I've been thinking of writing an autobiography or memoir but it just never comes together for me but I figured if I write one story at a time and post it on my blog maybe once a month, I can do that. Maybe one day I'll pull all the stories together and put them in a book but for now I'll just share some stories with you about my childhood. Some of the stories will be happy, some sad and some horrific because that was my childhood. But they will all be real, things that actually happened. If it seems like something that people enjoy reading maybe I'll keep it going. These stories will not be in any kind of order, I'll just write them as they come to me.
Christmas with my dad and step mother in 1988.
Late in 1988 I went to live with my dad and step mother for a few months. I was 18 years old and had just left one of the mental hospitals that I had been in for a couple of months (That's for another story) and my dad asked me to come stay with him for a little while. I think he thought that he could help me and he felt bad that I had ended up there in the first place. My step mother however, did not like me and didn't want me there and she never stopped letting me know it.
It was almost Christmas and my dad asked me what I wanted so I told him that I really liked one of the purple sweaters that my step mother, Catherine had. I was trying to make nice and said she looked really nice in it and would like something like that. I tried to be nice to her but she was a nasty woman and still is. I didn't know it at the time but both she and my dad were doing speed (Amphetamines) and that really changed their personalities a lot. On top of that they both drank.
For Christmas, my dad did indeed buy me a crocheted, purple sweater and I really liked it. I bought my step mother a horse statue because she liked horses. I was trying to be nice. My dad got a box of sausage, cheese and crackers since that was his favorite thing in the world. A few days later my step mother "accidentally" dropped the horse statue I bought her and it broke. I actually think she did it on purpose so she wouldn't have to keep it. A few days later I put my sweater on again and this time it had 2 cuts in it and the yarn started to unravel really quickly. It had been crocheted and I had no idea how to fix it. I showed my dad who showed my step mother who said she could fix it. But all she ended up doing was unraveling it further to the point that all I could do was throw it away. I can't prove she did it but I had worn it a couple of times and it was fine when I put it in the closet. That woman has always been very malicious and spiteful. She still is.
Links to other stories:
