My Past

A willingness to be open about myself and a journey to find out where I strayed from the path and how it happened…Chapter 1

Treyzguy

Regret: Chapter 2

My Castle: Chapter 3:

A Place In The Light

Toby

As My Pen Gently Weeps

R.I.P Kyrie Jacobsen

Sun Flyer

Trenches

Dark Path

 

So how am I gonna start this…

I guess you could say, or not, since you weren’t here with me during my life, that all people have their own struggles and until recently, very recently that is, I was not aware there were other beings on this earth and never paid them any attention.

I love life….        I just wish it would love me back sometimes.

First things first…

I loved my parents very much.Image

We don’t talk to each other anymore…

Well, my Dads dead….So he has a good reason to not call.

He drops into my dreams now and again….

It’s always good to see him.

You’ll see this is a prevalent “thing” with most of my family. It’s understood that we all love each other, thought of daily, we evidently don’t need constant contact, and generally ignore each other…at least that’s my end of the stick.

The older you get, the more you realize that this is bogus.

You need family always… it’s all we have…some of us.

Some not it seems.

YAY ME!!

I miss my dad very much. He died in 2001.

The same year as Dale Earnhardt.

I lost both my heroes in the same year.                                                                          

I was born in Biloxi, Mississippi on September 5th, 1964 on Keesler AFB.

I don’t remember much about it though, I was still young…

I don’t even know how long I was in Mississippi with my parents. My mom never said and I don’t remember asking.

My dad was an USAF airman that was working with early radar systems and my mom was just a little Cajun girl.

She was born in Sulphur, Louisiana on October 10th, 1947. So that means she was almost 17 when I was hatched.

My dad always told me they found me by the railroad tracks eating spiders…?

Sometimes I wish that were true.

Unique….

My dad was born in Edison, Georgia, on May 1, 1942, so he was…what…22 then?

Close enough.

One thing my dad’s younger siblings and assorted cousins mentioned (when pressed) was that his dad (Pawpaw) was extremely hard on him.

He beat him with boards or fishing poles, practically anything he could grab at the time but, of course, others beg to differ on the severity of these punishments.

It was a different time then.

Probably these days my Pawpaw would be doing 5 to 10 at the state work farm for child abuse.

My dad, the younger, was skinny with a square head.

He was the secretary of his FFA group that went to the Kansas City Convention and the 1959 Florida State horseshoe champ.

He played his best horseshoes when he was drunk. He was an intense competitor (he didn’t care if you were 3 years old or not), and he was a terrible loser.

Terrible….Loser.

This made it all the sweeter to beat him…But I can’t remember ever doing it or seeing it done…

But when he was deep in his cups and drinking liquor, that’s where B.C lived;

In the dark place.

You didn’t beat B.C…at anything.

Not if it killed him….

Granny (his mama), always said she thought, that dad was never the same after he got “those shots” while in Air Force basic training. I think he went through the training in San Antonio, Texas.

He wanted to go to college for Journalism, but ended up as a pipefitter/welder.

The paths we choose…. C’est la vie!

He smoked 3 packs a day, drank a lot of coffee, and was EXTREMELY high strung!

Drinking made him mean (that’s where B.C lived)…in the dark place.

He was, early in my life, (until I fled ‘home’ at 16)…in my opinion and recall, abusive.

Both mentally and physically…to me

Their Dad was different from mine…but the same guy.

Know what I mean?

He was holier than thou, manipulative, insulting, and had a God complex.

He was extremely intelligent and knew it.

BC did not suffer fools.

He had no use for others he considered “culls”.

He had little patience with anyone over the age of 16… no one more than me.

When you ask my uncle and others, that were in “the know”… ask him/them how I was treated as a kid…his/their faces get very dark with very few kind things to say about his/their beloved older brother/nephew/cousin.

Dear old dad.

Another thing that baffles some people not directly related to the family is that children adored him.

So did I… Even through all the crazy times.

For all the bad times, he was still my dad.

He did throw balls with me, took me fishing occasionally, and I remember going hunting with him twice.

