It was never Texas… It was Alabama and the boob incident… that changed everything…

When depression comes on and you are not smoking any good pot… The brain, or at least mine, goes on many different adventures into the past and it’s not deliberate… it will be triggered by a holiday, or specific players in my life…

What I had thought for 50 years, as the pivotal moment that changed my life… Was wrong… It was never Texas and the birth of my half-sister… and the trauma that happened in that little sleepy town… it was never the life altering moment for me…

It was the boob incident… geez, nearly threw up in my mouth on that memory… Which if you read the blog a year ago, you know the story, but I was threatened by the sister this story is about, even though it was because of her… Margie lost everything, because of that one beating and mothers lies have spread like wild-fire, because to know truth… you have to listen and people who hate you for what ever real or imagined reason… will drink it in like nectar dripping out of the flowers… and that blog was deleted and what you see is what I have written since… so some of you may not know this story and because of the threats from the sister… it will most assuredly be in the book… because to tell truth… you can’t stop me from telling it… unlike Trump… I do not stray from the facts and I own what I write… Truth does Matter…

All this time I thought Texas was the catalyst change physically from the beating, mentally from the trauma… but it wasn’t…

It always was the mother, it never was the dad… he was just a tool the mother used and manipulated… though he fed off of it and expanded his own cruelty over time….

How do I know it was the boob incident and not Texas… Because I remember… I was just at the very beginning start of puberty, maybe not out worldly, but internally, I could tell it was happening and all of a sudden it stopped… the hormones, the internal feelings of arousal an interest in the changing body and world… 

Though I developed physically, internally the damage my mother did when she beat me senseless over her 6 yrs old boobs… left its mark on my body, that I never forgot, because I brought it up many times to the sister who says we are close… and she is the one I got beaten for, because of her boobs…

Maggi6yr

This picture of this child covered in bruises with the hand print on her neck… all because mother was embarrassed over her other daughter who had a condition that caused her to develop a decade to early… this is when Margie’s life changed…. when the Bay of Pigs happened and dad was not home, but deployed…

I always kept going back to why I flunked a grade back at that time… always confused the time with Vietnam and dads deployment…

Because of this beating, the puberty my body had just started, came to a grinding halt…

I would be 16 1/2 years old, 8 years later,  before I became a woman and could reproduce children…. My body delayed development, because it was too busy recovering from all the beatings and by the time Texas happened…

I lived a world of isolation and escape… via my books, or finding any way to not be in that house that never was a home…

My story is not unique… to many children around the world suffer at the hands of the people who brought them into this world… because they were never adult enough to be anything more than jailers…. and abusers… and all because of religion….

This is not the christmas present I expected…. to remember… it wasn’t dad that took my life… it was mother….

TimesUp #MeToo WhyIDidntTell

I Remember… Margie…

Sgt. USAF DAV