Biography, Prt. 4
So I'll start this off by a little 'miss ya' to my dad. One of the hardest things to deal with as an athiest is letting my dad go. If I don't believe in Heaven and Hell I can't believe he is an angel. It's almost enough to make me want to cling onto the nearest faith and believe he is watching over me. But I think that when you are gone, your gone. The spirit of the deceased is in people's memories and hearts. So dad, I miss you! I used to spend this day sitting at the park and watching kids play with their dads, then decided that was doing nothing. So now I go out to the grave with my little sister and then we go out for lunch and try and remember as many good things as we can about him. It's not alot since we were so young, but it's our way of paying tribute to what an amazing man we were told he was. Photographs and second hand memories are really what I have left of him. Sometimes I worry I don't miss the actaul man as much as I miss the concept of having a dad.
So we found out about my sisters addiction. We fought endlessley with her. Her kids went to stay with various people for lengths of time, but legally she was still the guardian. So she got the child support and child tax, and smoked it right up. She denied a problem, told us she could stop anytime. But it had gotten her completely.
When I was 22, three years of fighting with her, I got a phone call at work. It was Kels, then 13, wanting to know if I had seen her mother. I told her no, she wasn't at home? And then Kels told me that they hadn't seen her in almost five days. That they hadn't gone to school. That they had been eating nothing but chef boyardee and snacks. That they had been holed up alone. That was the breaking point. I was done 'haggeling' with Childrens Services. I phoned the worker that we had been talking to and told her that if they didn't take my sisters kids away then I would take it to the newspapers(I wouldn't of done that, too shy, but she didn't call my bluff) and that I would go to the police, and anywhere above her head I could.
The kids were taken away. And I don't know if my sister ever fully understood that I wasn't the only one trying, all she ever glommed onto was that I was the only one who suceeded. It was just another tick on the long list she kept of things I had done to cross her.
Her oldest went to her father. I know I told you she was raped. But I honestly don't think it was meant. He had been in her life for awhile. Kels does not know how her parents created her, and we decided not to tell her. Her father was steady, he had married, had more kids, he worked. He was everything her volatile mother wasn't.
The middle one Casey, didn't have that sort of luck. Her father, the abuser, was a drunk who lived in a trailer with a different girl each week. He worked when he wanted, and he had yet to mentally mature past 13. Casey still adored him, she would rave about how he played soccor, she would cry when he bailed on a promised visit(and that was often). She was upset when they deemed him an unfit parent. Instead, they called up 22 year old me and asked if Joey and I would mind raising a 12 year old. I wasn't going to say no, no matter what Joey said, but he was on board with me.
The youngest stayed with his father, my sisters addiction ripping her reasons to have him back to shreds.
That year was so challenging! When Marlow hits 11/12 Imma ready! Casey came with her own set of problems. She had been neglected, sexually abused by more then one of my sisters male friends. She had been hit, she had been left to her own, she had grown a shell so she could survive it all. We had to take courses on our weekends to deal with it. I learned about why she hoarded food into every crevices in her room, I learned about why she talked back. I learned alot. But what I learned the most was how much I despised my sister for what she had done to this little girl. We signed her up for soccor, and my sister came to one game. We bought her a new bike, and she would use it to go visit her mother. We ended up cutting off all visitation with her mum.
Was there resentment? You betcha. But after a visit with her mother, all our progress with her went out the window. She loved her mother, and I get that, but she also hated her mother. We needed to get her to a point of healthy where she could see her mom and not self destruct. We used to talk about her mother as if she was 2 people. Her mother(before the drugs) and her other mother. Casey would cry, and say she would take the other mother if she could just be with her mother. It took all I had that year not to bash my sister in front of her daughter.
Unfortunatley, with the stress and the anger she just couldn't shake she was unable to break away from my sister. My sister convinced her if she ran away again and again they would take her from me and give her back to her mom. She was half right.
It was the scariest few weeks of my life. Out looking for a 12 year old in the middle of the night. The police telling you they could do nothing. Worrying if she found some of her moms 'friends' or if they found her. After she ran away three times Children's Services decided to take her. They told me that I was the only solid link Casey had to love and they didn't want it damaged beyond repair by her constant running away.
