Monday, April 30, 2012

Lost and remembered memories

Over the years of my childhood I think my brain gave up and had enough. I have enough memories to piece together my childhood but sadly the stuff a child should remember is lost. I have no birthday memories, Christmas memories, or holiday memories at all. I don't remember any of my teachers names and I only remember one enough to know he drove a magenta colored car and every one laughed with him about it being pink. I also remember he was kind. Pretty much all the stuff normal people remember I forgot. It seems like I would have kept all the good memories and tossed all the bad ones. That would be the logical reaction to my childhood. That must be the one thing about me that isn't logical. So as I write you will see that I skip around a lot. I have trouble remembering stuff all at one time, so I will only be writing about things that are on my mind.

I have been needing to write this out for years. I no longer let it weigh me down, but I have also never fully dealt with it either. I had plenty of counselors over the years. Ones that cried when I told them my story or as they read my file. Some who loved the phrase "I understand". Others just seemed not to know how to deal with me. I did group therapy and single therapy. Nothing. None of it did any good. All I got out of it were labels and medications pushed down my throat. I have been diagnosed as ADD, ADHD, BiPolar, Anxiety disorder, Depression, and Anti Social Personality disorder. My brain races and I have trouble keeping up with my thought process. I also have trouble going to sleep. I'm a bit of a control freak so I do not take medications. I know how to limit things that will cause a problem and work around the issues my brain has. Medications just change who I am, and honestly I love the me I have become. I have no desire to become the "Normal" person. I hope that there never comes a time when pills are my only option.

More of my childhood coming soon.


      I grew up in a coastal town of South Carolina. I grew up in what looked like, from the outside, a normal home in a middle class neighborhood. To all that knew my family we were a happy family. Little did everyone know that we were all things wrong. My mother and father did not work real jobs. My grandparents lived in the same house with us. Every bit of money our family had was dirty money. However I was the child that never went without. By the looks of it I was spoiled rotten.
To this day I wonder if anyone thought how a child with no working parent had all the latest things. My fancy toys were not enough to make my childhood good.
      My childhood consisted of many thing. Rape, molestation, sodomy, massive hate littering, destruction of property, breaking and entering, grave yard stealing, and elderly abuse were just a some of what my childhood consisted of. All of this at my father's lead. A man with a criminal record a mile long in multiple states was the destruction of both myself and in many ways my mother who still remains with him even though she knows all he has done. 
      My father married my mother not long after she turned 18. He was in his mid 30's at the time. My mother had already given birth to a boy. I still don't know what happened, but he ended up growing up with my aunt and I didn't even know he was my brother until I was 12 when my grandmother let it slip. My mother never finished high school. The only life she has ever known has been what my father has taught her to be. I struggle to not make excuses for her. I so desperately want to believe that she wanted what was best for me but was too scared to do it. That somehow fear is what made her choose him over me. That she didn't know what was going on, but in my heart I know that all my excuses will never be enough to make me understand.