(1)
Even now, I can’t distinguish nor decipher if being removed from my abusive foster parents was for the best. A life of abuse and neglect of all sorts ..It’s all that I know. It’s all that I will ever feel familiar and comfortable with. It’s all that I can primarily relate to. Even when I display and tap into my emotional , vulnerable self and consciousness.. it is foreign to me. I am detached . I hate my sensitivity.
I dislike my ability to care. I wish to not take ownership. I get jealous when I hear of people with what I deem as truly tragic. I don’t feel like I’ve been through enough to qualify to complain and burden with my story.

There’s no point in my denial.

I will continue to allow others to stab and throw me on the thorns of rosebuds. I will forgive and thank them. I will hand back the impaled spear lodged into my sternum, ask for an encore, impatiently wait while I direct them to puncture and obliterate major and minor vessels and organs. Missed a spot.

Sometimes I feel grateful and view my extensive knowledge of trauma. I wasn’t a disillusioned whimsical child.. I was overly prepared for the world, and yet I lack knowledge. There’s unpreparedness.

Life is just about survival and waiting out a long jail sentence. Crimes, I’ll perhaps never fully know. The verdict guilty.

Atonement perhaps never universally and cosmically.

I believe we all have the lives and outcomes that we deserve. Stuck here until it takes us.

I believe our individual lives are designed and preplanned. It can never be proven what influence and control (if any) we individually have to manipulate and to what degrees.

Something or multiple designed and tweaked this life for me. I have no choice but to follow through.

A time before leaving foster parents. Their violence included sexual. They started making me watch adult entertainment with them. Asking me how I felt about what I was viewing and if I liked it.

Another time, the oldest child (3 years old) would approach me in a sexual manner. He would tell me that I was sexy, and would attempt to touch me Inappropriately. One time I was sitting in the room, the 3 year old barged in and acted as if he wanted a hug. I told him okay, and I reached down to do so and he kept gropping my breast, climbed on top of me, and told me to touch his genitalia.

He kept trying to move my hand there.. I was resisting and swatting his hands away, trying to get him off of me. A short time later, I look up and foster mom was standing in the doorway just watching, with a smirk on her face.

A few minutes had gone by before she finally collected him. I was expected to be beaten, blamed, and reprimanded.. but she didn’t that time.

I am positive that if I hadn’t been removed, they would have started sexually assaulting and passing me around to their family and friends. There were a bunch of men and women they were friends with who use to come sometimes visit and drink. Sometimes they would give me inappropriate looks and make inappropriate gestures in front of me.

I heard a nephew of theirs who visited them often, once ask them when I would be ready.

Years after I left, I ran into an ex neighbor who told me that my former foster parents remained enrolled in the fostering program, and continued to foster. The program continued to give them more children.

During the time I was at former foster parents, the program offered all the foster parents paid vacation days annually. Any other time any wanted to take time off from the foster children, they received no pay, and any additional costs were out of pocket.

So when the foster parents wanted time off, they would have to call the program, and the program would call back with a list or just one approved temporary foster parent to house the child.

I hated these times and was always anxiety ridden. I never knew who I was going to be paired with.

Once, they sent me away because of a family reunion for the weekend. During that time, I was paired with my current foster mom. She was glad to have me and very welcoming.

I have always been a generally quiet person, so I didn’t speak much ..and I answered and responded to questions how I was taught by former foster parents.

Head down, don’t make eye contact, unless spoken to my only responses were limited to uh huh (yes), and uh un(no) unless a larger response was required, I could respond but I had to keep my head down.

It was a new overwhelming experience for me. I had a room with no clutter, working appliances, bureau and closet space, a queen sized bed. I was asked and provided what I preferred to eat. I had free range of the house, and access to the kitchen anytime. I tasted food that I’ve never experienced before. I had home cooked meals,

She was going through trying to find a permanent placement to reside with her. After the weekend was up, she told me my former foster parents and the program that she enjoyed having me there, that I was well behaved, and if I ever was available for placement to let her know and she would house me.

After I was removed from former foster parents home, I was told that my new placement was the woman I had stayed with. I was told that she wasn’t ready for me to come yet because she was away visiting family for two weeks, and I had to go into temporary placement until she returned.

So, I was placed. My temporary foster mother had a lot of health issues and she was fairly disabled. She had a food addiction as a life coping mechanism..and she was morbidly obese. I would say an estimated 550 lbs. She was married, but I had only seen him once or twice the entire visit. He would give her an injection of insulin in her stomach, and had given her meals during those times.

I was made to be her caregiver and was to make sure her insulin was given. She took over the insulin injections when I couldn’t do it properly.

She wasn’t satisfied with my caregiving skills and often berated me. I use to have to empty and wash her portable toilet without gloves. I remember her relieving herself one day, and she made me empty it right away because she had a bowel movement. I remember it wouldn’t empty into the regular toilet, and having to use my hand to maneuver it.

After it was emptied I washed my hands thoroughly, and I washed the pot too. Temporary foster mom didn’t think it was satisfactory, called me stupid, and made me rewash it.

Unless she needed something, she never bothered with me. She slept a lot, ordered in and sent me to a nearby store often, and stayed in her room all the time. So I was left to my own devices a lot. I use to just watch TV, or observe people from the window.

One time I had a mandatory doctor’s appointment, and unbeknownst to me she had a car…so she had driven me there. I was frightened and afraid, because the car dragged and buckled from the added weight. She was breathing heavily, and I was tightly squished in. The steering wheel rested very tightly accross her stomach and barely turned.

So we arrive there, and she tells me go inside and check in. I did as instructed. They wouldn’t let me be seen nor allowed me to be inside there without a parent or guardian since I was a minor. Temporary foster mother couldn’t accompany me because she couldn’t get out of the car, and it would have been too much on her to endure the visit.

I was really embarrassed and upset.. because it took a lot and a lot out of me to interact with and be in the presence of people. Also I felt very sad for temporary foster mom, and her dire state. I felt sad because I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to be optimistic about a better outcome for her. She had reached the end.

I told temporary foster mother, and she was angry. She told me to come along, don’t worry about it, and we’ll reschedule. We never rescheduled.

Shortly after that, my two weeks were up, and it was time to begin a new journey…which ultimately turned out to be very familiar..

To be continued….
Thank you for reading, commenting,the virtual love