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If it's all you have, it will have to do.
Being the last of 5 kids, the crumbs were scares. I learned how to
occupy myself. The only toy I had was a doll, and truly to me that
doll was alive. I had some dice, and pretended a game with someone
else there playing. I think you call that survival. it worked.
I didn't want to be a problem. I new at a early age to stay quiet and out
of site as much as possible.
I had talents at an early age, I could sing very well and play instruments with
ease. But my mom couldn't do anything with it. Because my dad pissed all the
money away on his boos and drugs. This hurt my mom she had to choose a roof
over my head or putting me in music lessons. The alcohol won. My dads priorities was
himself.
I think I was 6 or 7. Dad would come home really late and drunk. My mom would lock
her bedroom door so that he wouldn't go in. I know this because I asked my mom why as an
adult why dad always came in my bedroom. She said she locked the door because he would
come in drunk asking for sex, she would say no, but he never took no for an answer.
So here is one of those early memories that don't go away. I remember putting a note on my bedroom door. It said "Dad will you please sleep on the cowch" That was the spelling I
used for couch. I remember this because the next morning everyone laughed at my note and spelling.
I found this incredibly sad and angry as an adult. Going through my therapy I said to my therapist they laughed at my spelling and totally disregarded that my father was sleeping with me.