back.  Later it was explained that his mother is the one who called my husband mama.  She can’t be saved.  She is almost completely in half.  Of course the neighbor goes to jail, you know because he’s so stupid and drunk on a motorized vehicle that just run my baby over.  Wow, this can’t be happening but it is.  Nothing I do is going to make this ever go away.  No matter how many times I go to sleep and wake up she is never going to be there with me again. NEVER.  Everyone is of course crying but I feel like I’m about to die.  I’m childless again! Except this time, I was blessed enough to have met her and had her for a year in my life.  I was able to share so many memories with her and even have her first birthday.  Now all I have are the toys she left behind, her blanket, her clothes and pictures.  Oh how beautiful the pictures are.  I’m so thankful I have the one’s I have.  Nothing left to do but plan her funeral now.  A funeral for my one-year-old daughter.  I can remember walking into the funeral home but I honestly cannot remember anything else.  I can’t remember anything anyone said or did and I can’t even remember seeing her in that little casket.  I mean I sure I did but I must have somehow blocked that out.  I think I’m fortunate in that I don’t remember her being dead but I do remember her being alive.  Three days after her funeral and I still have not moved from my bed, not to eat, not to shower, only lying there like a zombie.  I can remember my husband coming home from work and telling me he has something to make me feel so much better.  What could it be?  Did you figure out a way to bring her back?  Impossible so what could it be?  Oh, it’s drugs.  He’s telling me to do drugs and that will take my mind off of her and her funeral.  I’ve never done drugs and honestly I don’t even have the energy to get up and do any drugs so I just say no and continue to lie on the bed.  He brings the drugs to me and I do them.  I do them because if there is a chance that I can feel better or make myself so numb that I forget all this then I’m going to do whatever it takes.  I’m high as a kite and have no idea what to do first.  My mind is racing and I’m itching to do something physical.  All the sudden I want to get up and clean.  Wow, let’s get up.  Oh, first I need to take a shower because it is now become very clear that I haven’t had one in days.  I’m not crying anymore.  I’m being very productive.  My house is extremely clean, all my laundry is done and even though I’m not hungry I’ve made dinner and prepared his lunch for the next day.  Oh why didn’t someone introduce me to this when I was raped?  I could have gotten over that a lot sooner than I did.  Days go by and now months.  I’ve gotten a job and I’m working almost every day and things are great.  Well sort of.  I’ve lost a lot of weight and even though I’m awake I don’t feel very good most of the time.  My face is always breaking out and I used to have the prettiest face. I don’t even visit with my family anymore.  What is happening?  I used to feel so good when I first started doing this and now I just feel worse, mentally and physically.  I have to stop doing this but how?  I think I’m hooked on this drug and unable to get off.  Then one day I find out I’m pregnant again.  Oh no, I’m pregnant.  I’ve already had two babies and I don’t have any of those kids.  Should I have this child?  What if this child doesn’t survive?  I can’t do this again.  On one hand, I would love to have a child that I would be able to wake up with and know that he’s alive for the rest of my life.  I don’t think I would survive another death.  I just know I’ll end up dead.  But on the other hand what if this time we make it?  If I abort this baby, I will know that I took his life and never gave him a chance.  So then it’s settled.  I will get off drugs so that I can have a healthy pregnancy and give this child the best chance I can.  I slept for the first six months of my pregnancy, probably because I was awake for most of the previous year when I was heavily on drugs.  I’m already starting to feel better.  My appetite is coming back and I’m beginning to look like my old self.  Oh how I love to feel this baby move around.  He’s so active and so busy all the time.  When I try to sleep is when it seems he wants to play the most but I’m so excited to be pregnant that it never bothers me.  I’m huge but I love it.  I know that I’m making sure this baby is getting all the food he needs as well as the nutrients. I go to all my doctor’s appointments and he’s as healthy as he can be.  Yes, I said he.  I’m having a boy.  I already have a name and I can’t wait until he gets here.  There is one problem, his father to which whom I’m still married to, hasn’t been able to get off drugs.  I refuse to bring a child into a home where drugs are being done.  He refuses to stop so I only have one choice and that’s to leave him.  I really wanting him to have both his parents but only if they are sober and at this point only one of them is.  I move back to mama’s house until I give birth and can get settled on my own again.  Time is going by so quickly and before I know it’s time to go to the hospital.  He’s born and he’s beautiful.  Oh how beautiful he is.  They clean him up and put him in the bed with me.  I will never let him go.  When it comes time to have his bath I go with the nurses and bathe him with them.  He will never leave my sight.  I will be fine raising him on my own.  I’m happy to have him to myself.  Nothing or nobody will ever hurt him. 


