HARVEST LIFE GRACEFULLY
MY STORY
Examination of my life- preschool years- part one
To harvest life gracefully during my preschool age was a impossible task for me as I did not feel loved I was a very bashful, lonely and vulnerable little girl. Envisage, me as a 16 month old child whom had not yet begun to walk because I was born with my hip bone out of my hip socket. One of my legs, were longer than the other. Apparently, this type of deformity was not well-known then as today, my physical imperfection was rare and strange for my parents. After seeking medical advice from medical experts, my parents were advise to have a medical procedure performed to put my hip bone back into its' hip socket. My parents struggle with making a decision to have this medical procedure, because family members were giving my parents frightful comments about how I would become crippled, then
horrible arguments broke out about it; while I was standing in the mist of those arguments. I have no memories of these arguments, but I know they took place, because my mom told me so. Knowing my parents as I do, I am sure I did not receive any emotional support from my parents about the arguments that I overheard. I am sure that I came to believed there was something terrible wrong with me and I blamed myself for it. I came to this conclusion from doing research about children and how they process traumatic situations, when emotional support is not present.
Against family wishes my parents decided to go ahead with the medical procedure as the doctors advised. The hospital, where the procedure was to be done at was 50 miles away from my home. Oh! by the way, I forgot to mention that my mom was 8 months pregnant at this time. On March 29, 1955, was the day, I arrived at the hospital for my procedure. While at the hospital, on the same day my mom's water bag broke and she went into labor. She then, was rushed, by my dad, in his vehicle to a hospital that was 75 miles away, where she delivered my brother. I was left alone, feeling frightful I began to cry my little heart out, long and hard. No one came to my rescue, except for another patient, who was admitted, for a skin disease. She came into my room, picked me up out of the crib, sat down in the rocking chair, that was in my room, held me and comfort me, as she rock me in that rocking chair. While she was comforting me, the nurse came in, saw what she was doing and demanded her to leave my room immediately. The nurse said, “You have no business being in another patients room, especially since you have a skin disease that could possible be pass on, you need to leave this room now!.” (I never did get a skin disease from her) Later, after my dad was able to return to the hospital, this lady told my dad what happened. She said , “Your daughter was crying so loud, and hard, I felt so bad for her, I could not resist, picking her up to rock and comfort her. My dad said, “Thank you, for looking out for her.”
My dad had problems getting to the hospital to be with me, because he was a dairy farmer, his cows needed to be milk every morning and evening. Then there were 4 other children at home to be attended to. He felt conflicted, between his responsibilities to his cows, his wife in one hospital, his daughter in another and 4 other children at home. My dad was able to manage this dilemma, by asking for help and support, from family members. He ask my grandma (my mom's mother) to stay with me at the hospital, a few hours each day, she agree to do so. Otherwise, I was pretty much left alone, during the hospital stay.
This event in my life was an uncontrollable event. Never-less it was an event that affected my life greatly. Feelings of abandonment, insecurities and self-worth needed to be addressed, but they were not. Perhaps my parents wasn't aware, or had the know how or their focus were on other things. I believe that this w the beginning of my self-defeating beliefs I had develop about myself. I also believe, this was the beginning of the emotional abuse I received. My emotional abuse from my parents was not one of verbal degrading comments to me but one of emotional neglect of supporting me when I needed it.
Examination of my life- preschool years-part 2
Before I continue with my story, I want to remind you, when we are trying to harvest life gracefully and find purpose in life, the first step in the process is to examine our life for what it is in a factual way. Remember not to place judgment of right or wrong or bad or good. What it is, is what it is, in this way we can get to the point to learn acceptance and forgiveness.
There were sure tell tale signs of my emotional abuse by the way I had acted. When I arrived home from the hospital with a big cast on my leg, that covered the entire leg, and then there was a brand new baby in the home. All of these changes caused me to feel insecure and I reacted to them.
Soon after, returning home from the hospital, I learn how to walk with that big, ugly cast on my leg, this is when I began to act out my insecurities, I decided to run away from home. I can still hear my mother telling me, in a joking, laughing manner, of how far down the road I had gotten before she notice that I was gone. She sent my oldest brother to fetch me, but the closer he got to me I would try to run faster, not wanting him to catch me. My parents laugh it off, my parents had no ideal that I was emotional unstable and I needed emotional support. I did not know how to cope, why I was left at the hospital alone? My thoughts were, what was wrong with me that I was left there? Then, after returning home from the hospital and finding a new baby in the home, I thought that this baby was there to replace me. It is obvious that a mind of a 16 month old child does not have the capabilities to understand all that had taken place and the reasons why. Without the emotional support, it only reaffirmed the belief, that had already began to form in my mind, though overhearing family arguments about my physical deformity of my hip, that I was unloved and not wanted.
Another tell tale sign was how at bed time, I would stand upon the top of the stairs to my bedroom, yelling and crying down at my parents begging them, if they loved me. This was an every night occurrence. My parents would get frustrated with me, and yell back “Go to bed!” I then would go to bed feeling more unloved and unwanted because I heard the anger in my parents voice directed at me instead of any love or affection they had for me. The next night would repeat itself over again. I am not sure how long this behavior lasted, but am quite sure it lasted long enough, until, I realized what I needed from this type of behavior, I wasn't going to get.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I woke up feeling scared. I then, walk to my parents bedroom, I asked, “Can I sleep with you?” Either my mom or dad would say, “You can crawl in bed with us, but you need to sleep at the foot of the bed by our feet.” This lasted for maybe about 10 times before my parents told me, “to stay in my own bed .”
