Through A Child's Eyes

Chapter One

2004-11-05T13:14:00.000-08:00

The memories of my childhood come to me like scattered photographs. Every photograph is embedded deeply within my heart. I can feel the moment as if it were this very moment. My life has always been like that scattered photographs scattered emotions. Until I was seven the photos were sparse. I suppose that is a good thing considering what I do remember. Still I often wonder what happened between the memories.

How can I explain what happened to me without explaining how it is that these things could happen? In doing that I must share the truth as I remember it to be. The truth as seen through a child’s eyes.

I grew up in a crazy household one too many people see. My father was a biker (temper and all) and my mother was a stripper when they met. Immediately upon meeting, they feel in love. How poetic, and yet it wasn’t. They were people like anyone else and they had baggage. Life was rough.

My father worked a lot I do not remember seeing him very often. He worked multiple jobs at times, traveled with the circus selling novelty items. Often his job took him away from home. Typically, we were not allowed to go with him to work because he would be gone for days at a time. There was a time though when he was traveling with the circus that we were allowed to go with him.

I was a very young maybe five. I made friends with the clowns; it was a little boy and his father. I remember thinking they were so funny and wanting to do what they did. One time they actually allowed me to dress up and perform m with them. The exacts of the moment are not clear but I can still feel the excitement of it all.

Sadly traveling with the circus was not all fun and games. What was my first and should have been my last car accident happened during that time. There was a bad rain storm in the middle of the night. My dad was driving way in front of everyone acting as a point. Apparently there was a road block and my dad nearly hit it. He had to get out of the car to see what it said because it was storming so badly. He must have been in a daze from the whether and nearly hitting the sign because he did not put the car in park correctly. The van began to roll backwards, my dad tried to jump back in. he had a leg hanging out of the van door when the van began to pick up speed and roll. The van rolled three times.

My brothers, sister and I were thrown from the van. My dad’s leg was crushed. My dad was frantic he thought that the accident did kill us. On a broken leg he hobbled around calling out our names trying to find us. Finally we were all accounted for except our little brother. (My dad always laughs when he tells this part of the story.) My little brother was playing inside a large trunk. Somehow he had no idea what had just happened. My mom was terrified she was running up and down the road trying to find someone that could help.

Luckily, the rain broke during the accident and there were other people who we were traveling with that were not far behind us. When we got to the hospital the doctor said we were lucky to have survived the accident especially dad. His leg was busted up badly. All these years later, I still do not know but one or two people who would have made the same choice that my dad did that day. Like a rock strong and unbreakable he decided to continue on with the circus. Broken leg or not he was bound to not let it faze him. We were sent home and he went on to make money for his family.

My mom had a strong spirit too but hers was strong in a way most people could not see. She was strong in the sense of being able to keep going no matter how bad life got. Her choices were really good but continually she survived regardless of what life threw her way and that says a lot. My mother played a lot. My mother was a bad alcoholic, drug user and she had multiple guy “friends”. She was also beautiful and magnetic. She had an aura about her that made people want to be near her.

I knew that the things she chose to do were not okay. I saw the men come and go. I knew she was never around but I did not suffer. I did not know her as a mommy I knew her as who she was. I had no idea that I was suppose to have something I did not have. I do not know if my salvation was ignorance or understanding. I feel like I have always understood why she made the choices she made.

Perhaps my salvation was my sister, who had taken on the role of mommy with me and my brothers. On my mother's disappearing acts, my sister was always there to make sure that we were feed and taken are of. I continue to feel great guilt at knowing that in all sense of the word my sister became my mommy. She gave up her own childhood to protect us. She was only about five maybe six when she began to care for me. I am also eternally grateful to her. I know that it was her protectiveness that spared us in some degree from the reality of the world in which we lived.

As I said my parents loved each other deeply. There love could not conquer their past or there actions. When they were around each other, they fought insanely. Anything you can imagine happened, broken bones, teeth knocked out, black eyes, and they kicked each other’s asses. The fights would get so out of control they would yell for us to call the cops on each other.

