My story...Probably a lot like yours
Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 11:51 am
Well my story started before I was even born. My alcoholic grandmother used to bring guys home when my mother and her siblings were growing up. My mother, my aunties and even my uncles where all either raped or molested by these guys.
When I was just a baby my father covered my entire body with marks after he went at me with the hose for crying and then locked my mother out of the house in the rain so she left him (only thing she ever did right).
After that my mother met a guy named Jamie. My brother and I were only toddlers, but this prick beat us continually and actually hospitalized my brother when he was only 18 months old.
After that she met the next guy Howard. I remember being beaten by him on the first day I met him just because I was winging that I needed to go to the toilet, another alcoholic. My brother and I copped beatings off this guy, not slaps, punches to the face, kicking, whippings, he’s broken my brothers arm with a baseball bat (his own son so at least he’s fair) and he now has to have a pin in his arm to hold the bone in place and recently he tried to stab him in the neck with a barbeque fork but my sister pushed him out of the way and he missed and imbedded it into the floor missing his neck by centimeters and he’s managed to sweet talk his way to the police – no charges again.
Anyway after being physically abused by this guy up until about 14 years old my mother left him and met up with the town drunk, Murray. By this time I wasn’t taking any more shit, plus I had gotten pretty tall but he never laid a hand on me. No this is when I learned of whole other types of abuse. We lived in a shed in the middle of nowhere, no running water (just a tank filled with mosquito lava), no public transport and pretty much no food - all the welfare Murray and my mother got went on buying grog. He’d sit at the table in the middle of the shed drinking till 4am in the morning hurling abuse at my brother and I. My mother was not willing to leave him, so I had to leave.
At 16 I moved into a youth refuge, dropped out of school, tried mushies, speed and got to really love marijuana. I’m thankful that I have never developed a heroin addiction despite boarding with many junkies, two who died of overdose. Since being too old for youth refuges it’s been seedy boarding houses filled with criminals and junkies, welfare and minimum wage jobs that barely covered the cost of the rooms.
Now I’m 34 and have been married nearly 6 years and am living in a house owned by my wifes parents. I didn’t get to finish high school but I got a certificate IV which got me into university but I’ll probably screw that up because I smoke a lot of weed and my wife is always sick. Anyway wish I had a happy ending for you but the whole thing has left me very bitter and twisted man who nearly died last year after a failed suicide (which has pretty much wrecked my liver after swallowing two whole packs of lithium tablets). I don’t see money making the pain go away, it’s still a shitty dog eat dog world I gotta live in.
Anyway I get by with a little help from my friends, if you’ve got a shitty or no family, friends are everything. My advice to all is to find some GOOD friends that you can trust. Don’t waste time with people you don’t trust.
Well that's my introduction anyway.