Girls never lie boys never tell the truth.

[michelle2025]

My dad was a constable for our township. In case you don't understand, it was the lowest office, being lower than county government in the state of Minnesota. He also used the excuse that his fingers had gotten smashed while putting a belt on a thrashing machine, to get out of work. I don't recall what I was doing, but I was working alone and went to the house to get a drink of water. Unknown to me my dad was doing target practice in the house, using special plastic bullets in his revolver. I stepped into the house, turned towards the sink and got hit in the chest by a plastic bullet. It was very painful and stung. I turned around and walked out, without getting my drink of water. He never did apologize.

I sometimes wonder as this seems to be an era where movies show men being hunted by other men. Or maybe the gunfight out in the street.

At any rate, this could be a reason I get anxiety when I see a police officer at the fairgrounds.

 

[michelle2025]

Sometimes it may be best to check the past. My dad was born of German parents, so he would have the German traditions. I wasn't there so I am just guessing that there might have been beer served with the meal. Born in 1930, his parents were in their 40s when he was born, and he was the youngest of the family.
My mother was the opposite with anger towards her father for being drunk and she had to clean up after him. Picture the Irish female yelling at her father for drinking. But she is two faced, the subject of my dad drinking never comes up until after they are married. She then lays down the law, he is to quit drinking, and he says never, which leads to the evening arguments about his drinking. She claimed her ancestry as English, Irish, French, and Dutch. Just now wondering about her Ideas of being from the civilized countries, such that we had to learn the proper etiquette. Another thought about her continuing the war against the German every night.

 

[michelle2025]

My paternal grandfather accidentally lost his fingers climbing up the back of a Caterpillar tractor. At that time there would not have been rural electrical power, so that would have greatly affected how he would milk the cows.
My dad claims that his fingers got smashed while putting the drive belt onto a thrashing machine. Of course, since his fingers have been smashed, he is unable to help milk the cows.
If I was to claim my fingers had been smashed, that would be an insult, mocking my dad. And he would see right through the attempt to get out of work. One day my dad says to me, " I heard that someone at your grandma's house got their arm in the clothes wringer. Knowing you, you probably just kept cranking the handle." In my dad's era, the wringer had a hand crank. This one was mounted on the washing machine and powered by the electric motor.
The incident had been forgotten, until I read something about someone doing self punishment by putting their fingers into the wringer. That's when the nightmares began. In the nightmare, I am cranking something and there are fingers going through the gears. After several nights, upon waking, I wonder if it really happened. In my childhood the only crank I knew of was on the bale elevator.
Finally, I am able to figure it out. I have carpel tunnel because it was my arm that went through the wringer.
About ten years ago, I asked my mother about the wringer. Her response was that she didn't know who got their arm in the wringer. "It definitely wasn't you."

 

[michelle2025]

This one is about a death in the family. First a reminder that I was assigned male at birth. And the possibility that I also have Klinefelter Syndrome. Being the firstborn puts me in a unique position when the next born dies. That would made me the survivor child. I was 2 years old when this sister was born. I was told that she had been full term, but was small enough to fit in a shoe box. She also had the cleft lip and missing palate. She was born in December of 1952, in the house on the farm. I was told the she got pneumonia with her first breath.
I don't know what the temperature would have been, but my sister had to go to the hospital. That means getting a 2 year old dressed for the winter weather. I was also told that she lived for 24 hours.
When she dies, we will start the blame game, even though ancestry shows that there had been another baby death in my dad's family just 1 month before. I start to hear stuff like if she would have lived, she would have gotten the necessary operations, and you could sleep in the barn where you belong.

Then the replacement child. It kind of makes sense, where I am now treated like a girl. On the other hand, I may have been treated like a girl before my sister's death. I remember my mother saying that I would make a good house wife while I was sweeping the floor.
I referred to it as competing with a ghost, If she would have lived then she would have gotten straight A grades in school, so there is no reason you can't get straight A grades.
I think the replacement child can also be done by the grandparents. Perhaps with the result of me helping my grandmother wash clothes.

 

[michelle2025]

After graduating from high school, I later got into a trade school. After school I would go visit friends. One day my dad said he knew I was having sex with the girls I knew, and asked if I wanted to talk about it. I indicated no. The following week, I was accused of speeding with his pickup, and that I had been seen speeding. I was tired and wanted to get some sleep, and he was not accepting no for the answer. I finally said I might have passed a car. That was what he wanted to hear, and I lost my driving privileges. I often thought the two were connected. That I was being punished for not telling him the details of my sex life.

I later learned the speeding was a joke from one of his friends. But now I know it was an excuse that he had been looking for to punish me. Without my driving privileges, I could not go and visit my friends. The very idea that because I am a male I should tell him what kind of sex partners the girls are.
Had my dad been more observant, he might have seen how feminine I looked. Maybe he believed his own lies, I'm sure he used the situation to brag to his buddies how I had two or three girls around me. The truth is, I was not a threat to the girls, I was one of the girls.

 

[michelle2025]

Thinking that might be where the idea, "never admit you're wrong, it is a sign of weakness" may have come from. About the narcissist.
Another thing was the need to brag about something. The preteen child wins a pair of clamp on roller skates in a raffle. The roller skates disappear, but since nobody took them, she never had the skates. While her dad has friends over, she wanders into the man cave, where her dad is explaining to the buddies how, as a child, he won the skates in a raffle and skated up and down the sidewalk in front of his house. After he dies, her brother wants his dad's skates as a memento. The truth was that the dad never had skates as a child. The skates and the memories were stolen from the child.

 

[michelle2025]

I reserve the right to change my opinions when I learn new ideas that may change my perspective of how I was treated.

Yikes, a narcissist father with a badge and gun. Did he take the opportunity to prove that he could shoot me, because he had plastic bullets in his gun? Now it was no longer just a threat that he would shoot me if I turned out to be gay.
And if the bullet had been real, I had stepped in front of the target.

I'm not the narcissist, I'm the scapegoat. I'm also autistic. I am very confused, If I was born a boy then why do I look like a girl? And being autistic, I was a slow developer, meaning delayed development. For some reason my mother chose to put girl clothes on me. There could be all kinds of reasons. One being to punish a boy, make him wear dresses. And one thing the boy can't do is avoid being punished for being born a boy. Since I was the first born, I wonder where the dresses come from. Were they hand-me-downs from a girl cousin? If so, why would they be given to my mother to put on me? Did my aunts actually think I was a girl?

I think there was a scene in the movie "Robots" where he had to wear the hand-me-down top from a girl cousin.