His father and I divorce and life goes on.  He turns one and then two and three and oh my gosh I think we might make it.  Years go by and his father isn’t in his life much because of his drug habit but I make up for it in every way I possibly can.  He’s in school making great grades because he is smart as a whip.  I’m so proud of him and I can’t believe he is still with me.  He’s eleven now and I think we will move.  Mama lives in a different state and I would like to be close to her.  We move and we get settled in.  He gets into a new school and because he’s such a friendly kid he has made friends very quickly.  He has the best personality and it seems like people are drawn to him.  I find a job and we begin our new life.  Now life is every bit of what I always imagined it would be.  He’s happy and so am I.  Mama is happy that we are near her so I would say it definitely has turned out to be a good move.


One day at work I met a man named Harry.


We date very casually in the beginning.  Nothing too heavy and not too serious.  I have to be cautious because I have my son to think about and how any relationship will affect him.  We get a little more serious as time goes on and we decide to move in together.  Of course mama is against it but she’s always been a little overprotective.  My son is pretty happy to have a man in his life and I’m excited because I’m pretty sure I just met the love of my life.  He drinks a little, well, maybe a little more than he should but that’s okay.  He still goes to work and by all accounts is a functioning adult.  Mama never really warms up to him but of course, in true mama fashion, she’s trying.  We come home from work one day, just as we had done so many other days, but this day is different.  This day he’s a little upset but to be honest I have no idea why.  Is it because he’s out of beer?  No he has beer; he’s drinking it now.  Wait a minute what’s happening?  Why is he yelling?  I can’t even understand what he’s saying.  Did he just hit me?  Now my mouth is bleeding and my lip is fat and I have a black eye.  I’m trying to keep quiet because my son is sleeping and I would never want him to see this.  I have to get away but how?  He won’t even let me out of his sight.  It’s like he’s keeping me hostage.  Oh no, I hear my son getting up for school.  Oh NO he’s going to see me; what am I going to do?  Harry pushes me in the bedroom and tells my son that I’m still sleeping and sees him off to school.  He will eventually come back home and then what?  Oh how thankful I am he didn’t hit him.  He just let him go to school without saying a word.  We’re not even going to work today.  He’s not letting me out of the house.  This day is just dragging on but he’s not hitting me anymore.  My son comes home and there’s no hiding my fat lip and black eye.  So I go in to my son’s room and tell him that are leaving first chance we get.  Apparently my son has really grown to like him because instead of saying he wants to leave, my son tells me not to leave because Harry doesn’t have anyone else.  My son is 11 at this time and I know in my heart we should leave but I do love him and he won’t do it again.  Plus, my son has never really had a man in his life so it’ll be okay.  Oh of course this isn’t the last time.  Did I really think it would be?  Honestly yes I did.  He cried and promised not to do it again.  But here we go again.  Same nightmare, different day.  I’m missing work now because he’s cracked my ribs, gave me a black eye or just wouldn’t let me go because he was afraid I would tell on him. Things really couldn’t get any worse but it does.  Now he’s cheating on me and I know it but for some reason I can’t prove it.  We work together and came home together so how could it be possible?  I can feel it in my gut.  I know it’s happening.  What’s in darkness will come to light and this was no exception.  He wasn’t actually sleeping with anyone; he was just sending naked pictures of himself.  He’s telling me why it’s’ ok and of course beats me until I agree.  One day he leaves to go his cousins house and my son and I are home alone.  I decide this day that I just can’t take it anymore and I ingest 300 aspirin because I’m just tired and I don’t see a way out.  Not one time did I stop and think of the impact it would have on my son; nope not once.   My son was the one to call 911.  My son who had just spent the last year seeing bruises on me time and time again and unsure of what to do.  If that wasn’t enough to damage him, surely this wish him over the edge.  Off to the hospital I go and I’m immediately put on life-support because I’m just about to die.  I can’t breathe on my own and kidneys are shutting down.   While I’m in the hospital mama goes back to my house and takes everything out.  I mean, Harry isn’t there because he’s with the girl that he had been sending naked pictures to so what else was she supposed to do?  She has no idea if I’m going to live or die and she definitely doesn’t want my son to lose all of his stuff.  Days go by and I wake up.  I’m alive but seriously confused because the last thing I remember is sitting on my porch talking to the paramedic.  Mama and my son come to visit and my son is pretty upset with me and doesn’t want to speak to me.  Yes, I’ve created this and now I have to fix this.  I just can’t do anything until they release me.  Oh they are releasing me but not to go home; no in fact I’m going to a psych ward.  I think I would rather get whooped daily then have to go through this ordeal.  Maybe this is actually what I need though.  Why am I looking at this in a negative way?  I have never had any help with any of the things I have gone through so maybe it’s time I talk to someone.  Wait, this doesn’t seem like anywhere I need to be.  These people are nuts.  Some guy with no pants on just looked at me and said what’s up...?  Are you serious?  You don’t have any pants on.  I think I’m good on the ‘what’s up part.’  I definitely do not want to be here.  Maybe I do have problems, mentally, and maybe I do need to talk to someone but I don’t think this is the place to do that.  May I please go home?  I will never try to commit suicide again!! EVER!  Finally, I convince them to let me go home but I must promise to actually seek out help.  I must actually agree to talk someone.  No problem, I can definitely do that.  I think this experience has taught me that I definitely need to.  Oh, thank you, I’m allowed to go home.


