Monday, September 29, 2008

Hard to pick the right ghost

It's hard to pick the first ghost, it really is. I could tell you about how as a small child (through the 1st grade) I had a stay at home Dad, and how happy I was. Mom worked at a nursing home, and I got to hang out with my Dad till I started school. I loved it. Working around our farm, going to town, helping Dad in the garage, going to the shooting range with him, wonderful. I was a lil chit, seems now that I can remember at least 4 spankings a week. I also remember I deserved every one of them. At 5 it's hard to appreciate a spanking you deserve but now at 32 all I can say is "THANK YOU DAD!". I have to also thank God for allowing my Dad to be a stay at home Dad. Had he not caused my Dad's semi accident many years before I was concieved, my future would have changed dramatically. I might have ended up like my little brother. *shudder*




My world crumbled when I was 8. My Dad had decided he was getting to old for the harsh winters where we lived and decided to move to Missouri. So we migrated 550 miles away, away from my friends, family and anything and everything else that was important to me. That was hard enough, but then came the crowning blow. My Dad went to apply for his disability benefits and he was deemed well enough to work. Dad floated around between a few jobs for a couple of years, then figuring out he could make more going back to driving semi, that's what he did. Him and Mom's marriage crumbling didn't help either I'm sure. So after having my Dad all to myself for the most part for the first 8 yrs of my life, I did a complete 180. Dad was gone most of the time. I was stuck at home with my Mom and little brother who was 6 yrs my jr. Mom seemed to think way back then Dad favored me, so in return she doted on my little brother. Oh till I was about 10, she was ok I suppose. Then something changed. Back then, I didn't know what it was, now I do, but hindsight is always 20/20. The more my Dad was gone, the more my little brother got spoiled. Then when Dad came in, if he went to disipline my little brother, my Mom would go all beserk on him telling him (and everyone else that would listen) how "mean" Dad was to us kids. Dad got to the point where he was tired of fighting it, so if he wanted to go someplace and do something, he would take me but not my brother. The reason for that was Dad had taught me how he expected me to behave when I was with him. My little brother hadn't had that opportunity, but it wasn't for the lack of Dad trying. Dad just got tired of constantly fighting with my Mom. The more Dad was gone, the more they fought over everything. Mom it seemed would always try to turn us kids to her viewpoint even at our young ages. Of course my little brother whom Mom had spoiled, I suppose in an attempt to make up for Dad not doing much with him, sided with Mom. Me, not so much. Oh sure sometimes I would but I was 9 or 10. Dad would ground me or not let me do something I wanted to and I'd get mad, and then Mom would start the Dad bashing and being a kid I was like "Yeah, he's mean, whatever whatever whatever". Of course with me and Mom doing it, my 3-4 little brother naturally followed suit. After a few years though, things changed. Mom seemed to just want me out of her hair. My summers were spent up home staying with my family, then after I came home for school, it seemed like she felt like I was nothing but in the way. Dad was gone more and more and I was lost. At that time I didn't realize the jeporday my parents marriage was in, nor did I realize that Mom was afraid I'd tell Dad about her "boyfriends". I was 10, I knew people had affairs, but my parents doing it? No it never crossed my mind then. Dad had always had women friends, and my Mom had always had man friends. I had friends that were both boys and girls. I never thought anything about it. I knew my parents fought, but everyone got mad at one another at some time. It wasn't until one day driving by the city pool Mom asked a fatal question to our relationship. "How would you like Rich to be your 'new' Dad?" I was floored, and also very pissed off even at 10-11 years old. I liked Rich, I still do, he's a great guy despite he had a thing going on with my Mom. My little brother who Mom had brainwashed into thinking Dad was cruel and mean to us, was all for it. My big mouth got me in trouble that day though, I drew a line in the sand between me and my Mom that I wouldn't even know I had drawn for a few more years when I responded "NOOOOOOO! I love MY Daddy, I don't want another one! Why are you asking us this, Dad is our Daddy, you can't replace him." I'll never forget the look that I got after that proclomation.




That's where the trouble began...and my long journey to become who I am today started.

Ghosts in the Closet

I have many of them. Good friends are learning them slowly but surely, and my wonderful friend Fiesty had a great idea for a blog based off of one such conversation. Which kind of got me to thinking to myself, maybe, just maybe my ghosts of the past might be able to help someone else someway, somehow. Not to mention the material that would open up for me to post and people would actually know where it's coming from.

I have never denied anything I have ever done in my past when asked about it, no matter how awful it was. Denial does no good, it just seems to make you feel like you have something to feel guilty about. Who needs that? I certainly don't. I have have done my share of rights, wrongs, and otherwise. Most people refer to their ghosts as skeletons in the closet. I don't for the mere fact that most of my "ghosts" refer to people that are still living. I won't name them by their given name, but I will give them a pseudonym so everyone can keep them straight.

I'm not sure why I'm baring my mistakes of the past for the whole world to see. I guess sometimes I find that people don't understand me, and maybe that's why. Seeing where someone came from, and the things they've experienced always helps someone else to see why that person is the way they are today.

I hope I don't bore anyone with this and if I do, well guess they can just skip these "ghost" entries. To be honest, I don't think I care if I bore them with the "ghost" entries. To truely appreciate where and who I am today, you must understand where I came from and the things I've done.