Between the ages of 8 and technically now at 41…(Aged out of system but still with foster mom) I’ve been in foster care.

That night I was separated and entered the foster care system, I went to a group home.

Can’t remember much from there. I stayed to myself and was very quiet. I didn’t eat much, but when I ate I used to sneak and hoard food in the room…and ate little by little at night when the lights were off. From early on I’ve had a survivalist mindset..and would try to ration food to prolong it’s longevity. I wasn’t use to eating much, nor seeing a well stocked refrigerator, and being fed 4 times a day.

It was very overwhelming, so was being around others constantly. I didn’t want to eat in front of others.. so I didn’t. I was small, quiet, and went unnoticeable..for the most part.. so I used to steal food from the cafeteria, wrap it in a bag or napkins and stuff it in an opening in my stuffed animal.

I was moved to several group homes before they found placement for me at the age of 10. I remember them telling me that I was going into a family setting. I was going to be placed with a husband, wife, and their two children. I was also told that they found my youngest brother, and he was in a placement home not too far from there. At this point I hadn’t seen nor heard from my brothers and mother in over two years.

I had mixed feelings. I really didn’t want to be placed. I felt comfortable and secure residing in a group home. I felt more grounded and not alone with people that had horrendous lives, and tragic stories and situations similar to mine. It was relatable. I understood their cries, their rebellion, their restraint, their grief, and most of all their pain. I was comfortable and familiar with the crying and yelling late into the night..I was comfortable and familiar seeing children lash out, harm themselves, and having to be restrained and sedated to calm down.

Pain has many names, forms and shapes.. I’ve seen and experienced many.

I met with the couple and their children once before being sent to live with them. They were on their best behavior to gain another victim. Once they had me, it was hard to let go.

I was almost age 10 and there for a year and a half…and every day both of them were very abusive towards me multiple times a day..

I was their punching bag, and child carer.

The couple would mostly stay up in their room with the door closed, and only come out to beat me, force feed me, cook or order for the kids, drive me to mandatory appointments with the foster system people, threatening me along the way.. They brought me their dirty dishes, soiled clothes, and made intentional messes for me to clean.

I was forced to care, entertain, and cook for their children ages 2 and 3. They made me pick them up from school. They made me bathe and dress them. They made me put them to bed. They made me put on and watch Disney cartoon movies with them nearly all day long..I had to sit there.

I’ve had terrible nosebleeds since I’ve been a small child, and I had a lot when I was residing there…and they would make me wear soiled, ripped, dirty clothes with spots all over them. They never brought me anything, and I was forced to go to school and other places like that. They refused to wash my clothes, so I did the best that I could to wash them in the tub. (Of course I was beaten when found out).

I had no school supplies and had to ask teachers if they could spare some things. I had no backpack, so sometimes I would use shopping bags I found on the way to school to carry things. I hadn’t any proper seasonal clothing. In the winter I didn’t have a coat. I had ripped lightweight things with holes in them. In the rain, I hadn’t an umbrella and would get drenched…and had to wear clothing from the lost and found.

The couple would verbally abuse and insult me as well. Calling me stupid, ugly, unwanted, unloved, that I’ll never go far in life, etc …

I began skipping school often. I would arrive at school, walk out, and sit in a park across the street from the school until dismissal. I would relieve myself in the bushes. There was a community center there that was mostly unoccupied, and I would steal food occasionally from there..

I started getting insecure and panicked being in the open, and worried about getting caught and beaten..but I didn’t stop for about a few months..

The classroom, the school work, building, and being around people was too overwhelming for me, that’s why I skipped. I also have been bullied and talked about in school most of my life, and junior high wasn’t an exception. They would call me weird, dirty, stinky, poor, told me I wasn’t loved nor wanted that’s why I was a foster kid, told me I deserved being abused, made fun of clothes and unkept hair, made fun of me when I spoke (I’ve had speech problems since I first began to speak), that I was quiet,

etc …

I stopped stealing from the community center, and started stealing from a nearby store, and I would use the loose change that I found in the park to enter the store, browse, steal, and purchase like 2 bags of potato chips ..but I would walk away with $30 worth of merchandise..