Another good example is when I would wrap my arms around my mother's legs while she was standing at the kitchen sink. Saying over and over “I love you” wanting her to reply back with the same. She pushed me away and said, “Leave me alone.”
My mom was never very good in showing her affection to her children once they got into the toddler stage. I do not remember hugs, being held, receiving loving touches from my mother's hand or even words of “I love you.” given freely by her.
After years gone by and into my adulthood is when I discovered that my parents did truly love me. The problem was the lack of awareness, and my mom's feelings of being overwhelmed and depressed about her life, and my father being so busy trying to be the provider. My dad has since pass, he left this world with my love and respect and he had love and respect for me. My mom lives close by and I see her often, words of “I love you” with a hug is exchange whenever we meet.
The purpose to examine your life as it is, in order to harvest life gracefully and find purpose in your life, is just what it is. You are looking upon your life without judgment and not looking at it as good or bad. It is what it is, just plain fact.
Examination of my life- grade school years-part 3
Down the road, a mile away from where I lived, up on the hill, stood a white catholic church, one house where the pastor of the church lived and another house where the nuns lived. The nuns job was to teach the students that went to school at the small brick schoolhouse, which was located on the same property near the houses. The nuns, were a site to see, they wore a long black gown called a habit, It went all the way to their ankles and all the way to their wrist, with a big rounded stiff, starchy collar. A white rope was tied around the waist with a rosary attached. A long black veil with a white stiff cap that cover the head, ears and side of head, no hair was allowed to be seen and the only skin allowed was the skin on their hands and face. I often held imaginary images in my mind of how they would actually look like, such as their hair and body without their habit on and with normal clothing on. Vanity was a big issue for the nuns in the Catholic faith at that time.
The school housed 8 grades, first though eighth. There were four classrooms, two grades per room and one nun teacher per room. Including myself there was 10 kids in my class, three boys and seven girls. The school 's main focus was teaching music and religion. It was mandatory for everyone to attend mass at church, every day upon arrival to school and just before any classes took place. Then on every Friday we were march off to the church to confess our sins to the priest. Once a week the priest would come to your class room and delivered a message about God and love that was long, and drawn out, which left me confuse with no understanding of the message. Religion class was of utmost importance, we were graded on memorizing all of the prayers and the catechism word from word.. Teaching what the prayers and the catechism meant was not in the teacher's teaching plans. We were taught how to read music, recognize musical instruments and their sounds, to know the names of the composers of classical music, like Mozart and Bach, and how to sing. The students of the school were the choir for the church. I went to so many funerals, that my family doesn't have enough toes and fingers to count how many. These funerals made me feel curious about life and death but also very fearful. Perhaps it's because of how confusing mortal sin was to me, and not understanding God's love and if I was worth his love. . For a preteen youngster, seeing a funeral procession with a casket and crying people was a overwhelming experience. A memory that stay etched in a mind, forever.
During recess, the girls was not allowed to play with the boys. Each class had their own designated area on the school grounds to play. There were no intermixing with other grades or with boys. A playground of swings, slides and merry-go-round was available for the really little kids. Softball was the game of choice for the older kids. Sliding on the snow was the preferred activity during the winter months. Cardboard boxes was a popular item to use to slide down the hill. It was not unusual to form a chain with your classmates by locking elbows' before pushing off. The trick was to see if you can get to the bottom of the hill without breaking the chain.
A checkered red/green jumper with a white blouse was the uniform worn to school by the girls. The boys wore dress shirts and brown or black dress pants. On a regular basis the nuns would check to see if the jumper worn by the girl was not too short, by checking if the skirt hem of the jumper touched the floor when the girl knelt on the floor. If it did then it was long enough and if it didn't then a note was sent home to have the hem lowered. The mini style was in at this time so most of the girls in my class decided to get clever, by practicing in the privacy of their own bedroom, learning how to slouch while kneeling to make the skirt hem touch the floor, without the nuns noticing the slouching. Some girls got pretty good at it because the skirt hem of the jumper was above the knee and she was able to convince the nun that the hem actually did touched the floor while kneeling.
One day when I was probably in the 6th grade, one of my classmates decided to draw a picture of a naked women. One of the nuns found the drawing and demanded to know who drew it. No body would tell, therefore the nun decided to give us a long lecture about impure thoughts. We were told how to take a bath so not to provoke impure thoughts. A quick wash and a quick dry without taking a look at your body. Keeping your eyes close maybe? There were to be no looking in the mirror at yourself either. From that day forward, whenever I took a bath, I would hear those words spoken by this nun, and wonder if I was going to go to hell for the way I was washing myself and if I was provoking impure thoughts.
I thought that the ideal of a religious school was to teach you how to have a personal relationship with God. To know God's love and forgiveness. To learn how to have faith, hope and love. The eight years I spent going to this school, taught me how to be afraid of mortal sin and intimidated by God. I was taught in a black and white viewpoint. Instead of learning how to listen for God's voice in my heart. I was taught how to listen to the you should not do this or that and you should do this in my head. I was afraid that I would go to hell if I did not follow God's rules exactly and perfectly. I did not hear anything about being saved though faith. I did not understand what faith meant until, way into my adult years and then only, after seeking counsel with a catholic priest because of the effect of what I learned though the teachings of my teachers about sin and hell.
Examination of my life- grade school years- part 4
I did not had any social skills when I started school, therefore making friends was something that I did not know how to do. I did not know how to respond when I was spoken to . Shy and timid was I. Being shy and timid and unresponsive made it easy for the bullies to bully me.
