As I said in my pervious post, I was living with my grandparents who i seen and still see as my mother and father. Just before I started kindergarten, my biodad moved a few states away to North Carolina in 1989. I took it very hard and it was like a death to me. I only saw him once a year or so after that.
Then I started kindergarten in the fall of that year. I was scared to death and never was exposed to a lot of children before then. That same year my grandpa on my biomoms side got locked in his bathroom. It wasn’t a big thing but to my 5 year old self, it traumatized me somehow. I remember sitting in class and just peeing on myself because I was so afraid of getting locked in the bathroom (this phobia lasted until I was in the second grade). I had no friends and would often get screamed at by my teachers or put in the time out chair for things I didn’t even know I did. I wasn’t a violent child or purposely misbehaved. I remember sitting in the time out chair one time for something I didn’t know I did wrong and crying for my grandpa to come pick me up. These wasn’t for peeing accidents ether. I didn’t seem to comprehend the rules like raising my hand and i would constantly get up and set back down, scratching my crayons, talking to myself. I was a nervous wreck. I’d set there, alone, feeling out of place. It took a long time for me to adjust. That was my first school (I went to 12 or 13 schools in my lifetime)
Around this time, I was first introduced to Christianity by my biomom. She would but me these small comics that “explained” to me about God and Jesus. The entire thing just seemed bizzare but I had no choice to believe because after all, everyone else did. I remember her showing me this one comic book of a child starving in a box in the street, and then dying, going to heaven. At the time I thought people lived forever. After all I went though already, knowing that everyone was gonna die just added To the hopelessness. I thought a lot about heaven and what it would be like. To me it was kind of scarey because I couldn’t take the unfamiliar. Deep in my heart I felt it was wrong but figured it was right at the same time. My biomom would force me to go to church, taking me to these fire and brimstone houses of hate were the preachers would scream and yell like Hitler, screaming about the end of the world, a place called hell for “sinners”. I remember one time the preacher yelled THE WALLS ARE BURNING DOWN and remember looking in fear thinking they really was. I’d try to cover my ears to muffle the screams. No wonder I’m an atheist now.
The only good memory I have of that time is going to visit my biodad in North Carolina just after hurricane Hugo hit. I went down for a week and had a lot of fun. I got to see the downed trees and broken billboards. I remember seeing my biodad and my uncles dog Angel for the first time.
Until I was 6, I lived with my grandma and grandpa. Then a storm came in the form of my mother. She decided to swoop me up and take me to live with her. She lived a half a mile a way at the time but to me it was still devastating because I had no attachment to her whatsoever and wanted to live with my grandparents who took care of me. She made me switch schools for the second and then a third time during kindergarten. She wasnt mean to me at first and at some points acted like a real mom (as you will soon see, this won’t last for long). Also, during kindergarten and first grade, I’d get to go to my grandparents until she got off work. I’d still cry when she had to pick me up.
Ill write more later