ONE HARD FALL

i dont know what i am doing or where i am going. my days run together like a river meeting the harbor, and i am a fish drifting with the tide. the one thing i know is a fish deals with alot less then me,the fishy goes with the flow and lives its life like it was made to, eat and be eaten they know nothing more nothing less. i wouldnt want the fish's life because know what different possibilities are out in the world, the fish only knows its two life rules eat and be eaten. i am the fish that knows different then the rest but i cant get my life together so i can live like the rest of the humans.

i am always worried about falling (health wise), when i stumble i can regain my balance and pull through. i fell and fell hard, the worst part was that my mother was the one who made it happen. she knows how easy it is for me to fall that i need support and love to help me stay strong. she ran up one side of me and down the other with every bad fault i had and moved on to my son when she was finished with me, the sad thing was by the time she was done with me my strengh had diminished and i couldnt save my son from her wrath. she doesnt beat us she slices through you screaming at us for all our faults, mind you we arent drug addicts, thieves, criminals. my son is 9 and was screamed at for not being organized, i was in my bathroom crying uncontrollable having an anxiety attack, drenched in sweat and thinking a seizure was on its way. i couldnt help my son i had to hide from him so that he didnt see his mother in that condition.

growing up in my parents house my sister and i were raised with the same crazy wrath, spill something and you get terrified she will go crazy on you for making a mess. my mother cleaned our rooms and would scream and yell because it wasnt organized like she wanted, we were terrified of making mistakes her words stung and so did a wooden spoon which was used when or if we had the guts to argue. i blame my mom for my condition now although my sister fared well, most likely because she was the oldest by six years and was out first so it left me alone to deal with the wrath. i wanna make them proud but it seems like the more i try the worse i do and believe me i have tried.

i remember some horrible things my sister and i went through, i had my nose broke by my mother and was yelled at for bleeding, my sister ran from my mom one time and tried to get to her room before a beating and my mother put a hole in the wall by tring to push the bedroom door open. i felt bad for my sister after my mother got in, but inside i was glad it wasnt me. my father worked alot but he wasnt innocent either, he didnt use a weapon when we were punished he used his big hands and would smack the shit out of you. i remember when i was in my twenties he came at me and i ran to get away only to be caught and drug home by his hand squeezing my jaw while hit banged my head with those big hands. i walked around with a hand print bruze on my face for a week and having to explain to friends what was wrong with my face. the whole time he knew i was an epileptic too. the last time i was beaten by my father i was 33 and i decided it was time to put an end to it, i fought back he hit i hit back it sure shocked the hell out of him that his youngest daughter could handle the punch and deliver one right back. i made sure to remind him that i was too old to be touched and if it happened again he would be going to jail. he told me yeah you are a little bitch that would do it too. nice way to treat your sick daughter huh? we still to this day arent close mother or father, hell some of their friends thought my sister was their only child, they must be embarrass of me and find it best not to discuss the screwed up younger daughter.

i am digging my way out of the hole my mother put me in, slowly i will pop out, i hope!