Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Inner Feelings Sometimes Hurt

This morning my husband Michael has been watching that guy on tv that eats all those weird foods from around the world. It's gotten him into the mood to do some cooking. Experimenting really. Someone from our building gave him some pig skins so that is one of the things he's trying to create with. Anyways, it reminds me of years ago when I was invited to his house to have dinner with him and his family. I will never forget that dinner. The meat they served was pig ears, yes you read right. Pig Ears! I never heard such a thing and actually never have since. He swears up and down that I'm wrong but you never forget something as weird as that! I'm I right? Did I eat it? Ah.. No Way! That's downright gross no matter how you look at it. They all acted like it was an everyday thing and I being in love just chalked it up as, they were from the south and people eat different stuff down there. To this day he still says they never ate pig ears but I know better.

I still question why someone would fix something so gross for a first meeting with their child's girlfriend/boyfriend except to try and scare them off! I sure wouldn't do it and actually I don't know anyone else that would either!

I will never ever forget the things I seen and heard in that household. I had never been around anykind of abuse or neglect until I met Michael. No wonder he clung to my parents like nothing I'd seen before. I do have to admit that I felt sorry for him and his brother and sister and I a that point decided I would rescue him from that awful place. If not it had been for love, I would of ran as fast and as hard in the other direction!

I grew up in a loving and caring home. No yelling or meaness. No abusive treatment or punishments. Things were dealt with, in love. Totally opposite from what his home was at any given time of the day or night. For one example, all or most parents want their children to finish school, right? The parents tried as best they could to provide for their children so they could finish school. Not them, he was forced to pay rent so he had to get a job and miss school. I think if it hadn't been for meeting me and seeing what a normal family life was all about, he would of always thought his life was normal. He would of continued to live in his parents home and suffer. Instead, he chose to move out at the age of 15 and get his own apartment. Sure, things were tough but a whole lot better then they were with his parents. And of course after I shared with my parents what kind of home he came from, they too tried to help him out as much as possible. I'll never forget their faces when I told them what I had seen and heard.

Another example I can give is about Michael's sister. While I was visiting I watched as she was forced to get down on her hands and knees with a scrub brush and sweep the carpet trying to rid it from dirt and dog hair. They had a long haired kind of a shepherd/collie mix dog. It took her hours and hours. In fact if I remember correctly she had to finish that to their liking before she could do her homework.

His parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. Both of which I had never been subject to. When they had any spare moments you could always find them down the hill at the corner bar or if they were home they were drinking. I still can't imagine what those kids went through. It seems like to me that they would of all stayed as far away from drugs and alcohol when they got older but you learn what you live and each one of them has been plagued with both at one time or another. I'll never completely understand it.

You ask, Aren't you worried about writing this where everyone can read it? I'm asking myself that yes. But you can't always be afraid to say something. Besides, I'm only saying what I myself had seen, I'm not making things up. I know that there's alot of people that don't know alot of what the past was like for some of us. Like my kids, they don't quite get why we are the way we are. I think they need to know so they can kind of understand and hopefully be alittle bit more understanding.

I have to say that I have not completely gotten over the shock of things I had seen and heard in that household. To me, it was like a never-ending nightmare and I fortunately got to leave and go home where I could escape it but those that lived it every minute of everyday had to endure. That make's me know and kind of understand why they are the way they are and I have to say I feel sorry for them. All of them. I have to say that for awhile I didn't really think they'd make it to adulthood. Since then, I've had my own nightmares that I've had to endure and overcome. Not all have I conquered but I keep working towards that goal.

Even though I could go on and on about all the things I witnessed I won't. Not all of them are vivid in my head. Those I've mentioned so far a just a couple that are vivid. There is one other that I just have to get out. Michael had a room fixed in the basement of their old runned down tatered house that they rented. It also doubled as a hangout of sorts for all his buddies. They all sat around down there and smoked pot. Did I tell you that his parents were the first to introduce Michael to pot? That alone gives you an idea of what kind of family he came from. Anyways, back to what I was saying. Their were several of us downstairs, his stepfather came down, I can't recall exactly what happened but the next thing I know is that his stepfather had a pistol in his hand and was hitting Michael with it. I'm pretty sure that gun was loaded and it put us all at risk of being fatally injured. I never forgot it and never forgave him for that or all the rest of things. I will never understand how a parent could be so mean.

I never forgot or forgave his mother for not being a mother and protecting her kids from that sort of thing. I don't know maybe because she was part of the problem. Maybe she too was being abused? But I still can't understand how a mother could stand by and watch her kids being tormented just about every minute of every day. I know they say love is blind but where was her protection instinct?

I know people say that it takes more work to be mad at someone but I have tried for years and it really takes more work to not be mad. Actually in my case, it's alot easier to not care for someone, to not like them. Besides, when they think you are their friend then it's like you can't get rid of them, you can't escape them. Now, my mind is tired and I need to take a break.

I'm sure this blog alone will cause alot of hurt and upset but like I've been told, keeping these kinds of things bottled up inside isn't healthy. So I guess people can just be mad at me but they'll get over it sooner or later.

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