Days go by and still I think of you....

This is becoming an addiction... feed the craving of livejournal so my two hollow legs can be filled. *taps chin* That brings a hidious picture to mind. However, I am working very diligently on getting back in the habit of writing every night. *laugh* I do in my "real" journal... sorry that you seem to be left behind. And here I am apologizing to a cyber journal... finals have fried my brain!!! Oh, hell.

I was at Rose all weekend with Kevin. *grin* I don't know why people have the idea that I'm sleeping with my boyfriend. I assume these are the people that are fucking who ever they want to... HOWEVER, not everyone on this planet feels the need to base their relationshipi off of sex. Gee... what a novel thought?! What? Have other things in a relationship? I never would have imagined! Idiots. Like, talking, cuddling, being together, going places, joking around, etc. This is three years and nine months and yet, my boyfriend and I can still flirt like when we first got together in the relationship. There's also the sweet reminder that although we love talking together, we're so comfortable with one another that we can sit in silence and still be comfortable. Not many people can cope with that idea without running thoughts through their head like: "I wonder whywe're not talking?", "What should we talk about?", "Is he mad at me?" Sweet pickles, people! I found this out from my ex-roomie that people have the idea that we sleep together.... *grin* However much I want that, there is something else called SELF-CONTROL. To those who do and mean it, kudos to you and enjoy it!! However, keep your own fucking backwards ideas about people's sex life to yourself unless you have EVIDENCE. *sighs* Stupid people... geesh.

Where was I? Oh, yes... I was at Rose this weekend spending time with Kevin (YAY). Em called me and confirmed that her and Josh were engaged!!!!!! YYYYAAAAAAYYYY!!! I'm so happy for them. Kevin and I didn't do much... sleep, watch a movie, play video games together, do some homework, go through the daily morning routine of him trying to pry my grasps from the bed posts because I don't want to get out of my warm cocoon of blankets and pillows in the morning (I hate morning... they need to be irradicated... but then afternoons will become "mornings"... damn... let's rename them and make times later so we don't have to deal with mornings then!!!) What else did we do? We went out with John and Megan for dinner for another double date, even though it was a quickie since they needed to go to work... but we went to Petsmart, also. I miss my pony and puppy... *sniff* The lobby was invaded by the usual freaks, so we spent the majority time out or in his room, which is fine with me because that means I can cuddle up nex tot him whenever I like without having gaping eyes... not that it matters to me, but Kevin isn't that comfortable with people looking at him like that. Idiots. I had to come back early tonight for Senior dinner, but was sick so I didn't go... which is a shame because I could have stayed longer with Kevin. *sigh* But, I just talked to him (just hung-up) a second ago from telling him nini for the night since he's going to bed. Since I don't talk much about my relationship to many people, I guess this gets the blunt end of it. *laugh*

The stupid library wasn't open when I needed to go... hence my Visial Arts Appreciation being put on hold until tomorrow when it comes to book resources. *rolls eyes* Sean and I placed our battle on hold to discuss things more important... like... how anakin was turned to the dark side from drinking Pepsi instead of Coke and alcohol and katie and I studying abroad (possibly) next semester in Canada. I wasn't talking to many others besides him and Katie since I was diligently writing about sex vs. gender (Gender vs. Sex: From a New Position) for my sociology class. I love warped sense of humor; all those not attaining it is deprived. So, I carried my lovely laptop to Katie's room and am still chilling down here for the time being. *shrugs with an impish smile* We were going to hang out tonight and we both have homework... so... we're both working on that (I'm not anymore since I finished my paper and am taking a break until SG Atlantis!!). We were discussing suiting next semester but we can't find any empty suites... dammit. I'd room with her but the parental units (who are paying for my room) are demanding I have a single. *shrugs* I'm okay with that, but I loved suiting with Katie and we got along wonderfully. So, rock on to that.

