Monthly Archives: October 2011

The Woman Who Made Me Strong.

When I was growing up there was a family that my “parents” were friends with.This relationship happened by chance, the strong brave woman & her(my incubator) worked together.On top of that the town I grew up was small, not tumbleweeds rolling down the road small but small all the same. The strong woman & her wonderful husband had children a little younger than I & we went to school together. This woman saved me, saved me from my own self destruction.She kept me sane throughout the bad years. If it wasn’t for her & that wonderful family I wouldn’t be  sitting here today. She was my MUM, yes I  realise she never gave birth to me but she was my Mum non the less. She took me in, she wiped my tears away & she made me realise I had hope. Nobody had ever done so much for me as she did. She was a funny woman, she cared not for material items, she had her own style & she never cared what others thought. She was a stickler for things done right,she had her own ways and we stuck to them. The woman she was made me the mum I am. When I lost my first child she held me tight, she told me my day would come & I would be a mum & a great one. I held those words in my heart & a few years later her words became truth. All the while she was batling along with a chronic condition, she never let on & she just did what had to be done. She never swore unless the occassional “shit” blurted out. She was a proud woman & everywhere she went people respected her. She was wiser than her years, she never ever put herself above others & she held everyone in equal esteem. Over a decade ago she started feeling a bit under the weather, so she took herself to the doctor. To this day it’s ingrained in my heart. She had cancer, I was hopeful I mean she was strong she  could do anything.I thought she would beat it hands down. God I was wrong so so wrong. I got so angry it hurt, it burnt my soul. Why take her she is a mum with 3 sons & me. My little brother(her youngest) has never been the same.It’s like he’s lost in a fog & can’t find his way out.Her husband, the greatest dad any child could ask for is a firm believer in loving only once. He too is a broken man, his eyes say more than he ever will. He has always been a man of few words but I respect that. There is so many times since she was taken from us that I wish for even 1 hour she was here.So thanks to the strongest woman that graced this earth.You will live in my heart forever.

Advertisements

The Emotional Assassin.

I am writing my story today in hope that wherever you are geographically or emotionally you will see there is hope.

I am a mum of 2 children & I am married to a wonderful man. Once upon a time this was an impossible dream. I spent a long time in the fog an eternity being blanketed by a weight that was so heavy I thought I would be squashed.

My “father” & “mother” (terms I cannot use) were toxic & beyond words I can convey here. He “the sperm donor” was drug addled & mentally unwell. He had her “the incubator” walking the streets at 16. He had fantasies of an empire built on drugs & prostitution. She just wanted to escape the mundane.

At 19 she fell pregnant with me & her life didn’t skip a beat. She walked the streets until she was unable to “pick up” anymore. I was born they attempted some semblance of normalcy. I have no idea why since the damage was already done. He was a wife beating misogynist & she was a prescription drug addict they were a match made in heaven. I grew older and as I did I watched him beat her senseless usually over trivial shit like make up or clothing. She was called every name under the sun from slut to whore & words I prefer not to write. He would grab her hair and smash her head against a coffee table & scream. When he screamed he sounded like a woman, like a banshee. He had guns, so many weapons & he was always paranoid that people were after him. He often would snap & have her & I sit in the lounge room like a hostage situation. We couldn’t speak we weren’t allowed to go to the toilet or get a drink. “Sit fucking there you pair of Cunts”. That’s all I was, a female worthy of denigration every day over and over. One day 8 days before my 8th birthday she went to work & never came home. I thought the worse immediately that he had finally killed her. Far from that she had left. She had been putting money away over a period of time & sneaking clothing out to start her new life WITHOUT ME. She was gone & I was left to deal with the fallout & my life was never the same. I didn’t know that he was a paedophile I didn’t know he killed people for a living. He soon started to show another side I never knew, he was deranged and a monster. He took trips over seas to buy children to unleash his wrath on little girls & boys who’s parents where willing to sell their children for a premium price. I was raped and sold to his friends I too had a dollar value. How do you become a parent the Emotional Assassin. How do you look your child in the eye & know that you are responsible for their demise. I cannot fathom it, I never will. He went on to abuse me for long enough that I bear physical scars to this day. The mind can heal but the body cannot they say it’s the reverse but I beg to differ. I have been cut with razors had my hands bound with cable ties & to this day shudder at the sight of them. Throughout the years that he defiled my life he also put me on a path of self destruction. I took so many drugs, drugs to make me sleep usually. I loved Mogadon, Valium pretty much every drug that had a sedative effect. I got into trouble with the law, so much so that now I have a criminal record. I am not proud of that & I wish that I could go back & change so much but that isn’t the way life works is it. I became an alcoholic at 14 & spent time in hospital with alcohol induced ulceration. I was on the downhill run hoping to die & nobody was there to stop me. One day whilst in a local psych hospital I was sitting feeling sorry for myself & I had visitors come to see me. I have a family I know that have been around since before she left. My aunt & uncle (not biological) had come down to check on me & while they were there in the back of my head I had a thought churning over and over. “I have to tell them I have to tell them”, I owe them that much. You see nobody knew about his abuse as he had threatened to take my life and those around me & I believed it. The sun was right above me & you know that feeling you get when the back of your head feels that sensation like fire mixed with perspiration. Right then I thought “Fuck you I am going to tell them” & I did. The words flowed out like a verbal purge of shame, guilt & so much anger. Within weeks they had me seeing a specialist detective who dealt with adults that had been abused as children. I bit the bullet so to speak & made him accountable for his years of mistreatment & it felt good. Like I had learned to breathe again or walk with crutches. I felt liberated & powerful but most of all I felt HUMAN. I could walk down the street & not fear corners or people coming towards me. I look at others without feeling watched & I could speak without fear of retribution. There is so much more to my story & it is very hard to write it all in one go but little by little on days when my thoughts are my own I can write. These days I count everyday a blessing & when I look at my two beautiful children I know that I lived & survived for a greater purpose. That is to watch my children grow to give them love to see them accomplish whatever they desire & most of all to protect them at all cost.

