The Beginning.

[MilkDud]

Ive told this story so many times before, Its kind of an annoyance now. But the only way to truely understand how I feel is to start at the beginning I guess.

My mom was 16. When she got pregnant with me. She'd known my "dad" since she was in 7th grade, and finally started to go out with him when she was around 15. He was older, like 4 or 5 years older, and into drugs. He got my mom into drugs too, I think. From what Ive heard, he was a grade-a ass, but my mom was in love with him.

Love can make you do such stupid things.

So fast forward to the summer of 1995. My mom and dad just got back together. She claims he pressured her into sex, but I think it was a mutal agreement. My mom always makes excuses for herself.

She got pregnant with me in July.

He abused her. I only know about one incident, but Im sure there were more. He pushed her down unto the icy sidewalk when she was pregnant with me, and didnt help her up. He just... walked away.

Oh, I forgot. He also pushed her out of his car while he was driving. Not fast, but still.

He cheated on her. She walked in on him once, while he was with her close friend. So she got pissed, got a frying pan, and nearly pounded down the door.

She had an abortion payed for, almost did it secretly, but then my grandma found out and forced her to keep me.

My mom was scared. She was embrassed. She just wanted her life back. But she couldnt do whatever she was planning to do. Because of me.

My dad wasnt there when I was born.

My last memory of him goes as followed: I was about 2, or 3. I have no clue how I still remember this, but it just remained vivid through all these years. My mom was pounding at his window, trying to wake him up. He didnt meet up with us somewhere like he'd said... again. My mom yelled, told me to tell my daddy to come out and spend time with me. And I think I did- I could almost swear I did. But then... he just turned around and went back.. to.. sleep.

Sometimes, when I was younger, Id hear people in my family talking about me and my dad. Some things scared me. Really, really scared me. Like how once my mom left me and him at the park to go get food, and when she came back I was crying hysterically, and told her he took me into the woods....

I feel sick and dizzy just writing this.

I hate all these memories.

My grandma raised me. My mom would sometimes stop by, after doing whatever she used to do. Shed tell me I was ugly, stupid, that she hated me.

And she made me cry.

She made my 6 year old self wear a pink dress with crazy frizzy brown hair cry for hours.

I never understood why she hated me so much.

[jj]

hi MilkDud...

sorry that you are so troubled by these haunting memories, and that must have been hard for you to write it all up again.
how are things with you and your mom /grandma now? and how often do these memories still plague you? have you ever tried to speak to your mom about how much this still affects you and how what you remember still troubles you?

hugs,
jj