I did not witness the majority of the fights. My sister would often scurry us from the room. Many fights I did see too many. I remember instances when I would plead for my father to stop hitting my mother for fear that he might kill her.

Even though my father was a violent man, my brothers, sister and I were never on the receiving end of his anger. I never feared my father with me he was gentle and kind. I was his princess and he was my everything. I knew I was always safe in his arms. He often told me I was beautiful one of a kind, and I could be anything I dreamed. He often talked about how the happiest day of his life was when I was born. He said that when he saw me he thought I was so beautiful. He wanted the perfect name for me so he named me after two of the most beautiful actress he had ever seen, Brigit Bardot and Ann-Margaret.

With my father working so hard to provide for us he could not always protect us. I believe we moved from Colorado to a small town in Wyoming in hopes of getting my mom away from temptation. The temptation followed us though. Moving to Wyoming moved us away from my dads mom who had often been the one my sister had called when we mom had disappeared. Without having my grandmother around to help us out, we had to rely on our neighbors’ kindness to eat. I doubt my father had any idea how often we went without food until he returned home from work days latter. When we could not count on our neighbors’ kindness, we would steel from the town grocery store. Stealing was a trick past down from my mother’s mom to her then to us. We even ate dog food one time.

When I was older I learned that my mother suffered from depression, bi polar, and multiple personalities. There were times when I was a small child that my mother would go crazy from anger, withdraw from life. There was an incident that still pierces my heart like a knife through my heart.

I remember and I am there again:

My mother is standing in the middle of the living room in our trailer. Suddenly she collapses to the floor. I am bending over her and I can see that she is not breathing. I am so scared tears are streaming down my face and my stomach is in knots. I beg her to get up. Mommy don’t leave us! Get up mommy! Please mommy get up!

Suddenly she starts laughing and jumps to her feet. She looks at us with these eyes so full of pain and anger her words are cold and hollow. “Stop crying,” she says, “you wouldn’t care if I died. You wouldn’t care. Stop crying.”

Today, I hurt for her. I hurt for the pain she must have felt to be able to do what she did to her kids.

I remember and I am there again:

Feeling absolutely terrified I am huddled as close to my big brother and the wall as I can get. I wish the wall would disappear so I could run. My brother and I are holding pillows in front of us like shields. Tears are streaming down my face. We are both pleading for something… I am scared but I peak around the pillow. I see my mother standing in the doorway. She has such hatred in her eyes. In her hand is a large butcher knife. She is shouting but I hear no words.

I can not honestly say what was happening or why. As I was growing up I was told a lot of bad things about my mom. One of the things I was told was that she use to chase my brother and I with knifes. Did she chase us with knifes? Seems unlikely that I would be here to tell the story if she did. If she didn’t then what was the memory about? The scars on my face as camouflaged as they are did they come from her?

I have lived with stories being told to me of her chasing me with knifes. They were told to me as if they were the gospel truth. I have questioned it more times then I can count. The very idea that my mom could have such anger toward me true or not has hurt me. It is a pretty powerful question to toss around inside a child’s head.

When I was four maybe five I was sexually violated for the first time.

My daddy was off working, my mom was off playing and I was looking for my big brother. I knocked on an empty trailer two trailers down from ours. It was one of our play areas. A boy answered the door. I kind of recognize him he is a friend of my brothers. The boy is probably eleven or twelve I guess. I am not really sure as I age so does he in my memory.

He says that my brother is inside but only club members are allowed to come in. I asked him if I could be in the club. My brother was my idol if he was apart of it then I wanted to be too. The boys said I could join but I would have to be initiated.

I remember sitting on a couch in the living room of the trailer. I was feeling nervous and excited. What was the club? What was the initiation? I soon found out…

I remember and I am there again:

I can't breathe. A heavy weight is on top of me…it is the boy. I'm crying in pain. I am begging him to get off. I try to push him away but he is too big I am not strong enough. My head slumps to the side feeling defeated, shocked, and helpless. Looking at the blurred carpet, I beg for it to be over.

The next thing I remember is telling my dad what happened. When I told him he got so angry, he left to find the boy. He wanted to hurt those who hurt me. I felt safe and protected. It is odd how your mind protects you from horrible memories; it hid the memory of this incident from me until years latter….