She was taken and not sent to her mother, but to an orphanage essentially. She was one among many unhomed children. And it killed her. I think she realized exactly what she had given up just for her mother. Her hatred grew, but her love didnt' diminish.
Eventually Casey was placed with my mum. Permenantley. My sister will never get custody of any of her kids back. They are 16, 14 and 12 now.
My sister got really bad after her kids were taken. She stopped showering, she started prostituting herself for the drug. She got terrible crack bugs. She started smoking crack laced with meth. I let her into my home on Christmas. She stayed for the opening of the presents then had to leave. Joey agreed to drive her where she had to go. What no one noticed was that she had gone into the room where we had placed the gifts and loaded up her bags(she was homeless and always had bags) with her kids gifts.
She took them and by the time I found out, and hunted her down to a skeevy trailer where there were bodies draped everywhere and so much smoke my eyes watered, she had already pawned them for drug money. Try explaining to kids that their mother stole their Christmas presents to feed her addiction. That was the last time my sister was allowed in my home.
But then she got picked up for traffiking and intent to sell. And it wasn't going to be a slap on the wrist like all the other charges she had gotten. She was facing prison. And that started her road to recovery. She was months sober for her sentencing. She was sent to an all female prison that speacialized in drug addiction. Then to a rehab, then to a sober living program where she is now.
That pretty much wraps it up....life is life now. I have a daughter, we own a house, I'm too scared to say 'I do' but one day may get there. April and I have a tenuous relationship at best. She informed me that when I came along, dad stopped loving her. That's why she hated me. I'm sure that's not true, but that's how she felt and I can't change that. My Uncle Lyman was caught with another child, he was sent to jail and later murdered there. It's become my family's deep dark secret, and they still don't know I was one in a long list of little kids he molested. My nieces aren't very productive members of the world right now. They have alot of demons to battle through. I don't see my nephew, his dad cut off all communications with us when he found out about the addiction. He doesn't even know he has cousins. My brother lives close by with a wife and two kids. My little sister also lives close, with one son and her boyfriend who can't keep a job for more then a week. But she is a big girl now, and I have to let her make her own mistakes. I'm not cooking her macaroni and tucking her into bed anymore, she's a grown woman.
I've written it all down, and worse then sending it out to one person, I sent it out on the interent. No getting it back now. Not a word of it. Hopefully it gets rid of my apparent anger and regret. But honestly, when I talk about it, write it down, it feels like it happened to someone else. Not to me. I'm not uber successful, but I have made a decent life for myself. It's like those are the ashes I left behind when I crawled out of the fire....and it's time they just blew away. I've always thought of maybe child psychology, writing, or addictions counselling as possible careers for me. But I'm 24, that ship has pretty much sailed. I have a family now, school isn't a realistic option for me. Maybe one day, when I'm older, I can pursue something. But for now, it's all about making sure the life I have worked so hard to build doesn't come crashing down. That Marlow has to suffer none of what I did. That I have enough money to spoil my mum at least once a month to show her how much I appreciate all the things she did for us. All the things she gave up. That I wake up every morning, do a head count of my family mentally, and know that they are all still alive. For now, it's about trying to forget what was, hold onto what is, and hope for what will be.
So we found out about my sisters addiction. We fought endlessley with her. Her kids went to stay with various people for lengths of time, but legally she was still the guardian. So she got the child support and child tax, and smoked it right up. She denied a problem, told us she could stop anytime. But it had gotten her completely.
When I was 22, three years of fighting with her, I got a phone call at work. It was Kels, then 13, wanting to know if I had seen her mother. I told her no, she wasn't at home? And then Kels told me that they hadn't seen her in almost five days. That they hadn't gone to school. That they had been eating nothing but chef boyardee and snacks. That they had been holed up alone. That was the breaking point. I was done 'haggeling' with Childrens Services. I phoned the worker that we had been talking to and told her that if they didn't take my sisters kids away then I would take it to the newspapers(I wouldn't of done that, too shy, but she didn't call my bluff) and that I would go to the police, and anywhere above her head I could.
The kids were taken away. And I don't know if my sister ever fully understood that I wasn't the only one trying, all she ever glommed onto was that I was the only one who suceeded. It was just another tick on the long list she kept of things I had done to cross her.
