February 14th, 2013
My Struggle, Pain, and Recovery
Unlike most children I was disadvantaged growing up in my picture perfect world with my picture perfect family, but who knew that within who people thought was an ideal home was a child screaming for anyone to come to her rescue. What seemed like forever until I turned eighteen turned into eternity whenever I had to sit and look at the face of my uncle that once again would lay his dirty, perverted hands upon my body. Witnessing my parents on the brink of divorce, my father’s smirk as he walked out the front door every morning while my mother shed tears as she knew exactly where he was headed, to his mistress, his lover, the woman that brought him the joy that my mother obviously couldn’t was torture enough as a young girl to have to see. Through the pain and the torment I grew up laughing at anything that had to do with family because with that all I knew was hurt, frustration and suicidal attempts. From the negativity and the distortion I had to find a way to heal, a way to live where I wouldn’t continue being the bitter individual I grew to be because it was eating slowly at me causing me to fall into a world of depression that I thought only drugs could cure. The journey seemed like it was coming to an end until I heard the screaming of my daughter after I pushed her out of my womb to the screaming of my children as they watched their father beat me time and time again. This is just the beginning of the struggle not only I went through but my children as well, to escape and break the cycle that seemed was poring over into the next generation.
I. What was your family like?
A. Parents’ divorce
B. Military expectations
C. High standards
II. Do you have your own family now?