When I was a child I only had my mother . My dad left and I can understand why now that I'm older. I have two sisters and one brother and I always wondered why I wasnt good enough. I would do so much to try and get into my mothers good graces but it was never enough. She would tell me that no one wanted me and she was the best I would ever find. If I did anything to cross her path her response would be to pack my things and get out. I had no where to turn, no friends because I was told I had so many siblings I didnt need friends. I was trapped. I could understand if I was a bad child, but I wasnt and now that I'm older I can see that. I didnt do drugs, I didnt run the streets, I went to school everyday, I came home, I did my homework, I did everything she asked to the best of my ability. I remember her beating me so badly because I had gotten a C on my report card in the second grade I had to get stitches. I was always terrified that I would do or say something she didnt like and I would be beaten and thrown outside. The scars of fear stuck with me because I stuck with her. I tried to make friends but she would make me feel like they where using me, out to get me when the truth is she was. I lived with her until I was 21 years old, working three diffrent jobs because I had to "earn my keep like a real man would". I would bring home every two weeks $900 - $2,000 dollar pay checks only to have $100 left to me because I had to pay for my "right to live there". I was forced to live in the molded, mildewed basment because with $100 in my pocket if I said anything, ob
jected to anything I would be thrown out into the streets. I remember some words that will never leave me she told me one day because I didnt do the dishes "Your in the dog house now, because the dogs now have more rights than you". I would cry, a 18 year old man would cry because he felt worthless, he felt like a failure. I remember the one time I did stand up for myself to her. I didnt put my hands on her, I could never do that to my mother but I did tell her no..... (We have a huge extended family) She called up her eight brothers and fourteen sisters, my aunts and uncles & told them I had hit her. I dont remeber how many actually showed up but I know it was at a minimum ten and they jumped me and beat me up made me wish I wasnt born. I at the age of 21 joined the Army, I had to see if I truely was more than what I thought I was & if I wasnt then maybe I would die at war. I have been in for six years now and survived two combat tours to afganistan. My mom is proud of me and so is my family, but you know who isnt proud? I'm not, I hate myself and I'll never be proud of anything I do because the scars I hold under my flesh and bone cant be healed. They are there forever scorched into my soul. Once my judgement comes I dont want to review my life I dont care if I goto heaven or hell, I just want to know why me?