What defines me?

Cancer , A Dozen Kids , Life, Struggle

Yesterday Marc and I went on a road trip. Just got in the car and took a cruise! We went thru several towns that I lived in. One of which being the one and only time my biological father took me in. I was 15 at the time. I was in my last year of middle school. I was in his mind damaged before I even got there. I wonder often what he really thought of me. I can’t really say I felt wanted in his home or loved I felt no part of either. I felt like a burden. I was a burden he made that pretty clear from day one. I remember eating for dinner one night and I was extremely hungry but there was not hardly ever much food. Anyway I ate a hash brown like the ones from McDonald and bacon bites on top. Not the good real ones but that fake ass red looking crunchy stuff. Just one was all I ate the entire day. My dad was dating a girl who hated kids. She never had a desire for her own kids and surely wasn’t up for raising a out of control damaged teenage girl. My dad found his way to her place every night it seemed. He would be at dinner while I would be home hungry! Who knows if he had paid any attention to that. If he had given me any attention at all in fact he probably wouldn’t have had such an unruly teen on his hands. I was so excited to move in with him. When he told me he would take me in I thought my life was about to make a turn and I was going to smile. I was wrong. Moving there with him was the biggest mistake of my life. No matter what the man says about how I was already out of control he lies through his teeth. I was ALONE I was Not being cared for. I was a teen dying for his time and nothing I did would make him give it to me. I was home alone all the time. Now I understand that the man had to work but he worked across the street from our home and he had 15 years to himself already. Why couldn’t he just let me have a bit of his time. He had gotten me a camera the year before for Christmas. I held onto that thing like it was worth a million dollars. It was rare to get a gift from my dad and the camera man it was the one thing I cherished. So I took pictures. I took walks in the woods behind our home alone for hours and hours and hours. I can’t count the number of rolls of film I used. There was never enough film for everything I had desired to capture.  Once school started things got worse. I had hard time fitting in and found myself in the wrong crowd. My submissive nature got me involved with a boy with a gang affiliation. There I was craving attention lonely bored and no one not a soul to confide. I had moved a hour away from everyone I had ever known. I had NO family no friends no lifeline. I started using the house phone to call home. I called and sat on the phone for hours. There wasn’t tv there was no where to walk to no one around at all. So the phone bills went up and my dad’s anger went with it. When he came through the door screaming about the phone bill in my head I was screaming there is not any food you leave me here alone!!! I didn’t care about his finances or what I had done running up a few hundred in phone calls. After all it was clear he had no care about anything to do with me. Now I begin to rebel. I was skipping school all the time. HE worked across the street even came home on his lunch break and I was skipping school right in front of his face for him to never notice. I gained knowledge that anything I did wasn’t even registering on his radar. Feeding me, getting me to school, parenting me it wasn’t going to be in his agenda. I started spending more time with the boy. It didn’t take long before I was consumed by the boy thinking he was the only person on the planet that loved me. HE had at least left me feeling something. He may have only wanted sex but it was better then no one wanting anything….. I skip school one day and the boy his cousin his friend and my two girl friends from school all show up at my place. I end up in my dad’s room a virgin terrified and trembling. Repeatedly saying no I can’t do this. I don’t know how I haven’t ever….My words went unheard. He raped me and my father walked in. Of course he missed the venomous words the boy spewed before entering. So he missed the I don’t care you dumb bitch your giving it to me and doing what I say…… Before I could even think or process the events my dad had the boy by the throat putting his head right through the tv. Oh he saved me I breathe in a sigh of relief…. Then he turns to me…. You fucking whore get all these fuckers out of my house and you too…. The devastation those words created in my heart still remains. I grabbed my clothing and ran from the house. Everyone fled in a vehicle but me. I was walking down the road as the boy and the rest approached. I said no to getting in a few times but where was I to go if I denied the ride? My father left me without a option. I got in. They took me to another persons home. That night they got me intoxicated till I couldn’t function. The horrendous tragedies I endured that night I have never verbally shared. The boy however wanted to make sure I would always remember. He took out a knife took me into a closet and craved his name into my thighs. I was on a roller coaster ride from hell after that. I spent that entire summer on the streets of Decatur. Bouncing around on couches. My mom did come once and bring me food. I went without eating more times then not. I remember mom buying me a thing of m and m cookies which are now my favorite cookies. I ate that package so sparingly even when they got stall I ate them as tough they were the freshest cookies I had ever tasted. AT 15 I felt totally worthless. Thrown away by my parents and unwanted by the world. I felt like I was irreparable and unlovable. As a parent now I can’t imagine ever allowing my own kids to feel like I did.  I can’t imagine any behavior being bad enough to let self doubt creep into my child’s head. My dad’s version of this story is far different. He blames my mom for her terrible parenting job and that I was far to bad for him to fix me. He takes no accountability to his role in my damage. I of course believe there are no bad kids only bad parenting. I stopped being angry for my past and the road I landed on because I was a child. I should never had control of that path. I should have been guided. I thought for the longest time I had to love him because he gave me life. I don’t love him. I don’t think he created me wanting to be a dad or give me the life i deserved. I don’t think he deserves to know how fantastic I became. I don’t want him soaking in credit for who I am. 28200_1309120337385_4170483_n

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