I had vivid dreams last night of parts of my childhood. Just short little clips that made me sit and think of unhappy memories, the parts that I remember every single detail.

I stayed in bed just looking up right there at my ceiling for 40 min or so going in and out of dreams . My son rolled back over and fell asleep . So Up I got at 545 am to make some coffee and start working, but instead my heart was being tugged at, to just write and release these feelings.

My mom was a alcoholic growing up , and it got bad sometimes . I thank God we are all alive because their where times this five, six , ten year old would have to find ways to get us home, or somewhere safe ..

I was about six and crying so hard that for a moment I thought I had the super power to see through the metal bars of our staircase. I remember thinking that so clearly. My eyes where blurred from the tears , I was yelling at him to stop . My moms boyfriend was spanking my three year old brothers naked bottom over and over , it was loud . And his butt was so red.

The moment before this we were home alone, a three and five year old.

We were trying to get our Halloween candy down and we climb up the pantry shelve to reach it when he walked in. I got away to the stairs. Suddenly he finally stopped where he turned to me . I can still feel how hard I was crying how I felt like my feet where flying. He was right behind me as I ran up the stairs got to my room and locked the door. I crawled under bed to the far corner . I was scared but I was always kept on even when I shouldn`t . I yelled at him , that I wish he would disappear.

He told me it was because of him we were there , beat my door for what was probably longest minute of my life and then continued to hate my guts. I fell asleep from the tears under the bed in corner. I dont remember when I came out, I don`t remember my mom coming home. I dont think I ever told anyone about how scary he was until I was much , much older .

My mom stayed with him for a while , we stayed with my dad on the weekends, that was my safe place . This man killed our dog and he would hit my mom . We tried our best to stay away when he mad. Eventually one day he beat my mom so bad he ripped out her hair and beat the living crap out of her.

She promised to leave him .

Long story short , because so much happened while he was there as you can imagine.

We moved with my grandma and grandpa for a bit before going to stay with my dad full time during the trial . My grandpa was the best.

He was always so extra , you want an ice cream Sunday , he topped it with ALL the toppings int the biggest bowl. You want cherries ? He got me a Costco jar. He was that grandpa .

In third grade he passed away .

I remember at the funeral I was so angry. My grandma was already bagging up the house to move , throwing away his stuff . . The memories of him talking about these little things is still right there and so fresh , how could she bag them and just put them in a trash bag?

We now lived with my dad and stayed with my every other weekend.

By now he has met my step mom . My mom has started drinking more and more . I would watch her and know when it was too much and try and keep my brother from her. We would plot ways to get rid of her alcohol . He knew boyfriend was an enabler , so naturally we hated him. He loved getting her wasted and helped he do it.

My step mom was nice at first. She was there from the age five . She was strict. My mom gave us what wanted , I guess out of guilt of being drunk and us not being with her. I chose strict and safe over my moms , because there she would bring us back to see the abusive boyfriend. She would get super drunk and I would be praying we made it back home.

She once freaking forgot us at Mt. Rushmore where she was getting drunk at the bar with bikers, now that is a whole other story on it own…

cross country with my mom , my brother a trailer and alcohol. Could be next novel?

tauni joy photography

My brother & I

Driving across country with my mom .

Anyways , lets skip ahead .

7th grade we moved to Tucson . I was not happy . I finally had friends at school , I worked so hard to make the 8th grade team softball team as a 7th grader . I sucked at softball , but I practiced EVERY day to be the best . From right field to pitcher and third base was HUGE. I mostly just wanted my dad to be proud and hang out with me . Not the he didn`t , my dad was my rock at the time so I would do anything that made him happy . Sports was something he loved , so I wanted to love them more.

I told my dad I wouldn`t play again if we moved.

And I was stubborn , I didnt try out for the high school team .. but my heart is grateful we moved. I needed to get away from the girls I became friends with . And I met my now husband in High School , so I would say it was meant to be.

And now I am in high school.

and this my friends is when my step mom got, well , extra mean. She was always strict , and moody and a yeller. It was like something just shifted dramatically .

When I needed a woman’s help most she shut me out . Somewhere around this time my mom became wanted , for her zillionth (is that a word?) DUI. She ran for a while before getting caught and going to prison . My great grandma got her off easy she spent less than a year there. But I didnt see much of her for a couple years and I missed her.

We only visited once , I hated seeing her in prison. I honestly didn’t know what to think about it . I was confused , lost but always knew someday I would do something better than all of them .

My mom who wasn’t there , my step-mom who was mean , and all the woman who had a drinking problem in my family .

I would be the FIRST girl in the family to not be an alcoholic . Now it is by Gods grace that I survived. I wish I could say that I was perfect and did it all right and never lost faith .

I was constantly cut down by my step mom , she would call me names like, cunt , bitch , just the worst things as a 15-19 year old. When she was real mad or hurt she knew how to hurt me most , by tellin me I would become nothing like my mom , that I would be just like her. This hurt so bad, even though my mom did these horrible things, I always would protect her , tell her its okay . It also filled me with shame to admit because I didnt want to be that .

It is was like she egged me on until I fought back , and then egg me on to hit back . For two years if I came home she went in her room . I felt like I was ruining their marriage, I felt like if I was not home maybe they were happy .

So I partied with friends , I worked 40hrs while I was in school . I moved to the ghetto at 19 all alone to get away .

Although I lost my way at times, I was 19 alone and lived in a scary spot .

I thank Jesus so much for always being inside my heart and watching out for me . Their were times you guys I could not afford a stupid bean burro at taco bell or to print my homework out at the library .

I just kept fighting , I worked 3-4 jobs at a time always .

My boyfriend and I ,now husband, went through some hard times. Although we both partied , I had a drive to be more. I was the worker bee .

He was just a 19 year old boy , also finding his way . Eventually he convinced me to start fresh with him in New Mexico , not exactly my dream state of choice . After a year we were married . Another year at 23 we bought our first home , with all our savings . I had about 15 W2s , not joke. The lender said he never see many W2s . I really ALWAYs had no less than 2 jobs at a time .