I'm in the mood to tell a story.....
This week I saw a story about a young child who was abused and died and thought several times about how that could have been me. Most people don't know this about me but, my first 18 years were spent in total terror. First the terror that a young child feels when woken up in the middle of the night by strangers, who tell her that her mother has been taken away to the hospital and you must go with them, and later by a cruel step-father who found perverse pleasure in verbal abuse so withering that it paralyzed me for many years after it stopped ringing in my ears. I see those stories on the news and I think, what a shame, too bad. I can distance myself now because I have a warm home and food to eat and people who care about me. But, inside my head, every once in a while, I still hear the words my step-father said. "Women are worthless!" "You should just get married because your never going to be able to support yourself, your not smart enough." "Your to dumb to go to college." "Your art means nothing, now if you were good at math, that would matter." It's taken many, many years to forget those stinging words that dogged me for so long, and I will never forget the violence he inflicted on my mother. It took a long time for me to realize it wasn't me, it was him. He was sick. Maybe he was jealous. God knows why a grown man would enjoy making a 10 year old girl cry and shake because she can't tell him what 36 x 15 is? God help me but I can never forgive the man. For years after he died I hoped he was burning in hell or his soul was suffering some horrible punishment. Now I just hope that it has found some peace because he was a tormented, ugly person. The only thing good that came out of his and my mother's union was my brother, Shawn.
So, there, I got that out. I just think about it sometimes but it doesn't hurt me anymore. It's so far in the past, if feels like another life. I just felt like writing about it tonight.