Part One
My emotions have been all over the place. Frustration, sadness, depression, anxiety. I fight the last two constantly. Since my late teens depression and anxiety have been prevalent. I mentioned being depressed before, and that’s because of the trauma I went through. Living my entire life in abuse, I was groomed, conditioned, and preyed upon by the one person that was supposed to do everything in his power to protect me. Someone I completely trusted.
I would begin hiding things from him. Denying sexual favors and any time he wanted to spend with me. Around this time, my younger sister was out of the house, in and out of placement… My dad won sole custody of my younger brother Bub (bio mom is DB) but not his other brother, he stayed with DB. Which blows my mind till this day… I never understood taking away one child, but leaving the other, then again, as I mentioned DB didn’t allow our youngest brother to have any type of bond or relationship with him.
My dad would marry Daisy, and she would become my stepmom. She became pregnant by my dad, and he was furious. It was her first pregnancy, and he didn’t want any more kids, he didn’t want the responsibility. He forced her to get an abortion, and I remember how devastated she was. I tried my best to support her and comfort her. I remember when we both went to the clinic, and the people outside yelling and berating us without knowing our situation… it was shocking, and overwhelming for a young teen.
I’m kind of going back and forth with the age, but I’m writing as it comes to me… Alot happened that ages and time just blur together. Anyway, a few years later, Daisy became pregnant again, she took precautions, did what society would have required of her “as a woman” but my father never got snipped, or attempted to. It was the woman’s responsibility not to get pregnant while making sure the man’s needs were taken care of whenever he pleased… ugh…
So, Daisy gets pregnant with my kid sister, she is terrified to tell my dad. She wants to keep this baby; she didn’t have that choice the last time. As I said, we were practically best friends, I could talk to her about anything… I told her I would talk to dad on her behalf. I wanted this little bean as much as she did… I fell in love with the baby. I considered myself a very good listener as well as a great convincer, not in a manipulative way. I was good at letting others see different perspectives and such. I somehow convinced my dad to let Daisy have this baby; she wouldn’t be able to go through another termination. I listed the side effects, and mental, emotional and physical defects that could occur. I also mentioned that it wouldn’t be fair for Daisy to get pregnant, doing all she could to prevent it, and not be allowed to keep the baby. I wanted to help take care of this baby, and I really wanted another sibling…
I was seventeen years old when she was born. The most precious little thing I have ever seen. I made a promise to her the first time I held her. I didn’t realize exactly what it would mean until a few short years later. I told my kid sister; I loved her so much. That I would do anything to keep her safe. That I would ALWAYS be there to protect her, and I promised I would never allow anyone to hurt her, no matter what. In that promise, I saw her growing up, being a young teen, going to the prom with her crush, I saw her being in my wedding… I saw her as this perfect little being worth protecting and making sure she has a wonderful life. She was my shadow.
We still lived in the trailer when she was first born. She slept in a bassinet in the living room for a few months. Then when I cleaned up my bedroom, Kid Sister moved into my room with her bassinet. When she got too big for the bassinet, I removed the bunkbeds, and the second closet to make more space. I slept on a cot, similar to one you would see hunters use while camping… and she had a crib. I also was able to have a small, tall dresser, and it was our room, I shared with my baby sister for about two years before we would move again.
I had been going to a charter school at this time also, I was struggling with school still. I failed tenth grade twice and decide that if I didn’t move up by the time I turned eighteen, I would drop out. I spoke to my dad about it, and again, made a sound argument that if I could drop out of high school, I will go to the local community college to work on my GED. We went to the school and told them such, and of course, they offered to help me, and do whatever I needed to succeed… well, sorry to break it to you, but you failed miserably all these years… plus there were issues and things going on with students and teachers that would come out later. I was completely finished with grade school, I wanted nothing more to do with the immature, chaotic, drama filled era of high school. I couldn’t stand it. I signed myself out of school, and immediately went to a GED course.
Let me tell you, when I went to the GED course, and saw the different ages of people working on their GED, it made me so much more comfortable. I didn’t have to deal with childish drama. I wasn’t judged. I worked hard. I understood what was being taught. I proved to myself that I wasn’t an idiot. I wasn’t unteachable. People would take one look at me and already determine I wasn’t worth it. I earned my GED on my own and I was so very proud of myself. My next step was college, and I was even more determined to receive my education.
While in high school, we filled out a worksheet, what type of career would we be interested in. We could only pick three, and then write about why, the pros and cons, and how I would be able to make a difference in that career. My top three choices, in this order where Criminal Justice, Culinary Arts, and Cosmetology. I know, completely different areas in the career fields. When I was filling out college apps, they asked the same thing. Top three career fields of interest. I was so passionate about becoming a cop. I remember feeling so determined to earn that degree, and then earn that badge. I wanted it so badly, I started training. I worked two jobs while doing night classes at the local community college. I worked overnights at a convenience store, and part time security. I kept myself busy. I barely saw my dad, and he would start to take notice.
I also wanted to join the military. It was so strong of an urge that I researched all the branches, researched pros and cons, and everything I could about joining the military. I couldn’t decide on which branch, but I mostly wanted to join the Army or the Marines. I honestly thought if I was determined enough, I would be strong willed enough to join. I wrote an essay, and presented it to my dad. He didnt even take it into consideration. He didnt even think about it.
He said no. It was final. He didn’t want me to go because I would be deployed right after basic. I would be raped and attacked by the men I deployed with. Now I’m not saying that someone else at some point hasn’t gone throw this, I know it’s a possibility… but the way my father laid it out to me like that was like I was looking for a way out, that I would become a whore, and no one would see my worth… My dad had a vindictive way of completely ripping your spirit to shreds and making it seem like HE was the only one who had all of your best interests at heart when in reality, all he was really trying to do was keep that invisible chain tied around my ankle without me realizing, all while smirking and saying “see, I told you so.” Wow, that was a lot…
There’s a lot more to this part of my story, but I am still very bitter and emotional from my last post… I will need to break this one up.
I pray for healing, Lord Jesus, whatever these emotions and frustrations are Lord please reveal them so I can understand how to deal with them. Father God, if it’s Your will, if not Lord, I ask you take this from me Jesus. Heal my heart, calm my spirit and let your work show through this project. In your precious name Jesus, I pray. ~Amen
*Listening to “Design” by UPPERROOM as I type this, Thank you Lord.