myauto

I was born in Milwaukee Wis. on October 31, 1966. I have two sisters both of which are older then me and one brother who is 13yrs younger. When I was 2rs old 1968 we moved from Milwaukee to Michigan where I was raised.

When I was 4yrs old 1971 my mother and father were devorced. This devorce like many others was very bitter, with a lot of mental as well as physical abuse on my mothers part. I can still remember laying in my bed at night hearing all the hurtful words my mother said to my dad. I cant speak for my sisters but all I wanted to do is hide under my covers and pretend I was somewhere else. You see, My dad was an alcoholic and my mother had a very bad temper and would often turn her anger on us kids and I guess that's why I learned how to climb trees so fast. It is true that a kid learns how to lie at a very young age, afraid if they tell the truth that it would earn another whipping or have something thrown at them like a tape recorder or a hair brush. Although this was going on I found confort at my grandma and grandpa's house. I felt safe there and I knew that papa( what we used to call him) would protect me. They were church goers and every wednesday night they would stand on stage and sing,

When I was 5 years old in 1972 me and my sisters went to church with my grandparents. Because me and my oldest sister didn't get along my grandma seperated us by sitting me in between her and my grandpa. Soon grandma and grandpa were on the stage singing. My grandpa loved the Lord and loved the song that they were singing( I need no Mansions) He showed his love through his tears and everyone in the room knew that he felt truely blessed. When they were done they took their seats in the pews with me and my sisters. I remember grandpa as he tugged at my arm then whispered in my ear asking me to ask grandma for a hankerchief. She handed it to me and in turn I gave it to grandpa so that he could wipe his tears. I never got the hankerchief back for my grandpa passed away that night still holding the hankerchief I had given him. The last time I saw my grandpa was at the furneral home. My mother didnt allow me and my sisters to go to the furnal instead we had to stay with some friends. Two weeks later I remember me and my mother going to the same furnal home because one of moms friends passed away. After she visited her friend I look at mom, and me being not quite 6yrs old I asked her I said" Mommy since were here can we go see grandpa." This is when I learned the truth about death and that my papa was gone and that he couldn't play anymore.
In 1973 my mother bought a brand new house on Linden St. and was working the 3 to 11 shift at a nursing home. My grandma worked the 11 to 7 shift. After school me and my sisters walked over to grandma's and then she would take us home before she went to work. Grandma would leave us alone for about a half an hour because she would have to punch in at 11 and my mother wouldn't be able to punch out till 11. But what my grandma didn't know was that a lot times my mother didn't come straight home instead she would come in at around 6am because she was to busy going to the bars and partying then to care anything about us or that the fact she was leaving my oldest sister who was 13yrs old alone at night with me and my other sister. When she did come home on time she would bring the party home with her. I remember one night I woke up to loud music and laughing coming from the living room. I got up to see what was going on and as I stood just inside the hallway I could see that the room was full of smoke and I watched my mother smoking. I didn't know what it was that she was smoking. but it didn't look like a cigarette and it didn't smell like one either.

Even though mom and dad were devorced they would often get together on the weekends. We would all climb in my dads van and take a drive in the country. Often times we would end up at my dad's best friends house.
I didn't know that when this man put his hands on me that it was wrong. All I did know that it made me feel real bad inside. Now for whatever reasons there were I cant remember but just about every weekend me and my sisters spent the night at this guys house. I didn't want to go but me being only a kid had to do what I was told. My mom and dad didn't know what was going on because I to scared to tell them but everytime I spent the night there, I would wake up to this guy in the room.

When I was 11 years old In 1977, " CHiPs" was brand new. I remember sitting on the couch watching tv. Then all of a sudden there he was, A cop. But this wasn't just any cop, it was a tall, dark and very handsome cop. It was my Ponch. From then on I was hooked. Even though things were still happening to me, I had my ponch and he made me feel better about myself and he make me laugh. Even though I knew what would happen on the weekend, when I tuned in every week Ponch somehow made everything okay. Then the credits would start to roll,and I would then get sad because I would have to wait a whole week to feel good about myself again. I do remember that sometimes after watching "CHiPs" I would lay in my bed and cry. God I wanted so much to have Ponch and Jon come and help me the way they help the others who were hurting. But you know what, they never came. It didn't take me long to figure it out that no body was going to come either.
At this time, Mom and dad were remarried and we were moving out to the country. It was an old farm house that was in really bad shape. My dad and his best friend were working on it to fix it up for us. I was upstairs laying down on my bed doing my homework, This guy came into my room. And as I lay there As I felt this man's hands touch me all I wanted to do is get away, but I couldn't. All I could do was lay there. I could not escape my surrounding but I did find confort because I could see my favorite poster of Erik hanging on the wall just above my head . In this picture he was dressed in a white shirt with a leather vest. His eyes were so soft and so very kind. I was very afraid of this man, I didn't really feel alone. I'm not sure as to why because this time wasn't any differant then all the other times, but as I think back I bet it was that picture that made feel that I wasn't alone and that someone cared.

