Well 9th grade rolled around and back to gym class I go. UGH!! Do they ever not make you run a mile. Oh I hated it. But hey it was a Friday, maybe this weekend I could go sleep at my friends house since I pretty much spent most of my time there. Her family was nicer to me than my own. They always included me in everything.
Well that was the first weekend back in school, at least I had time to be me. I didn't get in trouble and was friends with most everyone. Ok I was friendly.
Trish had some errands to run that Saturday August 20th of 1990. So we ran around and did some shopping. We went everywhere. Luckily this time I didn't do anything to make her angry and it ended up being a pleasant time. I think she even bought me lunch. I couldn't wait to get home though so I could call my friends and go "hang out" that was the cool thing to do. I was too old to play now.
We got home several hours after leaving. I helped her carry all the stuff she had just bought into the house. After everything was put away, I went for the phone. But the light was blinking, that meant there was a message on the answering machine. (Yes, the kind that had a little cassette tape in them) Trish started acting as though she was one of my friends and said in a silly voice, "Julie this is your friend call me." I laughed and hit play. Only that was the message I wish that was left. It was my oldest brother Scott, he sounded so upset. He said, "Craig is gone. We lost him."
What does that mean? I was like no. My brother Craig had attempted suicide 3 times prior to this. He had shot himself in the face with a 30 ot 6 in October of 1989. He thankfully did not succeed. He again tried pills and whiskey and carbon monoxide. He finally succeeded by hanging. I cried my eyes out. How could this be? Why would he do this to me? He and my brother Larry were the only ones who loved me..
We got in the car and drove to my dads house which was about an hour away. I was somewhat pushed to the side. Julie is too young, she don't understand, she doesn't need to hear this. I was left alone at my dads house while everyone went to the neighbors to drink.
The next day we went to get my brother Larry. I was so excited to see him. He lived out of state at the time.
My brother Larry had an addiction to cocaine. He was shoved aside more than I was. He and I were very close however. Only he would never let me be around when he did his drugs or were around those "friends". I found out a little later that the night of Craig's services, my dad and Scott told my brother Larry, "It should of been you that killed yourself, not Craig."
I spent alot of time with Larry after Craig's passing. I told him all of the stuff that Trish had done to me. He told me hit her back. A few weeks after that, I went for a walk. I was upset about Craig and when I came home, Trish greeted me at the door, (I was 15) and she slapped me across the face and said, "You're nothing more than a fucking tramp." I never felt so much anger in my entire life. I just went for a walk. I don't know what came over me, but I took Larry's advice and I punched her right in the face and said, "don't you ever hit me again you bitch." I wasn't even scared of her reaction either. She just walked off. She never hit me again either.
Larry did tell my dad about what was being done to me and my dad just ignored it. Out of sight out of mind is how he seen things.
Eighteen months after we buried Craig, I went to my mom's ex boyfriends mom's house. I called her Grandma. I loved her, she was always nice to me and both her and Trish's ex boyfriend always stood up for me. Trish had called and my Grandma hung up and said, "Julie needs to go home now." I said, "I don't want too, I just got here I wasn't bad." Her ex boyfriend put me in the truck and started to drive. I looked at him and said, "Larry is dead, he killed himself didn't he." He said, "yes" Guess their wish came true. He had told Trish that he didn't tell me that I guessed. From that moment on, Larry's suicide was all my fault......That guilt ate at me for years.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Part 6
It was summer again and I was getting ready to go see my dad, only this time we were going to California. Oh my gosh I was so excited. We were going to see my uncles, aunts and cousins. We got on a plane and was ready to go. I don't remember much about these trips other than I would play with my cousins, and we would go to Fisherman's Wharf, Disneyland or Great America. But I was carefree and no worries.
Dad would take me in the summer so I wouldn't miss any school. He was a member of the Eagles and they too would have little summer excursions for the family. My dad sometimes took me. When we would get back from California, I would go to my brothers. He would take us to where ever he was living at the time and pile on the junk food and videos and we stayed there for a week or so (sometimes at my dads house, but with only us kids there), with him checking in on us periodically or to get us more junk food or new movies. When it was time to go home, again we would go to the bar so I could see my dad. I asked him if he was ever going to come spend time with me? He responded, "I will come down and see you sis." I don't think he did that year. He did a few times come visit but if I recall correctly he came down once or twice a year.
