I was born in Westchester, NY. I am the youngest of two, as I have one sister that is 2 years older than me.
I grew up in sheer violence. My mother was married to a man who drank in excess. And when he drank, he would go on violent rampages. The horror that I was exposed to as a child.....no child should ever be subjected to the violence that I was surrounded by as a child.
Most of my childhood is blocked out. Many years back, a therapist told me that the reason that I can't remember much of my childhood is because it's a self-defense mechanism, and that my brain is subconsciously trying to protect myself which is why I can't remember much. If that's the case, then so be it! Who wants to remember such horror?
I do have 2 vivid memories....one of them was a night when my biological father was drunk and he went on a violent rampage. I remember him chasing my mother, my sister and I down the hall. My sister and I shared a room, and the three of us got into that room, and all 3 of us had our bodies pressed up against the door, as he was on the other side banging and pushing on the door trying to get in. I remember being so terrified of what would happen if he got through that door. I was small...maybe around 6 or so....and I remember when he managed to get his arm through the door, that I bit it with all my might. At that, he pulled his arm back, and he finally gave up and went in to the TV room, and then he finally passed out.
My mother, my sister and I stayed locked in that room, too scared to come out. My mother had started making us dinner before he went on his violent rampage....she was so scared to leave the room to get the food off of the stove, and out of the oven. My sister and I crept out of the room and got the food, and the 3 of us ate dinner on the floor with the door to the room locked. My mother felt so bad because the chicken that she had in the oven got slightly burnt. But it wasn't her fault. Yet she felt so bad, and she was apologizing to us. As I am writing this and remembering that day, tears are falling down my face.
That's one memory. The other memory that I have of my biological father is of one day when my mom was lying on her bed. Again, I would guess that I must have been around 6 or so. I can't remember everything fully, but my biological father must have just finished one of his drunken rampages and passed out again. I don't know. All I remember is that my mom was lying on her bed, and I laid down beside her, and I put my arm around her. I kept thinking in my head "if he comes in to the room, I will jump on top of my mother and cover her with my body....this way if he tries to kill her, he will have to kill me first." No child should ever have those kinds of thoughts running through their head like I did. But that was what I lived through. I was living in fear. I was afraid that my biological father was going to kill my mother, and I was also afrad that he was going to kill me.
That's what I remember. Mostly everything else is blocked out. Sure, there may be a small memory here or there, but not as vivid as those two, and just as well, as I'd rather not remember.
That's how I spent the first 8 or 9 years of my life until my mother was finally able to divorce my biological father.
In this life, things affect each person differently. One person can tell a story or even a joke to two different people. One person may think nothing of it, and maybe even laugh it off. The other person may take great offense, and even get hurt by it. As far as me? I'm a sensitive person, and the things that I have gone through in my life has had a great impact on me over the years.
During my posts, I will be giving you "snapshots" of how my life has been, just as I did above, and how it all affected me; and how my life completely shattered in 2008.
