I Cry And Pray...

I was abandoned by a physically and mentally abusive mother at the tender age of 6. She was a victim of the crack epidemic, and so was I. She taught me how to ride the city bus at 5 and I honestly believe I went to school just to eat breakfast and lunch.

She would help me with my homework, but she would become agitated and would beat me if I answered a question wrong.

She accused me, a 6 year old, of having sexual relations with her many guy friends...but of course she called them my 'uncles'..

After about 2 years of getting beat across the head with fist, high heals, and wire hangers she came up with a great idea..

She and her 'getting high' friend drove me and my siblings to my grandmothers house one beautiful day. I'll never forget the way she ran off, she jumped in a moving car, and took off before she could even close the car door.

My siblings and I were shuffled around from pilar to post until my paternal aunt intervened on my behalf. Great right?

I moved in with my Aunt and her son. My cousin and I were both 7 years old at the time. She let me know that I wasn't her responsibility and that if I needed anything that I should get in contact with my father. She became even more cold and nasty to me--I was already broken so I took the pain and swallowed it.

I stayed with my aunt for 6 months while my siblings were still in foster care.

I moved with my father and stepmother months later...
It was Christmas Eve. I took a plane, alone to another city and state. My father picked me up from the airport and took me to my new home. He opened the front door slooowly...to my surprise there was a HUGE Christmas tree with a ton of gifts underneath!!

We had a 'family' for about a year 1/2. My father fell back into the drug addiction and my stepmother left. I was sent to live with my Grandmother for the time being.

I kept a bag packed. I was 9 years old and just knew that my mother would come back for me. As the years past I grew resentful. I was hurt and cried myself to sleep every night. I was plaqued with nightmares and all sorts of anxiety issues.

I talked to God because my Grandmother was distant. By the time I turned 13 she became hateful and wouldnt speak to me for days at a time. I prayed and cried some more.

The anxiety became worse as I grew older. I had a dark cloud over my head and I started becoming the family joke.

I was known as the stupid one. No wonder your parents left you. I cried and prayed some more.

As time went on I started realizing I didnt look like my family. My hair was long and silky and my eyes were almond shaped and exotic. I was often asked what was mixed with and had been called one of the prettiest girls in school on numerous occasions.

Family would visit on holidays and would compliment me on my looks and/or intelligence and my Grandmother would scream at them for complimenting me.

I cried so much I thought I would die.

I was shuffled back to my hometown years later. Now 17 years old, with no major direction in life. No major goals in life cept to be happy. I just didnt want to hurt so badly anymore.

I was short credits to graduate on time. I prayed that God would make a way. He did. I graduated with extra credits, maybe NOW someone will love me?!

Nope, I walked home alone from my HS graduation. Of course, I cried. I moved to another city/state 2 weeks later and I would wake up with these crazy painic attacks...

I continued to cry and pray. God heard me and finally started to lift that pain. But 'family' is important right?

I would save $ to fly into town to spend with family for holidays. They would never be happy to see me. I kept at it though.

I eventually found my mother at 20. She cursed me and said she'd wanted nothing to do with me.
I cried and prayed some more.

By 21 I had moved back to the city/state that majority of my family lives in...the city/state where I'd also rush to spend holidays.

I flew in town and went directly to my grandmothers house. Its Christmas Day. She's laying on the couch having a conversation with my aunt in the other city/state I just moved from. My grandmother tells my aunt (in my face) that I'm not welcomed there and she didnt know what even gave me that impression.

I left two days later. I was a college student and also worked full time. I moved in with my dad who's a surgeon.

I had been living with him for 3 weeks and he called me one day to tell me that I had to move because I wasnt on his lease. I needed to move that day.

I left, I took a fork, a knife, a spoon, and a blanket. He called me and cursed me for taking what didnt belong to me.

I stayed in a hotel for 4 days until I found an apartment. I had $1800 saved, which was enough for security deposit/first month/last month+food.

I slept on the floor for months. I went to school then to work. And I cried and prayed.

I went to file my taxes and was told someone else had beat me to it. I also learned that my grandmother was still recieving government assistance for me although I was an independent adult and hadnt lived under her roof in over 5 years.

I went hungry for days. I called my father and asked if he could send me $ to eat. He replied he had to pay his cellphone bill and cable, he hung up the phone and I cried and prayed.

I stayed strong and self reliant. I stayed in that city for 3 years until I got fed up with the cruel treatment.

I sometimes go back to that city because I have friends there that I thought I had close ties with. They too were used to me taking everything that was dished my way because I was used to being treated like filth.

I have gone back to that house that habors so much pain, and not to mention evil spirits (true story)...there are no longer any pictures of me on the walls. No trace of my exsitence.

When I do stop by my aunts and cousins giggle behind my back like middle school kids--it hurts.

I'm now in my early 30's. Beautiful as all get out, sharp mind, and very logical.
I'm the 'go to' person. I never fail to come through on a promise and I'm a great confidant.

My strength is amazing...sometimes scary.

I often wonder, am I too strong for the average man to appreciate? I'm still alone, and I still cry.

I still wonder, whats wrong with ME?

RickiM RickiM
31-35, F
Dec 3, 2012