Well it has been a long while……….Living 5 1/2 months of the year in a cabin with no ability to have wifi, makes having and keeping a online presence difficult. I guess I should have looked at my last post before starting this one, but hell, I live off the cuff…so lets do this!
The LIVE televised hearings brought out SOOOOOO many emotions up from within me. A change needs to happen in the US and the segregated views present that many males seem to still have regarding females.
The comments rolling in during the hearings broke my heart. The idea that something that happened while in a person’s teens should be forgiven or forgotten 39 years later, boggles my sense of humanity.
To be perfectly honest, I have had 0 faith/trust (elders) in the justice system since age 5 and I’m 51 currently. The justice system has failed several of my siblings, other victims of my abusers, and me. Retrospectively, there were several opportunities when adults and or authorities could have saved me from more years of abuse, but they failed.
At the age of 8, I alerted a social worker that my 5 year old brother had been forced to live in a crawl space for months. given only bread a water once a day and having to relieve himself in a bucket. Police arrived at our home in Imperial Beach, California in what seemed like seconds. The whole thing must have just been a whirl wind for me, as I have only pieces of memory. Ms Katz was her name, the social worker. She was not even at the house to look in on me or my brother. My two new step-brothers had been abused by their birth father and Ms. Katz was on an unannounced visit that day.
My father was on a Navy ship tour in the Philippines and my step-mother had left the house only 30 minutes prior for some grocery shopping. As per usual I was charged with sibling care. At that time their were 5 children in the home, of course I was the eldest. The youngest was my little JoJo, only a few months old. The door bell rang and I prepared the scripted response beaten into my head by my father. Opening the door with my foot placed strategically to stop the door if pushed from the other side, I gazed at the well put together women in front of me.
I explained that my step-mom had gone down to the local store and would be back in moments. That of course was not the case. She had gone to the base to purchase food from the commissary and that would mean she would be gone for several hours. Ms. Katz had beautiful dark brown hair, that shined like glass. Behind her on the street curb sat her parked car. I imagined it was a fast car, because it was small with a sunroof (or moon roof) and the paint color was black or very dark blue.
At some point during our brief conversation the words she was speaking began to sound like the adults in the peanut’s cartoons. The only clear sounds I heard were the pounding of my heart and something telling me to show her Mikey. Fear of death or torture at my father’s hands, filled my mind. Before I could stop them the words spilled over my tongue, ” can I show you something?” I asked. The police arrived and took all my younger siblings away.
As I sat in the front seat of her car on the way to my first visit to the San Diego Children’s Receiving Home in HillCrest California. I felt like I was in a space ship, not a car. The seat was so deep, I could barely see out the window. So many controls and buttons. I had no idea what I was getting ready to endure, just as I thought I was safe………To Be Continued………..cjc
My goal is to help others by sharing my healing journey and mindset. I am all about total health and happiness. Please follow me on your favorite social media site @menopausemedic Thx