The Bright Surrounding the Dark Part 1

4 Nov

So it is about 10pm my time and I am suppose to be all nestled in my bed next to my husband, fast asleep so I can be bright eyed and bushy tail in the morning in order to take my kids to school, then start my day of schooling online. Well as you can see this is not the case. For some reason a voice inside my head is saying I have to get deeper and more personal with my readers then I already have. Crazy I know, but that is the world I live in.

So lets start from the beginning of this sad yet up lifting story I have to tell. First of all as a baby I was refereed to as “one of those welfar babies” you know born to a mother that didn’t care about you and a sorry excuse for a father who should never been allowed to procreate in the first place. Yeah that is me..Hi I am baby number 8. So my entire life I was raised with the knowledge that my mother really didn’t want me, but the bastard of a father wanted more cash aid and food stamps (kind of backfired on him when his sorry ass was locked up, but that is a story that is not mine to tell). For as long as I can remember I was called white trash, okie, scum….So I was well aware of the status my family had in the community.

One of the earliest memories I have is of living in a condemned house with the kitchen roof caving in and a big sinking whole in the backyard where the septic tank use to be. I would understand later on why our house was full of teens, it turned out my older sister and brother where hiding runaways and in turn they would rip off the local packing plant (not sure if that is the technical name for plants that canned foods) just so us younger children could have something to eat at night. Sure my mom got food stamps for us and would spoil us one or two nights out of the month, and then all the good food would be locked in her room and we were left to fight of Ramon noodles for the rest of the month, and believe me the little kids didn’t win very often so there were time I would go three days without eating, hence why we started taking in runaways.

      When the house had gotten to dangerous to living in my mom decided to move us into the town I still live in today. Same story different location. At this time I was five years old and I could not understand why we were living in a women’s backyard full of disease ridden cat’s and not allowed to go into the house with the adults unless it was to go to the bathroom or take a weekly shower and the three youngest girls has to take one together and we couldn’t be in there for more than five minutes total. At night sometimes I can still hear one of my  older brother and two older sisters crying from exhaustion and yet still trying to keep the bugs from crawling all over my second youngest sister and myself. Where was my mom you ask while all this was going on, why she was in the house living it up with husband number four I think, and the women who allowed us to stay.

So after the sister who is closest to me in ago getting a bad case of head lice and me wanting to be supportive we both shaved our heads. I cried so hard that day for her and I.  The following day it felt like we were saved because a CPS worker came and told us she had argues with Section 8 (low in come housing program) and they finally said they couldn’t see why we couldn’t put three girls in one room and two boys in another (at this time my second oldest sister split, she was pregnant and couldn’t handle the stress, and my older brother stayed where he was so he could be with his son)

So let me do a recap for you cause I know I have confused you trying to keep the privacy of family members in place.  I said I was lucky number 8, so I have an older half brother I really have nothing to do with ( I think it is because he is ashamed of me, but we will get to my reasoning for that in time) I have a half sister I never see and would love to, I just think the memories are to hard for her. These two people I believe at this point are in their early to mid forty’s (if either of you read this don’t get upset if I am wrong I haven’t seen you since well lets not talk about that either) Then there is the older brother who has always been a bright light when I have seen him, even if that one time I mistook saying  hi to mean kicking him in the family jewels. By the way I am still sorry about that! An older sister who tried her best with the skills and the hand she was dealt with. Another older brother to this day I will always consider my knight and Shinning armor. Remember the day mom told me I was a worthless piece of shit because I forgot to clean that plate, and how she went on to tell me I was a mistake and she never wanted me. How you came to my room and picked me up not caring I was getting tears and snot balls all over one of your favorite Giant shirts and you put me in your car and drove me to another town almost two hours away just so I could calm down….well I do and there is nothing I can ever do to repay you for it. Then there is the littlest brother out of all three that was nothing but torment and torture our whole freaking childhood. One by one the older ones would leave and that meant less protection for the ones who remained my sister who is five years older then me, and the one I would say basically raised me and taught me about the person who I wanted to be ( I know I stumbled along the path, but I swear C I am going to get there and it will be in a big part because of you!) in essences she was my mother. She stayed for as long as she could I know she did, but she was getting hurt and mentally torn down just like the rest of us and I saw the day when she finally felt free, and that day was her 18th birthday. She packed her bags and was out of there as soon as she could be, and I don’t begrudge her that…I would have done the same thin. Then it was just me and my sister that was barley older then me. Did I feel abandoned in a way? Yeah because every single one of our siblings knew what he was capable of and the fact that he was my mothers favorite. They knew they were leaving us in hell, but they didn’t know what else they could do.





So I am going to cut off here cause it’s late and this is an emotional drain for me to relieve these memories, but something is telling me I need to. It is going to help in some way either big or small….And in the end that is all I want to do, is help. Much Love, Remember what you give out is what you get in return and God loves you, he makes no mistakes!


3 Responses to “The Bright Surrounding the Dark Part 1”

  1. MrsPicasso (@mrs_picasso) November 5, 2012 at 12:12 am #

    Thanks that you was so honest!

    • MrsPicasso (@mrs_picasso) November 5, 2012 at 12:13 am #

      Thanks that you were so honest!
      hard stuff!

    • kittygotclaws28 November 5, 2012 at 7:47 am #

      I will be adding to it. I call it the roller coaster of my life. My whole purpose in this is to help at least just one person through my personal experiences…then it is all worth the tears I shed while actively remembering my past.

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