We chased stray chickens at the Cagle’s plant…Now that was fun.

Oh yeah…he bought me clothes and fed me…plus a house or 4.

I was an ungrateful tyke.

2

 I remember good Christmases…

There was a model jet that made smoke and screamed… a G.I Joe with kung fu grip and underwater gear, a BB gun, a Swiss Army knife, and a .410 shot gun.

GOTTA LOVE US REDNECKS HUH?!

He was also a very good guitar player and singer and actually recorded a record. He was on local T.V and radio.

I don’t remember him once sitting down and teaching me chords. I learned by watching.

I taught myself the guitar, drums, bass, piano and trumpet.

Mostly I learned from watching the musicians around him.

I guess I wanted to show him I could do it, or…just because I was interested in learning them at that time.

I can’t remember.

Lots of childhood memories are lost I’m afraid.

I don’t believe I ever really tried to learn anything special or do anything where his scrutiny could possibly be involved.

 I did not test those waters.     

Anyways, not beating my poor old Dads memory…Change of thought process for a second…

My mom says I used to take the blame, or something like it, for my brother and sisters, to protect them from punishments.

She said that I used to wake my brother up at night after an accident, and change his sheets, so that he wouldn’t get in trouble the next day.

The only way I remember these things is by people telling me about it.

But I was also cruel to my siblings.

Figure that….

Love and pain…….I still can’t understand why.

Don’t get me wrong…I love them all fiercely… But I was hateful and abusive to them.

I was acting out people may say now…

I just wanted to hurt something…

I was only a kid myself…..

Their Dad was different from mine…but the same guy.

 Know what I mean?

I can never forgive myself for that stuff though….

I didn’t know how to be then.

I was one messed up little boy…you’ll see later.

My examples in parenting were poor indeed.

Don’t get me wrong, I am aware that all Moms and Dads are human too and have their own faults, issues…baggage?

They can’t shoulder all the blame.

Speaking of which, I have not been a positive role model toward my own progeny, by any measure.

A good example of what NOT to do you might say.

(Extremely immature and naïve am I)

 I didn’t even start to gain any semblance of maturity until I reached my early 40s’ for crying out loud!

 I swear it runs in the males of this family! 

I made horrific decisions (meant well), was irresponsible (meant well), and a terrible liar.

Telling people what they wanted to hear, so not to disappoint or hurt them.

I thought…..

In all honesty…It was to keep me out of trouble or shine in their eyes.

I was just a kid then…

The lying continued.

In my misperceptions and distorted way of coping, I was sparing them and myself I guess.

I never considered that it hurt them more to be lied to, or else I just didn’t care.

A little bit of both maybe….

What a bastard I must be…here…in this awake place.

I was unaware, or probably couldn’t have cared less about these consequences… I really can’t say.

Thinking about it now, this path was influenced by my parents.

I called it “self preservation”…

To lie, or get the shit beat out of me. 

Most times over nothing…NOTHING!!!

Lying was a crutch for me…a tried and tested action that lasted way after leaving home.

But lying is a very, very bad habit.

I found out too late that is a terrible thing not to be trusted… It is almost impossible to regain trust…

You never can completely.

A boy crying wolf….

Alas, accepting ones faults, putting them behind you, is the road to redemption and peace of mind and soul…

A possible awakening….

Anywho…..

I remember times that my dad could be very cruel to my mom.

I don’t remember any physical abuse, but definitely mental.

He spoke down to her a lot… said she was worthless and other ugly things. 

Then, he would switch (snap!) just like that, and be very loving toward her.

It depended totally on his moods or the blood level in his alcohol.

There were many moods in the dark place where BC lived.

Weird it was.   

Their Dad was different from mine…but the same guy. Know what I mean?

I also remember mom making us pack our clothes in garbage bags a lot, because we were going to leave… go anywhere, “I can’t take it anymore!” She’d scream.

I don’t remember if we ever did.

It never happened when I was there. He’d have hunted her down and killed her!

I do recall him putting a gun to moms head in front of his friends (people who worked for him I should say) thoroughly terrifying and embarrassing mom.