Even though I was quiet, timid and shy, I had my eyes wide open, I was very much aware of people around me. I remember a 8th grade student that came into my classroom on my very first day of school. I was so impress with this person because she had red spots across her forehead. I thought that those spots which were acne, were the coolest things ever and wishing that I had those spots also. Now who on earth would want to have acne all over their forehead? Only naive me! I still chuckle at myself when I think about this.
Yes! I was a sure candidate for being bullied, so quiet and timid and did not know how to have a voice. I allow my peers to say anything to me without any response back from me. Every night when I went to bed I would recite in my head what I would say but I never had the back bone to carry it through when the opportunity arose.
There were name calling such as sparky and stinky. Peers slapping each other hands as to pass along the sparky germs. I was laugh at when I spoke because I had a speech impediment. My teacher would make me stand in front of class and repeat and repeat a word until I could get close to the correct pronoun-cation of the word. During one of the parents teachers conference, the teacher told my mother this, “I believe she knows how to read because she rattles on out loud when reading her book to me but I can't understand a word she is saying.” Therapy for my speech problem was not available until I reached the 6th grade. By then I develop a complex about talking. It was horrible for me to stand in front of the class to give a speech. Hearing the snickers and laughs was devastating to me. I became shameful and embarrassed.
I was made to feel dumb because my grades were poor. I had no one to encourage me to get good grades and neither did I had good study skills, I was to embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help from my peers, as I was ridiculed by them. My dad was busy taking care of the farm and my mom spent much of her time in bed from being depressed when she was not busy feeding the babies. Therefore my parents was not available to me for encouragement. My teachers, the nuns acted like they didn't care, during those days most of the attention went to the students that got good grades. I was passed along from grade to grade even though I had failing grades. Just to show, how little the nuns care or had interest in the students that needed help or had a learning disabilities like me and my brother; my brother who was a year and half younger than me, had gone though a whole semester of school without any books because his teacher threw them in the garbage. Now, how sad it that? This type of attitude from our teachers made me felt worthless.
Often there would be group activities and the leader take turns to pick who they wanted in their group. Of course I was always the last person picked. I hated it when group activities took place because it was just another reminded of how unwanted I was.
My mother sign me up in 4-H a program where you could make crafts such as in sewing, cooking, scrape-booking, photography, canning, gardening, dairy, horses, pigs, chickens and many more categories, these crafts or projects was taken to the county fair to earn ribbons. If you received a purple ribbon you won the grand prize, next in line was the blue, then the red, next the white and last being pink. I usually sign up to take projects in the cooking and sewing category. The fair happenings took place in August, the week before school began from the summer vacation. Of course the topic of the first week of school was the fair and what color of ribbon was receive from your project. No body could believe that I was capable of receiving blue ribbons for my projects. One peer, her name was June, said “No!, this can't be, I don't believe you got a blue, this is impossible, you are not smart enough to get a blue. No! No! I don't believe it!” Then she went off asking my other peers if they could believe it! This cause me to feel like a liar, and shame on me for being capable of doing something well!
Another time June made a big commotion with my other peers about how she discovered that I was blind in my left eye. She discovered this, because once a year nurses would come to the school to test our eyes to see if we needed glasses. During eye testing time, we had to stand in line one behind the other. It just so happened that this same peer was standing directly behind me and seen the results of my eye test. She had said “Can you believe it! She is totally blind in her left eye! Isn't that just freaky?You are a freak,” as she pointed at me and got my other peers to recite “freak!, freak,! freak!”over and over until my teacher said “Enough, now children, we must be quiet now.” This cause me to think I did not belong, I must be some kind of a alien, I am all wrong and felt ashamed for just being alive. June like to show me what her mother packed for her lunch. She always had chips, candy, cakes etc. in her lunch while I usually had a sandwich and a apple. Then she would say, See! My mother love me more than yours, look at all of the good stuff in my lunch, even if your mother did love you, she still will pack only a sandwich and apple in your lunch because you are poor.” Then I would go off crying silently by myself in the bathroom.
These are just a few incidents of being bullied that stands out in my mind, there were many more incidents, but this will give anyone who reads this some ideal the type of abuse and being bullied that I endured.
Examination of my life- home life– grade school years- part 5
My life at home was isolated and secluded for me, I was lucky to be able to ride along with my dad when he went to the nearest town to pick up supplies or groceries. If my dad had extra change he usually gave me and whichever sister or brother that rode along, a quarter teach to go into the dime store and pick out a treat. A candy bar in those days cost about a dime. This was a big deal for me as we usually did not have treats or snack items at home to munch on. If we wanted something to eat between meals we usually ate cereal or toast. Our meals usually consist of tomato hot dish, hamburger, not patty style but brown in a pan and spoon onto our plates, roast, steaks or chops thrown into a pan with water and oven cook. The meat we ate was always from a cow that dad had butcher from his farm. We ate fresh vegetables from a garden that was planted, my siblings and I had to take care of the garden once it was planted. Mom, myself and my siblings did lots of canning and freezing of vegetables during the summer months, to hold us over for the winter. Being that my dad was a dairy farmer we always had milk to drink, but the milk always sat on the kitchen counter and never refrigerated. Because of this, still today I can not stand to drink milk. There were times that a meal was not prepared and we would eat ice cream for a meal. Why ice cream? I don't know, perhaps it was because my dad was a dairy farmer. Why no meal was prepared? Usually it was because there was nothing to prepare a meal with.