It didn't snow tonight. Fucking mother nature. Let's go, man... er... woman! Big, fat fucking snow flakes are what I'm longing for. I love snow. I love this holiday. *grin*

This stupid paper has my brain brining up things that I've longed attempted to forget from my childhood and younger years when my parental units were still married. There's only so much I care to recall about how bastardly my biological sperm donator (a.k.a. "father") was to me. I don't quite grasp how you can just treat a person as he did me, expecially since it was family. Then I realize, it has nothing to do with me and everything with him. I have to write some damn biography about my childhood for a class... I'm sitting there thinking... wtf? Teacher, if you only knew. I'm not one to gossip or explode what happened, but at the same time, I don't have a problem telling it so people aren't stupid about it and see where things can get if they're not careful. In my situation, it wasn't all my choice. I was the kid and they were my parents. At that time, I couldn't walk out. I don't remember exactly when it started- that my father started to abuse me physically, mentally, and emotionally... but it went on since I can remember. It started with him favoring my brother, Nick. Then, since that attitude continued to grow, so did his hatred for me. Since he couldn't cope with his feelings, he lashed out, which happened to be on me. There were times I'd be awakened in the middle of the night to write sentences for something I did that day (mind you- sentences consisted of 3,000 or more until I could return to bed), I got swatted (with his hand, leather belt, tree limbs, oak paddle- which he got pissed the night he hit me so hard it cracked and he couldn't use it any more *smug smile*) until I couldn't sit down the next day at school, he'd blame me for things that I didn't do and there was no way I could do them so he'd have a reason to hit me, ground me for months at a time, drag me around by my hair and yell and spit in my face, kick me afte rhe threw me to the ground, push me down stairs, make me stand in the corner for hours upon hours and if I fell asleep (which I often did because I stood there for so long) my head would hit the wall to "wake me up", etc. There were times my brother and I were supposed to both get into trouble, but my brother would get off the hook by not getting swats, or only having 50 sentences while I had 1,000, he'd ge tout of the corner after 10 minutes while I was in there for hours, etc. Granted, there were things that I needed discipling for, I wasn't a saint. However, a swat on the ass or 100 sentences were effecient- I wasn't stupid. I learned from my mistakes. After all this, I still believe a firm slap on the ass if good when needed. He became obbsessively protective over Nick, who was behind me in academics, sports, socially, etc. Even though I was two grades under him, I was academically three grades ahead of him. He was a antisocial person, I was very social. He has low self-esteem, I didn't care about what others thought and had a high self-esteem. Things like this that was visibly different between my brother and me.

There was one afternoon that my father was on the rampage at me (which was in middle school, so I was quite used to it by now) and I was doing the dishes (which he loved to have me do because he would drag every dish out to have me wash and if I screwed up one dish, I had to do them all over again- it was a routine discipline that kept me washing for hours when he'd drag me out of bed to wash them and I was too tired to care) and he was ranting about how I shouldn't be so brutal to my brother and embarrass him as I did- he was getting picked on in the bus that we used to ride and was kicked in the crotch by the bully and I proceeded to beat the shit out of the boy on the bus for hitting my brother there. To my father, that wasn't anything that I should have done because Nick was going to do his part when he got back up (yeah, right!). I proceeded to get pissed off enough to lash out- which I had earlier learned not to when I was younger becuause if gave him ammunition against me- yelling, "My brother's a retard. He needed my help!" Well, that was the wrong thing to say. My father came storming into the kitchen, grabbing my hair as I braced myself from hearing his pounding steps coming to the kitchen, and throwing me against the sink. I didn't cry out or acknowledge his existance, earning me a jab in the chest with his stubby, iron finger. I argued back this time, though, and swung a fist when he began to hit me. Taken off gaurd my father stumbled back (he was hurt from a work accident and supposedly only has one arm- LIES!) and so I swung again, hitting him square in his bad arm before he got his way with me, determined to not be defeated by such a brute. Well, muscle to muscle, he has me on the ground kicking the shit out of me while I kept my mouth shut, determined not to cry or call out, which gave him pure enjoyment. So, my mother walked in the door and that was the only thing that stopped it because the school had called her to inform her what I had done. My mother mainly stood to the side and let my father do whatever he wanted, however, she told me to get to my room before he could say anything. Taking advantage of the moment, I walked calmly to my room and shut the door before callapsing on the bed. My brother called up through the laundry shoot in the bathroom from the basement where it went out at that night to talk to me as I laid on my stomach, throwing up what I had for dinner. Although my brother typically shined like my father when he was around, behind closed doors, he was a softy that loved me more than I knew at that time.