I would sit in the park and eat as much as I could throughout the day. I was at peace in the park. Away from the demands and expectations of school and home life. Temporarily relieved from the anxiety and PTSD attacks and flare-ups that l had been diagnosed and experiencing since I’ve been around 4 years old.

When I did make an appearance at school.. I wanted the bullying to stop and I wanted to be accepted and possibly be liked by the other children…so I would continue to steal from the store for them.

When they found I stole things, they use to give me lists and tell me what they wanted. I wanted to stop and felt incredibly scummy, regretful and depressed for doing so…but I felt enormous pressure and I was threatened to be beat up by and told on if I didn’t.

I had stolen twice for them before I was caught by the store manager. They called the cops, and foster parents. I begged and pleaded with them not to call foster parents, but they forced me to reveal their numbers. The cops came yelled at me, kept telling me I was going to jail, trying to encourage the store manager to press charges.

I was frightened.

They yelled at me even more for foster parents lackadaisical attitude and lateness. They didn’t come until 4 hours later. Police thought it was strange that they didn’t arrive sooner, especially when they told them I would be jailed if they didn’t come. .they found it strange that they arrived hours later, when they both were home having a day off from work ..and it was only a half an hour away.

When foster mom came, she was pissed off and very angry that she had to be bothered on her day off.. especially for me.

She yelled at me and smacked me in front of everyone. Even berated me. She told me that she was missing her soap opera because of me. That I was trouble from the very beginning and she was sick of me. That she doesn’t care, and the cops can take me to jail ..just so she’d be finally done with me.

She behaved like this in front of the cops and store manager….and no one helped me.

The cops took her to the side and spoke to her ..convincing her to keep me. She turned on the charm and told them she really did love and care for me ..that I was just a very troubled child and I wouldn’t let them love me ..that I acted out quite frequently and they were just exhausted and didn’t know how to help me.

Cops believed her . Even made me apologize to her, and thank her for putting up with me. Made me promise that I’d improve and start behaving.

Store manager felt sorry for me and decided not to press any charges. Told me I was banished from the store. To never come back.

Cops and foster mom decided for a punishment that I needed to be handcuffed, driven in the cop car to school, lead in handcuffs through the hallways and into my classroom…Made to stand in front of the class while the cops told everyone my crime, to keep an eye on me, to alert them if I was bad, and to never become like me. Then they uncuffed me, and made me stay in school.

I was very depressed and humiliated. The kids laughed at, and mocked me the whole day.

When I came home, I was beaten and bruised so badly that I had to miss a week of school..until the swelling and bruises went down…that I was presentable. They told me if someone were to ever call them again about me…they would unalive me.

Everyone knew about their horrific treatment of me and never did anything about it. The neighbors, the neighborhood children, their family members (they did it in front of them too, and their family would just watch), the state caseworkers, etc … They did nothing. The neighborhood kids my age would tell me that I should do everything they say, try not to tick them off, and eventually run away. The adults of the neighborhood told me that it was my fault, and I should learn to behave myself.

One time during the foster company annual mandatory picnic ..everyone around witnessed their wrath but did nothing.

I got berated, slapped, and yelled at because one of their children (still had to watch while there) ran into the street and almost was hit. I held their hands the whole time, but one got tired of me and staying in one place and bit my hand and had slipped away.

The other foster parents, the other foster kids, the employees and bosses of the company….

They all watched like it was ordinary and acceptable to see such a thing.

After the incident, foster mom was fuming and we headed home. She was upset and told me she I embarrassed and humiliated her in front of everyone. I was beaten some more at home.

I never had a personalized room of my own there. The room they gave me was a room where a lot of things were stored of theirs. There were clothes and things everywhere..and there was a small bed with dirty linen surrounded by clothes on hangers for me.