During the school months after coming home from school I would take off my school uniform immediately and put on what we call our every day clothes. These clothes were usually mix-matched, stained, had tears or holes in them and were most likely hand me downs. This same procedure was done on Sundays, I had one good outfit that we would call church clothes. Every day clothes were worn for a week before they were wash. Clothes was washed on a every day basis, but they were not folded and put away; In a corner of the dining room stood a big pile of mix clothes that I would have to go though, whenever I needed clean clothes, socks, under clothing or a clean towel, If they were winkled, I then would have to iron them before putting on to wear, unless it was my everyday clothes, I would not iron them.
One of my favorite activity was to swing on a tire swing, that hung in a tree that my dad made. I would swing for hours and dream. I would dream about the person that would sweep me away from the lonely life I was living. I like to ride my bike back and forth on the road, I would ride as far as the neighbor's house then turn my bike around and ride down the road to the bridge. This was about a quarter of a mile long. I was too afraid to go any further than that because somebody just might kidnap me. Another favorite activity that I did was to lay on my bed and listen to the radio, I would dream about different subject matters all depending upon which songs were playing on the radio, I pretended that those songs were all about me and my life and played it out in my dreamlike state of mind. I had a secret hiding place on a roof the stable barn for the cows, that was closely connected to the milking parlor. The roofs of these two buildings overlapped each other and I would hide in between the two roofs. This was a perfect place to be when I wanted to be out of site and not to be found. Still today, not until now had I ever told anybody that I had a special hiding place. The most fun that I had living on a farm was riding on the hay wagon, when it was pile high with hay bales, then being pulled from the field, into the barnyard. One time my brother who was driving the tractor hit a big bump and all of the hay bales came tumbling onto the ground taking me along with, I came within inches of the big tractor wheel, that was still moving forward as my brother was still driving as he did not notice that he had lost his load of hay. From this point on I was not allow to sit on the very top of the load. When the grainery was full of oats it was always fun to bury yourself in the oats, even though there were all kinds of grasshoppers and bugs jumping and crawling around us. On Sunday night was family night, popcorn was made and dad would go out to milk his cows early so that all could sit around the TV and watch Bonanza. Watching TV was very limited, as the TV was placed on the other side of the same wall, where the head of my parents bed was located, being that my mom was struggling with depression she spent a lot of time in bed and would yell at us kids, that the TV was giving her a headache whenever the TV was turned on. On the Fourth of July, mom or one of us girls would pack a picnic lunch and off to the fields we went and had a picnic around the tractor. This was the only time we had anything that would be close to a picnic. Parks and beaches were out of the question as there was to much farm work to be done. To top the summer off, the county fair was the main event, my parents gave myself and my siblings five dollars to spend at the fair and then we participated in 4-H so therefore we presented exhibits from different projects that we completed throughout the summer. I was always excited to see how the judges had awarded my projects, and hoped that I would get the highest ribbon. While at the fair, cotton candy, caramel apples and corn dogs were my favorite food to eat, the rides were thrilling, scarier the ride, better it was for me, I especially love the rides that cause you to go upside down as if you were heading straight to the ground, but I approached the games with caution because my parents always told me that the games was a way for them to get your money gaining nothing for yourself.
There was not a lot of time for play because there was always work to be done on the farm but when there was time, my siblings and myself would play softball, this was possible because I had nine siblings that almost made up a whole team. We played midnight, midnight hope to see the ghost tonight, this was like a hide and seek game that was played after the sun went down. It was fun to hide in the corn patch, scarey but fun. Fox and goose was another game we played in the winter months, we made paths in the snow, you had to stay on the path while playing the game, one person was “it” and the others tried not to get touch by the “it” person because then you became the “it” person. Then, there was this other “game” that was very offensive, it was call family and doctor, this game was role-playing, I will expand on this in another section of my story because this involved sexual activity, I considerate it to be sexual abuse, my sexual abuse will be describe in more detail, in a different section of my story.
Although we had indoor plumbing, we also had an outhouse that I and my siblings had to use whenever my mom did not want us in the house. We were not allow back into the house until she gave the OK to come in. Sometimes it would seem like hours that we were stuck outside. Mom always told us it was because she was cleaning and mopping the floor. I often wonder if this was an excuse so that she could have quiet time to herself. My mom had a lot spells, that made her irrational and there was lots of crying going on. My dad was so patience with her, often times he would sit in the bedroom holding her hand to comfort her. At these times he would make sure that the household chores were completed , meals was prepared, as well as the baby taken care off. I cannot remember, how many times I found my dad, in the living room's rocking chair, where he had spent the whole night holding the baby, because the baby could not sleep and my mom too depressed to get up.
My parents did not had friends that would come and visit, but my uncle's and aunt's would come for a visit from time to time, when they did, I was not allow to take part in any of the conversations, unless they spoke to me first. I was allow to sit in the same room on a chair with a smile on my face. Sometimes my uncle and aunt would bring my cousins and then we were told to go outside to play
My maternal grandmother and grandfather came to visit the most. My maternal grandmother was my favorite person as I was growing up, because she had a way about her that made you feel special. I remember one time she wrote a note on a gum wrapper address only to me. That was one of my most fondest childhood memory, because once you got out of that baby stage, there was hardly any individual attention given by my mom and dad. Most of my fondest memories involve my maternal grandmother and grandfather, probably because each summer I was able to stay a few days with them. During those times my grandmother and grandfather gave me lots of love and special attention, they made me feel important because they accepted me no matter what. One summer when I was staying at about my grandparent's home, my first cousin, who was helping my grandparents out on their farm, he is approximate six years older than me and is very popular within our family. One day he ask me to go swimming with him, in a swimming hole on my grandparent's farm. I was so excited that someone of his statue had ask me to come along. I sat along the edge of the swimming hole, watching him swim, too afraid to get into the water, because I did not know anything about swimming. That day I learn about leeches, because he had them all over his back and chest when he got out of the water. I was in awe how he took the time to explain what leeches were and how they like to suck blood and then how he continue to carry on a conversation with me as we walk back to my grandparent's house, which was close to a mile. The feeling that overcame me cause me to blush and get dreamy eyed. Later, in my early adult years, he tried to have sexual intercourse with me. I will cover that story later in my story.
