My Journey Back From Hell

The hardest part is figuring out where to start. I live in the now. I have learned that’s where I must focus my time and energy. However, I also know my past shaped me. Some ways were good, but many were not. I am a couple months away from my 40th Birthday. I started this journey of self awareness at about 16. I didn’t necessarily realize it at the time. I can see the baby steps I was taking when looking back. Growing up, I didn’t think my life was really all that different than anyone else’s. Yes, I had some friends that had a much better life than me. I also had many that had it much worse. What I saw as much better back then was of those friends that didn’t ever have the financial worries. What I saw as much worse was pretty heavy physical abuse. (Now I know, both of those ideals were very naive.) I felt lucky. My teenage years were rough. I acknowledge that I likely didn’t make them easy for my parents either. I was the youngest of 3 kids and the only girl. My brothers were pretty rebellious. The oldest Scotty was the most rebellious. He was 6 years older than me. My parents were 19 when they had him. Jason was the middle child. He was 4 years younger than Scotty. Then I came along 1 year and 5 months later. I honestly don’t know if any of us were planned. I don’t think any of us were. I couldn’t tell you that answer though as I don’t remember that ever being discussed. What I do know is that my mom told me that she cried for days when she found out she was pregnant with me. She said she just went in for her check up after having Jay and they told her she was pregnant. She cried and her sister tried to console her and said it will be okay, babies sleep a lot. Then I was born and she said I didn’t sleep a lot. That story is the earliest I can go back in my personal life stories. It was the beginning of my life story. A mom that was devastated to find out about my existence and my entrance into the world didn’t ease those burdens on her. The next 4-6 years I only remember bits and pieces. I remember our home. It was an “L” shaped house. My parents, my brother Jason, and my bedrooms on one end and my brother Scott and my uncle on the other. There was a living/family room on each end. We had an Atari and did eventually get the Nintendo which was in the back family room. The cold part of the house. I hated the cold part of the house. I remember being back there playing games with no issues. The two bedrooms in the back scared me. It was so cold and so dark back there. It is these little details that stuck out in my mind all these years that I would remember over and over again not knowing why. I feel like I forgot so much. Why did I remember silly little things like that? I remember that I always wanted to be with my brothers. My brother Jason was a consistent in all of my memories. He played the biggest role in my life, and arguably still does to this day. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always great memories. He was an older brother after all. He could be an ass if he really wanted to, and there were many times he was. He was also my protector for the majority of my life….and sometimes I think I was his. I have four memories that have consistently stuck out in my mind with my brothers and myself while we lived in that house. I couldn’t tell you which order they went in, but they are memories nonetheless. The first is I was chasing Jason and his friends and he was of course not wanting little sister to tag along. As we rounded the corner of the house he reached down and pulled back the clay pigeon shooter and let her rip…..right into my kneecap. Thankfully, as far as I know nothing was too messed up. Going into the doctor back then was not something you did right away. It had to be severe. The next was again me chasing Jason and his friends and them trying to get rid of me. This time, they didn’t do anything to me intentionally. They simply ran between some bushes where I followed. Unfortunately, there happened to be a wasps nest in there and they made them mad just in time for me to run through. Sometime after that we found out Jason was highly allergic to wasps. In hindsight I have learned, I will take that as a win that I was the one who got attacked by them. God, my angels, our soul paths, whatever you believe in, knew that I needed him to get through my journey. At least for a bit longer.