That was old B.C…Dear old Dad.

In hindsight (percentage wise…60-40) he was always putting her down.

Probably to get a power fix.

I don’t know if his tenderness toward her was just for show or not. It depended totally on his moods or whomever he wanted to show his dominance to…and of course, alcohol intake.

My mom’s the only one who could tell you that.           

3

I don’t remember exactly where I attended kindergarten, but I do remember learning to count to 10 in Spanish (can still rip ‘em off today!)

I remember getting glasses….Corrective lenses they called them…hmmp…looked like “four eyes” to me.

Now I’m wearing them to write this….

I remember stealing kisses under a table in second grade (Sherry Parrot).

I remember being in Georgia through the fourth grade, then some place called West Virginia, riding really fast on my Uncle Butchs motorcycle (A Honda…754 Special)

Cool.

I remember peeking at Mom and Dad through their window while they were doing the big nasty (that was frightening)

I got the Birds and Bees talk that day.

It didn’t look like Birds and Bees to me…looked more like…fish on a beach.

Back to Georgia and the 5th grade with Mrs. Salter. …..

She’s the teacher who told my mom that I had audio-sensory deprivation.

What?! …How long does he have!!

This is also about the time that the abuse at the hands of Ricky Moore started…

More on that later…maybe.

I’m still working that part out.

We stayed in Middle Georgia until the 7th grade was over, ending up in SW Georgia (Blakely) for the 8th -11th grade.

Then on to Fritch, Texas!

I will have a whole other post on Fritch, Texas later… 

But, I digress…

I remember in the fourth grade of being beaten to the point of blood by my Dad for drawing a picture of a naked lady. Afterwards I was made to soak in a tub with Epsom salt…also a courtesy of dear old Dad.

Why are the terrible times easier to recall…because I was young or it was more traumatic?

Their Dad was different from mine…but the same guy. Know what I mean?

4

The effect of a parents actions truly last a lifetime don’t they?

It’s up to me to try and fix it I reckon.

But with absolutely no freaking normalcy or anything akin to it or to draw experience and/or wisdom from how does one go about it?

By watching others?

Does the phrase,” fucked from the get go” seem appropriate?

Are we? Am I? Was I?

It is very…very difficult to change ones behavior when the pool of knowledge they have drawn from is…. tainted… poisoned even.

People don’t understand…they judge through their own experiences, their own perceptions…they can’t understand your life…there’s no way for them to.

Good for them says I.

Honestly…

I was schooled in manners and the like for appearances sake.

It was expected that all young southern boys have manners.

Yeah, maybe the basics you know…control tactics to show what great parents they were… “Yes ma’am” “No sir”

What BS…..

I got so tired of hearing, “They’re so well mannered”.

How about fucking terrified not to do it?!

Well, this is what my blog is all about.

Self enlightenment…

Finding out why I am or was so screwed up!

It’s all about me (did that come across right?)

Of finding out why…

For a very long time I believed that I am a defective unit, or what I “deem” as defective.

Hopefully, this will help or aid, or just try and explain to my kid and others I have hurt, what made me …me.

Why I did the things I did…

I wanted to be like “normal” people.

Beaver Cleaver and all that crap!

I wanted to CARE if things go bad… to CARE if I fail…to CARE if I hurt people’s feelings.

To know WHY? 

I want these efforts to help set me on the right path. I want to remove the regrets in my life… to better understand myself…to be the man I always hoped to be… you know, like everyone else…

Not be me.

I want to be free of regret.

I want to find places in my heart to forgive myself and others.

I will not lie on this blog…I will not hide my faults.

I am 49 years old now, and I am tired…so tired of dealing with demons.

I must try and be humble in my life.

My belief structure is wide and ever evolving.

I have no fear in the task I have set for myself.

I am only a man.

I am only Me. 