Celebrating birthday and holidays was pretty slim and not very individualize, my guess for this was because of lack of funds, time and energy. I receive a birthday cake for my birthday but never a party, gift or birthday card, but “Happy Birthday was sung. At Christmas, usually everyone received one gift, it usually was a clothing item, although sometimes we did receive a toy each. Then there was a few family gifts that consisted of a game or two. They were never wrapped, but was put under the tree, a tree that dad had cut from a wooden area on the farm. On Easter we did not have our own individual basket, or chocolate Easter bunny but there was one big bowl filled with candy. We never colored Easter eggs, mom said it was to messy. We did received a new set of clothing for Easter morning church service. Halloween was not celebrated at all, I never went trick and treating until I had my own children. My peers reactions from when they ask what did you get, or what did you do during the holidays would make me feel cheated and then I felt like they were looking at me in disgrace. It wasn't until later on in life that I realize that what was really important was that we were together as a family.
Eamination of my life- childhood sexually abuse- part 6
To write about my childhood sexual abuse is awkward because it involves a close members of my family, but it is essential for me to do so, if I want to complete my healing process. My abuse affected my life enormously and is a factor in how I made carious choices in my adult years; As my story progress I will write about those unhealthy choices.
As kids my older brother and sisters like to play this game called doctor and family. My brother was 6 years older than me, one sister was 4 years older than me and my other sister was 2 years older than me. The exact age that we were when we played these games fails my memory, but I believe I had to be at least between 6 to 10 years of age. I cannot remember how many times these games were play but I do remember it was several times. How the games were developed and who had the ideal, or who decided who pay what role, I do not know. What I do know is that I was the youngest and I had problem with feeling like I belonged. I felt like I didn't belong because my two older sisters, often included me out in most of their activities and when I suggested an idea, I was counted out, laugh at for coming up with a dumb ideal or complaints were made that I was interfering. Most of my interactions with my older brother was lots of teasing, and being picked on, which did not make me feel good about myself. One time I remember him asking me if he could hit me on the head with the hammer; For what ever reason why, I do not know, but I agree to it and when I received a big gash on the top of my head, I went running to my mom crying, all I can remember is a scolding for allowing my brother to do this . Whenever I was invited to play along in a group activity rather if it was a wholesome activity or an unfit activity I felt privilege to do so.
The doctor game consist of my brother being the doctor, one of my sister being the nurse, myself and my other sister being the patient. The patient was required to have objects such as a pencil inserted into their anus and then measured to see how far the object had been inserted.
The family game consist of my brother being the father, myself being the mother, and my sisters were the children. The mother's job was to please the father by having sexual relations. This was play out to it's fullest.
During my puberty years I became afraid to be left alone with my brother. He would usually catch me alone in the milking parlor. My mom never kept house fly spray, often times she would ask me to go to the milking parlor to fetch the barn fly spray to spray the flies on the house screen doors or to get milk from the milk cooler. Often, my brother would be in the parlor doing his chores, then when he saw me walked through the parlor door, he cornered me, then began to touch me in an inappropriate way. As he touched me he would tell me what the name of the body part was, then he went on to explain what that part was used for and how good it felt to him. He also told me that this was our little secret and not to tell anybody.
Some people may think that this was all silly innocent kid play. My perspective is that this was no innocent kid play. This was not normal behavior for kids to play. To me it shows a lack of positive parenting, and neglect. I no longer blame my parents like I once did, because they did not had the know how or skills. It is not fair to blame someone for something that they had no knowledge of.
I now accept it for what it is with the understanding of how it affected my life by forgiveness and releasing any anger and blame.
My brother is the one constant person of my childhood sexual abuse. It took years to feel comfortable with him and accept any affection of good will from him, due to memories of his abuse on me. Here again, in time I learn to forgive, let go, then look at the good in him which outweighs the abusive behavior that he perpetrated on me.
Understanding these bible verses gave me the desire to forgive those who hurt, harm or damaged me.
Matthew 18:21-22
Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?" Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.
Colossians 3:13
Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
Luke 6:37
Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven
Matthew 6:14-16
For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.
Examination of my life- High School Years- part 7
Going into the ninth grade, leaving the elementary catholic school, where I went to for 8 years held enormous hope for me. I will be going to a new school with new people and leaving behind the classmates, who I felt were abusive to me, became a new beginning for me. I had already met a new potential friend the summer before going into the night grade, at a public picnic. She had introduce herself to me, then we exchange address information, after discovering that I will be a new student in her class in the fall of that year. We got to know each other, by exchanging letters with each other throughout the summer months. I was so excited and happy that finally I met a friend.
