I have been debating weither or not to write inthis topic because it is bringing back my whole past, which isextremely hard for me to deal with. I will, but I will make itsimple...sorta.
*** Don't read it if you don't think you can handle it. Some parts might be a little too violent.**
I was born, had a real family until I was about 5, brother was born,brother was 1 years old when my dad cheated on my mom with my nowstep-mom, mom and dad got a divorce....my life started as a hell when Iwas 5, my poor little brother was only a tiny baby....
After my parents divorced, the house sold, I moved to an apartment withmom and my brother, then we moved to a house that my mom bought. Iremember going to court all the time, them fighting, mom brain washingme saying stuff like "Your dad is a horrible person. He is selfish. Hedoens't care about you. Look what he did to us". She said much worse asI grew older.
Mom had a great job as a secretary for the city. She made quite a bitof money, and could have up until retirement. That's when mom metDavid, a logger in the town of Edinburg, NY. What a lovely town, if youliked to abuse people and animals.
Soon after meeting the amazing David The Logger, we moved to hisnot-so-lovely trailer in the middle of the woods. Everything was finefor a few months, then David started maxing out mom's credit cards,stealing her money, totaled her car, beating her, beating our animals,and verbally abusing me. He tought my now 3 or 4 year old brother howto say VERY nasty words...which my brother then used towards my father.
More brain washing, more abuse, more family court.
Mom wanted an end. We moved to our house that she had bought. Only bythen the house was a dump from the former renters. Mom had no moneybecause David maxed out her credit cards. She was in debt. We lived inthat house for about a month with NO water, no electricity, barely anyfood.
By moving back to our house I thought that everything was going to benormal again. It wasn't. The Gushers and juice boxes went away, thegood clothes went away, the toys went away. We had nothing.
Forward to a few months later...
We moved into an apartment in the "ghetto" of my town. Mom still hadbarely any money. What money she did have, she spent it on 30-packs ofcheap beer. Mom got drunk everyday, all day. Wake up at5:30a.m....drink till noon...pass out...drink more...pass out. Howabout being 9 years old and not knowing if your mother will wake up inthe morning?
Opps....mom peed herself because she was too drunk to notice. Who wasthere to clean it up? Me. Oh, little Jimmy wants dinner. Who was thereto make him dinner becaue his mother was past out drunk in a chair andcouldn't even talk, yet alone cook dinner for her children. Me.
My friends turned to none. The ones that I did have used me as a placeto come over and hang out because my mom was "cool". Going to schoolwas hell. I wasn't good enough because I didn't wear Adidas,Abercrombie, Holister, ect. My clothes came from Walmart.
I had so much pain. I started eating anything I could. I grew from asize 7 pants to a size 15 pants in no time. Now I was "fat", but Ididn't really realize it. I wanted my belly button peirced becauseeveryone else was doing it, asked mom and she says "We better find itfirst". That's when the verbal abuse started.
Mom's drinking more. She goes through 30-packs like nothing. We alwayswent to the store to cash in the beer cars so she could buy herselfanother 30-pack. Everything always smell of beer and cigarettes. Myasthma didn't like that.
I'm about 11 years old now and have raised my brother from the time hewas 3 or 4. If I didn't raise him, who would? Jimmy then started tohave many anger issues. He would lash out and crave for attention.That's when my drunk of a mother would say, "Amy, deal with youbrother. I can't handle him".
Jump ahead two years...
I was 13, and my mom finally kicked me out of the house because Ididn't want to go to the lake for the day with her and Jimmy. Why? So Icould watch her drink and drive home drunk with her? She beat me, Ifought back.
I called my dad and told him to come and pick me up. While I waited forhim and packed my bags, mom just grew more angry because I was going togo stay with the man the "ruined her life". She told me I could takeanything with me but the clothes on my back, because everything in myroom was HERS, since she bought it.
Dad got there, I ran as fast as I coud out of that house. Mom was angryas hell and started throwing "her" belongings off the balcony down ontothe ground. We drove away, leaving my litte brother because he was tooscared to leave mom because he thought she would do something bad tohim if she left.
A month later I went to my mom's house for the weekend to visit. Badidea. She got drunk and got angry. We got into an arguement, fistsflying, hair pulling, pause for mom to drink her beer, back at it. Bythis time, she was furious. She went into the kitchen and pulled outthe biggest butcher knife.
The chase was on. I was running for my life through that littleapartment. I was 13 and wasn't sure if I should just let it happen orkeep running. I ran and cried and screamed at this woman who turnedinto a monster. She was trying to kill me. She had every intention tokill me. What did I do to deserve death?
I ran for the bathroom and hooked the little lock latch. I wasn't sureif it would hold or if this would be my final moments. This drunk womanhad the strenght of a 300 pound man at the other side of the flimpydoor. She also had a knife in hand.
She stopped tugging at the door and threatened to kill herself rightthere, in the middle of the kitchen. I come out to see my mother will aknife to her neck, not knowing what comes next. All the while, mylittle brother is in the next room watching cartoons, probably unawareof what was going on.
I grabbed the phone, called my dad, then the police came. I got to gowith my dad, and mom got a talking to by the police. Was she chargedfor attempting to murder her only daughter? No, of course not...therewere no witnesses present. I guess the hysterical 13 year old girlwasn't a clue as to what went on a few moments ago.
More family court and I got to live with my dad. I got everything Iwanted. New clothes, good food, and a dad who finally got the chance toshow he cared. My only real friend was my bunny, Middy.
