The reason I started this blog was to explore my mind, to put thoughts down….experiences….to explore my life.
I had a rough childhood, but lot’s better than millions of other sad children…and adults of my era.
I am not looking for sympathy or pity.
I think I’ve turned out okay, and I believe that this blog has helped me tremendously, more than you can know.
But y’all all know that I am honest and self-deprecating about my life. I do not have an embarrassed or ashamed bone in my body.
I write about the abuse I suffered as a child and my lost years of alcoholism with the intent that it is a healing process.
I put it out there for the world to see because keeping it inside only makes it rot.
I am only a man searching for more answers with few remaining questions.
There are millions of people that have it much worse than I and suffer daily, more atrocities than i can fathom.
But it happened to me…….
I thought it was bad enough at the time….
Now…..Our session begins……
I am lying on a couch in Dr. Freud’s office again….
I had another uh…..episode.
[Session begins…Tape starts recording]
Dr. F – “Are you comfortable?”
Me – “Yeah”
Dr. F – “I want to get into this new uh…episode that you have experienced recently”
Me – “Okay….”
Dr. F – “Where did you grow up?”
Me – “What’s that got to do with anything?”
Dr. F – stern look
Me – “Shiloh, Georgia” [scratches nose][fidgets on couch]
Dr. F – “That’s in the southern United States, right?”
Me – blank look [looks at exit door]
Dr. F – “Didn’t you tell me you grew up on a farm?”
Me – “Yes sir”
Dr. F – “What kind of farm was it?”
Me – “A hog farm”
Dr. F – “Did you like living on a hog farm?”
Me – “It was okay…I mean….It was alright….”
Dr. F – “How old were you when your father left you alone to tend the farm….the hogs?”
Me – “He had to go, he worked on the road in construction”
Dr. F – “….How old were you, when he left you and your mother on the farm?”
Me – “ 7…?”
Dr. F – “That’s kind of young don’t you think now?”
Me – “I don’t know……I guess…..but times were different back then. Dad had to go work”
Dr. F – “How many hogs were there on this farm?”
Me – [scratches nose] “…Oh….5-700 at any given time”
Dr. F – [making a note on his pad, scratches his bearded chin] “That seems like a lot for a 7 year old boy to take care of alone”.
Me – [shrugs indifferently] “Dad had to go to work….”
Dr. F – “Didn’t you have any friends, neighbors or family members to help you?”
Me – “Yeah, but no one had to help me. It was my job and they was busy”
Dr. F – “Did you have a best friend?”
Me – “Yes sir…[fidgets]….Ricky Moore….he lived at the end of our dirt road”
Dr. F – “How old was he….7 also?”
Me – “Oh no….he was like 12 or 13”
Dr. F – [looks at me with a puzzled glance] “That’s kind of old to be a best friend for someone your age?
Me – “Maybe….but him and Trent was the only boys close by that I could play with’ [scratches thigh]
Dr. F – “Trent….? He wasn’t a best friend?”
Me – “No sir…..He couldn’t because he was a nigger”
Dr. F – [fidgets][scribble scribble] “Who told you he was a….Negro?”
Me – [puzzled look] “He was black….You could see he was a nigger, I ain’t had nobody to tell me.”
Dr. F – “How old was Trent?”
Me – “I don’t know, same age as Ricky….but not as big as Ricky”
Dr. F – “What did you 3 do for fun?”
Me – [rolls onto right side and pulls knees up to chest and starts tracing lines on the floor with a finger]
Dr. F – “Didn’t you guys have fun?”
Me – “Well…..I guess we did sometimes….swimming and stuff”
Dr. F – “You don’t look like you had much fun….”
Me – [stares at finger tip stopped, starts retracing lines in reverse]
Dr. F – “Well…..?’
Me – [says just above a whisper] “They used to hold me down and make me suck their… You know…”
Dr. F – blank stare [regains focus, scribble scribble]
Me – “They said they’d kill Toby my dawg if I said anything”
Dr. F – [scribble scribble scratch brush away scratch]
Me – [tracing big circles] “They was too big, Ricky could hit real hard”
Dr. F – [looks up] “You fought back?”
Me – “I tried to, but they was too big”
Dr. F – “How long did they make you…..perform this act?”
Me – “Until they…. Was…. You know…. Until they… finished”
Dr. F – [pauses, looks up with a grimace] “I meant, how long in days….”
Me – “I was 11 when we moved”
Dr. F – “So…..It lasted about 3 years.” [scribble]
Dr. F – [hard stare scribble hard stare scribble scribble]
Me – “Trent said I was gonna have a baby one day and Ricky hit me in the stomach and made me puke then he say “No he ain’t”
Dr. F – [lips moving, wipes sweat from eyebrow scribble scribble]
Dr. F – [looks up] “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” “Why didn’t you tell your father or mother?”
Me – “Because I promised…..and they said they was gonna kill Toby”
Dr. F – “Don’t you think your father would have stopped them?”
Me – [looks at doctor as if though he had lost his mind] “I couldn’t tell him that stuff…!”
Dr. F – “Why not…?”
Me – “Cuz he was always mad when he came home ‘cause he said he couldn’t save no money having to send it all home to us all the time”
Dr. F – “He was mad all the time…?”
Me – “Yessir, when he come home he’d count the slices of baloney and put a pen mark on the milk jug to make sure we didn’t drink none while he was gone”
Dr. F – [long stare…then, scribble scribble]
Dr. F – “What about your mother?”
Me – [rolls back onto his back and stares at the ceiling fan….spinning….spinning]
Me – “She just laid on the couch most of the time and yelled about us cleaning up or getting out of her house”
Dr. F – “What do you think about …Ricky? “….And this Trent now that you’re a grown man?”
Me – “Ricky got killed in prison I heard, I ain’t got no idea about Trent”
[Pause in audio, pen scribbling, fan spinning] woop woop woop
Me – “I don’t think I’m mad, it was different back then, nobody said anything about mess like that, besides, I don’t remember much about it anymore” [corner of mouth twitches, scratches nose, scratches thigh]
Dr. F – “Are you angry towards them….your parents”
Me – [looks at doctor] “Why’d I be mad at them?”
Dr. F – “Because they didn’t stop those 2 boys from hurting you”
Me – “They was busy all the time, they didn’t want us coming in and out all damn day long crying about a skint ass knee….”
Dr. F – “Didn’t you think your father could stop Ricky and Trent, didn’t you think he was “BIG” enough?”
Me – [Wide eyes] “Oh hell yeah, Daddy could beat the hell outta them! ”
“He made me bleed all the time….”
[Session concludes as tape ends]