Rough Seas

Wicked ‘step-b**’ that’s what I called her.  Debra was her name.  Two or three years had passed since the divorce.  I was excited to meet Debra and the possibility of having a mommy was exciting, since mine was out of touch.  She was sweet and loving before the marriage.  Afterwards she transformed into a nasty ‘b**’.  

My dad still worked in the oil fields at the time and was away for most evenings and I was left in her care.  She changed.  Even her own son, told me of some of the abuses he endured.  Over the years I was locked out of the house until dark.  I had to eat my meals cold.  I was made to take cold baths.  One time I was dragged from the tub, thrown into the dirt road and she threw sand on me and rubbed it in.  Yes, I know it sounds incredible, but I really happened.

That having been said I endured other abuses, but I think you get the gist. All these things led me to withdraw from social interaction and I became socially handicapped.  I was afraid of many people, situations, and I really was hyper-sensitive to the smallest comments. 

Socializing at school became increasingly difficult.  My grades suffered and I became rebellious.  I back talked teachers, one time I was sent to in school suspension.  I was in the principal’s office several times and letters sent home to my parents.

I would get in trouble, get a whipping, and grounded.  Dad always sided with Debra.  I began to hate her and to really feel betrayed by my father.  Then I ran away and the result was that I went to live with Granny.  Yeah!

~ by formingANopinion on November 7, 2010.