Now weeks have gone by and I’m seeing a psychiatrist and I’m super excited that I am.  The upside is I am finally telling someone how broken I am.  I am telling her everything that has happened and she cares, she actually cares.  At one point she is crying for me.  I’m confused as to why she would cry.  I mean, I have yet to cry.  I think that’s all in the past and that’s where I left it.  That’s apparently not true and she’s showing me how I have carried that with me my entire life with my actions and life choices.  I think she may be right.  I think I have tried my entire life to make up for all the bad, however, I tend to make bad choices to do that.  In the end, it’s never really worked out.  Now, the downside of our sessions is that she tells me I am bi-polar, schizophrenic, manic, extremely depressive, and I have PTSD.  Wow, that’s a lot to take.  How can I be all those things?  How come you can’t just pick one and that be what’s wrong with me?  So, people have tried to destroy me and in the end I’m the one still suffering?  Nothing about this sounds right.  Sure, some of them went to prison/jail and that’s their punishment but apparently, by all accounts, I will forever be broken.  So for the rest of my life I will now take a bunch of medicines.  How does this seem fair?  I mean, I’m so thankful that I no longer have to deal with this alone and hopefully I’ll never put my son through this garbage again but honestly, it just doesn’t seem fair.  It’s funny because my psychiatrist tells me to be thankful because at least I didn’t go all out and murder people.  So that’s great, instead of hurting other people I have apparently internalized everything and hurt myself and now my son.  My son has since forgiven me but that took some time.  He did yell at me and I totally understood that so I just let him, never once correcting him.  When he finished we both cried.  I love him dearly, no that word isn’t strong enough, he is my entire world.  He IS the reason I get up and the reason that I’m still alive.  What else would I have to live for if not for him?  I know some people would disagree with me and tell me all the things I have to live for but none of them are in my head so I just let them talk.  I have to say that all these meds have helped quite a bit, although I still struggle with some things, emotionally.  I feel as though I’m more leveled and I’m able to function like I have never before.  I thought I was living but I think most of my life has been a haze.  I feel like I have more clarity now.  I know that I have the best child anyone could ever hope for.  His mother, by all accounts is bat crap crazy and his father, oh his father, will spend the rest of his life in prison for trying to murder someone.  He has a heart of gold, is the most respectful child and extremely unselfish.  Most times I think he is a gift to me because of all I have been through.  Kind of like a parting gift if you.  I’m sorry life has been a bit difficult but this boy, this beautiful child should make it better for you.  To be honest, on so many levels, he really does. 


Where do I go from here?  Only God knows.  I just know I’ll be here waiting until my next chapter begins.  I’m thankful that I’m still here.  I have a lot of deep rooted wounds but just like I say, all that glitters isn't gold.  Just because I look as if I have it all together doesn’t’ mean I’m not afraid to leave my house most days!

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