Friday, May 22, 2009

The teenage years, part 8

and by soon, I mean immediately after, but I decided to post date the entry. it also seems oddly appropriate to post this on his birthday.

It's better this way. This way, ya'll get a break, and I can get this part of my life out onto the blog without having to break momentum. Lord only knows when I'll be able to pick up the threads.

So yea, by then, I wanted to die. I told my mother as much and she told me to stop being over dramatic. I showed her the empty pill bottle, she told me that I shouldn't waste good medication.
And things with my step father, well they didn't get any better. He said something nasty to me, and I'd respond in kind. This time I was quick enough to get into the bathroom, the only door with a lock. He proceeded to try and break it down. The door flexed but held against his considerable weight. My brother intervened before the door could break.

They'd never really taken a lot of interest in me, but I was so grateful that he saved me. I don't know if I would have survived that attack.

And Shana starts to sob. IRL here, I am crying. I just remember how badly I wanted to die. How much hate and fear I felt. How truly alone I was, because no one seemed to care. Except my brother in that one moment that he pulled my stepfather off the door.

I remember it was around this time that my mother got my ears pierced a second time. I was around 15 or so, and she picked me up from school. It took me a moment to realize that she was drunk, and that was why she was taking an interest in me. We shopped a bit, got some dinner and put an extra pair of holes in my ears.

At dinner she asked me what she should do. she wanted to me to tell her if she should leave my stepfather. I told her that she needed to get her head out of her butt, and realize she wasn't doing anyone any favors by trying to put them first. She told me that she didn't want to marry him (and I recall that, she disappeared after the wedding and got drunk on her own. I had to track her down and get her back to bed). She said she only married him because she wanted us to be happy.

We've never talked about this incident, but it added to the list of things I felt that I did to ruin other people's lives.

There's one final round of encounters that I want to write about here before I sign off due to not being able to see the screen.

By this point I was going to a new high school and I had to take the bus there. A friend had a car (the same boy I named my first sort of boyfriend) and some mornings he'd pick us up. Days like that he'd call. Now, knowing that everyone else in my house was sleeping at 7 am, I'd make sure I had the phone with me, so it wouldn't even ring half a ring before I'd pick it up.

I guess even that was too much for him. Each morning he'd get up and yell at me, and then he'd yell at me when I got home too, but I guess this morning was different. This was the morning where I ran from the house sobbing and crying. What happened after that was my friend brought me home after school.

I'm pretty sure everyone was still with us, almost expecting there to be a blow out. All I know is that my friends didn't think it was a good idea for me to stay at home that weekend.

Apparently neither did my mother. She was waiting for me at the door. She told me to pack a bag and go wherever. She knew my one friend had an apartment, though she was often against me going there over night. But this time, she was telling me that I had to get out, now. She stood watch in the door way, prepared to keep him away from me.

She told me that he planned to kill me. That he'd been drinking all day, and was prepared to murder me and go to jail. I guess he'd been talking to his stupid fucking dog about how he wasn't going to see him ever again because he was going to put the little princess six feet under. That there wasn't going to be much of me left by the time he was done with me. That I'd finally get what was coming to me.

Shit. The waterworks are back. This is just... a little emotional for me.

Anyhow... that was the last major encounter. After that, I mostly backed down, and embraced being invisible. I mainly stayed away from the house whenever possible. I figure, when a man wants you dead, and your mother is still prepared to stick by him... even if she did give me a heads up before he could do it.... well, it's just not very welcoming.

and yea, I'm not doing so hot, so I'm going to pause for now.

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