Being young I didn’t know who my father was until I was 4 or 5 years old. Gaining a clearer memory at that time I had a lot to remember. My mother divorced my father when I was only 3 years old, and only knowing the man she was with I thought that he was MY father. Growing up I was very confused & a bit sad, something grown ups had a hard time listening to because what can I say, adults can be very selfish. My father would visit but it was awkward with the new hubby. A year later we move from Georgia to Alabama into a nice two story house. Everything felt okay. It felt stable. 2 years later, I didn’t see my new father anymore. I remember my favorite babysitter she was so nice to us. I stuck up for her when my older sister was telling her to get out. She always seemed to have better judgement than me, because turned out that baby sitter ran away with our new father & left our mother to fend for herself. I hated them both for it. Adults, especially these ones were so selfish. It was on the news, “HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT RUNS AWAY WITH TEACHER.” I guess they knew each other more than I thought. It seemed like the whole town pitied us. I felt it in the house, it felt lost, alone, cold. I don’t know how my mother did it, but she made it through. We would visit them, and I would ask questions as to why they did what they did & they would get angry, of course they would, they we’re selfish assholes, what selfish asshole wouldn’t. They wanted to tell themselves that they did nothing wrong, but I was at that house I saw what actually went on. I saw my mother cry, I saw her start smoking, I saw her stop eating, I saw her stop cooking , I saw her..! Their denial killed me a little more inside. I really hated them for that. My mother met a man, a very selfish man. I never had 1 conversation with him in the 10 years she was with him, because I hated him. He stressed her out, while she was going through her stresses. Trying to be a mother with a piece of shit is close to impossible. But she tried but it wasn’t good enough. By the 5th grade instead of getting rid of that cock sucker, she got rid of us. We went to the teacher and the babysitter’s home. They were married with one child now. I always felt awkward and angry seeing them happy in their new home, while my mother was still in the dumps, they made an empire together. I hated them for that. Although her family finally “forgave them” and allowed them back into their lives. I hated the fact that this was the best home I’ve ever lived in. Not my mother’s & not the attempt of my “I don’t even know what” father. But their home. The home they built together after my mother worked full time with no time or money to find a babysitter, that fucking home they built while my mother was in the hospital after cockless fuck head beat her to the brim, the home they built after suicide attempts, police phone calls, going back and forth to the shit head that almost killed her. That fucking home. For being a solider in the war you would think that a man that could fight for his country would also fight for his family. No, not in this case. He would allow a woman to do all the talking for him. Just like my mother he was too busy trying to make a romantic relationship work over a relationship with his daughters. I hated them both for that. 2004 was the year I was “banished” from the Corker palace. Sure I was a little shit back then, could you blame me? Nope, but my sisters sure did. I don’t blame them though, it’s not there fault we we’re all a bunch of assholes. But they just couldn’t “take it” any longer, & I understood but next time DON’T TAKE ME TO A HELL HOLE AND TELL ME IT’S BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME! Being back with my mother & that good for nothing psycho did something to my mind. You start to really notice things about your life, that you could no longer ignore. But now you know, and it sucks because you realize your life is really fucked up. Being a teenager and growing up in a town called LaVergne doesn’t help your cause. They feed you shit so then you turn into shit. You’re health plan consists of Rx pills 1, 2, & 3. So there’s no healing, there’s no redemption, there’s no transformation from caterpillar to beautiful butterfly. In a town like LaVergne you’ve got to really find your healing place. Where’s the parks and good foods at? Where’s the community at? Why is there trash everywhere? Why are the cops so corrupt, why are the buildings run down? Why doesn’t anyone see this? Do you see what I mean? You eat shit, you become shit, you do shit, you become worse shit. And that does not inspire me. But finally! 🙂 and this puts a smile on my face, mom finally left that fucking sonfoabitch!! WOOOOHOO! Where’s the party balloons?? We need party balloons! And we moved to Seattle. This is where I’ve learned holistic care and what good foods to eat, being myself and how to live again. This is where my life really started. Celebrating Year One.