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where it begins. - me little thingie

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July 15th, 2013


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10:10 pm - where it begins.
How do you begin after two years?

Shall I tell you about the false life I lived for six months in 2011? Shall I tell you of my job as a hairdresser? Shall I just begin by telling you that nothing in my life has changed, and I am the same person I was two years ago at my last post?

I think I will tell you a story. A story of a child, scared, angry, and confused. A child who has never grown up. This child who still lives inside of me...

The last memory I have of my parents together isn't a pretty one. It involves yelling, screaming, fighting and broken glass. You may think I'm too young to remember such a thing; seeing as how I was only 5-years-old, however, the impact of the two most important people in your life hating each other always stays close. That was the last time I ever saw them together.

My mother took me away. She was 23.

A year later, I had a sister. A year after that, a brother. Each to a man that wasn't my father. A man I hated. A man I despised. The only person I've ever hated. Hate is a strong word, you know, but in this case, it's justified.

He beat my mom (she would deny it). He beat my brother and sister (again, the denial). He threatened to beat me (never going to happen). I wished him dead. I would plot in my bed ways to suffocate him. Ways to make him disappear from our lives. He's never left. He's still my mother's knight in shining armor. They are actually married now, and yours truly wasn't even invited to the wedding.

Would I be the way I am today had things been different? Had my parents stayed together would I have a diagnosis for the rest of my life? Would I be another statistic?

I look at Madison and Elliott, and know... actually KNOW... that even if things were rough between the husband and I, I would never tear them away from their home. I would never shuffle them between houses. I would never allow them to live two lives and I would never, never, do anything to hurt them... physically or mentally.

I see myself as I am getting older... I am my mother's daughter. I see Madison as she is getting older... she is her mother's daughter. Is this a never ending cycle?

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