The signs were there early on of my autism. I would cry when asked to do a simple chore because my tiny brain wanted to do it all instead of the chore asked. Clean your room meant all my toys had to be lined up together before being put away. There were others, But God had my back even then. He gave me a Mom who believed in schedules and I believe that is why I survived here as long as I did without any one knowing or seeking a diagnosis. Yeah, you read that right, here, I'm back home with my Mom, in the same house and It's an adjustment.
I am still learning about me daily. What makes me tick. Especially in the case of 10, 12 and 13/14 yr old me. My innocence was taken at 8. The person who took it should have never done that. He's dead. He was my father, I loved him, I feared him and I left home every chance I got because being "violated" hurt my senses of what was right, what my body didn't like and I remember laying down (this is at 10 yrs old, I lost my best friend Noel because I took her with me and her parents (I understand now why, forbid our friendship after that) in an abandoned house on the next street over in the arms of a grown man and not feeling fear. This man had never hurt me, I didn't feel he would and Thank all that is God that I was right, I believe he got us home though I don't really remember because the hurt/shock over losing Noel was the worst and that sticks out stronger even then the kind angel who watched out for us. I told him my real age (I didn't learn to lie about that for another year or 2) and my story of why the big bad streets were less scary then being at the house where I was supposed to be nurtured not raped. I told any one that would listen for that matter. Family members didn't help. I had to help myself.
I ended up 6 hrs from home by hitch hiking and ended up back at home and the loss of another friend Wanda. Fast forward almost 30 yrs and I got my dream come true to be back here again, to have a chance to build a relationship with my Mom, though each room has a memory, the room that will be mine is where my Dad shot himself to death and my sister and I cleaned up the mess, the mess that was his brains and skull, the mess that flashes to my mind every time I see that hole still in the ceiling. Another room is where he took my innocence, another is where he pointed a gun at us and threatened to kill us and I asked to use the restroom and just ran out of the house and to a friends, which I am sure saved us. We lost so many years together. I need a spot I can go to reboot though and that is what I am Praying for. My room to be cleaned out so I can get in there and start living life. I want to be inspirational to someone. To prove that suicide is never the answer. I have fought it for so long, and Saturday felt like a day that made this sucky life worth it. It was a normal day, Mom and I watched 2 movies and had fun laughing and having a meal together and I want more of that. But mostly I want to be understood.
I know I was going somewhere with this but it turned into a mish mash of thoughts that I live with. And now I am tired and don't want to ditch the post because I worked hard on it so for now, I will say, I am a survivor of abuse, misunderstanding and feel so displaced but I have Hope! and that is what will keep me going another day. xoxo, Kandi Ann
posted by Kandi Ann @ 4:13 AM
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