When I was 12 years old in 1978, After church we went over to dad's best friends house to have sunday dinner. That evening we were all wrestling and having a good time even though I didn't want to be there, I decided to make the best of it. I remember wrestling on the floor with dads best friend. He had gotten me pinned to the floor and then he whispered something horible in my ear. I knew what rape was and hearing him say he was going to do that to me made me terrified more then what I have ever been in my life. I knew that I had to tell someone. So the next day I went to the one person I thought would be there for me . the person that was surpose to protect me and love me, My mother. I told her what he had told me. And all she said was " Don't tell anyone because it was dad's best friend." So I never told another living soul. About a month later, I remember, I was laying on the floor watching CHiPs. My mom, dad and sisters had went into town for something and left dads best friend in charge. as I was laying on the floor this man walked into the room where I was . I wanted to scream but I couldn't, I knew no one would hear me. All I could do was lay there. This guy hurt me real bad that night so bad that all I wanted to do is crawl in a hole and die. I didn't understand what was going on and why I was being hurt but I could hear CHiPs playing in the background. The sound of Ponch and Jon's voice was like music to my ears.. I still remember the episode it was"Peaks and Valley's" And to this day avoid this episode like the plague.

When I was 13years old In 1980. My mother gave birth to my brother. and once again my parents were fighting. I remember sitting in the back seat of the car and mom and dad were fighting. The word devorce came up along with my mother saying that if it wasn't for us kids that they would have gotten remarried. I knew that it was my fault and it only confirmed that it was my fault the first time they got a devorce.
Soon after we moved from the country back to the city.

When I was not quite 14 years old In 1981 the inevitable happened my parents got another devorce and mom took my little brother away to live with her new boyfriend.
In school all I wanted to do was belong and with the new school I did my best to fit in. But no matter how hard I tried it wasn't to be. The only place I did belong is with the other low lifes. Soon me and my friends started a small gang. Got matching jackets and called ourselves
" The Stoners." Although a gang we weren't a bad group, we kept to our own sure we got high and partyed but that was it unless you count beating up the preps and stealing the aligators off their shirts as a reward. All we just basically wanted to be left alone.
Then one night I was talking with my mother on the phone. When she told me that she had emancipated me, all I could do is go to the floor holding my knees tight in my chest and cry. It hurt so much to find out that my mother didn't really didn't love me want me anymore. It was clear that everything was my fault and I really was a bad kid. By the next day my boyfriend at that time had broken up with me, so that he could go with my best friend. I remember sitting out side of the school during lunch hour on a small concrete pillar, I felt so very hurt and so alone all I could do was cry. then looking down at the side walk I saw a piece of glass fron a broken pop bottle. For once all my tears stopped when I picked it up. Although I hated myself I dont think I wanted to kill myself I just wanted to hurt myself real bad as a way of punishment for everything that I was sure was my fault.. So without any hessitation I cut my arm. I couldn't understand why it didn't hurt. I was bleeding a lot and yet there wasn't any pain. I took 17 stitches in my arm from that day.
I soon had a very bad attitude and one day me and my dad got into a huge fight and I called him a bastard and ran away. I didn't look back I just kept running. I didn't know where I was going but I didn't care either. When I finally stopped running I found myself in Lansing and then Detroit. I was cold and hungry and by the time I knew what was happening on I was getting drunk everyday and strung out on dope. I had my connections but no money. So I did the only thing that a girl I could do to support myself and my habit. Even though I knew what I was doing was wrong I didn't care. To me my life was over.
This went on for about three years
When I was 17 in 1984 I once again was getting strung out. I dont know what happened or what I did, but it must have been really bad cause the next morning I found myself waking up in a field. (Till this day I dont have a clue as to how I got there). As I layed there I looked up and starred at the stars in the sky. It accured to me that I if didn't do something quick then one day I would end up dead. It was then I decided to go home to my dad. I remember standing on his porch and I was really scared because I was so sure that once he seen me and seen my arms that he would know what I was doing and wouldn't want me. When he opened the door. no words were spoke, He grabbed me and like a fathers love he took me back in.
Soon after I started my family by giving birth to my first son one month before I turned 18

Now at 34 I look back and wonder all the reasons why. But in the end I know in my heart there are no answers. I've never lalked to anyone because I chose not to. I'm afraid that if I talk about it to someone it will hurt to much. And I dont want to be hurt again not like that. No it's best to leave everything in the past. It's much safer that way. Sure I still get scared of being hurt but I seldom have nightmares and I no longer wake up screaming and shaking uncontrollably and I dont suffer half the night with dry heaves. And today I have 2 of my 4 children with me. And truth be told they are my only reason that I have to remember to take one day at a time.
To this day I have not told my dad about his friend, If dad were to find out he would be crushed and very hurt. Dad loves this man like a brother, hell this guy stood up with my dad when he got remarried in 1988. I cant take the love my dad feels for this man away from him. And if need be I will carry what happened to my grave.
As for my mother. I do forgive her. After all if the Lord saw fit to forgive me and my sins. I can certainly forgive hers. But I will never forget. I do still see her and try to have a mother daughter relationship, but it's hard sometimes because just looking in her eyes and I'm reminded of everything. And yes sometimes I feel angry, Although I try not to because I know that anger is very bad and it hurts. Eventually this anger comsumes the soul until there's nothing left.

Now you may be asking me how can I talk about what has happened in my life.. Well believe me it's hard and it hurts like hell. But I got my Ponch picture sitting here and it helps. ( I know, Sounds dumb huh)
You might even be asking why. Well it's like this. I look at my self as a survivor (at least I think I am) One who has seen my share of pain. I know how it feels to hit rock bottom and I know what it's like to look up to see that there is no way out. I know in my heart that there is someone, somewhere out there is hurting now. And it seems that no matter how much you fight and no matter how loud you scream no one hears you and no one even acknowledges your there.
Well my friend I hear you, I am here and I ready to listen if you need to chat , Contact me. I'd love to hear from you. I also have ICQ and AOL instant messanger.

My biography