I never had many possessions nor clothes, so I lived out of the small supplied tattered suitcase provided by the foster company. Foster parents never provided me an option nor space to unpack.

Foster dad decided to stop beating me after awhile.

Foster mom never stopped.

One morning foster mom grabbed my throat and forced fed me the eggs she made. I didn’t like eggs, and I had an allergic reaction every time I ate them. .so I usually snuck them in a napkin and disposed of them later.

Foster mom must have found out. She stayed there and watched me. I didn’t touch the eggs..and this angered her.

She slapped me, called me and entitled ungrateful little shi@.. she came over to the kitchen chair I was sitting in… Backed the chair against the wall with me in it. Took the plate, grabbed my throat, forced me to open my mouth ..and shoved everything down my throat.

Kept yelling at me to swallow and not waste a drop or she’d ring my neck. I did, and before she dismissed me ..she said if she ever found wasted food in the garbage again, she’d make me eat the garbage, beat me, have her husband sexually assault, unalive and bury my body in their yard.

When her husband stopped beating me, she was angry, and started beating me more, and also started accusing me of having an affair with her husband, and always making eyes at him.

One morning before school, as I was getting ready…she charged in the room…picked me up by the throat, backed me up against the wall, started alternating between bashing my head against the wall, and choking me. This went on for about a half an hour before I lost consciousness and blacked out. Last I remembered before doing so was, my body falling to the floor, her kicking and spitting at me….and foster mom stepping over me and walking out.

They left me there. I came to about an hour or so later ..to her yelling at me to be ready in 5 minutes for school.

So, I went to school foggy brained, with bruises, (sometimes I was made to attend school with the bruises) a terrible migraine, and lack of concentration. I couldn’t concentrate and felt very unwell. I was excused from class, and was allowed to rest in the nurses office for the remainder of the day.

I told her I was feeling unwell and didn’t get enough sleep the previous night. That I felt like I was coming down with a stomach bug or flu.

My foster mom often visited her mother in a senior citizen complex and would make me tag alone. She lived on the 17th story in an apartment building.

Foster mom would threaten to throw or push me off if I misbehaved. She told me she’d get away with it too, because of all my problems and documented depression… she’d tell everyone that I jumped. I even was forced to write a suicide note, that they kept locked somewhere. She told me she could do just about anything to me and get away with it. They would tell people that I self harmed, and my bruises and cuts came from that.

During these visits, I was made to sit on the balcony, or inside on a chair in another room staring at a blank TV that I wasn’t allowed to watch…because they didn’t want to look at me.

Her 70 year old physically disabled mother used to berated me and treated me terribly as well. When they would go shopping, or different places, I was assigned the task of pushing the mother in her wheelchair, managing, monitoring her oxygen tanks. The both of them would yell at me, berated me, and slap me in public sometimes. I was not allowed in stores with them, they would make me sit outside and wait for them.

When they stopped at restaurants, I wasn’t allowed to sit with them. I had to take my food and sit alone at a table in the back of them. I wasn’t allowed to look at them, they told me to keep my eyes on my plate at all times…and they told me to only speak if I was spoken to.

One year, a birthday party for the children and for me due to appearances sake was held at her mother’s complex. They invited a neighborhood child around my age, to not arise suspicion amongst guests.

While there, they made me sit in another room away from everyone. (Told everyone I wasn’t feeling well). Made me come out of the room to watch their children open their gifts, and cut their cake. I sat in the usual chair and I was allowed to watch TV.

I was allowed cake..and they told people that I wasn’t to receive gifts, because I was on punishment for having terrible grades in school.

Foster mom mother had gotten me a backpack and electronic game …for appearance sake. Earlier that week, she yelled at her daughter and told her she’d better get me something because the school was getting suspicious.. especially when they saw the dirty grocery bags, and how I kept asking teachers for supplies.

She told her mother she wasn’t going to do so and that she’d just tell people during the party the punishment story.

So her mother did it.

