over the next few posts I'm going to explain who I am, and what the heck I'm about. this is expecially so that when I say "been there, done that" you will know that I really have been there and done that. although I am only 23, I have been through more than a lot of people. I have three younger brothers, one older sister, one older half-sister, three dead older half brothers, one (same age) half brother, and (possibly, not confirmed) one younger half brother. that's all the siblings I know of. my father (parental figure, from now on) was quite the playboy. I had a very violent upbringing. first off, let it be known that I was molested by an aunt as a little girl. not just me, my sister and cousin also were. no one talks about it, is as if it never happened. although I've never tried to talk to my sister about it, I know that she would deny it. my family is like that. I don't think I have to go into more details than that though. second, the parental figure used to beat the crap out of us. I remember seeing him kick my mother's head into a wall when I was no more than three. he would also drink all the money we had and beat my sister and me up when my mother didn't send him her whole check. he would also threaten my mother (she was in the US and we were with him in the island) that she would never see us again.
now a little background, my mother had my sister and me out of wedlock which made us bastards and some of her family members treated us as such (only a few aunts and uncles). when my sister was a baby, the parental figure kidnapped her (hid her from my mother for about 1 month). I still don't know why my mother went on to have 4 more kids with a kidnapping wife beater. he would listen in the other line when we would speak with my mom on the phone to see if she was telling us to go somewhere and meet her family. he hated that I always told my mom that he was in the other line. oh yeah, I forgot to say that the parental figure was also a "pastor" (only when it was convenient to him). yup, the parental figure a pastor. a bible under the arm and a bottle of cerveza on his hand. he also would cheat on my mom every chance he got. one time my sister actually had to wait outside the house for him to finish his cheatin' (we lived in a one room dingy....that's a whole other post)
I'm not sad as I write this because I have come to accept my childhood as what it was. however nasty it was on the parental figure's side, my mamma (grandma on mom's side) made it good. she was the best grandma in the world (she died a couple of years back). This is it for now, I will post later. remind me to tell you about my unusal collection of pets and how they all (with the exception of like 3, that we had to give away) met unsavory ends.
