Biography, Prt. 1

So, I had a meeting with a counseller, ugh, but it was for my sister.  We started out talking about her anyways, then the sneaky woman got it turned to me.  Somewhere in our convo it came about that I should write down my life, and show it to somebody.  Anybody, she said.  She told me it would help with alot of anger I apparentley have that I suppressed instead of showing at the time.  She also said that it would help with my resentment over my lost childhood.  I wasn't aware I had any, but she is the trained proffesional.  So I chose to do it here.  In bits.  I mean, this way, someone, somewhere, reads it, but I don't have to watch thier faces, or deal with them on a daily face to face basis afterwards.  Sooooo....The Backstory
 
So my mum met my dad over a CB radio.  I used to think it was romantic.  She already had one marriage under her belt, and she had left him after he beat her one too many times.  She had two kids, April was actually an affair baby, my mum slept with a married man(unknowingly) got pregnant, then he turned tail and ran, telling her he wanted nothing to do with her or the baby and he would deny everything.  So she married her first husband and had my older brother.  That husband beat her, then he hit thier son.  She took a brick to his car windshield, packed up and left.  Years later she met my dad.  He had a beard when they first met she used to tell me, and when she commented on a date that she didn't like beards, he had it shaved for the next date.  He was kind, courteous.  He opened doors for her, he told her she was beautiful, he married her.  My family tells this story, how, at thier wedding, my older sibs, who were 4 and 5, went around while the adults were dancing and tasted their 'beverages'.  My mum and dad spent their wedding night nursing two drunk children.  They never went anywhere for a honeymoon.  Just home.
I was born in the summer of 86.  My dad was smitten.  He had my older siblings, and he loved them, but I was his true first.  And I was a baby.  Mum said he drove home at 40km down the highway, and we had to drive over railroad tracks, and he slowed down to 5km/hr, because he didn't want to jostle me.  She teased him about it relentlessly.  Mum told me that he used to carry me everywhere, and as I got bigger he took me everywhere with him.  I used to go to work with him and play with the dirty car parts, or sit on the floor behind the desk and 'write' up paperwork.
When I was two and a half my  little sister was born.  And my dad was in love all over again.  Mum said he used to take turns taking us places.  That he would lament for hours the night before about who should come.  We moved right before my sister was born, to the city I live in now.  And his new boss wasn't so fond of the idea of kids in the shop so he would take us different places after work.  He would often invite the older two kids, but they were 10 and 11, and had cooler things to do then hang out with their step dad.
Life was decent for awhile.  April was incredibly mean to me, but she always had been.  For as long as I could remember my older sister acted like she hated me.  She locked me in closets when she was babysitting.  She refused to feed me.  She broke my favorite toys in front of me.  I once remember she grabbed me by the hair and slammed my face into the side of the stove, knocking out a tooth.  I told my parents it had just fallen out, I was 6, so it was believable.  I don't know why I didn't tell them the truth.  I tried so hard to get my sister to at least like me.  When I was 5 and she was 13 I tried a cigarette on her insistance, just for praise.  I inhaled, held it like she told me, then ran the three blocks home and vomited in the sink.  I told my mum that I had swallowed a bug while I was riding my bike.  Or once she urged me to say swear words in front of her friends, so I did.  I said what they told me to.  Then she screamed down the stairs to my mum that I was swearing.  My mum asked me, and I told her I had said it.  I got a licking with the belt, but I took it in silence.
When I was 6 and my sister was still only 14 she had turned into a wild child.  She drank, smoked, she would go to parties.  She told me once that she was at this party she wasn't meant to be at, and these girls were threatening to beat her up.  She called my dad, our dad I guess, and he got up at 3am.  Came to the party.  Went inside, got her out, made sure she was okay, took her home, then called the police on the party.  But that didn't stop her.  She partied with older men.
She dated an older man.  She told him she was 17, and it was believable.  She developed early.  He was 21.  They got drunk at a party, they had sex.  April didn't want to, I'm fuzzy on all the details.  But the law counted it as rape.  She lost her virginity that night, and got pregnant.  He was imprisoned for abit.  And she was 14 and about to become a mother.
My parents were upset, but I don't remember any huge repercussions.  My sister got meaner, but hormones ran rampant.  When she was 6 months, I was 7, my little sister was 5, April was 15 by then, and my brother, Kerry, was 14, our dad went on a work trip.
He and April had a huge fight in the kitchen before he left.  I don't know what he said to her, but I remember, clear as day, her standing at the fridge, door open, hand clutching the handle, screaming that she wished he was dead, that she hated him.
I had followed him into the carport and begged him not to go.  I wanted him to stay with us.  He had hugged me, kissed the top of my head, promised me that barbie I had been asking for for weeks, and told me not to worry, he would be back and see me again.
Those were our last words to our father.  He died on that trip.  He had what they labelled a heart attack, though what it technically was, was his heart, just stopped.  He was in his 30s.
My mother was going to a city hours away to complete her red seal chef degree.  She had been gone all week, and she would drive home to be with us for the weekends.  So we were staying with a sitter during that week.  I was in class when the teacher came to me and told me I had to go to the principals office.  I arrived to find my little sister already there.  They told us that we had to go home immediatley.
So we went.  My big sibs were at the school kitty korner to us, so we all met up on the walk home.  I remember being mad, because I had to miss reading, my favorite subject.  We were confused, whey were we going to our house, there would be nobody there, my mum was out of town.
My aunt was there.  She got us all to sit down at first.  Then changed her mind and took the older two into the living room.  They talked for about ten minutes.  Then my pregnant sister stormed out of the house and my brother ran upstairs to his room.
Then she came to us.  She asked us if we remembered where Uncle Rick had gone.  I was old enough, so I told her 'heaven'.  She nodded, then she told us that our dad had gone there.  I remember asking, 'to visit?  to visit Uncle Rick?'  And my aunt started bawling.  And I knew, it wasn't to visit, it was forever.
My little sister crawled under the kitchen table, and I crawled under there with her.  I hugged her and tried to explain to her 5 year old mind, what my 7 year old mind had half figured out.  We sat there, and cried until my mum made it home taht night.
That was the night I started to seriously doubt God.
I'll pick it up later, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow,  but right now it's time to deal with my today life.  I'm hoping this does what she says, but I really doubt it.  I have had happy times in my life, so I don't see how rehashing the bad ones will do anything, but whatever, everything is worth a try, right?