Making a friend cause me to gain confidence in myself. I became more outgoing and made other friends also. I even had a boyfriend. Other boys paid attention to me and would write notes to me during class time asking me to be their friend. But I took there little notes and threw them in the garbage, because with my new found confidence I had told myself "why do I need them, when I already had the boyfriend of my dreams. Little did I know that my new found confidence was moving me on the wrong path. Little did I know that the boyfriend I chose to be with was a creep, a loser and a trouble maker, and those other boys were of good stock. Then, my boyfriend,suddenly, became mean to me, by calling me names like stinky, he would make mean gestures to me and then laugh and tell jokes about me to his friends, then when we did spent time together he wanted to share me with his friends and pressure me for sex. I could not believe and was shocked how someone could change so much overnight. By the time I realized what a creep he was, it was too late to make friends with kids that were perceive to be OK or popular. I became known to be yucky and someone not to get close to. Therefore, I found myself in the same position as my elementary years, feeling miserable,lonely and sad with no self-esteem or self-respect for myself.
Examination of my life- High School Years- part 8
Feeling lonely, needing someone to be friends, wanting to feel like I belong somewhere I chose to be friends to whomever wanted to be my friend. It did not matter how popular or how unpopular they were, or how bad or how good their behavior were. If someone wanted to be friends with me, I automatically accepted them as friends, without thinking if they would be a good influence on me or not. (I lived this way for most of my adult life.) One constant friend in my life was the person that I met the summer before the 9th grade. fortunately she helped me to keep some kind of balance in my life, probably because she always accepted me, no matter what! She was not label as being YUCKY , but labeled as being that good girl. She was active in school activities, church, girls scouts, and playing musical instruments. Therefore her friendship helped me not to get involved with illegal risky behaviors, but it was an everyday battle to stay out of trouble and act like my life mattered. I had these other two friends who were in a grade lower than me. We spent lunch hour together, during that time we walk along the railroad tracks and talk about how nice it would be, to hop on a train to see where it will take us, thinking that life would be better, than the life we were living now. We talked about death, wondering what it would be like, if it will be better to be dead or to be alive. We had wonder when will we die and how will we die. We were three unhappy souls just trying to survive the life we were living and wanting some escape from feeling what we were feeling. Then I had these two other friends that lived on the wild side, they liked to go to drinking parties, and get involve with boys and sex. I never got involve with the drinking and sex but stood on the outside looking in, I always had an excuse that I could not get out of the house. This was true, living in the country as I did, made it difficult to sneak away and no one I knew who would pick me up had a driver's license. Although there was one time I was able to sneak away, by telling my dad I had some school activity to go, he then brought me to the school, where I met my friends, they took me to a drinking party. I was much too afraid to drink, the fear of getting caught outweigh the desire to drink.. The house, where the party was at, was filthy, beer cans thrown all over, and it smell like a brewery, the house did not look like it had been cleaned for months. When I made my way to the bathroom, I notice in the room across the hall was this little gray hair, frail, women rocking away in a old wooden rocking chair. I still can remember, thinking how strange, this was. Why is this old frail women sitting all alone, late at night, wrapped in a shawl in a room of this filthy, smelly loud house? The picture of this old frail women has been embedded in my memory bank as if it had happen just yesterday. Why is this? I do not know or understand why an old frail gray hair women would have an impact on me, like she did. Anyway while at the party something didn't feel right, maybe there were drugs there also, I don't know, all I knew I felt uncomfortable being there and finally when my ride was ready to take me back to the school house, I was so happy to leave that house. My ride was with this guy who my friend set me up to be with, he wanted to stop and make out. He stop the car for about 5 minutes and was able to steal a kiss from me but nothing more than that!. The next day my friend call me and wanted to do it again that night. My mom had answer the phone and had wonder who had called me. It was unusual for me to get any phone calls. I told mom it was a friend from school then mom wanted to know her name. I made up some lie about who she was as I knew she would disapprove of her, I heard numerous times from my mom how bad her family was. I did not go out that night as I knew it would be impossible for me to make it out. I never allowed myself to get sexual with any boys until I met my first husband and even then it was an year after we been dating before our relationship became sexual. As a little girl even before puberty, I would get this warm fuzzy feeling inside of me when I watched a romantic movie, I wanted the intimacy that I saw in the movies to happen to me. Not having sexual intercourse was not because I didn't want it, it was because of the fear of getting pregnant. I was totally aware of the good feelings I was feeling from being kissed and touched.