Flash forward:

My great grandparents had invited my father, little brother and I to a potluck dinner. The dinner was being served in the basement of their church. Their church happened to be in the town my family had lived in when I was a little girl. It was always nice to spend time with them. Everything was going good until I looked across the room and saw one of the servers. I immediately froze when I saw him. I didn’t understand why at first but looking at the boy who was now seventeen or eighteen scared me. As I watched him smile and greet the people, I felt sick. My father noticed me watching the boy he looked at me and asked if I remembered the boy. My answer was tears springing to my eyes. I did remember and I felt it happen again.

After I was rapped by the boy, we moved to a town about forty-five minutes from where we were. Everything was good I was happy and carefree. Our new house was in walking distance to the school. In our backyard there was a sunflower that stood so tall it seemed gigantic. It was amazing how it turned to face the sun. I thought it was magical.

There were lot of magical things about my life at that moment. I was so happy, life seemed great. I got to start kindergarten and I loved it. I was very popular with the boys and the girls. Particularly with the boys, whom I would chase and kiss. There was one little girl that hated me though because I “knew” I was awesome. She sat behind me in class and sometimes put gum in my hair. (Years latter she became my best friend)

Everything was great until my parent began to fight again. I am not sure about the timeline but there was a trip we went on as a family. During the trip my mom was making us kids some sandwiches and my dad asked her to make him one. I am not sure why but somehow it erupted into a fight and my mom pulled a knife on my daddy. She made him pull over and she jumped out of the car and began to walk away from him from us. After a long argument she agreed to get back in but only after he promised that he would never hit her again. She told him that if he hit her again she would leave.

With missing pictures, I can’t be positive that the next fight I remember and the outcome of it was the result of that fight but here goes. My mom was undressing in the living room and my daddy asked her to go change in the bedroom because his friends were coming over. My mom ignored my daddy’s request and a fight begun. The fight escalated and my mom broke a bottle over my dad’s ear. Once again we were sent to call the cops.

My mom held true to her word and once my father left for work she told us we would be moving. I was excited and sad about moving. At show in tell I told everyone I would be leaving. My friends and I hugged and cried than my mom showed up and we went outside. I was surprised to see my mom’s friend’s car instead of my dad’s van. Something did not feel right. I asked my mom where my dad was. Sitting in the backseat with my brothers and sister, I began to cry and continued to ask about my daddy. My mom got tired of telling me to shut up she reached back and smacked me. That was when everything I knew began to unravel.

Prologue

2004-11-02T15:43:00.000-08:00

I am twenty-six years old. I feel the seconds click by knowing my silence adds to the speed at which time flies. As a child, I experienced some very horrendous things. Unspeakable reality played out before my eyes either personally or as a spectator. Unspeakable... they were. They are for so many. As an adult or as a child, how can one find the strength to admit that monsters do exist? It is not easy to admit that life is not a fairy tale but a struggle. If these realities are admitted, how does one find peace of mind?

I find my trouble exists within peace of mind. I have no peace of mind. At twenty-six, I remain stranded and alone but for very different reasons. The events of my life. I remain alone due to the overwhelming pain I feel for the children who suffered as I once did.

I can look over my life and honestly say although there were horrendous things that happened, I would not erase them (most of the time). I would not erase them because I know every painful step has led me to who I am today. Do not misunderstand me. I have issues, as you will see, but my issues make me.

As a child, I found my strength to endure through a promise. I promised that I would not allow others to feel the pain I knew so well. I have realized through the years that as powerful as I would like to be, I am not Superman. I cannot shield everyone from the pain. My hope remains that, if only in a small way, I can help.

