I am sure it started at birth but since I can’t remember back that far, (I do good to remember everything at the store), I will go back as far as I can.
You may want to get comfortable or even schedule shifts because this could prove to be quite a little venture here if you have the patience to bear with me. If you are like me, (I am nosey and you will finish this story with me, just joking). You will see throughout my story that humor was my survival when all else failed me.
Before I start this story you need to know that I did truly love my mom but I hated the mother she was. She had lots of men and I often got in her way. I was a product of one of those men. I finally met my real father when I was 29years old he died 6 weeks after I met him. Happy reunion huh? Thanks again Mom!
My Mom was a very mentally and physically abusive self centered alcoholic, whore, legalized drug addict, hypochondriac, habitual liar!!!
My first recollection was when I was 3 and this man my mother was living with had these meat hooks (or as he called brat hooks)hanging on the doorways in our house. When I needed to be out of the way he would hang me up on one by my panties. To this day I HATE WEDGIES. That is all I remember of him except he was as tall as a tree and blonde hair. I just knew that I would have a permanent wedgie from those things.
Next man in her life was a bar friend that demanded I stay in my room when he visited which was quite often for long periods of time. This was the first time I have ever seen a naked man. Scary at my age! Mom naked was no picnic either. Neither one of them was centerfold material.
I saw them drink, fall down, fight, kiss, make-up, drink, fight some more, and oh yea the sex (god was that gross). I didn’t understand all the noises whether it was pain or gain. Then I wondered how you could let someone beat the hell out of you then go to bed with them. It was that cycle that happened over and over. Just don’t forget, Mom was 5’ 11”, 180lbs. No lightweight and she did her share of the fighting. It was like she had to have it. Things would be going good and she would start a fight just to make up I thought.
OK, then I guess this man got old to her as so many have.

Along came my step-dad (poor old sole) he was such a good man, or so I thought. He had so many things going for him. 1.Good paying job (owned his own semi-truck)
2. Never been married = naive
3. Never had kids of his own = loving
4.Worshiped my mom = easy to work
5.Liked to drink like my mom = put out money for booze
6.(and the most vulnerable of all) He believed
everything mom told him. =
sucker

Last but not least PUT MOM ON HIS CHECKING ACCOUNT
(MAJOR MISTAKE) = she
left him with nothing
I was 4 or 5, I think, when dad came into my life. He was always on the road so all I can remember is him coming and going all the time until I was about 8-9 yrs. Old and he caught Mom running around when she wrecked the car DUI . I remember he asked me where she was, I told him. He came home to FLA from Ohio and she lied her way out of it. (She had left me by myself for 4 days). He was there when she came back home. He beat the crap out of me for lying on my mother as he called her (I had a better name for her). When he left, she beat me again for telling. Either way ILOST. So at that point I really didn’t care when she came or went and who she did it with.
During the course of the next 5 years I saw the drinking intensify the fights involved knives, hammers, metals bars, pipes whatever they could get their hands on. Not one holiday have we ever spent at home. NOT ONE, I promise you this from the bottom of my heart. We were always at a motel, emergency room, police station, granny’s house, rest area, somewhere. I do however remember just 1 lonely Christmas tree that made it the entire season. Why? Because we went to Granny’s. She was my salvation. God, I miss her so much. I wish I could have died instead of her. She was truly an angel in her own right!!!!
I used to spend my lunch money to write her a letter on Wednesday for her to pick me up on Friday and she and Papa would always be there to get me for the weekend. They would drive about 65-70 miles and say they were just out riding around. They would take me back on Sunday night for school. God I wish she was here now she would save me again. Granny always knew what to say and always had a hug, kiss and an I LoveYou no matter how mean I was! She told me she knew all along I was mean as shit but she still loved me!!! Granny always told me I had tears of a clown because I hid behind a smile.
Granny wherever you are I LOVE YOU and I MISS YOU WITH ALL MY BEING! PLEASE SMILE FOR ME!!!
As I sit here balling my eyes out trying to see this keyboard, I never dreamed it would hurt so much to write this. Where is my humor when I need it most?

Sorry I got sidetracked, Back to my all American family.

It had reached the point that when I walked in if I said hello I said it in the wrong tone and if I didn’t say hello I had my butt on my shoulders.
Either way I was wrong. I have went through so many BEATINGS that I should be
made of Rubbermaid. I have had uncountable black eyes/busted mouths, fractured nose, fractured jaw, busted ear drum, fractured arm/elbow, 2 teeth knocked out on right side, endless amount of bruises
.

When I was 15 and thought I have found LOVE. We wanted to get married later not then, but I got pregnant, Mom, being her lovely self, beat me, kicked me (she weighed180, I weighed 120) needless to say the outcome was miscarriage.
Well after hemorrhaging for 4 days she finally gave in and we went off to her Drs. because he wouldn’t tell of bruises. End result for me was TOTAL 7 MISCARRIAGES DURING YEARS NO KIDS TUBAL LIGATION BECAUSE OF DAMAGE THANKS AGAIN MOM!!!!! She was a real peach wasn’t she. God I hate her so much.
I have had 6 nervous breakdowns because of this and 2 in December 2000 resulting in diagnosis of Bipolar I, OCD and Anti-Social Disorder(Imagine that). But I am alive for whatever good that is sometimes. I will survive I think.
Mom died drunk driving, dad died when he let a lit cigarette fall on a stack of newspapers, he burned to death in mobile home, Granny died from diabetes and Papa just died from broken heart (Dr. could not find reason married to Granny 59 yrs.) I paid for Mom and Dads funerals 9 months apart. Lost all 4 within 2 years. Not a good period in my life. At Mom’s funeral I never cried just looked at her in casket and said You can’t hurt me anymore! and walked out. Dad I buried at Veterans Cemetery, just me there. Granny I lost it and don’t really remember except I begged them not to put her in the ground. Papa just about the same except I knew he wanted to be with Granny.
To shorten this a little so you folks can go on with your life, I picked men JUST LIKE GOODDAD!!!!!!!
Abused but at least waited until I was 42 to get married then 9 months later discovered him on MY desk with MY secretary so he got a divorce, she got an unemployment notice and I got another vacation trip to Psych Unit.

So where am I at now. I have a good man, loves me with Bipolar, (think he loves bipolar too) understands me for me, call myself married but common law only, can’t seem to take that legal plunge, upset that some things still get to me so deeply but if I can keep smiling I will SURVIVE!
Keep Smiling and you too can survive. That is until you start writing your story then you better get your own box of Kleenexes.