This is a 100% true story of my Life. This and the episodes that follow will lead the world through the abuse I have endured. This is my personal story of struggle and triumph. If you are weak, or faint of heart, please avoid this story. I will publish one chapter each time the previous chapter hits 2000 hits.
In the Beginning
I was born in 1972. My parents were not ready to be parents and so I was forsaken early on. My life was not easy, but through it all I have fought and become stronger because of it. Where a weaker man would have fallen I have risen to new heights. For every stumbling block that life has thrown in my way, I have leapt to greater feats. This is my life and my story.
My earliest memory was of suddenly hitting a wall. I don’t remember how I got here, or where I am at the moment, but the pain is unbearable.
I am about 5 years old, I am lying on the ground, my nose is bleeding, and now I see my mother running towards me. I thought for a minute she was coming to save me, but instead as she reaches me she begins kicking me instead.
It turns out my mother had snatched me from my bed, while I was asleep, and thrown me into a wall. Later in life she will explain that she heard me “talking about her” while she was asleep. It turns out my mother is a schizophrenic caused by years of psychological and drug abuse. After what seems like an eternity of pain as I am brutally beaten, I am thrown out of the house, in my underwear, in the middle of the night and the door locked behind me.
I can remember the fear as I banged on the door begging my mother to let me back inside. The whole time my mother was inside calling the police and reporting me, a 5 year old child, had attacked her and she had locked me out in self defense. The police finally arrived and escorted me to the hospital where I am committed for a 72 hour observation.
I am alone in a room, nothing in here but a single bed, white walls, and a florescent light. The next morning I am awakened early for breakfast and showers, then returned to my room. Alone again in that cold, brightly lit, white room with nothing to do but think and wonder what I had done to my mother for her to hit me like that.
I remember feeling like the worst son on earth and convincing myself that I had actually done what my mother had said I had. How could I be so mean to such a good mother?
Some time later I was interviewed by a clinical social worker, the first of many over my lifetime. During the interview, which was a cold, detached process, I felt even further abused and forsaken. This person actually believed the whole lie. I was thought to be a monster at 5? Years later I was told that that social worker had actually written a report that said my mother was mentally ill and I should not be returned to her custody. This would be the first of many such reports that would go un-heeded.
After a long 72 hours of isolation and interviews, I was placed into “voluntary placement” which simply meant my mother had agreed I should be placed outside the home into a group facility. This was a home for boys in Arizona. It was the first time in my life I had been away from my mother and I was very saddened. I spent the better part of my life missing a mother who would never love me. This was just the first time I had to endure being away from her.
Next Chapter: Forsaken hole becomes my rope to sanity. (When this chapter hits 2000 hits!)