Two years went by. I hadn't talked to my mother. She would call, I wouldn't answer. I hated her with everything in me.
I read in the paper of an attempted murder at 2 Water Street, upstairsapartment. Wait a second....my mom lives there. I read on. She met aman on the internet, he came over, tied her up, raped her, broke hercollar bone, slit her throat, and left her to die.
I had a lot of emotions running through my body. I wasn't sure what tothink or do. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell, I wanted to run, Iwanted to eat, I wanted to cut myself, I wanted to hurt everythingaround me. This was my time to let everything out that I had held infor so long. Middy (my bunny) was still there to listen to me, shereally helped me out. When I wanted to do everything negative, she toldme to do everything positive.
Flash forward to a year after my mom's attempted murder....
My mom met a man named Tom. He sold his leather mill for millions ofdollars. Mom moves in with Tom. Now begins her healing process.
Tom knew of the attempted murder, caught on about her alcoholism,realized she needed her life to be put back together. One thing hedidn't realize is that she had kids. Once he found out he knew that sheneeded to reconnect with us and make things "better".
A few months later I arrived a HUGE gorgeous house. Mom looked okay. Istill hated her and wasn't sure why I was there and why she was the"maid" of a mansion. This man couldn't possibly love a woman like that.A woman who tried to kill her only daughten and stinks down beer likeit's the only thing keeping her living.
Weekend visits proved to be working. I noticed Tom really loved her andwanted to help her. I thought for sure she was using him as a way tohave money and a place to live.
Forward ahead to a few years later....
Mom is healthy. Mom only gets to drink a couple of wine colors everysaturday when her and Tom lounge out by the pool. She is fine with it.She no longer breaths alcohol to stay alive.
Onto the summer of 2005...
Dad wants to move to Arizona. I had friends, had a life, and I wasfinally happy. It was move to Arizona or live with my mother. I didn'tfeel fine with living with her, and knew I never could again.
Yay, family court again. I chose to move to Arizona with dad and mystep-mom, while my brother chose to live with my mom. He has alwaysbeen a "momma's boy", for reasons I don't understand.
Mom wanted to talk to me in a room after the court was over. She huggedme, cried, said sorry for all the things she has done. She said sheloved me. WHAT?! She loves me. She still had the blank look on herface, no emotion. I dusted my shoulder off, packed up bags, saidgoodbye to Middy's grave (the best friend I ever had), and headed toArizona...a new chance at life!
Ahead seven days....
I'm in Arizona! It's crazy here. Everything is different compaired tomy little coloniel town back in New York. New school, new house, newpeople, new everything.
I have friends! I like them a lot. They had just moved here fromMassacheusettes. I felt more at home because I had "east coster's" myage with me!
Move onto a month later....
I met a guy named Ryan downtown. He was 10 months younger than me and Iwould NEVER date a guy that young, but I knew he was special. Lot's ofhanging out, lots of hard times, lots of good times.
Now, for today....
I live with Ryan, his mom, our 3 kitties, two mice, and two (soon to bethree!) bunnies. We are engaged. He's my best friend. I have somefriends, not a whole lot. I love the friends that I have very dearly. Ihave my amazing bunnies, I have Middy here in spirit, I have a job, Ihave money to buy my own things and care for myself as well as myfurkids and my amazing fiance. I'm going to start classes at thecollege this summer, and go to a University in two years. I have a planfor my future. I can't say its that path that I am going to take, but Ilike to know I have something lying ahead of me for once in my life.
I had visited New York and stayed with mom, Tom, and my brother intheir mansion twice since I have lived in Arizona. Tom is just as greatas always. My brother is now a top student in his class at the middleschool, he enjoys sports, and is your average put-to-gether teenagekid, and I couldn't be more happy that he turned out just fine.
My mom, she is healthy! She has put on a great amount of weight. Shewill only "drink" when they go out to dinner once a week. She's alloweda glass or two of wine. I shouldn't say that she is "allowed", sheknows that's all she can handle. She makes the choice to only have twoglasses of wine. I wouldn't say she is perfect. She still blocks me outwhen I try to talk to her. I don't care. She is happy and has comfort,that's all that I can ask for.
So, after telling my whole life story...you are asking, what is thepoint? The point is...even though the memory is STILL there and veryclear to me, I have learned to live around it.
When I talk to my mom and look her in the eyes, I don't remember thepast. I look at her as of now. I see a woman who made wrong choices andit controlled her life. It wasn't her who tried to kill me and beatme....if was the alcohol. Yes, she did make the wrong choice to drinkit in the first place, but once she did, she wasn't herself anymore.
I could have easily never talked to my mom again. I am not sure why Ieven did, but I am glad that I did. What if she died and I never got toknow the real her again?
Jesse...Weither it's the anger or the alcohol, you have tounderstand that it is not them. It's something that changes them. Aftera while my mom really didn't have the choice to pick up the can or not,because it was what she was used to. After a while, your dad didn'thave the choice to use anger as a way to talk to people, it is what heis used to.
My mom didn't have to get help, but she did. You dad doesn't have toget help, but he can. It's all a matter of them making that decision.If they don't want to, then they don't want to. Only THEY can make thechoice. If you dad won't get help for his anger problems, then you needto do something like I did. I moved out, then I moved away. It's hard,it stinks, it takes time, but it's a relief.
- Amy:brownbunny
EDIT TO ADD: I included a picture of my lovely Middy. RIP <3.