Her oldest went to her father. I know I told you she was raped. But I honestly don't think it was meant. He had been in her life for awhile. Kels does not know how her parents created her, and we decided not to tell her. Her father was steady, he had married, had more kids, he worked. He was everything her volatile mother wasn't.
The middle one Casey, didn't have that sort of luck. Her father, the abuser, was a drunk who lived in a trailer with a different girl each week. He worked when he wanted, and he had yet to mentally mature past 13. Casey still adored him, she would rave about how he played soccor, she would cry when he bailed on a promised visit(and that was often). She was upset when they deemed him an unfit parent. Instead, they called up 22 year old me and asked if Joey and I would mind raising a 12 year old. I wasn't going to say no, no matter what Joey said, but he was on board with me.
The youngest stayed with his father, my sisters addiction ripping her reasons to have him back to shreds.
That year was so challenging! When Marlow hits 11/12 Imma ready! Casey came with her own set of problems. She had been neglected, sexually abused by more then one of my sisters male friends. She had been hit, she had been left to her own, she had grown a shell so she could survive it all. We had to take courses on our weekends to deal with it. I learned about why she hoarded food into every crevices in her room, I learned about why she talked back. I learned alot. But what I learned the most was how much I despised my sister for what she had done to this little girl. We signed her up for soccor, and my sister came to one game. We bought her a new bike, and she would use it to go visit her mother. We ended up cutting off all visitation with her mum.
Was there resentment? You betcha. But after a visit with her mother, all our progress with her went out the window. She loved her mother, and I get that, but she also hated her mother. We needed to get her to a point of healthy where she could see her mom and not self destruct. We used to talk about her mother as if she was 2 people. Her mother(before the drugs) and her other mother. Casey would cry, and say she would take the other mother if she could just be with her mother. It took all I had that year not to bash my sister in front of her daughter.
Unfortunatley, with the stress and the anger she just couldn't shake she was unable to break away from my sister. My sister convinced her if she ran away again and again they would take her from me and give her back to her mom. She was half right.
It was the scariest few weeks of my life. Out looking for a 12 year old in the middle of the night. The police telling you they could do nothing. Worrying if she found some of her moms 'friends' or if they found her. After she ran away three times Children's Services decided to take her. They told me that I was the only solid link Casey had to love and they didn't want it damaged beyond repair by her constant running away.
She was taken and not sent to her mother, but to an orphanage essentially. She was one among many unhomed children. And it killed her. I think she realized exactly what she had given up just for her mother. Her hatred grew, but her love didnt' diminish.
Eventually Casey was placed with my mum. Permenantley. My sister will never get custody of any of her kids back. They are 16, 14 and 12 now.
My sister got really bad after her kids were taken. She stopped showering, she started prostituting herself for the drug. She got terrible crack bugs. She started smoking crack laced with meth. I let her into my home on Christmas. She stayed for the opening of the presents then had to leave. Joey agreed to drive her where she had to go. What no one noticed was that she had gone into the room where we had placed the gifts and loaded up her bags(she was homeless and always had bags) with her kids gifts.
She took them and by the time I found out, and hunted her down to a skeevy trailer where there were bodies draped everywhere and so much smoke my eyes watered, she had already pawned them for drug money. Try explaining to kids that their mother stole their Christmas presents to feed her addiction. That was the last time my sister was allowed in my home.
But then she got picked up for traffiking and intent to sell. And it wasn't going to be a slap on the wrist like all the other charges she had gotten. She was facing prison. And that started her road to recovery. She was months sober for her sentencing. She was sent to an all female prison that speacialized in drug addiction. Then to a rehab, then to a sober living program where she is now.
That pretty much wraps it up....life is life now. I have a daughter, we own a house, I'm too scared to say 'I do' but one day may get there. April and I have a tenuous relationship at best. She informed me that when I came along, dad stopped loving her. That's why she hated me. I'm sure that's not true, but that's how she felt and I can't change that. My Uncle Lyman was caught with another child, he was sent to jail and later murdered there. It's become my family's deep dark secret, and they still don't know I was one in a long list of little kids he molested. My nieces aren't very productive members of the world right now. They have alot of demons to battle through. I don't see my nephew, his dad cut off all communications with us when he found out about the addiction. He doesn't even know he has cousins. My brother lives close by with a wife and two kids. My little sister also lives close, with one son and her boyfriend who can't keep a job for more then a week. But she is a big girl now, and I have to let her make her own mistakes. I'm not cooking her macaroni and tucking her into bed anymore, she's a grown woman.
