In-site into my life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

Story little essay about my life, testing the water with my writing, so feel free to critique.

Submitted: July 07, 2018

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Submitted: July 07, 2018



Growing up was difficult, more difficult then I think I realized. For years I would paraded around proud to be a survivor, proud of my upbringing because it made me who I am,  but now at 28 I am left feeling barren inside. A couple months ago I felt great for the first time in years; I had a spiritual awakening and on a path to self-love and acceptance. Now  I feel even father from finding who I am, for those of you who don’t know me and are reading this, it is July 7, 2018 around April 30, 2018 I had an awakening, by June 18, 2018 I sold all my belonging and set off in search of myself and meaning into my new life.

Coming into this was new, exciting, and scary but felt right; still does, but I have a long road to recovery. For the first time in my life I am alone miles away from my boyfriend, friends, family, I am here alone. Having all this time alone has allowed me to self-reflect, and what I am finding scares the shit out of me. The flood gate of suppressed memories is opened, and has me scared like a child cowering in a dark corner by a monster from my closet of memories. People ask me why I am so scared, well if you knew my mother or my childhood you would be scared to.

I have many words and emotions towards my mother and love isn’t one of them. What my mother put my brother and I through would ultimately shape the rest of our lives; it’s been a struggle for both us. He saw our reality for what it was as I created a false reality to cope, not realizing I did this till recently, now I see my childhood for what it was. I am about to tell you my story for the first time in my new perspective: I was born June 14, 1990 and my mother was 17 almost 18 when she gave birth to me, I was born healthy other than my ptosis (lazy/drooping eyelid) now something you should know about my mother before I continue.

 Mental health issues run ramped on her side of the family, so it’s no surprise she would have complications. My mother’s upbringing was hard for her, she was the youngest of 10 kids, was sexually molested her whole childhood, was beaten and never shown real love, she ran away from home around 11 or 12 she sold her body on the streets just to survive. Now at 17 she was giving birth to me, it’s very clear my mother was no stranger to all kinds of drug and alcohol abuse so you can imagine what life was like for me. My mother use to tell me the only reason she had me was so that she would have someone to love her the rest of her life and so she could have a best friend, she would tell my brother she only had him so I had a play toy. Well that back fired as both your children don’t love you.

When I would do something wrong, something not quite in need of a spanking, she would tell me she was hurt and we were no longer friends then wouldn’t talk to me for days….this fucked with me a lot. My mother and biological father did a lot of unsurprising things like sell drugs do drugs ect. When I was a year and half old my mother took me and ran into the arms of another man, this man was my brother’s father, he would be my father for 11 years. These two were no better together then my father and her, things were no different and we were constantly exposed to inappropriate things. My brother is 3 years my junior by the time he was a year old my mother had me changing him, bathing him, feeding him, basically taking care of him, this would make me 4 years old at this time.

By the time I was 5 years old I was cooking the family meals, cleaning up my drunken parents puke, changing their clothing all while still tending to my infant brother. By the age 6 I was obviously in school, so when school was done I would walk home alone, come home pick my brother up from the neighbor’s and start cooking and cleaning. Now some of you reading this may be thinking what is she complaining about she learnt responsibility and values, yes I did but I also had my childhood taken from me, and years later it would affect my whole life. I may be intelligent and mature but I am a big kid in my head and heart and can act childish at time because I never got to be one.

My mother would leave me and my infant/toddler brother alone ALL the time, because she trained me since birth to be self-sufficient, sure sounds okay till you realize what mother leaves her children unattended for hours in a vehicle with the keys still in it, or days alone in a house full of knifes, stove, stairs and poisons! It is a miracle we are alive or not kidnapped. Keep in mind this has only been the first 6 years of my life.

Now just for mentioning sake it’s fair to say I seen a lot a child shouldn’t see, drug and alcohol abuse as mentioned before but also physical abuse, sexual stuff like my parents constantly consummating anywhere, anytime the liked. I was exposed to sex everywhere within the home, TV, movies, parents, drawings, books, magazines; both parents were sexually molested when they were children and so their sexual appetite was fierce because of it.

 At 7 years old is when the “extended” camping trips began, all this meant was we were homeless living in the bush of British Columbia, don’t get me wrong I learnt a lot from these “camping” trips like ex: How to hunt and kill animals for food, how to skin them and dry the hide to use for all sorts of things. How to build shelters and large scale tipi’s, sweat huts, how to know what plants and bugs are safe to eat, learnt about nature and wildlife, but this is NOT normal or okay. Here is why,  I was 7 my brother was 4 missing out on school first off, mind you I learnt more than I would have ever learnt in school and for that I am grateful.