The school year had begun and I was in the 7th grade. We had to run the mile. Oh my gosh I hated running and especially a mile. I remember my back hurting really bad that day. (My back hurt a lot growing up. I am assuming from being thrown in to the walls and other things that happened growing up) I told my teacher my back was hurting and asked if I could make it up another day. She wouldn't let me and told me I had to run. I wasn't a fast runner but usually finished in the top 5 or 6. This time I was dead last. I was 20 minutes into my next class. I couldn't stand up straight, straighten my legs nor could I hardly move. I was running looking like I was sitting down. My gym teacher made me run until all my laps were done.
By the time I got to my next class, I had no feeling in my legs. My teacher asked me what was wrong, fighting back the tears, I replied, "my back hurts." She sent me to the office to call my mom to come get me. It took me 20 minutes to make that 1 minute walk. When I got to the office, I called my mom, she was busy and told me to grow up. She hung up the phone. I called several people until someone agreed to come get me. When I got home no one was home so I laid on the couch. My mom and her boyfriend came home and she yanked me off the couch I couldn't straighten up. It took me almost 30 minutes to get myself off the floor. I had to go the bathroom which was just 2 doors down and to get there and back took me over an hour.
I had called my dad when I got home before Trish did and told him, he said he was going to call her and make sure she got me into the doctor. After he called, she yelled at me for calling him and told me I was being a baby, but since he was calling back she would call a doctor.
The next day she finally took me and I was instantly referred to a neurologist and sent to the emergency room where the neurologist would meet us. He told me I was very lucky that at any given moment I could of been paralyzed from the waist down. I was no longer able to attend gym class until the end of 9th grade. I wore a back brace and went through extensive therapy for almost a year. Trish had told me I had scoliosis. I found out later in life that my spine is as straight as they come with no signs of ever having scoliosis. The few doctors I asked stated that my back may of been broken due to all the abuse.
Dad would take me in the summer so I wouldn't miss any school. He was a member of the Eagles and they too would have little summer excursions for the family. My dad sometimes took me. When we would get back from California, I would go to my brothers. He would take us to where ever he was living at the time and pile on the junk food and videos and we stayed there for a week or so (sometimes at my dads house, but with only us kids there), with him checking in on us periodically or to get us more junk food or new movies. When it was time to go home, again we would go to the bar so I could see my dad. I asked him if he was ever going to come spend time with me? He responded, "I will come down and see you sis." I don't think he did that year. He did a few times come visit but if I recall correctly he came down once or twice a year.
The school year had begun and I was in the 7th grade. We had to run the mile. Oh my gosh I hated running and especially a mile. I remember my back hurting really bad that day. (My back hurt a lot growing up. I am assuming from being thrown in to the walls and other things that happened growing up) I told my teacher my back was hurting and asked if I could make it up another day. She wouldn't let me and told me I had to run. I wasn't a fast runner but usually finished in the top 5 or 6. This time I was dead last. I was 20 minutes into my next class. I couldn't stand up straight, straighten my legs nor could I hardly move. I was running looking like I was sitting down. My gym teacher made me run until all my laps were done.
By the time I got to my next class, I had no feeling in my legs. My teacher asked me what was wrong, fighting back the tears, I replied, "my back hurts." She sent me to the office to call my mom to come get me. It took me 20 minutes to make that 1 minute walk. When I got to the office, I called my mom, she was busy and told me to grow up. She hung up the phone. I called several people until someone agreed to come get me. When I got home no one was home so I laid on the couch. My mom and her boyfriend came home and she yanked me off the couch I couldn't straighten up. It took me almost 30 minutes to get myself off the floor. I had to go the bathroom which was just 2 doors down and to get there and back took me over an hour.
I had called my dad when I got home before Trish did and told him, he said he was going to call her and make sure she got me into the doctor. After he called, she yelled at me for calling him and told me I was being a baby, but since he was calling back she would call a doctor.
The next day she finally took me and I was instantly referred to a neurologist and sent to the emergency room where the neurologist would meet us. He told me I was very lucky that at any given moment I could of been paralyzed from the waist down. I was no longer able to attend gym class until the end of 9th grade. I wore a back brace and went through extensive therapy for almost a year. Trish had told me I had scoliosis. I found out later in life that my spine is as straight as they come with no signs of ever having scoliosis. The few doctors I asked stated that my back may of been broken due to all the abuse.
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