this one comes from after my first day of memory. I was with my foster mom doing me level best to win her over. SHe wasn't beating me for a change and I said to her "when we die do boys become girls and girls become boys?" Then I really freaked her out when I prefaced a statement with "when I was dead..." this sent her over the edge and it pleases me because I saw real fear in her face when she looked at me. For the first time I felt safe in her presence for one instant. Then she grabbed my right wrist and yanked and started to swing me around like she loved to do to make sure my shoulder would never develop properly. She told me this often. That is why she only grabbed my right wrist. She fucking broke her hand beating me and no one said a word. She bragged about that until my case worker told her to stop telling people.
I was taken in to see a doctor and she started the process to get rid of me. I ended up stayiong there for two or three years after that.
Of course the first one was because of my aunt emasculating me and trying to make me into a girl. I was under the impression that men were worthless and only women had value because of her teaching me this. The second was my way of refering to my time in the torture chamber(The Shelter). I refer to that time as the time I was dead because I was. I existed like you see mental patients portrayed in movies, dazed frozen to whatever place I was put in. Wholly dependent on my abusers who gav em nothing but abuse.
Thats a happy memory. Fucked up huh?
and so it goes.......
Edited by kidneythis (06/24/10 11:15 PM)
As Mark Twain once quipped, history may not repeat itself, but it does rhyme.