I believe I left off when I started living with my mom. Time to continue ig.

The last ten years have been hectic to say the least. Life is basically a roller coaster, though I think it may be like that for everyone.

In the first years with my mom it was it’s own kind of hell. Even though I no longer lived with my father, it didn’t by any means mean that he was gone, or done bothering us.  God I don’t know how to explain this. If it sounds chaotic or doesn’t make much sense, I’m sorry. Also, events won’t completely follow chronological order.

See, I still had to see him of course, but I hated it. He scared me to death and I didn’t much like to see my brothers either(the two I still could, the youngest was pretty much out of the picture). If I didn’t see him however, he would get mad. He’d call and call and threaten us. Threaten to take me back(this was a worst nightmare for us) or even kill my mom. Restraining order thank you.

Even so, I still had to see him, and there was nothing we could do about it. I don’t know why it mattered to him so much when I hardly saw him while I was there anyway. Usually he’d be working and my brothers weren’t hardly there, so I was just alone in the house. I was always afraid to be left alone, but it was normal for me so I’d just hide in the back of the house in a room and play on the PC. Even better, there was no where for me to really stay, so I had to sleep in his bed.(Don’t worry, he never did anything, there was only one minor incident-he wasn’t wearing pants. Hello?! Why?!- and that ended that when I told my mom. Turned out to be the middle brother and a cousin I had to worry about. I don’t really feel like going into that). Anyway, yeah. He didn’t hit me much anymore, though I can’t really say the same for my brothers unfortunately.

One time, when I was about eight, I accidentally locked myself(and the little dog, Chihuahua thing) outside the house. The dog ran off, so I had to chase her down the road, all the way to town. Fun times. Then I proceeded to open a window and climb back in with the dog.

You get the picture, it sucked, but whatever I guess.

At home(with mom), it wasn’t easy either knowing he was always around. I knew he wasn’t allowed anywhere near our home, but I was always terrified. I have always had nightmares. I don’t even remember any good ones. They all spawned from him back then. Along with the sleep paralysis and panic attacks. One time, he showed up at my bus stop and attempted to run off with me, but my mom had anticipated that and sent her friend to be there too, and of course I chose to go with her friend. Crisis averted, for the time being.

Another thing I remember: one time, he did indeed “take me” from my mom. He showed up saying that he was taking me back, and we were leaving. I didn’t really understand. It had only been about 6 months, and I was almost eight now. I remember my mom was a wreck, and my grandpa was there, as were her two friends. what I remember most though, was how mad my grandpa was at my father. He wasn’t exactly afraid, but definitely wary because of how out of control my father was. He saw my father as a threat. I remember him threatening my father to never come back to the house, and when my father yelled, I very vividly remember my grandpa reaching for his hip. You probably know what I mean.

He tried to do it another time once, only one other time, maybe two years later. This time, however, I wouldn’t leave. My mom couldn’t fight him, she had no right against him, but I did. He told me to get in the car, so I ran inside and locked myself in my room. When he got me out of my room I ran up the stairs trying not to let him catch me. I ended up clinging to my mom on the couch, and he didn’t leave until I completely broke down and wouldn’t let her go. Apparently that was a panic attack.

Eventually he moved to Florida, I haven’t seen him since.