50 thoughts on “My Past

Add yours

  1. I ONLY DID THE FIRST PAGE TREY, BUT YOU SEEM TO THINK YOUR CHILDHOOD WAS UNUSUAL…NOT AT ALL…I DON’T THINK SO…I THINK IT WAS A SIGN OF THOSE TIMES.
    I WAS RAISED BY A DRUNKEN DAD WHO TRIED TO KILL ME AND MY MOM ALL THE TIME…THAT SOB USED A PISTOL, A RIFLE, A HUNTING KNIFE, TRIED TO GET US RUN OVER BY AN OLD LOCOMOTIVE…THIS WAS IN EAST ST. LOUIS AND ST. LOUIS…

    THE ONLY TIME WE GOT ANY PEACE WAS WHEN THE DRUNKEN BASTARD STOLD MY BROTHER AND WENT TO CALIFORNIA…HE WAS GOOD TO MY BROTHER CAUSE THOSE POLISH IMMIGRANTS ALWAYS LOVED THE BOYS AND HATED THE GIRLS…

    BUT GROWING UP I A SMALL COUNTRY TOWN…I SAW MEN LIKE YOUR DAD OVER AND OVER AGAIN…I DON’T KNOW WHY IT HAPPENED, BUT I ALSO KNOW IT’S GOOD TO GET IT OUT AND DOWN ON PAPER…
    I BET BY NOW EVEN, YOU ARE GLAD YOU ARE LETTING IT OUT AND LOOKING AT IT…I’M NOT READY TO DO THAT YET…I DON’T WANT TO TAKE MY MIND BACK THERE YET, IF EVER…

    BUT I ADMIRE YOU FOR THE COURAGE TO RE-LIVE IT AND THEN PUT IT TO REST AND GO ON TO MUCH BETTER THINGS.

    JUNE IN CAL.
    ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  2. Are you a good man now? Do you strive every day to be the best you can be? Outliving that legacy is so difficult, to say the least. I’m glad you are seeking answers and ways to mend you and your world.

  3. I know this is off subject, but I just finished ready a scary novel where Sulphur, LA was the home of Satan. I didn’t think it was a real place simply because the name was too perfect for the novel.

      1. There’s nothing bloody wrong with them. And some of them are just plain excellent. And if you let prats drag down your confidence I’ll kick your ass. 🙂 🙂 🙂 x

  4. I hope writing and seeing things laid out will help you, Trey. Thanks for dropping by my blog, by the way. I hope you don’t mind that I toured yours a bit….

    1. If you don’t mind, read my story “Oh Crap!” That’s a favorite of mine and I always push it on unsuspecting visitors. Please support my Narcissism. Lol!

  5. Oh my goodness, I am taking you for what you said that this was all true. I commend you for your honesty and the writing is very cathartic. Do you think ;it has helped you see things more clearly and get out all this frustration to deal with it and let it go? I , too , am from the south, Virginia to be exact and there were alcoholics in my family but not in the immediate one. when I was in AZ I had some wonderful Mormon frields and taught many of the children. wonderful friends, neighbors….students. I think you touched on the fact that you wanted to forgive others and your self. There is a verse from scripture that says, “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.” So if you don’t forgive yourself, you can’g love or forgive others! And in the Lord’s Prayer, “Forgives us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” That is a pretty heavy dose of reality too. More later. I am so glad that I came and read this today. Blessings!

    1. Hi annetbell,

      Thank you for your lovely and thoughtful response to treyzguy’s “spiels” and “spells”, so to speak, and for your encouraging advice to treyzguy. You are a good friend here to treyzguy.

      Hi treyzguy,

      It is delightful to know that you are unpacking your luggage and expanding your belief structure, and that you have recovered from past degenerations “after some years as a druggie, and as a raging alcoholic”. Your attempts at putting some of your life stories and your relationships with your parents and others in perspective can and do strike a cord with those who have the time and patience to read what you have revealed to us so far.

      You have a wonderful blog here. It is really not easy to be a conscientious writer and an honest critic of oneself, as inertias, entrenchments and denials can come in many forms.

      SoundEagle would like to wish you a new dawn and a satisfying journey of blogging in the final month of 2013 and also in 2014 and beyond.