One day out in the bush my brother was bend over the river playing in the water, and I thought it would be so funny to throw this huge rock at his butt, thinking he would go face first into the water. Well not the case it cleared his bent over body and he stood up into the rock, cracking his head wide open. My parents never took him to a hospital, oh no they stitch him up with a sowing thread and needle in the tent, his screams will be something I never forget.

After time we would resume civilization again, you could say for as mature and well-rounded as we were, we were also very feral. Don’t get me wrong my strange upbringing has made me stronger and smarter than most people, and my mother did teach me many things like accepting yourself, loving yourself, but all that would be thrown out the window years later as you will find out the semantics of my psychologically damaged psyche.

So being as we missed a lot of school due to homelessness, moving a lot or whatever the case was, I become the new kid, smelly kid, poor kid and kids are cruel so I endured a lot of bullying growing up. Years would go on moving town to town, reservation to reservation as my brother’s father was native, in and out of women shelters. For years the same day in and day out life style, poor, living out of food banks for food as well as Christmas gifts each year, me still raising my brother and my parents still using and abusing.

Finally my mother and brother’s father would hit a bump, the drug and physical abuse became too much, as my brother’s father had a shot gun to my mother’s head, ready to put me up for prostitution at age 11. My mother finally got the good sense to leave him that night, called the cops and left.

Now after about 15 years away from home my mother moved us back to her home town in North Battleford Saskatchewan. My mother’s family seen her as the black sheep, which is funny considering the amount of sexual abuse and physical abuse she endured all those years, on top of the incest that I would find out about years later and had to experience myself. It would be in this town my mother would meet my step dad, now with this new relationship we would not be as poor, only move once a year, but it was just as toxic as the first two.

I would find out years later about the chronic methamphetamine use and mental abuse both experienced from my mom and my brother. The horrors my brother had to endure, makes my heart heavy even still to this day. I would become a daddy’s girl and my brother a mama’s boy, and our family would split down the middle; by about 13 I started to realize the parade of men my mom had brought into our life, and it was then I started to notice why I had a strong dislike for her, why I didn’t respect her. My mom chose to put men in her life before her own children, constantly destroying us, hurting us never truly loving us.

I finally couldn’t handle home life anymore; she raised me to be self-sufficient since I was born, so fuck it. I set off into the world alone as I always had been. My brother seen me as his mother and begged me not to leave him there with them, but I couldn’t take him with me, it broke my heart but I just couldn’t. When I moved out my mother and step father got back together for a few more years, at age 17 they split for the 3rd and final time. I moved to Lloydminster Alberta where my family was, a few years on my own and alone in another city got me home sick and I missed my dysfunctional family. My mom had already begun with the string of new men pushing me and my brother aside yet again.

When I was 18 just shortly after my mother and step father separated, I told my mother I wanted to continue and maintain a relationship with my step father, as I loved him more than my own mother, he guided me, understood me, punished me when I needed it, helped round me into an intelligent and good woman. She did not take kindly to this one bit; she told me “You need to choose me or him?” I told her she was being irrational and dumb, and told her I want both, and she told me to never speak to her again, I tried to make contact a couple of times with no response. I had given up 7 years went by before she reached out to me.

During those 7 years I had little contact with my brother as well, as his life was a mess like mine, she abandoned him at 14 for some new man of course, then my mom would move him into her home years later and the travesties he would experience make me sick to my stomach. How could a mother let so much happen to her babies, or be responsible for the hurt.

The scary thing for me is I may not be crazy like my mother, but I have learnt behaviors of hers that affect my life, biggest one being putting men before myself, before my family and that has added to my mental anguish. I would grew up with emotional detachment issues, abandonment issues, all these causing me to be clingy in relationships at times,  attention seeking behavior as well as having a hard time dealing with my reality, and altering it in my head to what makes more sense to me or how I rather it be. I suffer from the loss of my childhood and it affects my daily life, some people enjoy my child like wonder but it’s an issue. Ultimately my upbringing is my biggest strength but also my biggest downfall.  As I am writing this I am just learning about myself, and I am on the road to recovery. For more stories about me and my thoughts and opinions on life stay tuned for more, I will keep you posted.




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