It’s cold
So dark
I’m scared
Where am I
Why am I all alone?
Where’s my daddy?
Why won’t he save me?
I see him through the darkness
He is too far away
Something’s wrong... he cant save me
I turn to the fairy tale stories
It is there that I find hope.
I find an escape within these words.
I am free, happy, I've been saved
Until the story ends.
I am returned to the dark abyss
But I know one day…
My prince will come
And I WILL find happiness.
I will find peaceful days
I will find calm restful nights
So I wait
I hope I dream
I cry, I beg, I plead.
The dream gives me strength.
As time flows by the dream begins to fade.
I turn to god.
If anyone can save me is it not him? I beg I plead I bargain.
I declare my faith
Yet the darkness remains, the pain continues, I can barley breath
I try to crawl from the hole that has become my life
I try to escape to a world where pain and torment is not the norm
I try to believe in me
There is nothing to grasp
No hope to hold onto
I try to believe I am better than this
I hear that I am not
I need to find my prince
I need to show god I am worthy of saving
I try to believe I am not a victim
I slowly move an inch, two three
I try to believe I do not deserve this
Then I fall
Again and again
Rape, death, molestation, A.I.D.S, loneliness, need, depression, abuse
I tell myself I will make it
Each time I fall
Still I must try
I have to find my prince
I have to find my happiness
I have to show god I am worthy of saving
It is so quiet
The silence is overwhelming
My only companion is my tears
Oh, I have friends
Friends that know the dark abyss
Experiences differ but together we represent
The lost and forgotten
Those eyes avert for fear of understanding
For fear of being tainted
Together our hearts find a bit of peace
In knowing we are not alone
Shhhh
No one knows our pain
The façade we show screams untouchable
Uncaring
Together we survive
Together we dream of a better tomorrow…
Together we climb
Together we fall
Together our strength wanes
Why?
Reasons very
It is tough to fight when you seem to get only deeper into the abyss
It is tough to fight when no one understands
It is tough to fight when the pain keeps coming
Justification to give up arises
After all who cares about tomorrow?
Shit, who cares about today?
The world sucks, people suck, life sucks.
It is all shit!!
It is quiet again
No one climbs
Shhhh
I will climb I have to even if it means I fight alone
I want to give up
I want to hide from the reality of the world
I want to escape from the pain
I know the blissful thought suicide evokes
The constant ache within my heart has become the norm
I hear the cry for release
But I must fight
I understand why others can not fight
How can I not understand?
How can anyone
When the pain is so suffocating
You feel encaged beaten broken lost
And so fucking alone
I am sad
For those who lost there strength
I am scared I will lose mine
In a world where people have NO IDEA
What pain struggle and torment are truly about
I wonder if someone stopped
And truly looked with eyes of empathy
Would there new found shock and pain change anything?
The cold uncaring eyes and words
Magnifies the pain
If they knew the strength it took to
Survive
Would the pain of the lost and forgotten ease
I am tired of the snotty looks
Tired of the whispers
And shitty words
YOU DO NOT KNOW ME
COULD YOU SURVIVE?
You live
I am death essentially
I pray for release
I pray for god to save me
Where is my prince?
Wait….
WHERE IS GOD?
Are you telling me god wants his children to suffer?
You must be for all that happens is meant to be
It is all in god’s master plan
Ummm…
Still I pray
Release me from the darkness
Release me from the pain
Why me
I can not survive the pain
Please please
Help me
Help me understand why me
Please god please
I pray
I pray
I pray
Silence remains
I am soo tired
Please no more pain!
I fall
I pray
I fall
I stay
The silence of god is such a massive shock
A difficult reality
The reality of relationships not being fairy tales
Breaks the remaining bit of hope I had
Prince charming was just a story?
It can’t be
No one is going to save me?
This is my life?
My one chance on earth?
This is forever
Tears flow
I feel defeated
Wait
No
NO FUCKING WAY
I did not go through this for naught
I did not struggle to survive
Simply to continue the pain
I WILL endure
This may be my path my destiny.
But I will not let silence and ignorance win
My pain will not be for not
I cry daily inside for those whom have no strength
I feel strength to endure for those who have no voice
In hopes of helping them know they are not alone
Or hopeless
That has been the hardest to endure
Feeling so alone feeling no hope
I am also here
I have survived
To open the eyes of those who have not seen the hearts of those who have not felt
For life was never meant to be a ride for only one
I share my story with you in hope
For a better tomorrow