I don't know why I can talk about the sexual abuse and not about the horrendous surrounds that I grew up in. It was unbearable from the start. Tiny little shack with outhouse when I was born. Back in that time - late 50's and through the 60's. ice cold potty trips became a thing of the past since we finally got an indoor toilet. The house never, ever saw a drop of paint. There was tar paper that covered the shack, unfinished, nothing over it. What should have gone over it I think was a layer or two of insulation, then boards, then paint?
The shack itself was sitting on cinder blocks that I suppose was suppose to be the 'foundation'? The ice cold air blew right under the place. During those days there were ice sickles from roof to ground. 'Grapes of Wrath' a girlfriend said when she saw the only picture of the place. The tar paper was shredded and hung by wisps after a few short years. Very little was left of it by the time I left, which was an escape at 17. Doesn't everyone get married at that age? No, I wasn't pregnant. I was in 'love'. We had a big wedding, all my high school friends were invited, and it must have cost so much. Damn, it's all so sad to me, because in retrospect, it was an escape. That's all it amounted to. He was a nice man too. I'm the one who was messed up. I still feel bad about that.
I pretty much up and left all the kids I'd know since kindergarten, moved to nearby town to graduate early. I was instantly popular because even though I was 17, I now could get booze. Hubby could supply it. So new friends thought I was the cat's meow because we had Tequila Sunrises's before school. It made perfect sense to me. I was so happy for awhile. I had a new washer and dryer, I had new everything. We didn't have to use the oven as the only source of heat. I found out there was a thing called central air.
We never had a lawn, and I learned from older siblings we lived like no one else we knew. We were 25 miles out in the country. When I started kindergarten, the same year the sexual abuse started from my loving grandfather, I noticed other houses were painted, had lawns, even fences and gates, nice things around their places, and I knew right then I was less than. Some had an upstairs, and basements. And trees, and flowers, and gardens. Their places were nice and neat. I was embarrassed at 5 years old. I had a load of secrets to hold close now. Secrets of all kinds. Too many grown-up secrets for one little person.
I wasn't an outcast as you might expect. My Mom did what she could because most everything was out of her control. My dad was a bully, verbally abusive to her, the kind I ended up with in every relationship I had. Only some of mine were physical to being threatened w a gun. I was dressed impeccably. I was told to be a good girl and smile at everyone. I smiled til my cheeks hurt. I had very good grades. But I always had my bigger than life secrets which only multiplied as the years went on.
