Journal entry # 3

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is of me.

Submitted: January 07, 2010

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Submitted: January 07, 2010

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Journal entry#

As a child I wasn’t much of a big fan of my mother. I don’t even think she was a big fan of me either, but I lived with it and her. I am a foster child so I got taken away a lot, leaving family members and not know how to speak my own language was as hard for me then it was for any of my other siblings. I wanted to learn more about my language and stick with my family members, but as an eight year old I had no control over what happened. The reason why I’m in Social Services is because of my own mothers actions, but what happened to me was really what I wanted to speak of. Yelling and screaming for many nights and telling lies about it towards my mother was all I did and the reason why I did was because she would tell me to stop lying and stop being so ridiculous. I couldn’t understand why she had to be like that. I kept everything to myself and today I still do, it’s hard to say things when all you feel is no one understands me and they wont ever. I ran to hide underneath my stairs one day because my mother was drinking, my little brother’s Donovan and Daniel were with me at the time, they were scared but not as much as I was, mom was drunk and she was angry with people, from my own experience she’s abused me before…many times before and the boys didn’t ever see it and I don’t ever want them too.We sat and talked about memories and how we wanted dad to come back, but he was even scared of mom there was no one around everyone had left to go home, I tried to think of something and thinking of it fast was scary. There was a window near us we could just jump out there but by the time we even got there she was standing there looking down on us tearsunraveled themselves as we sat there listening to her scream and yell. She never did anything to us though and that was the good thing, but it marks us today. Some of us probably still think about it especially me. What ever happened at home we leave it at home and that’s that. I know one of us needs to tell and from me I think one of us is going to have to be me. It’s hard and I feel embarrassed to want to talk about such thing.

What if she finds out? What will she do?

I’m 16 years old right now but what she did to me as a child still remains in my mind and I believe it always will. Thinking about it always makes my want to cry. Today I live in Ranch Ehrlo Society and when I try to approach the subject with another individual I cant…I walk away or lead on to another topics


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