I don't even know where to begin....how about my very first memories.
I think my earliest life changing memory is my mother loading all of us kids into an old pick up truck and driving us to Social Services to drop us off. I screamed and cried. I was 5 at the time. I knew something was wrong. I begged her not to leave us. I don't remember my father at all. I know he was there I just don't remember him. There were 4 of us kids. We all ended up in different foster homes. I remember most every day of that year of my life.
My father is and always has been an alcoholic. When we got out of foster care we moved to an apartment right next door to a bar. Our father spent more time there than he did at home. When we wanted to see him or needed anything we had to go into the bar to get him.
I was around 10 yrs old when he came home calling me a cunt, a whore, a slut...names I had no idea what they meant but knew I wasn't one of them. I was a pretty kid...long dark hair, breasts a lil bigger than most and a perfect body. I guess that set me up for being the talk of the bar room. About a year later is when he started coming home and accussing me of all kinds of god awful things....the beatings began. My sister shared a room with me. He would usually get me when I wasn't in my room and everyone else would hide. My brothers under their bunkbed as soon as they heard him coming up the stairs. Then no matter where I was he would come and find me. I would scream and scream and no one would help. My mother worked over nights so was never home when he hit me. He was never home when she was period. My most vivid beating is when he pulled me out of my bed by my hair cause one of his bar room buddies to him I had sex with a neighborhood boy. He was pounding my head off the floor...I thought I was truly going to die...my sister, 5 yrs younger, jumped on his back and started pounding on him. He threw her across the room and walked out of our room like nothing ever happened. We held eachother and cried and cried. I was usually made to stay home when I had visible bruises but all my bruises were under my clothes so I went...forgetting it was a gym day. I refused to get undressed. Was sent to principle and for the first time told what had happened to me. I was put in foster home for a month and then returned to my family as if nothing ever happened. Of course the beatings began again! They continued until I was 14 yrs old and I started fighting back.
Today I live in my parents home at my mother's request. My father had a stroke 2 yrs ago on July 4th and then had carrotted artery surgery...while in hospital went into delusion, violent state that they were unable to control. They told us then that the stroke had triggered the onset of dementia.
My father has always been a miserable man. He now is a miserable man you can not remember shit!! He is mean, he is miserable, he is verbally abusive to my mother, he makes all guests feel unwanted and is just unbearable. A week ago he had a violent episode that he attacked me. Verbally assaulting me with the most horrible things. Telling me he has hated me since birth, calling me all kinds of filthy names...came at me with a fire poker. A week later another episode that he basically did the same to my mother, name calling, his target was wanting me and my husband out of his house. He called 911 and slammed phone down...none of us realized that the call had actually gone through as he is legally blind. The police responded as he continued his rampage and ended up being taken away in cuffs. He threatened to kill the cunt? Not sure if that is me or my mother. Burn the house down. He would be back to get us. ONce to the hospital it went downhill...the doctor at the hospital believed my father. I felt 11 yrs old again. He says our house is covered in dog shit, it's filthy, it's a total pig sty and we are destroying it. Our house is clean. I vacuum almost everyday. I mop the floors once a week, I clean the bathrooms once a week. Dishwasher is run as soon as full.
He it totally delusional and demented. My mother is terrified to be alone with him. We all sleep with our doors locked.
I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring but I am at the point where I don't think I am strong enough to cope with all of this. He tells me he hates me and always has. He calls me the filthiest names. He says we are using them. His tirades just cut me to the quick! I'm losing control and I don't know what my next move should be!!
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