Inside the mind of me

In the beginging

My name is Heather and I was raised on a farm of 11 acres next to a town of 30,000. Now I will give you the names of some of my family so you don’t get confused along the way.

Mom: Sue♦Dad: Tom♦Brother: Zach♦Brother: Chris

Cousin: Mikey♦Cousin: Robby♦Cousin: Dustin♦Cousin: Vanessa

Aunt: Cathy♦Aunt: Suzie♦Uncle: Kevin♦Uncle: Mike♦Uncle: Paul

Grandma: Deloris♦Grandpa: Urban

Well now that is done let’s get started.

In my family being abused wasn’t a new thing. My parents did it more so then the rest of my relatives but still mostly everyone who had children did. Some of the smallest cases is if we didn’t want to eat our food and we refused to open our mouths our noses would be plugged and our jaws would be forced open where your jaw connects to your face. Another one is if we didn’t clean when we were supposed to we would be hit repeatably with a broom or my dad’s huge calloused hands. Also the other basics where they pull on your ears or hair until they feel like there being ripped out. And of course SPANKING. Don’t get me started on that. There is a fine line between spanking and beating. In which I think I have a pretty good idea of what that is and ours was more on the beating side.

Well that was some of the basics so lets get into the more detailed situations.

When I was 5 years old my mother and my two younger brothers and I went to the grocery store. My brothers suddenly run off and I was very protective over my little brothers so I was about to go get them. Well for some reason my mom felt the need to hold me back from doing so and grabbed my neck with her extremely long nails at the time. I screamed in pain throughout the whole store because my mom had just gouged a hole in my neck. Next day when I went to school the teachers noticed and asked my what happened. I told them everything and the next thing I know I’m talking to some police officers. For some reason they had left and my mom had shown up pulling my hand. I was extremely confused and didn’t where we were going. My mom ended up driving us to my grandparents house and hide me under the kitchen table. Suddenly the police show up and I can see there feet and my moms. My mom said “How did you find us?” They had gone to a pharmacy and had asked if there were any relatives related to our last name. So next thing I know I’m in a police car and really freaked out. I look out the window and I can see my mom crying in the other police car across from us. Then next thing I remember is that my brothers were with me at a strange foster home and the mother was looking at my wound. My brothers were left there and I was taken to another foster home. A mother of a small girl and there grandmother. I even remember her talking about here son that had died in a car accident. Well anyways I was there about a month then my brothers and I together were sent to my uncle Tom and aunt Cathy’s house for another month which was not the best idea. They may have beat us but they didn’t exactly treat us like family. The only good thing about it was that I could play with my cousin Vanessa who which is only a year older then me. So then finally we are brought back to our parents house. And of course my mom promised that she would never do it again while she was crying and what not blah blah blah.

So funny story (sarcastic). Because my mom was in the system of being an abuser they had a lady called Debby come once a week to make sure we were doing alright and that the house was clean and what not. Well of course by the time that day would come my mom would be freaking out and hitting us and screaming at us to clean. Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of having a worker come over? It’s like my mom practically became friends with the lady. What the hell was up with that. It’s hello being beat here! Yoo hoo! And she did this for years as well. Ugg. Well whatever. Just needed to vent a little about that.

Alright lets get on with this.

There was a time when the snow was coming down pretty hard and it was piling up. Well for some reason my dad thought it was a good idea to have us go outside and pick up garbage in this winter storm. Well I did not and I was being stubborn. So I slammed out sliding glass door a couple of times and it just popped out of the socket twice. No damage. Well my dad was PISSED. So he thought it was a good idea to kick me with his steel toed boot through the door and onto the concrete patio. Even though I was writhing in pain and crying he still made me go out and clean with socks on my hands and barely walking. I was screaming that he was a child abuser and that I would tell on him. But of course I did not at that time in fear of being beat. My tail bone still hurts to this day. It usually happens when i sit in a position for a certain amount of time or what I’m sitting on. Or it just starts hurting randomly. In high school I fell a bunch of times in a row on my tail bone so I went to the doctor to make sure it was okay. Well they said it was bruised and they noticed there was scar tissue from and old injury. WELL WELL. I wonder where that came from.

My mom had this weird thing that when ever she was pissed she would start throwing and breaking things like a tornado and then suddenly she would just start kicking the shit out of my brother Chris. Usually right in the stomach. I did my best did protect him but it’s not like I wasn’t scared too. I was terrified. Sometimes I could only save on brother.

You know I just realized typing all this stuff down is almost like reliving it. I really don’t think about it too much anymore. At least I try not to. So it hasn’t been bothering me much. But for some reason right now it’s making me feel old feelings of vulnerability, sadness, anger. Just when you think you’ve gotten past all of that and moved on it just kicks you in the gut.

When I was 12 my mom, two brothers and I went to our rental peoples house to watch a movie. When we were leaving I wanted to sit in the front seat and my brother Zach was already in it. I had his back pack so I dropped it on the side walk so he would have to go and get it. Well he locked the front door so I was forced to go through the back head first. So head first in the front seat and I open the door so I can reposition my self. Well my head was outside and the door was open. My brother thought it was a good idea to slam the door on my head. So I was in the front seat crying. My brothers and my mom were mocking my crying sounds and telling me to shut the fuck up and calling me names. Then my mom back hand punched me in the face causing my nose to bleed. Well they continued to mock me until we got home. I went inside quietly and that point and washed my face and went to my room. Well my mom later came up to my room crying and said she would never to it again. Well she said that EVERY single time she hurt me or my brothers. So I called bull shit on that like I did every single time since I was 5.

When I was 13 I finally got fed up with everything. After years and years of all the bullshit. So I talked to someone about at school. They told me I needed to write down everything that happened and put it in the notebook. They wanted dates, times, etc. So I did it. I even got in a few during the period I had the notebook. So I turned it in. Well of course my parents were informed of this notebook but were not told from whom it was written by. Well my parents had guesses. That it was my friend Dustie or Sue the person that I considered a friend that was renting our rental house. So they didn’t want me to talk to them or see them. But I didn’t tell them it wasn’t my friends because I was afraid of the consequences.

When I was also 13 there was a time was I was fed up again but in a different way. My mom was screaming at me, calling me all sorts of names. She slapped me pretty hard and I just snapped so I slapped her back. WOOT! Fought back. Well that was a one time occurrence. I didn’t do that again.

Well that is just some of the stuff that happened at least what I can remember. There was so much stuff it didn’t fit in my brain or maybe I just blocked some stuff out. Like if anything good EVER did happen with my family my mind deleted it because it thought it was fake.


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