There was this other time when a boy who I liked, we had been boyfriend and girlfriend off and on throughout the 9th and 10th grade. The same creep, I wrote about in part 7, ask me to skip out of the afternoon classes at school with him, I agree to do\ so. Instead of having an excuse to leave the school grounds. I just walked off the school property without any permission from anybody. We spent about an hour making out in a car, somebody's car, I did not know who the car belonged to, he said, he knew the owner and the owner would not care if we sat in it. But anyway after an hour of making out he said it was time for him to return back to class. He told me he only had a excuse to be gone for an hour. I was drastically disappointed and confuse because I was under the impression that we were going to spend the whole afternoon together, work on our relationship, even though we had little to go on, I then would catch the school bus back home. At first, I did not know what to do, I had about 3 hours left,before catching the school bus home. Suddenly it occur to me, I will call my parents from a payphone down town and tell them that I was in pain. This I thought was a good idea, since lately, I had been complaining about having side aches to my parents. I then called and talked to my mom; mom agree to have dad come and get me. I, then walk back to the school and waited for my dad. Once my dad arrive at the school, he told me that those side-aches has been going on much too long, there was no circumstances that was going to stop him from taking me to the doctor immediately. So off to the doctor I went. At the doctor's office I acted like I was in discomfort at that very moment, I then told him, I would get pain like that of and on for some time. I can't remember what the doctor diagnosis me with or what kind of medicine he prescribed but I walk out of the office with medication and a doctor's note, excusing me from physical education at school. I felt amazed how I had pulled that one off, fooling my dad and a doctor. My next worry was how am I going to get back into school without them questioning me why I left the school grounds without telling them anything. I know, I thought to myself, I have my medication and a doctor's excuse to relieve me from physical ed, to back my story up, I'll just tell them that when I have so much pain, I don't know what I am doing, or suppose to be doing, I wanted some relief from my pain so I only called my parents to come and get me, they took me to the doctor and here is the medication and doctor's excuse to relieve me from physical education. Wow! I got out of that one also! I can't believe it, and I also don't have to go to phy. ed classes, what a charm that was. The only sad part was I was so disappointed that I didn't had more quality time with that boy, he had convinced me to skip school by giving me his ring. The little time I did spend with him was all about getting into my pants. He told me he did it with other girls and that he would take his ring back if I did not let him get into my pants. I finally allow him to kiss and only touch me, I did not allow him to have sexual intercourse with me, I explain to him, I did not want to get pregnant like my sister did, so he took his ring back. Now instead of going to phy ed class, I will now go to study hall, once there, I realize he was in study hall too. He knew I had phy ed, at that time, I remember thinking, I wonder if he even cares that I came to study hall and why was I there. Will he talk to me after study hall was over? No he didn't, he pretended, I didn't exist, this caused me to feel so lonely and sad.
When I was at home when I wasn't watching my baby sisters or being call for work duty by my mom I pretty much try to stay out of the way of my brothers and sister, by spending time alone, by myself, laying on my bed, listening to the radio and daydreaming about the perfect life I will have if and when I would ever get married. Meaning that I could not believe that anybody would ever want me, for a life time. One reason for feeling this way was because I never felt competent or smart enough. I remember when the adviser of the school paper ask me to do the art work on the paper, I proudly accepted his offer and quickly went to work, designing the cover for the school paper, after completing the cover, I took it to one of the staff members of the paper and told her that the adviser ask me to do the art work, this staff member was also a former classmate from when I went to the catholic grade school, her response was; “Oh! Don't worry about it, I or somebody else will do the art work. This cause me to feel incapable of being responsible for anything. I had been feeling so proud and happy that the adviser had put his faith in me, but then to only have it quickly snatched away. I had originally thought if the adviser saw something in me, then perhaps the rest of the staff on the paper would also, but that was not to be. This was just another incident to add to the long lists of incidents to prove that my life was nothing. Again I did not know how to stand up for myself or knew anybody who I could trust to talk it over with, because I was afraid they may see the truth and leave me also. I quietly left the paper and went off my way as if nothing had happened.
Examination of my life- High School Years Being Bullied- part 9
I develop acute anxiety throughout my high school years. I would perspired profusely under my arms and develop chronic bad breath. My classmates called me stinky and some would press themselves up against the hallway walls to prevent touching me, if they saw me coming down the hall. Some would even pass my germs to the next person if they accidentally touch me. In between classes I went into the bathroom to wash my armpits every chance I got. (This actually was a lost cause because the more I washed myself the more I perspired. In other words the more I tried to control it the more out of control it became) I would make sure that the bathroom was empty before I proceed to wash my armpits. I was feeling ashamed and did not want anybody to see what I was doing. Then I would spray perfume all over my body attempting to mask whatever body odor was left from washing. The problem with this, is without knowing how much perfume to put on, I would put too much on, thinking more the better it was. But only to hear a classmate say “Oh the mixture of sweat and perfume is just horrid! I felt hopeless and helpless. If I could of carry a tooth brush, tooth paste and mouth wash with me everyday to school I probably would have, but I was unable to do this as there one available for me to take, plus there was not enough time to complete both tasks. One day in Science class a classmate ask the teacher why people perspired and why does it smell so bad! This classmate sat right next to me in class, therefore I just knew that she had to be talking about me. She also was waving her hand in front of her face as to wave the odor away. I sat at my desk just wishing I could fade away into the woodwork, while at the same time feeling the sweat dripping from my armpit, which show wet marks on my blouse. Holding my arms tight to my body, attempting to hide the wet marks and thinking “why can't I be like everybody else, why do I have to be so different and why don't I have the courage to speak up?
Courage to speak up was cause from having a speech problem. I had been told that I spoke like a retarded person and had been ask if I was retarded. I thought that every inch of me from inside and out was all wrong. I reminded myself of the misfit toys on Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.
I felt uncomfortable during Physical Education classes. There was no individual stalls to take a shower we all had to stand together in one big shower stall to wash off after class. Therefore everybody got to know what each body looked like and my body never met expectations, I had lots of dark hair on my legs. It was made known to me that my legs were like a forest. Coming from a large family, with not a lot of money, we did not always had the proper grooming items as most families would have. We did not have tooth brushes, paste or shaving products. Whenever any of these products did exist, they were shared among us kids. I used the same tooth brush as my other brothers and sisters used and instead of tooth paste we used soda to clean our teeth. For bath we used dish soap instead of bath soap, and then because hot water wasn't plentiful, we shared the same bath water among each other. Sometimes we would need to boil water on the stove when hot water ran out. If I did had any special items like perfume or makeup it was something I earned by making money from babysitting, or it was given to me as a gift. One day in Physical Education class I needed help to button up the middle buttons of my blouse after taking a shower. (Back then it was fashionable to have buttons in the back instead of the front.) I ask a classmate to help me, she would not because she said she could not stand how I smelled. This was confusing to me as I had just took a shower. Luckily there was another classmate that heard this and volunteer to help. As she was buttoning the buttons she whispered in my ear, “Don't worry she doesn't smell like a rose herself.” All I could say was “Thank You!” in a embarrassing, timid tone of voice. I am sure that my face was a bright red from the embarrassment.
