Sadness

Growing up, my family was absolute disorder and low-level poverty.  Mother was clinically depressed.  She slept something like 18 hours a day.  Maybe Dad was too, but he just watched t.v. all day and fought horribly with my brothers.  Cops were called on a number of occasions because of those fights.  Holes in the walls.  My parents refused to do things alone with one of them because they were afraid they would murder my dad.  My brothers hated me because I was his kid. They thought I was favored and spoiled.  But I would be spanked for things like using too much toilet paper or not finishing the dishes right.  I was called a hog in front of other family members, by my dad.

The house was disgusting.  My parents both hoarded, especially my mother.  I remember her forcing me to keep bags and bags of clothes that didn't fit or had holes in them.  She had dug them out of piles of discarded clothes from the charity shop.

The pets were eaten up with fleas.  They had infested the carpet.  Sometimes, in the summer, I would happen to walk across a spot of carpet that the dog had just been on and my legs would immediately be covered.  Lice was a problem for years.  I still have nightmares about lice. 

I was responsible to do my own laundry at 6.  I was responsible for myself entirely by then, to be honest.  My parents never taught me to properly care for myself, never looked in to make sure my clothes were clean or that I was keeping any semblance of hygiene.  And since my parents were heavy smokers, and the house was never cleaned, and the dogs/cats never bathed, I stunk.  I couldn't even understand why so few students would be friends with me.

I started struggling in school about 5th grade.  At that time, I would often come home and be told that we're going to my parents' friends' house.  My brothers were friends with their sons.  I didn't have any friends there, and there wasn't a quiet place to do homework, so it rarely got done, especially if I struggled with the material.  We would be there until 1 or 2 in the morning, would drive the 30 or 45 minutes home, and then have to get up at 7 the next morning for school.  I didn't understand how much that affected me at the time.

I wish I would've been a bit more aware, and a lot more brave to stick up for myself.  Wish I would've taken care of myself.  Even now, such a heavy sadness hangs over me when I spend too much time in thought of those years.