Last night Coal Miner and I were watching Intervention b/c its the best reality show on television, hands down. But anyway, we're sitting on the couch, watching the show and wincing at every hit this woman takes from her crack pipe. I swear to the heavens above, and my friends agree, this show teaches you exactly what not to do as a parent. Should you be on the lookout for a parent's manual, you could instead just watch 16 and Pregnant (look to the parents not the knocked up girls), Intervention, and Teen Mom. I'm absolutely certain you'll have a fairly good idea what NOT to do as a parent. I mean the ridiculous "woe is me" stories that come out of these people's mouths is just beyond me most episodes. Honestly did you really think that smoking crack for 30 years, while you were pregnant, wasn't going to affect your children. You are surprised they want to kill themselves? Jesus lady, catch a clue.
Anyway, that isn't the point of this post. The point of this post is that I can almost relate to these people. No I have never smoked crack, nor have I been addicted to anything, besides my Gucci bag, so calm down peeps. I just find that like 90% of the people who are completely eff'd in the head have been abused as children. Did you notice that as well? Believe me I realize that children who have been abused are traditionally not going to make it very far in life. Its a fact people, read a sociology book. Back to the point Megan, back to the point, FOCUS.
Okay so if you didn't know, and most people do, when I was in middle school my friend's father exposed himself to me. I should have known it was coming. He would always make inappropriate comments about my shorts, graze his hand on my butt, rub my thigh, just an uncomfortable situation all around. I thought I was imagining it until another friend of mine mentioned she thought he was creepy. I agreed with her, but we didn't talk much about it. One night I was over there with a group of my girlfriends (I thought I was safe in numbers, boy was I wrong) and he started drinking. He allowed us to drink a little and then he started in with his weird comments about my short shorts and nice legs. I went to use the restroom (hall bathroom) and he had just gotten out of the shower (I heard the water stop). He called me into his room. I told him I would wait in the hallway and asked him if he needed something or needed me to get him something. He told me that he just wanted to show me something special. I told him I was more than happy hanging out in the hallway and he could show me later. I could hear his voice getting closer so I started down the hallway. He called my name out from his bedroom door. I was halfway down the hallway and I turned around. BAM there he was, opening his robe and showing me his wang. Seriously dude? Seriously? I'm 12. I whip my body around, scurry into the kitchen with everyone else, and then beg my friends to call their mom to come and pick us up. She does call her, she's coming, I'm safe. I thought. I tell my girlfriends on the way home what happened. They can't believe it until one of them says "he did it to me too." I thought she was kidding, she wasn't. So then the parents found out. I was interviewed in Middle School by social services and the Virginia Beach police department. They asked me if he was hard. I didn't even know what that meant. I had no idea if he was excited or not. Let me remind everyone, I'm 12, I've never even kissed anyone before.
Anyway, the point is, this was seriously traumatic for me. I blocked it out of my memory for years. I went to court, he was let go (and later arrested and put in jail for extortion...ahhh karma is a bitch isn't it?), I was damaged. Damaged for a very very long time. I ruined this girl's life. I ruined her family. It was my fault, I could have prevented it. I should have stopped going over there. I shouldn't have told anyone. I created a huge mess. Why me? Why then?
So, I had sex too young. I drank too young. I smoked weed too young. I was on a war path and no one could stop me. Not my parents, not my friends, not anyone. I wasn't bad. If you ask my friends I was just like all of them. I just wasn't me. I look back now and think I wouldn't have been as "bad" if that hadn't happened. Maybe I'm looking for an excuse for my behavior. But I really think things, think I would have been different.
So you can see why maybe I relate. I didn't turn to a life of drugs or tricking myself out. But I did blame myself. Even though I finally realized, much later in life, it wasn't my fault. He was creep. He was pedophile. And if given the opportunity he would have tried to hurt me. I was a child. How can you do that to a 12 year old girl? What a fucker. However I realize it could have been A LOT worse. I thank God for giving me enough sense to haul ass down that hallway and never look back. But I can't knock these people for their addictions if they have a demon from much earlier in life. You don't admit it until much later. You never talk to anyone about it until its too late. And believe me, no one believes you at the time. So if they are looking for something to mask those memories, who am I to judge?
People say it all the time, but I believe it to be true - be careful when you judge, you never know what someone else is going through. Keep that in mind folks. Keep that in mind.
As a side note - Coal Miner just said to me "Man...I'm glad you're over that and not afraid of my wang. That would suck." He's so dreamy isn't he?!?! *laughing*
1 comment:
well. so that was cheerful.
and i agree with your point. but it's kinda difficult, sometimes, to have a heart for people. Like for the guy who showed you his wang.
i mean, sure, he was damaged goods. But at some point we are all responsible for our behaviors and for how we treat other people.
Flat Stanley easily forgives the prison-guys she's worked with, but it is oh-so-much harder to forgive personal contact, so she keeps working on it. Sorta.
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