I've written it all down, and worse then sending it out to one person, I sent it out on the interent. No getting it back now. Not a word of it. Hopefully it gets rid of my apparent anger and regret. But honestly, when I talk about it, write it down, it feels like it happened to someone else. Not to me. I'm not uber successful, but I have made a decent life for myself. It's like those are the ashes I left behind when I crawled out of the fire....and it's time they just blew away. I've always thought of maybe child psychology, writing, or addictions counselling as possible careers for me. But I'm 24, that ship has pretty much sailed. I have a family now, school isn't a realistic option for me. Maybe one day, when I'm older, I can pursue something. But for now, it's all about making sure the life I have worked so hard to build doesn't come crashing down. That Marlow has to suffer none of what I did. That I have enough money to spoil my mum at least once a month to show her how much I appreciate all the things she did for us. All the things she gave up. That I wake up every morning, do a head count of my family mentally, and know that they are all still alive. For now, it's about trying to forget what was, hold onto what is, and hope for what will be.
Replies
Thank you for sharing your story. You are a wonderful individual and i would say have grown up to be a fabulous person. I will say a prayer that things keep getting better and better each day!!!
Your story is truly amazing. Nothing will stop you. I believe you can do whatever you want to do, including child psychology, writing or addictions. You are a real hero in a world full of some pretty crappy people.
You have an amazing life story. I hope that you have the power to heal as you get older. I don\'t share your views on athiesm but I will say I agree with you that when you are an athiest, death would be very hard to deal with and it would make you want to cling to faith of some kind.
Your story truly is amazing....and to know that you went through all of that and have turned out to be who you are today is amazing. Not everyone turns their lfe good like you did. You seem like a great woman and a wonderful
Mom. Do you mind
Me asking what happened with our brother after he was sent away? How is his relationship wig you and tour family? You don\'t have to answer if you don\'t want to. You are are brave strong woman and I admire your strength.
no I\'ll answer. Once my uncle was busted my sister came clean. My brother was proven innocent. He had spent many years already in foster care, so he chose not to come home. He eventually ended up being robbed(they peeled the carpet off of his floors!) and his foster mom passed away, so he came home to us. My little sister and he had a rough start, but he says he forgives her for what she did. And he says in a way, it saved him. He wouldn\'t of survived many more beatings. They permenantly damaged his knees with those broom sticks, and he has scars where he had been cut open. Now they get along as good as most brothers and sisters lol. My brother and I are close. I used to hang out with him and his friends even though they are seven years older then I am. I always just seemed to fit in with the older bunch. Even now, though I barely see him because his wife is sort of a witch, when we do get together it\'s great. My grandmother has never forgiven him though. She feels, in her heart, that my sister wouldn\'t of fingered him if he wasn\'t at fault. Even though she knows all about Lyman.
Anyone can ask me anything. I figure the best way to do what the shrink said is to just purge. Nothing is off limits.
Wow. I\'m really behind in journals, but this is quite a journal. Don\'t think 24 means you are too oldfor one of those careers. I was 24 when my oldest was born and went back to school at 26. It took a bit of time and planning but I managed to earn a BA and teaching credential. I worked part time. It can be done slowly without taking away from your little one.
I agree with Jenn - when I was 24 I thought I was past it too =) I did my degree after that age.
One reflection I have on all this is that, because you literally had to grow up fast so you could care for and protect others, your own childhood was cut short. Caring for others comes naturally to you now. You feel responsible for checking on their wellbeing. And why not, when you were surrounded by so much turmoil that you learned mostly how to fear the consequences people who were out of control. Diverting all that caretaking energy towards yourself is going to be a challenge but you are well on your way. I hope you listen to all the affirmation you are getting from those who comment on your journal. This is an example of others caring about YOU, and the tables being turned.