In the end we all have the ability to overcome our demons & there is hope. The answer isn’t in a television show, it isn’t in a book & it isn’t in a bottle. The only person you can look to is yourself. Thank you for reading my story.


A site all Parents should be aware of.

MAKO
Movement | Against | Kindred | Offenders 

Web address mako.org.au this site is a real eye opener.These filthy individuals need to be made PUBLIC. If you have time please pass the site on.We all have the rights as parents & carers to be privvy to this information.


Today I feel like this….

Old man by Marilyn Manson


I hate Germs(I wonder if they hate me?)

Seriously I truly hate germs. For a bit over a week I have felt like crap.That snotty & coughing kind of crap,the kind of hot & cold sick you get. I am too old for these stupid germs that reproduce like rabid animals in spring. I don’t “do” sick, I mean I can deal with real diseases but the common cold can just bite my arse. It’s draining & tiresome, I wake at such stupidly early hours needing my puffer & then I cannot get back to sleep. My little girl went on her girst ever camp away this week & I was beside myself. She has never spent time away overnight without either me or her father & here I was pacing the floor the other night like a mad woman. Sometime during the evening when she was gone I actually turned to SmutMan & told him to go and get her. I kid you not I sat here panicking and thinking of every stupid thing that could happen.From bush ticks to broken legs I had worried about it all.She came back to me safe in and in one peice yet she was so very tired. My girl treasures her sleep and she is a very particular sleeper.She has numerous pillows on her bed from fluffy to flat & a body pillow for good measure. At the camp she had to really rough it with ONE pillow, I mean geez how would she cope without her pet pig pillow & her stuffed friends. This was a great distress to her & me, so when she arrived home smelling of a camp fire & dishevelled she promptly put herself in a huge bubble bath & proceeded to tell me all about the trip. She had met a friend, not just any friend but a GOANNA, a friendly one that followed her everywhere she told me.It even appears to of wanted to hop on the bus to come home with her. Not that I dislike lizards but hey we have our resident guinea pig Milo & I highly doubt he would be very happy with a 3 foot long goanna taking up his yard. She told me how the other girls were so stupid and all they did is talk all night to at least 11.30 she reckons even though she had no watch and there wasn’t a clock.She just KNEW it was 11.30 because she could tell.After her bath she threw herself on her bed content to be home with her pillows and rainbow lamp.God I love her, her brother on the other hand did not show much emotion in regards to her absence & while she was away he took over her Wii & DS as you do when your sister is away long enough to create havoc. He did however ask me that night if he could sleep with us, as he felt scared because she wasn’t there in the room next to her(he was missing her greatly).Aspergers has a way of robbing kids of their emotional responses, so we knew it was his way of telling us he was sad & wanted her there.It has been an interesting week full of stories and tissues.I am so happy that it ends tomorrow & the weekend is upon us.So I will plod along with my common cold until next time.


The month of Mourning.

For the longest time in my life I have known how to mourn. I dare say I was born this way, like a genetic imprint on your soul.All good Sicilian woman know how to it’s imperitive we do. This month brings 2 significant reasons to be in perpetual mourning, 4 weeks to be exact.There is actually 3 deceased people but I will get to that. 18 years ago I lost my son,he was stillborn at 25 weeks and 4 days.He was buried by my father as I lay in hospital a blithering mess.I had no counciling no therapy not even a there there it will all be ok.Just a blunt, cut and dry bitch of a nurse who doled out Valium & Morphine every 4 hours.My son was buried in accordance with our custom.He has a plain white cross to mark his resting place.No marble headstone no fancy urns just a plain white cross that I demanded he had.He would of been a grown man this month 18 & my adult son.He is all but a shell and his grave is tended by my best friend who is part of this month of mourning.Rest in Peace my son.The second person I mourn for is a woman I called my aunt & I still do yet we have no genetic links but a beautiful relationship that can only be described as soul saving.This woman was more than my friend she was like a mother unlike the incubator that birthed me.My aunt was strong,independant and full of life.She was small in size but had a mighty heart.She could make a man look feeble,she was unstoppable and a force of pure love.She passed away after a short but cruel fight with cancer.A woman who could not or should I say would not utter a foul word ever no matter her anger or hurt.That was until she became riddled with this vile insidious disease that robbed her of life.I attest my parenting & my humanity to her.She taught me that not all people are evil not all people are here in this world to hurt you.That you can trust people, that you can speak up.She is the reason I am still breathing today.She saved me from the brink & made me see the possibilities. I miss her incredibly but her son. my mate who tends to my sons grave,he is a broken man.He was a young man when she passed and he has never came out through the fog.He is still wandering lost & I worry that he may never return.Rest in Peace my Aunt.

The third person to die was him,the perpertrator of evil,the sperm donor the bastard that gave me life.I do not mourn him I never will.He took his life on the anniversary of my sons death.He was selfish to the end and nobody that vile deserves my tears anymore.


%d bloggers like this: