Seclusion – (4)
The kind of seclusion I am talking about is the seclusion of your family and friends from your life because you know deep down that they wouldn’t approve of what is happening.
For all of those following me along in my journey through life, I left off with my mom going home with the bartender (A blonde walks into a Bar post). We’ll just call him John. Now my mom had already been introduced to smoking weed by my dad and his friends but this was a whole new experience. She quickly moved in with John taking me with her. He was extremely aggressive and didn’t hide who he was to anyone, including my mom’s family, and they were all worried about where this looked like it was headed. Although, it ended up much worse than any of them imagined.
My mom’s life quickly became John and everything John related, which included the drugs-distribution- and the bar. The drugs were kept in our apartment, which was no place for any adult – let alone a kid. She never cleaned or cooked and was now high most of the time. Did I mention she was pregnant again? Yes, reckless and without care she became pregnant while using drugs and helping to distribute them. My dad had now made arrangements for visitation and would pick me up on Saturdays to spend the day at the park with me. Now two years old, I honestly have little memories of swinging on the swings at the park. I can’t figure out whether I actually recall this or if its a memory planted by the stories I’ve been told. In any case, John had become extremely violent by this time and it was common for mom’s eyes to be swollen shut and for her to be covered in bruises. I wasn’t any exception to this violence but it was better hidden on my body. My dad would come to pick me up for our trip to the park and my mom would talk to him through a darkened screen door. he knew something was up and had heard horrible things about John but didn’t know exactly what to think. My mom stopped seeing my grandparents quite a while ago and wouldn’t return anyone’s phone calls. They had stopped by randomly to see see her but she would never let them in and would only talk through this dark screen of hers. They knew she was pregnant but didn’t know how far along or when she was due.
One Saturday, my dad came to pick me up and I was quickly ushered out the screen door. The door was slammed behind me without a hello-good bye- kiss my ass or anything. My dad took me to the local park like he did every Saturday. I remember this day, or at least I think I do, and can still feel the wind in my hair as my dad pushes me on the swings. Then I flinched in pain and my dad stopped pushing. He stood there for a moment not sure what to do. Slowly he lifted the back of my shirt and saw that my back was covered in welts and an imprint of a man’s belt buckle. Packing me back up in the car, he sped back to my mom and John’s house while taking his knife out of the glove compartment. He burst through the front door with out knocking and found John laying on the couch. He put the knife to John’s neck and threatened to kill him if he ever touched me again. John laughed at him knowing he wouldn’t do anything more than threaten. Looking around the room he noticed the drugs layed out on the coffee table, cocaine was their drug of choice. He saw the disgusting state the house was in, ridden with drugs and moldy dishes. My mom was slumped over in the corner of the room, not truly aware of what was going on. My dad decided at that moment he would have to fight for custody of me.
But he left me there, with them.
Wow. Not sure there is anything else to say.
Say anything you like. I know that some of the material I am going to write is very dark. That’s why I am not continuing the story with this EVERY post but it is therapeutic for me to write. I appreciate everyone who reads because it gives me the courage to keep writing. I welcome everyone’s thoughts.
I can’t think of much else to say either, but it’s good you made it through all this to become the great person you are.
And reading gives courage, why yes it does! So here’s to your courage to continue! *raises imaginary glass*
Thanks for the toast! Imaginary glass raising is always welcome here.
You know, from what I have read so far, you seem to have led a very atypical life, and been subjected to shit that no child – or adult, should be subjected to. Have you ever thought about writing a memoir of some sort? Thanks for sharing – though I don’t know you ‘personally,’ I support you
I definitely have, that’s for sure, and I have only just started sharing this story. I have thought about writing it, only because it was suggested to me, but haven’t found the strength to do it until now. Most of this stuff I have never talked about before. So, I am writing here – for now, and may put it all together in the end to see where it takes me. Thanks for your support. It really is appreciated!
If you put it into book form, I would happily edit
I’ve got to put that English lit degree to good use!
That’s definitely something I would consider but I wouldn’t even know how to put it in book form.
I have no words. This may sound weird but it’s like a train wreck, it’s not a ‘nice’ story, yet I won’t be able to stop reading. Kwim?
We are in the process of our second public adoption and these are the situations we hear about all the time with the children in the system. I keep hoping in my heart for a really awesome outcome. Obviously things turned out ok because you are alive today, but ‘awesome’ is still what I hope for.
Keep writing!
It is like a train wreck for sure, I can’t deny that. I’ve been told that before so it’s no shock to me that you chose that term.
Thanks for reading.
“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.” Steve Jobs – Apple co-Founder
You are a truly a survivor!
Thank you, and thank you for taking the time to stop by and share your thoughts!
I’m hoping justice was served. To harbor such feelings must be painful. And finally letting them out on a blog must give you some relief. These are things you never get over. But they do make you a better person.
I look forward to more parts of your story every day. Thank you so much for sharing
Thank YOU for reading. I will be posting the next part tomorrow for sure.
What an arsehole (John). When someone’s story has an effect on me – it kind of stays with me for a while. It’s not only the shit you had to go through which obviously in itself is horrendous, but it’s the way you take the reader in – I know it’s been commented on before, but you really should think seriously about taking up writing.
I am actually starting to consider this. Ann has offered to edit if I write it up. I’m not quite sure how to get started though. I really have just been writing from the beginning, the way I would want to be reading it. I am glad that I am finally in a strong enough place that I am able to share. I hope that this story, in its entirety, reaches one person in their struggle so they know they are not alone. That’s how I felt most of my life. Its a horrible feeling. I really appreciate your thoughts and encouragement. Thanks so much for taking the time to read. I’ll be posting the next segment tomorrow.
I would actually hug you right now. And myself.
There’s only one way I’d turn down a hug. You’re not a smelly, creepy guy sitting on a park bench with his hand down his pants, are you?
Uhhhhhhhhhhhh