Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Pig Tales- Stories of a Fat Girl and the Struggles Within- Beginnings pt 2


You may read part 1  HERE.
  
  this and other posts are not meant to be disrespectful to my mother, it is simply my life.
  I have a few good memories of my mother. At one time she had a sense of humor, a smile, she told jokes... usually highly inappropriate.  She danced, and  danced well. I remember her teaching neighbors how to jitterbug. She especially like to move to "White Lightning" by Jerry Lee Lewis.
I don't know when her love for things, for happiness or at least the quest for it ended. One bad choice to many just sucks the life out of you I guess.

She thought a man would help, divorced from my dad with  a 4 year old, she somehow thought that would fix things. Poor choices led her to that spot and poor choices again effected both our lives.
Some guy was always around, none stayed for long, at least before Bob. Many of those men just happened to be someone's husband. We woke up to the neighbor's glass on the screen door breaking, a woman had thrust her fist through it, we didn't go out to see what was going on until the woman left, you see, her fist was meant for our door.
Less violent was the morning #1 Bitch was written across our living room window in blue crayon. I think I was 7.
Between the years of 4 and 9 I remember a few of the men,
the candy man- he always left a box of Starbursts and some chocolate
the guy who sang
the guy who gave us carpet

and Carl
he lived a couple hours away and mom never drove in fact I have never seen my mother drive. We took weekly train trips to spend the weekend at his house. He was nice enough but he too drank. A lot.
His house was cold, the waterbed I slept in was colder.
He was always remodeling.....nothing changed. Just a piece of plastic hung between the living room and the new addition. Uninsulated...without electricity or heat it just allowed more of that damn cold air in.
It was a small farm and he had goats and a couple horses. One of the goats was due to have babies, I awoke and went in their room, he asked me to go check and see if the babies were there. HE was hungover, SHE was hungover.
Bundled up trodding through snow, I set out to the barn. It was sunny but I could see my breath.

Two small white baby goats lay together, frozen solid to the ground.
The momma bellowing near by.
Tears fell to the ground...the frozen ground  where there was barely any hay, no heater and no blankets.
That isn't even my worst memory of that cold farm.
Drunks shouldn't drive, children shouldn't be in the car, stuck in snowbanks. No one should walk blindly in a blizzard not properly dressed and I cannot recommend spending 8 hours in a bar eating potato chips and pop.

Carl, like the rest of those men, came and went. Little discretion was shown one could say the model for teen age promiscuity was set here.
Mom did settle with someone, she has been with him for years, I don't like him and never did. I wish I could tell you she was happy and that she found contentment.
They live about 3 states away, I nor my children have seen my mother in over 11 years. We speak occasionally and that is sufficient. I am not cold I am protected.


I once read a quote, I cannot find it exactly now but it is, I believe, from the book Malignant Self  Love, it was something to this effect.
having a narcissist for a mother is a bit like having a 6 year old who has a doll for your mother.  The point  being made is that a 6 year old doesn't really think outside of themselves. The doll is for them...for show....for their needs. Just a doll, a doll to be dropped on the floor and trampled over when it is no longer needed, or when something better comes along.  When I first read that I was moved to tears, not because it hurt as much as it validated what I had always thought. Hurt was real, rejection was real.
I have much more to tell you but let me tell you this first. I am well.  I have been married for 23 years and have two fantastic children that I love dearly. Our house is normal, whatever that means. God is continually healing me and he is the only one who can.
I am a little girl that needed a better mommy
a mommy that is trying the best she can
a daughter who is healing
 a wife who is faithful
a sinner saved by grace


blessings and thanks for visiting

6 comments:

said...

You are an excellent writer, your story touched my heart. I grew up in very similar circumstances, and saw much too much before I was old enough to comprehend what was happening. And yes, I'm an overweight middle-aged woman now, but the child within is so very close to the surface even yet.

Your story is so true, so real. So terrifying for the little girl you were to have to live through. I'm so glad to hear you were able to rise above the pain and recreate a life for yourself of 'normalcy' (as you said, whatever 'normal' is, lol) and kindness and love for your own children. I do believe we learn kindness from the unkind people in our lives. I knew I did not want to repeat what had been done to me, either.

said...

It's difficult to respond as you do not know me, but your story is so heart-breaking. I don't know what to say, but I am feeling a lot of compassion and hope for you and your family. May you continue to be blessed. Thank you for sharing.
Rosalie/mudderbear

said...

Thank you for sharing your story. I admire your resiliency and strength. As a social worker, I have worked with countless children who have been abused and neglected. Many of them find it never safe to return home. I only hope to instill them with the type of resiliency you have that will allow them to grow into strong and healthy adults.

May God continue to heal, protect,and bless you.

Pamela
Pammiej2002.blogspot.com

said...

Part Two...
Shannon,
Your post is a bitter sweet post. We as abused children are still suffering in our hearts that keep opening those doors we want to shut so bad.
My mom finally left, with my help and after staying with the pain for 45 years. She divorced him, changed her name and SS number with abused women association. She married another man just for companionship just to fall in an abused marriage again. Not knowing, she called my dad who helped her get a fast divorce and back to him...She married him again and passed away 8 months later.
I have no regrets helping her get away, even if it were a short time. Dad...hes an OLD, LONELY, LITTLE MAN. His five children are the children he discarded in life to this day.
Thank you for sharing your story! You write so well and your story will help so many others.

said...

Sitting here crying after reading Part II Pig Tales. You're a great writer Shannon. Will there be a Part III? Hugs, jo

said...

Your story touched me. I can relate in to the abusive parent, same but different. I deal with the food addiction as well. I have not pin pointed where it started. I too am grateful for healing from a Savior.

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