Before I start, I am not asking for your symphathy and I know this isn't a contest for who's got the worst story. I don't really mean to give my life's story but some background is needed to understand the situation. I am sure that many had the same experiences as me although it may be hard to come out with it. I am merely stating what traumatized me, nothing more and nothing less. So here goes.....
When I was I child, I had every thing I ever wanted. I am not talking of material possesions.
I lived with my family in a cozy house out ine the country on a 4 acre space of property.
It included 20 square yards of vegetable gardens, a flower garden, berries. and peaches.
We owned chickens, rabbits, and ducks.
I had woods in the backyard that I spent most of my days...usually around a campfire with my family.
If not with my family then I walked alone in the woods-ever since the age of three.
We didn't have a lot. Most the clothes I had were hand me downs that my oldest brother grew out of long ago passed
on to my other brother and then to me, the youngest.
We were poor, but happy.
At the age of nine this changed when I was taken from my school with no words spoken and the next thing I knew I was in
a hospital and I was taken to a room with everone staring at a man lying motionless with no life in him. I looked
closer and I recognized it to be my father.
At that moment I saw my father dead a lot of me died with him.
Besides losing the best man I ever knew and also my best friend, I didn't realize that I was about to lose my
entire way of life with it and almost every thing else with it.
With my dad gone we could not afford to keep the home I lived my entire life in. The gardens, the woods, the
campfires....all gone.
All of our family "friends", including my grandparents in this country all turned their backs on us when we needed them most.
If it hadn't been for recieving my dad's social security i am sure we would of had to live of charity or be below poverty level...even though my mother still worked...and damned hard too. Because no one else was there for us.
Racial slurs soon came upon my mother for being a immigrant, being called a Dego or Wap.
With the rest of the family and the community turning our backs to us, I saw the true nature of the common person. In highschool it eventually became the same. Everyone eventually turned their back to me and I became a ghost in the hall that you might see in the corner of your eye.
At home, (I will not mention which family member) I was beaten and reminded of how ****ing worthless I am every wrong step I took. I believed that person and sometimes still do.
I also watched my mother eventually become a shell of herformer self. Her usual cheerful tone was more somber and sullen every day. Until she was no longer herself but someone I didn't know.
My family eventually drifted apart with bitter tensions.
So in the end I almost lost everything.
I carry this in my heart everywhere I go and it affects me as though it just happened.
But I survived. And I still have my faith.
I pray,
"Oh God, I thank you for those years in happiness at the beginning of my life
and for instilling the wisdom of the world in me through my trials
and for giving me the strength to endure them
may I be closer to You because of it.
And I ask, will you grant me the favor of fufilling my dreams to achieve such a
state of happiness again?
What plan do you have for me?
Are the dreams of conversation with my dead father real or just dreams?
And in retrospect I ask, how did it come to be that I had great relations with you since childhood?
When I was walking alone in the woods in those days...was I walking with
you?
May you guide me to my fate...Amen
So that's it. Sorry to waste your time. :(
