Ramblings of a Broken Mind

Part One- Born Into Chaos

I have little remembrance of a normal childhood. My furthest back memory is of my parents screaming at each other as my father packed a few quick things. It would be the last night I spent with my parents together. My mother had a drinking problem. My father was always on the road. It was a terrible combination from the start that eventually led to the destruction of what may have once been a happy home.

We left my mother in Arkansas. My younger brother and I were taken to live with my grandmother in Florida. Being 9 hours away meant I could only see my mother certain times a year. My father continued to work on the road causing him to stay gone most of the year himself.

Life in Florida with my grandmother was not terrible, however was not an enjoyable existence. She ran a daycare in which she spent most of her time watching the town's children while their parents worked. I quickly became another source of income and was treated as such rather than a part of the family even after work hours. I slept in different rooms of the daycare on napping mats until they finally put me a small bed in the office room.

At some point my father started dating again. He moved me and my brother in with his new girlfriend when I was about 7 years old. He was still working and gone quite a bit. His girlfriend had two sons much older than my brother and I. One of the older brothers started to get very inappropriate with me at night after everyone went to bed or during the times the family was at work. My innocence was stripped from me before I was old enough to even understand. It went on for weeks. With my father always being gone I was afraid to tell him what was going on out of fear of possibly getting in trouble. I confided in his girlfriend instead thinking she would know what to do.

It seemed she was genuinely concerned at first. She ensured me she would let my father know and that everything would get worked out. Unfortunately he would not be back for some time. As the days went on her son never touched me in that way again. However, she became complacent about how her sons started to terrorize me. Holding me under water in the backyard pool was one of their favorite ways to scare me. When I was finally allowed up I would be gasping for air. They would keep doing this until I finally started crying and was allowed to leave the pool. Anytime I would try and tell my father's girlfriend what was being done she would accuse me of tattling. Several occasions it was things that would go on under her supervision. It became apparent she no longer felt a need to pretend to be concerned.

I managed to find ways to avoid people from that point forward. I would spend time by myself playing in the field outside the home as far away as I was allowed. The more alone I was the safer I felt. When surrounded by people I'd try and bring as little attention to myself as possible. Invisibility became a makeshift safety technique. Even as a child I could feel the light draining from me. I didn't quite understand it at the time. It seemed as if I just started to outgrow singing, dancing, or any little thing I used to enjoy. Trust and my sense of security around others only diminished as I grew older.

Once my father came back and broke things off with his girlfriend my brother and I were moved back in with my grandmother in Florida. Not much had changed from the last time. I was a bit older so the rules were not as strict as they had been the first time I lived there. There were new freedoms that came with new rules which made the rules not entirely painful to deal with. It was harder to find time alone since there was almost always other people around since my grandmother still ran the daycare. Being outside on my own wasn't allowed. I was allowed to do more creative things such as arts and crafts.

Drawing became one of the few comforts of mine despite the tons of discomforts I faced growing up with the life I had. Constantly being moved around, missing my mother, watching her sink deeper into a hole (which eventually caused me to suffer an entirely new pain), going through different types of abuse I wouldn't understand until later in life, all took its toll. Getting lost in the art kept my mind busy while providing me with a break from reality. I was able to use my imagination and create my own world for a little while. It proved to be something I would use quite a bit to cope with things I would go through.

My life was pretty chaotic up until this point. Even without all the great details. I still didn't know how to wrap my head around things. All I could do was follow along with what life had laid out for me. What comes next would make everything I suffered up until this point seem like nothing at all.