There was a time that my brother and I burned down my grandpa's fence in Gary, which was hell when I got home. I recieved the oak oar that night, which to his surprise broke against my ass when he swung it for the 8th time. Growling, he grabbed my arm and drug me up the stairs because I couldn't find my footing, which seemed to anger him even more. Finding nothing he could use, he sent me outside to find my own swat off the tree- which is like, the worst type of punishment. I picked a medium branch- not to big to break me and not to small to sting too much. After that, since I couldn't sit, I stoof and wrote sentences the entire night and proceeded to go to school the next day and take "finals". When I got home the next day, he made me run outside as he drove behind in the car- running into my heels if i wasn't fast enough or at the pace he wanted me at. When I got home, he let the fucking little mutt dog chase me around the yard, him biting at my heels (which he let my brother do to me all the fucking time). I was then grounded for six months.

There was one time that I was to be punished by my brother for his hampster dying. Okay, Nick and I always had a hampster together and I always took care of them. Well, his finally croaked and because it's was my fault somehow ( I don't know how- the fucking thing was like 6 yrs. old!) he got to pick my punishment. Well, that afternoon after my father told him that we got into an argument (brother and I) and he proceeded to tell me that he'd punish me there and then if I didn't shut-up and well, I didn't see why I should and I got pushed out the second story window of our bedroom. This was in Highland when I was still in elementary school. I was rushed to the emergency room, but no major wounds. Just to the inside, where no one could see. My brother apologized for letting me sleep on the top bunk. *rolls eyes* Back then, it was a major thing to me... I still had hope that I was going to wake up from my dream, my brother was truly sorry, and my father was going to die in a car accident because he was stupid and tried to drive whiel lighting a cig with only one hand... however, that still hasn't happened.

There were things that were more mental and emotional than physical. You have to know, I don't know how people swallow silently... I always make this little noise. I don't notice it all the time, so I guess I don't do it all of the time, but this would drive my father up the wall. He would yell, rant, rave, take my food away for meals at a time, etc. When we lived in Pulaski he had is fill I guess because that day I had gotten in a fight with someone on the bus (yes, again) for once again bullying my brother, pinning him in a seat, and keeping him repeatedly in the crotch. So, I said fuck that and took matters into my own hands. I asked nicely three times for them to leave my brother alone, not wanting to resort to violence (I was in 5th grade) and when they pushed me, laughing at me, and continuing to hurt my brother, I beat him up, too. So, my father was once again, pissed at me for embarrassing my brother and causing chaos and being violent.... *raises brow* So, he grabbed my plate, threw it on the ground yelling, "If you're going to eat like a fucking dog you can eat on the ground like one," and pushed my face to the floor, expecting me to eat like that. Hell, no, idiot. So, after kicking me and pushing my face to the floor while my mother and brother resumed eating at the table, I was banished to my room without a meal for three days. I was able to sustain because I could eat lunch at school on school days.

Finally, my mother decided to file for a divorce to my father. I was just getting back from staying with my cousin, mimi, aunt and uncle, and cousin Corrine for the weekend- my brother leaving with them for 3 weeks. *shrugs* They sat me down and told me... as much as I was happy that I getting away from it, I didn't know it then. I was devastated that my family was being torn apart, like another statistic. In my fairyland mind, I was hoping that my family would become perfect again, like when I was a small child- happy, loving- to the extent it was, etc. My brother and I could co-exist without me being punished, my mother would grow, and the fighting would stop. Fat chance. I left with my mother and moved in with one of her friends in Winamac that she worked with at Nurse Network. That's when I finally, or TOTALLY, realized what was going on. I knew something was wrong, I knew it wasn't right for my father to do that to me, but I didn't know the details- the extetent. There were so many other times that things like that went on that were worse, same degree, or a little less like what I wrote previously. I had to adapt, though. I kept my emotions inside, knowing he fed off that; I stayed calm through it all, knowing he would beat me harder if he knew i was getting angry or upset; I began to speak out against him and took the pain that came next just so he knew he didn't breka me; and I began to grow as a person, which was the best revenge in the world. His plans for me were to finish high school, if I did, and get married. That's it. I was the top 5 in my class, had Academic Honors, has a steady relationship with Kevin, has multiple friends, was in several organizations and clubs that I exceled at- went to State for in competitions, played sports, etc. I was well educated and became my own person. The worst hell for my father to swallow. Granted, this was after I testified against him so I wouldn't have to go over to his house, where the beatings continued after my parents got a divorce.

