Where does Trauma start?............Where does it end?

I came into this world after a 28 hour labor forceps assisted posterior birth……Healthy baby until they cut the umbilical cord and I broke out in hives. It appeared that I was allergic to my Mother! As it came to be I just reacted to the high concentration of hormones in the placenta.

Growing up was no fun. I had an alcoholic Father who was physically, mentally and emotionally abusive.

I remember getting backhanded across the garage floor because I hit my sister……Various spankings……Locked in a closet for hours……Beatings with a belt…..many times utilizing the buckle.

Then there were the simple things. Trimming the grass around the rock garden with a pair of nail scissors because my first attempt didn’t reach his expectations…..Refilling a hole that I had dug while playing with a baby spoon…….Grades that were never good enough even though I was a good student……Being forced to wipe myself until I bled because I had “skidmarks” in my underwear. The ruined Holidays because Dad was drunk. Staying away from home for the same reasons….and God Forbid! That I’d ever bring friends over! And my Mom and her sunglasses! Every now and then she would wear sunglasses for a week at a time! Guess what Mom? I saw the blackeyes.

We made the usual(?) trips to the Emergency Room for childhood accidents…..Cuts…..Broken collar bone….None of which I remember. But one incident sticks in my mind. The Family went with Dad to the local golf course so Dad could hit a bucket of balls on the driving range. Being children my sister (8) and myself (5) became bored and started exploring. From across the way we could see horses on a farm across the highway. My sister and I walked over to the security chain link fence (barbs turned up) to get a better look. Sister decided she couldn’t see and started climbing the fence. I couldn’t see either but I had been warned not to climb fences because I had to wear round toed shoes. I climbed any ways….All the way to the top just to see the horses. I slipped and fell with one of the security barbs impaling the underside of my right arm and the flesh just ripping until the sleeve of my shirt was caught and held me there. Mom runs over quickly…….Dad shortly later. Dad reaches up and gets me off the fence. His first words…..”I told you not to climb that fence!” He wraps up my arm with a handkerchief and heads toward the car……Constantly bitching. Getting me to the car he puts me in the backseat while my Mom and sister get in. Then he goes and retrieves his golfbag……Tossing it in the trunk I hear him complain about the waste of money for two buckets of balls…..Something he repeated a few times throughout that night. At the Emergency Room they stitched me up and sent me home.

When I was 11 my Mother decided that enough was enough and filed for divorce but Dad did have his last say with me. Some stupid incident…..I think my sister figured out I was reading her diary and she told Mom who then told Dad when he got home from work. Grabbing me by the shirt collar he drags me down the hall to my parents bedroom. Throwing me down on the bed he yells at me to take my pants off. Okay…..Here we go again……Dad grabs one of his wide belts…..Wrapping the end around his hand I see nothing but buckle……Funny…..No tears this time…….After the tenth swat I roll over and looked at him and say “Are you through yet?” I get dressed and go to my room.

Living in a single parent household is not easy……For anyone involved! But I’m proud of my Mother and what she did. She kept her family in the town they grew up in……Quite often working 3 jobs to do so. Oh I remember giving her shit about her lovers and the distress I caused her with what little trouble I got in. (Very little……I seldom got caught). But I also remember when she got real sick. Tended by a friend of hers (Who chased me out of the house!) she was rushed to the hospital for an emergency hysterectomy. Things were touch and go and I was so scared at the thought of losing my Mother! She recovered…..a lil slow but she recovered. And to this day and beyond I will never mention to her the receipt I found years later in an old purse she was donating to charity…….Cleveland Women’s Clinic….$335……Dated the weekend before she had the hysterectomy.

My teenage years were typical. Doing my best to keep my elders from finding out what I was up to. I was a fair student. I can look back and honestly say that the Report Card comments were 100% correct…..I never applied myself. Well…..Maybe not to my studies…….I did run a Football pool on the schools time share computer……..Worked a part time job (or two) and arranged my school schedule around that. I also dealt weed. (Small time). Good money and my Family needed that.

By the time I reached 17 things had changed a bit. My sister was on her own and I was living with Mom and the man who would eventually be my step father. No big deal. I liked this guy and at 17 I was not going to stand in the way of whatever made my Mom happy. I come back from a 3 week summer trip……Mom is remarried…..I have a step dad and we are moving to Kentucky! (Kentucky? WTF?)

I spend the next week gathering school records…..Quitting jobs……Finalizing business arrangements (Buy from these 3 guys…..sell ¾ to these guys and the rest is yours. You won’t get rich but you will make money)…….and trying to get in touch with my girlfriend/lover…..with no success …….

Kentucky was pure culture shock. Sharing a one bedroom apartment with my step father (Mom couldn’t move down until October)…..People who sure as hell didn’t speak MY English…..And a school system lost in the Dark Ages! I lost 1/3 of my credits because I took the classes as a Freshmen where this school regarded them as “upper level” classes. I ended up taking two classes that were repeats from my Freshman year……Same damn textbook! I was hoping to continue some of the “upper-level” classes I had started in Illinois……Only to find that the courses they called “upper-level” were, at best, Intermediate courses in the school system I was used to. I even tried to sign up for German Language. I figured that a 3rd year would balance out nicely the two dialects I had already learned…..Only to find out that German has not been offered since the War. I had to ask….”Are you people still fighting the Nazi’s?”……Her answer….”Oh no! We haven’t offered German Language since 1917!” (There are still neighborhoods in Covington, KY where German is the predominant language). I ended signing up for whatever classes it would take to graduate. My busiest high school year ever…….With that I had little hope for an academic future at KY State Schools.

In October we were finally able to move my Mother down to join us. A whirlwind weekend trip of packing boxes, loading a U-Haul truck and trying to get in touch with my girlfriend/lover. Finally! She answers the phone herself. I expected a warmer greeting after 2 months but…….We talk and I agree to come over at 8 that night. I drive over and go up to her family’s condo. We have the place alone. She looks like she has gained a little weight. I try to embrace her but she pushes me away and says “We need to talk”…..Oh Shit! What am in for now? “I’m pregnant!” (No shit!) “But its not yours. After you left for Colorado I started seeing Jesse (one of my best friends) and we ****ed……It’s his I just know it and we are going to get married” ~small sigh of relief~ I give her a big hug and kiss on the cheek……Wishing her the best……I walk out and go home