Life
Being the fifteenth child my parents conceived together, my mom was just exhausted from having babies every year and half. Nine of my siblings died before I was born, one died at the age of 51 year's of age from cancer. Mom was in her early forties when I was born and than a year later, mother had another little girl. I don't remember the first five year's of my life. I was born on cold winter, snowy day in the year of our Lord, 1957. All though my older siblings has baby photo's of the rest of my siblings, it seem odd they didn't have not one of me as a baby. So what I shared-I had a head of hair, very curly and born a preemie. When I did start and was able to remember my childhood life, I would have to say I was around the age of six year's of age. My childhood life was a nightmare. Seems like I was having one accident after another and what I can remember rushed to the hospital on regular basis for one accident from another. My father lame excuse he tell the doctor, I was a very clumsy child and always falling and into something. It did puzzle the emergency doctor when grandma and my father on one occasion had to rush me to the hospital because my head was busted wide open and when I arrived to the hospital a few minute later, I slipped in a coma. I assume the laws were not as strict with child abuse that is today. Some of my abuse due from the Adults who were suppose to protect me and love me were hushed and swept under the rug. From my brain injury it caused nerve damage on the right side of my brain and I live with Head Trauma Amnesia. I lost lot of memories of my childhood year's but I do remember the bad memories. Mom was never around or very nurture to me or even acting like a caring, compassion, tender and loving mother so my grandmother more or less taken over her role as my mother and raised me for twelve year's of my life. She passed away when I was twelve. I believe if she would of lived longer I be living with her more year's of my life. I call myself the child that nobody wanted. After my grandmother passed away, I more or less raised myself. As for my father he always would throw negative comments at me and call me names, "You never mount to nothing he repeatedly say. Well, I love my dad more than I had love for my mom and I was more close to my dad than mom, regardless of his outbursts.
I managed, when I started a new school after grandma passed away because my father moved, my life just went down hill. I was bullied every day to and from school. Never made many friends. Being harassed and bullied constantly every day I ended up quitting school, dropping out because I just could not live with the fear anymore, the beatings the kids would give me. One cold winter day, dad drove us and several other kids to the bus stop, we attended a Mennonite school. As two of my siblings and her friends and I were waiting there in the cold waiting for the bus, my middle sister starting bullying me and her friends jumped in. The knocked me down to the ground, removed my coat and shoes and ran into the fire-station where they gave the children permission to wait inside if we got cold. Anyways, they ran in the fire-station as I was saying with my coat and shoes in their hands and locked the door behind them. I was outside in tears freezing and cold, I pound on the screen door, "Let Me In!" and they refused. "Freezing outside with no coat and shoes on, I yelled, "If you don't open the door, I am going to kick the window in. Kids hollower-ed, I dare you. I was cold, my feet was cold, it was 30 inches of snow outside and it was freezing. After few minutes demanding the kids and my middle sister to give my coat and shoes back, they refused I kicked the window in. It was a pretty site after I kicked the window in, I ended up cutting the main artery on my right ankle and lost 2 and half pints of blood and was rushed to the hospital. An off duty officer just happen been driving home at the time I needed help an dhe pulled over and lift me up in his arms and sit ne in front of the car, All I remember before passing out, apologizing to the officer for getting blood all over his seat. By the time I arrived to the hospital, again, I slipped into a coma, laid in a coma for six months. My parents were very concern. I don't remember much detail of this accident, only what I was told by my middle sister, and other siblings, and father. I had to wear a cast for six months and learned how to walk all over again. There was novbody in my life I actual look up to as a role model and nobody I could turn too so I held a lot of my pain inside and the way I released it, I started cutting myself. I became a cutter so I could feel for everything that I adore growing up; my body and mind just became numb and this was the only way it sure I was alive, I cut myself. I accomplish that, it has been over year's now since I last cut. I didn't feel anything. Nobody every gave me or would give me a chance, would help me so I learn to survive in anyway I could. When I turned eighteen year's of age I left home to go out to the world. I lived with dysfunctional family and it was like a heavy load was lifted off of my shoulders when I left home, I was finally free. Free from the torments, the trauma, the abuse, the drama, living in my home was like walking on glass, afraid to say anything, afraid to move, or express your opinion for you get knocked down the hard way.
Today, I still live with the fear reaching out for help when I am in need of help for I am afraid of rejection, afraid what the person would think of me. Yet, I have a very giving heart and would help anybody in need that came knocking at my door. I have no trouble giving, I have trouble receiving. My life growing up, I didn't know if I was coming or going, or taught tools how to survive in the real world, my life growing up, with violence in the home, drinking, abused, so on. I have very few friends, and I am disable due to my childhood year's of abuse. I live with seizures, cardiomyopathy(weak heart), Head Trauma Amnesia, limp but it didn't keep me from trying for I held a job for many year's. I put myself through school and taken Nurses Assistance classes and worked in a Nursing Home and hold a Associate degree in Criminal Justice. One night driving home from work after working a twelve hour shift, it was around midnight, a young man was out celebrating his twenty first birthday and happen to be drinking and driving and I became his victim that night. He hit me head on and my back and neck was injured. I had three back surgeries and that was the end of my career. It was just my luck, As hard I continue to try to live a good moral and honest life, it still comes back and bites me in the rear but I still fight and continue to live the righteous life, and walk that straight narrow pathway. I am not claiming I am perfect for there is only One who is perfect and we all know "Him! His name is Jesus! I continue to pray, just maybe one day it will be my lucky day. All I ask for is to own a Volkswagen Beetle, that is one dream I hold on to and the dream that keeps me fighting to go one and fight. Everytime I would save money in my younger year's, my Father found it and spend it on the horse races or gamble it away. I always dreamed in owning a Volkswagon since I was learned how to drive. Like I said, that dream owning one is what kept me fighting to survive my life at home. I am still fighting th ememories of my childhood past and living with my disablities due from my many year's of childhood year's trauma. No children shoud every have to live with memories that haunts them. The past is the past and I learning that. Taking one day at a time. I do ask myself, When will it be my turn? To live a full an dhealthy productive life, my mind has memories that was instilled in my mind from parents who said they would love me, protect me, and care for all my needs. I do love my parents and always will and thank them for giving me life.
