Changes

Nothing in life is perfect, there is no perfect beginning and no perfect end. In the space between we have chances to live and learn.
A little background about me, my life has been a series of unfortunate and tragic events. I started life being born four months premature, and addicted to drugs. I died 3 times in the following 8 months after birth, but higher powers felt I was worthy of life and I survived.
My Mom, and step dad (who I grew up most of my childhood believing was my real father), were alcoholic drug abusers. They had four other kids before me, three that were their biological children, and one who my Mom got pregnant with when she was sold out for drugs. Then there is me, I was conceived when my Mom sold herself for a fix, while my step dad was in jail.
My step dad, Seymour, hated me with a vengeful passion. I will never know why, other than the fact that I wasn’t his. I am slightly dark skinned, due to Polynesian decent, but lighter than most of the members of my family, and I have blue eyes. Seymour hated this, and often pointed out how ugly my eyes were and how he wanted to pluck them out of my head. I suffered a lot of abuse from him for more than 12 years. I was neglected, half starved, locked in closets, mercilessly beaten until I bled, had broken bones, or lost consciousness, and was emotionally and sexually abused. One day Seymour even sold me to a pedophile at the age of 11 where I was violently raped and left severely injured. Seymour’s favorite place to torture me was under the kitchen sink. I was shoved under there and locked in for days at a time. I had to endure being able to see my parents and siblings eat at the table while I got nothing. If it hadn’t been for my one brother risking his life to sneak me water and food scraps, I probably would have starved or dehydrated to death under there. There is so much more to my story of abuse and survival, and my continuing struggles, but I will leave it at that for now.
I could be like a lot of abuse victims who keep the cycle going by becoming abusers themselves, or by using their past abuse to excuse bad behavior, but I have chosen to take the high road. The odds are stacked against me, but I will not falter to the demons in life.
To be continued…