      SoundEagle hopes that you continue to do very well and find fulfillment in whatever you enjoy doing and savouring, especially through your new blog as a creative outlet to share and document your thoughts and opinions, and as a vehicle or medium to write about your journey via “A willingness to be open about myself and a journey to find out where I strayed from the path and how it happened…”

      Imagine….

  6. I read through this post again after having read The Key Parts 1 and 2. Puts a slightly different light on things. I knew you were battling the demons you faced with alcohol and the memories or non memories from those days. Abusive father too. But now, after reading The Key, other things seem more apparent. You’re on the right road here…..apt for a truck driver, eh? There’s honesty in your writing. Genuine feeling. That’s when you’re at your best. That and when you’re being funny. 🙂 x

    1. I’m gonna revise them just a bit as I work through these things and remember more. I’ve learned a lot about telling stories from WordPress and I want to fix them a bit. Not the content, or what you and Rene’ call “My style” Just some minor tweets. But I appreciate you reading them. Those are my dark ones…. Where the monsters be.

  7. Beautiful, amazing, distressing account that gives insight and understanding into your own personal journey and where it all started.

    Have you ever sat down and done a genogram? It is where you go through (as far as you would like) the relationships in your family – ie, between your father and mother, their father and mother, their siblings etc etc and you study. You document the qualities of those relationships.

    For example – My mother and father:
    Domestic Violence,
    Alcohol and drug abuse.

    Between my mother and her father –
    Incest
    Child abuse
    Violence
    Domestic Violence
    Alcoholism

    Do this enough (and it can be quite distressing on occasion as you do the research..) BUT it does provide some context and you can literally SEE the Generational Curse (Just another word for passing really horrible habits down the line) travel down through the generations.

    When someone like you recognizes that stuff and says, you know what, ‘No More!’ and makes a commitment to change – that is the beginning of the end of that curse. Does it take time, and effort – ABSOLUTELY. Is it hard, you bet. But coming from a long line of abusive, addictive behaviour I can honestly state you can break the cycle and you will change hearts and minds and lives along the way with your personal testimony.

    Thank you for taking the time to share your personal testimony with us.

    You are amazing.

    ML
    x

      1. It’s more common than you think!

        And the great thing about sharing our experiences is that it lets others know they are not alone, and people can and do relate and understand some of their personal anguish.

  8. Trey-

    So, many of the experiences of your childhood history are the same as mine with very subtle differences. Switch up a gender here or there with the usual suspects…and you get the picture.

    1) Abusive parent- I’ll never tell which…but if the shoe fits…I’m just sayin’…pause and reflect!
    2) Verbal/physical bullying from first day of the first grade until last day of high school. I was called pejorative names, smashed in the legs with lunch boxes, kicked in the ankles, had rubber bands shot into my eyes.
    3) CSA by priest/neighbor/male family friend/neighborhood boys/male family member and others.
    4 I can recall at least ten mild TBI’s from diving onto my head (self-injury when I was under the age of eight years old), from having my head punched or bashed into the ground/door jam/walls over the course of eighteen years by two consecutive abusive boyfriends.

    In spite the minor differences in the details of our personal childhood histories, you and I are the same people…only not. Do you know what I mean?

    Thank you for sharing. Thank you especially for letting me know there is yet another person out in the universe who can relate to what what I have gone through. Someone who understands the enormous amount of effort it takes to rise above a painful past, and to evolve into a more understanding and compassionate human being.

    Blessings & Best Wishes-
    Sea

  9. It shows a lot of courage writing about this for the whole world to read. I commend you, not just for writing this, but for seeking knowledge and understanding, for accepting responsibility and taking the steps to heal.

  10. One heck of an upbringing.
    I can sympathise hugely with you although I know you’re not seeking sympathy here.
    My dad was very similar apart from the drinking issue, he didnt need that.
    Scars remain, but they fade with time. Forgiveness is not something I can do really, but I have become less hateful towards him.
    The main thing that pisses me off is that parents are meant to be the one source of unquestionable love and support, yet so many fail. After 200000+ years parenting has not improved hugely.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: