You see I had to " earn my keep " it was her favorite saying after '' I should have killed you the day you were born'' My mother had emotional problems. Mainly she was a childish, selfish ,vicious bitch who liked hitting her little girl when she had a bad day. She had lots of bad days. It was so regular my brother's friends used to pay him so they could watch .She loved an audience so when he did that the beatings were worse. I don't blame him he was just a kid but what kind of woman likes to have kids watch her beat a little girl. Her favorite thing was to beat me to the ground and stand with her foot on my head forcing my face into the ground or floor or whatever while she screamed at me.. My jaw is a little misshapen and I believe it may have been caused by this practice of hers.
Anyway the summer I was six she sent me to N.Y. to work for my aunt. I am amazed now at how they all went along with it. I mean they didn't beat me but they used me like a slave and had no problem doing it. Well my mom didn't just hit , she loved to play mind games with me as well.
Back in 67 you could put a kid on a plane with a note to tell them someone was picking them up and that was that. She leaned down as she was pushing me out onto the tarmac and told me , if they decide they don't want you and don't show up you'll have to make your own way. She said maybe now I would learn how to behave. What I didn't know at the time was that she had told them I would be there three hours later than when I would arrive. She wanted me to think I would be left there alone with no one to come for me. Like I said my mom had problems and she felt I needed to be punished for my transgression.
The flight wasn't bad , back then people could smoke on planes and since I had smoked on and off since I was about two I had learned to gather long cigarette ends and put them in my pockets. Matches were easy , they were everywhere.
My childhood was strange , they thought it was funny that I smoked and drank at an early age. Maybe not having any authority as a child made it difficult for me to accept as an adult. That is my brother Steve on the left and my cousin Rick on the right. Rick is Vickie's brother. We had lots of cousins.
I guess the stewardess felt sorry for me because she gave me two little bottles of scotch to play with. It was the sixties , things were different. When I got there of course there was no one there to meet me so I started to recon. Do you realize how many times people drop coins and if they roll under something they usually leave them? I gathered enough change to get a ginger ale and bag of fritos. Now scotch and ginger ale wasn't really all that bad from what I can recall. At least I caught a buzz and I had cigarettes and magazines that were laying around. I had already scoped out the bathroom and there were couches in there so I knew I could sleep in there without having to worry about men who shouldn't have been messing with little girls. I was already skilled at avoiding men , my mother had put me in enough situations for me to know what men wanted from me. I was as settled as I was going to get and don't recall really being scared but I must have been , right?
I was completely surprised when my aunt showed up to get me. By then I was resigned to the fact that I wasn't wanted and would have to make my own way. I have no idea what I would have done but we do what we have to in order to survive. Children are like animals , they can adapt when they have to.
I spent that summer washing dishes and light cleaning while my aunt worked and her kids were at camp, but the thing I hated most was doing the laundry. See my aunt lived in a big building and I had never been in one before much less the basement of one. That's where the laundry room was. At first it was all right since there were chairs I could climb onto in order to reach everything but before long I noticed this older man was watching me. He tried to talk to me once but I ran away and did my best to avoid him from then on. He terrified me because he was always watching me but made no moves toward me beyond the first attempt. it was years later before I realized he didn't want to hurt me , he was worried about me. You see back then you didn't say anything to anyone about what they did to their kids. That's how my mom got away with it. Today her ass would have gone to prison. That man did all he could back then , he kept an eye on me and who know what might have happened if he hadn't? I am grateful to him and have always felt bad I misread his intentions.
I try my best now not to automatically think the worst of people just because I have seen it. Not everyone is evil and that is one thing my mother was unable to do to me. My brother used to say just cry when she hits you and it won't be as bad. I wouldn't give that amazon bitch the power over me of making me cry.
One of my earliest memories of her was her climbing in the bed after beating me and throwing me there, she held me and told me she was sorry. It was the only time she ever did that and I think it was because it was the first time she drew blood and it scared her. She got over it.
Anyway some good came of that summer , I learned how to make brownies. I could cook simple things , I had been doing it for me and my brother for as long as I could remember and I knew he would love me being able to make him brownies now. Mom ate at work so she didn't worry too much about us getting fed.
This looks liked a staged pic but it was more real than most people knew. Basically if we wanted to eat I had to fix it. It worked out though , I'm a pretty good cook.
At least my aunt in N.Y. wasn't crazy , the next summer I went to Cincinnati to my crazy aunt and the summer after that and the next. I was kind of like the new kid in school every year because when all the other kids played together and got to know each other in the summer I was gone. I have problems trusting people and don't make friends easily. I have been unfortunate in that department and am what is called a loner. If I thought it meant no one could hurt me anymore I was wrong because the real , long term damage , we do that to ourselves. I'm pretty good at punishing myself but I'm learning it doesn't have to be that way and you can always live happily ever after , right?
Oh yeah by the way the transgression my mother felt I needed to be punished for, I had cried and told her I didn't want to go to N.Y. and that made her feel bad. It's the abuser's mantra isn't it. '' Why do you make me do these thing to you?'' Fuck her I survived. Sometimes I think that's all I did but at least I did that.
Now putting this one away is a relief. You can't talk to people about this shit because most think your full of it and looking for sympathy. I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me , I hate that but it would be nice one time if someone just listened and didn't pass judgement. Maybe they could understand me a little better but I don't ever share anything with anyone. The more people know about you the more damage they can do. I'm damaged enough , I don't need any more.
Thanks for listening and please believe me I don't mean to be a buzz kill, I just want to get rid of this little scenario in my life and writing in this blog has really helped. I'm trying to heal my life. Wish me luck...
Cheers , Amelie