It was over trival things, also. There was once that I wanted to go outside with my grandpa and help him in the yard on Easter. I asked my father and he said no, I merely said, why not? I thought that was a reasonable question. The entire family was in the dining room finishing their meal and papa and I were done, so I wanted to be with him. My father flew from his seat, grabbing my hair and dragging my into the kitchen (which could be seen from the dining room, where everyong watched in silence), shook my head while banging it onto the counter, yelling and spitting in my face how I can't argue with him blahblahblah, and slamming me repeatedly in the counter until I fell to the floor. I don't think the tears stinging and trying to force themselves out of my eyes was from my father beating me rather than the realization that my "family" was sitting right there and doing nothing to prevent my father's actions.

After my parents got a divorce, I became the parent in mine and my mother's relationship. She fell apart, unable to survive without a person there to support her. I lost all respect and idea of her as a mother. She became a friend, like a roomate. Alice, the person we lived with became my "mother figure". I gave myself rules, expectations, and ambition to better myself. I know I had them from Alice, who pushed me to the point of breaking, but it was in a good way. She has a temper and was quite capable of being violent, which is where she and I clashed at the beginning. She would do some of the same things as my fahte,r and this time, I didn't back down and take it. Creating a daily hell for all of us, my mother once again being silent and submissive to everyone. Appauling, really, but that was my mother. I can't say we didn't get along and there weren't happy times at Alice's house. I love her more than I can put into words and I had a wonderful time living with her, but as I started to grow and branch into my own person, she began to break down into this violent mess. So, I moved out when the straw came that she was going to kick me out if I didn't stop dating Kevin. So, I decided to move... and my mother came with me. We lived in two differnt places, my mother unable to keep up with bills and with me in school all day, my night job and part time job could only help so much. Alice finally gew herself, as did I. I longed to be back at the Homestead, which was what I still consider my home with all my heart. I thought that Alice and I were being stupid for the things and way we acted. I knew it took losing something to realize how lucky you were to have it, but it had to be both ways. And, we did. My mother and Alice talked through their problems, and so did we. It took longer for Alice and I to, since we're both stubborn as hell. But, I couldn't take losing my home again. I had moved every year during high school and most of my life when I was a child while my parents were still together. I settled down and the Homestead had become my home, where I always wanted to be. Alice and I are basically best-friends, understanding out differences and being able to communicate through words when things aren't going the way they need to be. It's how it should always be and now is.

Kevin and I are still together, but when it comes to my "family", parental units, and past... it's a thing of the past, really. I can't say that I wouldn't take it away if I could do it all over again, but through all the beatings, mind games, and punishments... there was so much experience and self growth that most people can't even begin to contemplate. There are somethings I still won't mention to people, or my mother, who was clueless on some things that my father did to me- beatings and mind games. There are things that was caused by this that I have been out growing... like I couldn't eat in front of people save my life after my parents got a divorce. I'd not eat or hold my hand over my mouth when I chewed. I realized how ridiculous that was when there wasn't anything wrong with me or the way I ate. I didn't need a shrink to work through my problems... I didn't need people for a support group or anyone to talk to... I needed myself and my mind. I was indepedent and self-sufficient since I was ten and holding a job to help pay bills that my father wouldn't help with. I guess the main thing I can recall is that I don't want to be like that... I don't want to be like the weak mother I had or the abbusive father I had. I want to be better... I am better.