Soon after I was reunited with my mother. She was allowed to call me, and allowed supervised visits at a public place monthly. My caseworker would take me to the visits.

We’d meet at a nearby McDonald’s. Each visit before I’d arrive, my mother would order food for me, and usually would have a bag of things for me. Ranging from coloring books, comic books, clothes, shoes, socks, accessories, hygiene products, snacks, homemade crochet and latch hook trinkets she’d make for me, etc …

Sometimes she’d have handwritten letters and notes for me. She would apologize profusely for the way things had turned out, she’d tell me that she loved us and was working hard to get us back. She was gainfully employed, attending therapy regularly, had friends, had moved and gotten an apartment, etc … Just making positive steps to improve her life. She told me that when she got us back, she would get a TV and have cabled installed on it for us.

The visit only lasted an hour and went by quickly.

I had mixed feelings about her re-entering my life.

I was happy and frightened to have her back into my life.

I was frightened that she’d be awarded custody, and things would go back to the way they use to be, or it would have probably gone worse. We were older now ( I had recently turned 11) my brothers were 13, and 17 years old now and we all hadn’t communicated, nor lived together in many years. They had still had built up resentment and still blamed my mother for everything….Learned later they were being horrifically abused and mistreated as well.

I didn’t even know my mother anymore. I didn’t know her personality, how she coped with life and stress. If she was braver and would fight back. If she was angered easily . If she had a short fuse…etc..

It wouldn’t have gone well. I also didn’t want us to mess up her life. She seemed to be doing better, and I know she would have backtracked.

She seemed excited and I didn’t want to ruin her optimism..and spoil things for her ..so I said nothing of my true feelings…and told her I was looking forward to it.

By now the foster parents became paranoid and very cautious…and didn’t beat me as often. They even let me keep the things my mom would gift me. . probably out of fear they’d be found out… especially if I was never seen in things she had purchased, and if the purchased items weren’t around when the caseworker did inspection…as she was aware of the gifted items.

They told me the gifted items would have been tossed and burnt otherwise.

During these times, I was allowed to accept her phone calls. The foster parents would tell me that if I ever told her about anything ,they would hunt her down, and make me watch them unalive her.

My mother suspected the abuse and wasn’t buying the stories they told her about me being clumsy and bruising easily. She would ask me repeatedly if I was treated well, and if they were hitting me. I would tell her things were okay and they weren’t abusing me.

I didn’t tell because I didn’t want my mother to be sad and possibly backtrack. I loved her and wanted to shield her from anymore pain.

My mother felt me wincing after a hug, and limping a little during one of our visits. .and soon after I was told that a social worker was coming to ask me questions in two weeks.

During those two weeks, foster parents became very paranoid and tried to manipulate and bribe me into not revealing anything.

They cleaned and cleared out the junk room given to me, brought a new bed and clean linen, had the television in that room fixed, told me that I didn’t have to watch their kids anymore, they didn’t beat nor yell at me anymore, I didn’t have to go with foster mom to see her mother anymore, they offered to cook/order any food I wanted, they also brought me new clothes.

They told me that they were very sorry and if I stayed and never told, things would be different. They told me they would never harm me again. That i could continue as they were the past week. They begged me not to tell.

A day later foster mom confronted and cornered me in the hallway and told me that she didn’t care if I told on them. That given my documented history, she would have a believable answer for everything. She told me she doesn’t care if I were to make it hard for her ..she said just don’t make it hard for her kids. That I wouldn’t want the kids to wind up in foster care, and lose their parents because I had told.

The social worker came and questioned them first, and me lastly. They told me that there had been reports of alleged abuse from neighbors and the school…They asked me if the allegations were true. I thought about the children, and told them no. That I wasn’t being abused, and that everything was fine.

Neither of us must have been convincing, or they brought foster parents lies about me being a troubled, out of control youth… A week later I was removed and placed….

To be continued ..

Thank you again for commenting, reading, and sending virtual love and support.