Being that my father was a farmer, he had separate clothing that he wore to the barn and was washed only periodically, they were kept by the kitchen outside door. My Dad would put them on there so he would not, track through the house with those yucking manure full clothing. Then in the bathroom just off from the kitchen area sat the diaper pail with dirty sticky diapers. They were washed on a daily basis but because there was nothing to put into the diaper pail for deodorizing, the bathroom smell of strong urine. Sometimes there were two of my brothers and sisters in diapers at the same time. Therefore that diaper pail would be overfilled with soil diapers. Between the diapers and my dad's clothing, the kitchen and bathroom area did not have a pleasant odor. My thinking was, this could be the reason why I had a problem with body odor. I did not make a point to talk to my mom about being bullied because, that one time when I tried, she said, “Oh, Jane they are only doing those things because they are teasing you and this means they like you!” Today, I am unsure if my mom misunderstood what I was trying to tell her, or if she did not want to be bothered with it, or if she didn't want to see the reality about it all. What I did believe, at that time was, my mom didn't care, so therefore, from then on, I kept my complaints, worries and feelings of how I was being bullied to myself, I bottle it up, stuffed it deep inside of myself. I then, develop even a greater and deeper belief of, “I am nothing”, “I am worthless”, I could not understand my purpose for being born, especially when nobody liked or loved me. The only thing kept me going was the faith that God had something special for me in store when I die. From my religious teachings I was told that anybody that was persecuted for who they were, will have a godly reward in heaven with God. Whenever I felt suicidal or giving up, this was the one belief, that kept me from doing harm to myself. It was not until later in my adulthood after seeking therapy, I learned that anxiety was the cause for my perspiration, and bad breath, I also realized that the more I tried to controlled the perspiration the more out of control it became, the anxiety, the worries, the shame about my body odor cause the anxiety to re- manifested itself.
Examination of my life- High School Years- part 10
One day when I was in the 10th grade, I was sitting in the library during study hall, this boy walk past my table. I saw his girlfriend's class ring on his finger. I silently said to myself someday he will have my class ring on his finger. This guy was dating my sister's friend. On Friday's during Phy Ed classes it would be a mix class with guys and girls. Often the Phy Ed teachers would have us sit boy, girl, boy, girl etc. on the bleachers and teach us about healthy relationships. I hated this because no boy would want to sit by me because of how I smelled, they would grumble, whine and complain and then make mean, put down statements about me, then laugh as if they thought it was cool, little did they know how it would affect my life. But then this one particular Friday, it was dance time. The girls were line up on one side of the gym and the boys on the other side of gym. Sometimes the boys would have to choose a person to dance with and sometimes the girl would have to choose. I dislike the choosing, more than the not choosing, at least when I did not have to do the asking, then I would not had to cope with some smart remark from the boy that I ask, at least when the boy did the asking and I didn't get picked, it did not hurt as bad. Anyway on this particular Friday the guy I saw in the library had ask me to dance. I was surprised and shock that he had ask me! But yet happy that he did. I felt warm and fuzzy while we danced. We also shared a nice conversation, even though I was shy and a little clumsy in my talking. This for sure made my day! The next time we met up was on my sister's graduation party, by this time he had broken up with his girlfriend. I had just completed the 10th grade and was 15th at the time. While at the party he decided to sit by me, we talk and talk and before he left to go home, he kissed me. Now! This was exciting for me, because he was not a person that was in the yucky group at school, neither was he in the popular group but was in the OK group. He was well liked by all. I was happy but could not understand why he would want to spend the night talking to me and even wanted to kiss me? What a nice mystery that was for me. A week later he show up at my house unannounced. He said Hi to me when he first came into the house, I then took the backseat, a matter of speaking because my sister was all over him talking, and flirting hoping that he would ask her to go out and do something together. She told me, she hope he would take her someplace as she was bored and wanted to have some fun. But to her surprise and as well as mine, he came to me and ask if I wanted to go for a drive. Wow! I thought to myself and remembering how it felt when he had kiss me the week before. I went to my mom and ask her if we could go for a drive. I was even more surprised when mom said yes, because I was not allow to date until I was 16, all she said was,be sure you are home by 11. So off I went with him acting shy and timid with not knowing how to act and not wanting to say the wrong thing. First he drove to his friend's house who live only up the road from where I live. I sat in the car while he got out and talk to his friend along the side of the car. Oh yeh! Did I mention that he also had a really cool car! A 65 mustang, he told me he had just purchase it that very same day, and wanted to show it to his friend, after that he took me to his parents and introduce me to them. In the mean time I could not help thinking to myself, why on earth would he take me to his parents home. Weeks later he told me that he did so because he wanted his parents to know who he wanted to date so that they could see what kind of person I was and if they would approve. He also told me that he was well aware that my sister wanted him to take her out, but that he was not interested in her, he was interested in getting to know me better. I did wonder why me and not her because she was much more popular and well like at school, she had many friends and boys that wanted to date her. We dated throughout that summer and
throughout the rest of my school years. He gave me a diamond engagement ring a few months before graduation day of high school. We were married as soon as I turned 18..
To be continued........
