How I Lost God – Which Turned Into a Long-Condensed Story of My Dysfunctional Life: Part 2

While living in Ohio, where his parents lived, when I was 3 or 4, we once went to visit his mother, my Grandmother. It was summer and I was dressed in long pants and a full-sleeve shirt. She knew something was amiss. She made me undress right in front of them and I was black and blue over my whole body. She berated my father and told my mother that she would pay to send her back to NC to her family if she would leave him. She didn’t. She said that it was the first time he had ever gotten out of hand and beaten me, but I really don’t know for sure. I never remember getting abused to that extent after that. In fact I don’t remember that incident, but my grandma told me about it and my mom verified it to me. I kind’a hate my mom, other than the unconditional live that I can’t help, for being so weak and allowing my father to mistreat her, but especially for not thinking of us first. I have never witnessed him hit her to this day, but my mom’s family thinks he has; mental abuse is bad enough. They knew him back when they first got together and when I was too young to remember; before he moved her to Ohio to isolate he from them. She has always stuck up for him no matter what he does. My sister took care of me most of the time while we lived in Ohio and she was only 7 year’s old when we left. My parents were always gone all hrs of the night bowling or drinking with their friends. Sometimes earlier on we did have baby-sitters. My sister and I were always terrified of the house because a man had died in the basement, which is why they got a good deal on it in the first place. We were all right alone until it got dark. Then we stayed away from the kitchen because that was where the basement door was. We peeked in the kitchen a lot just to make sure it was still shut. One afternoon when I was 4 or 5, I was helping my sister put the chain back on her bike in the kitchen. Like the kid that she was, she started peddling as soon as the chain was on, which just happened to be before my fingers were clear. My pinky went around through the sprocket. It was split wide open with the meat and skin hanging. It was black with grease. She had to call the bowling alley and get my parents to come home from their drinking, or him at least his. I never have seen mom drink, but I think she did back then. I remember screaming and crying and my sister actually being motherly for a change as we waited for them to get home. I had to get stitches that night and a nurse gave me a soft Snoopy doll with a zippered compartment in the back. I slept with that dog for years until it fell apart. I required stitches again that same year. At a neighbor kid’s birthday party, his older brother and a friend put me on their house’s roof because I was apparently pestering them. They wouldn’t let me down. I cried but they just laughed, so I jumped. I didn’t break anything but I fell into a pile of boards and a nail cut the top of my scalp wide open. They suddenly showed some concern and took me into the house where the parents were all partying. I still remember all those women’s faces. My parents didn’t have a lot of money and my dad tried to take care of it himself for a few hours before he realized that it just wasn’t going to stop bleeding and I wasn’t ever going to stop crying. I got shots and stitches that day. Shortly before I moved when I was 5, I almost got kidnapped walking alone to school with my same-age friend Danny. A van pulled up behind us in a parking lot right beside school and started calling to us to come there. We said no and started to run. We were taught that at school. The side door opened and a man jumped out and chased us before we had even made it a few steps. He chose and grabbed one of us and luckily it was Danny. I never stopped running or looked back and was inside the school within seconds as I remember it. I told the teacher what had just happened and that it was a van and its color, which I don’t now recall. I kind’a remember talking to the cops too, but I’m not sure if that was a real memory or not. They were caught sometime that same day and Danny was recovered, I think it was within 2 hrs or so. I don’t know If they did anything to him. Oh yea, almost forgot, I was molested by a 13-year-old neighbor girl when I was 5. (The same great family of kids that put me on the roof.) Thanks for leaving me with only my sister to watch out for me; I really appreciate that mom and dad. I still remember feeling the strong urge to pee while she fondled and made me rub myself against her genitals. I don’t really think it affected me mentally, but hey what does a 5 year old know. Maybe it was why I was so sexually active as a teen. I don’t know how many times she did it, I only remember her dad catching us and how mad he was. Hey one solace; at least it wasn’t a guy. My 5th year was pretty eventful and traumatic for a little kid. Luckily I lived through it. We moved to NC in the middle of my 5th year.