POT, PREGNANCY and PROBLEMS my three P’s

My 10th grade has already started. Students were all going to school, meeting up with their friends whom they haven’t seen all summer, meeting their teachers for the first time. All except a select few. I think I’m one of those select few.

The dugout is my class, my new teacher, it’s my way of learning.  There’s no easy way of learning the things you need to learn, not in my world.  Who needs classes? Who needed teachers? I didn’t. I just needed my new friends and their teachings. 

I learned a lot. I learned how to take a proper hit off of a joint. I learned when you took a hit off of a joint, you held it in, then released the smoke. I learned how to use a bong, taking the hit the same way as you would a joint. I learned you got a much bigger hit with a bong than with a joint. I was learning so much. I learned you only had to go to two classes a day, to be marked as ‘ in school’. So I was in school, right?  Wrong!  So that’s what they said to my grandmother during a conference.  “Patty is NOT attending school, she is failing.” 

Life goes on with my teachers, until I finally stopped going to those dreaded to classes,  the ones that marked me as, in school. 

Now I’m learning other things like,  how to drop acid. I was never a fast learner,  I had to get ripped off a few times to learn the correct way to do that. I’m learning these people, my so-called friends are not my real friends. They are people just like me. ‘LONERS’.     I learned, you find another more reliable person to buy from. I learned don’t buy liquid acid that’s been put on sugar cubes, it’s more than likely JUST sugar cubes.

Once again, i am learning. Learning so much stuff I can take out to the real world as an adult. NOT!   I’m learning how to be street smart. 

“If only I could turn back time.” I can’t? so I won’t try. My life still at 47 will move forward. 

Yet for now, my learnings continue.  Oregon and my new friends continue to teach me. But all good teachings must come to an end and they did. I ended it about one week before Thanksgiving.

I came home to my grandparents early one morning after they had stayed up worrying about me. I sat down at the kitchen table with them and explained to them, I had to go back to California. I told them the truth, I said I was doing more things in Oregon to get me into trouble than I was when I left my home State. Plus, I didn’t want them to continue to have grief. Grief from their granddaughter. The three of us agreed. Now it was time to get Kathy on board. She would be the tough one, she was the decision maker. She was the HNiC.  :I can’t fully remember what she said, all I know is I went back, back to my small hell: On another bus trip back to my old friends, back to California.

 

 

Get back home to my living hell, with her. Life isn’t everything that it could be. Now I’m missing my boyfriend. I talk to him daily for about four months. Just small chit chat, telling him I miss him, telling him I haven’t had my period. WHAT? YOU HAVEN’T HAD A PERIOD AND YOUR ONLY 15? Oh lord please save me. I can’t be pregnant.
I’M PREGNANT! Still in denial, yet I’m getting bigger in my belly, not a whole lot, but I am gaining weight.
I tried ridding myself of this pregnancy. I tried with a metal hanger and I just couldn’t do it right. Because over the coarse of two months I got bigger. I still haven’t told Kathy and I have no plans to tell her I’m pregnant.. She had to have known something, but she never let on. Eventually her and I were at each other and I ran away. I ran away to my girlfriends house. I wasn’t there very long before Kathy came and got me or I came home after talking to her.

She found out I was pregnant! Pregnant with her first grandchild.

It wasn’t your typical pregnancy. There was nothing typical about this whole situation.

My whole life nothing was typical and I mean NOTHING!

Feeling lonely
Feeling afraid
feeling confused
Feeling trapped
Feeling tired
Feeling unloved
Feeling No connection
Feeling pregnant at 15

I am
Only child
I am Patty

I know everything, but dont know anything

Anythings gotta be better than living with her.

At the age of 14 I knew everything. No one could tell me anything. I knew about drugs, I knew how to fight, I knew how to get myself ready for school or just get ready for the day. I also knew I didnt want or need school.. I mean who was going to use Science in everyday life or use geometry? I knew I wasnt going to use either of these. So knowing this, I chose not to go to school. Ok, I went to school, I just didnt go to all my classes.. The parking lot and all of the stoners knew my name. I atleast think the stoners did..

Towards the middle of 9th grade. Kathy (mom) had a meeting with the school principal. That was the last day I ever went to that High school. On our way home, Kathy informed me I was going to Eugene Oregon, to live with my grandparents. Dale and Vi, my dad (Sams) parents.. Great!! Get me away from her. Ofcourse im a little nervous, I mean who wouldnt be. Moving to another State, switching schools, going somewhere thats unfamiliar to you. How am I getting there? Plane? Yes!! Oh no! heres a bus ticket for you. Your not going in luxury girl. Your lucky your not having to hitchhike. This way on the bus you’ll have some time to think about all of this. . It takes 9 hours by car and about two hours by plane. So bus is here. It took about 14 hours, we had to stop in every town from Fairfield California to Eugene Oregon. FINALLY, im here. My back is killing me and I had to use the bathroom. But I made it alive and all in one piece.

My aunt picks me up and I go to my grandparents, Dale and Violets. They get me registered for school 10th grade. Willamette High.
I dont know to many people in school. But I do know the three brothers that live across the street from me. Eric, Carl and their ypunger brother. Carl is older than me by a year. He’s a dork and he has a crush on me. Their parents have formed them inyo dorks but Carls the biggest dork. Eric is my age snd hes a dork too but not as big of one as his brother.
I hung with them on weekends and after school got out. They introduced me to some of their friends. Then of course I started hanging with them.

School and me, we just didn’t mesh. I hated school, because I knew everything already.. Who needs math or science, hell I already knew how to read.. The only time I was ever there was during 1st period. They took role in first period and that counted for three periods. Id show up to fourth period when they took role again, counting for another three periods. So I only showed up to two classes a day, if that.. Because I knew everything. No one had to tell me what needed to be done or how to do it. I knew it already. .

I bet your wondering where I was during the other classes and what was I doing. Well, I along with my new friends , the ones Carl and Eric introduced me to. We were in the dougouts, smoking.. Not just smoking cigerettes either, smoking pot.. This wasnt a gateway drug , like a lot of people said it was.. It was a plant and plants aren’t going to hurt me, or anyone else. It just takes you away from life, your life.. For that time your smoking it.. What the harm in smoking it, right?

#Mendingmy♡onestep@atime

I finally left him for a better me

So I’m continuing from where I left off in my last post.

First a little bit about why I left home at age sixteen. Kathy and I never got along. She had a girlfriend named Ellen. Kathy’s world did revolve around her or whom ever she was hooked up with. I just got in their way. So Kathy would start shit, and I’d end it. By running away, all the time.

I had been seeing a guy named Bob. Yes that was his real name well nickname. Real name Robert. Anyway… Kathy didn’t like him, yet she didn’t like anyone or anything I was involved in. So at age 16 I had run away a lot, since about the age of 14. Remembering back a few posts, I said I was an addict. I was using at the age of 15. Mine and Bob’s relationship, in looking back. We were just drug buddies.

So one evening I was going out with him and Kathy had told me to be home by midnight and she said if I don’t get home by then, she wanted me out of the house. Whelp, the very next morning I showed up. She opened the door and followed me to my room. I knew what thst ment, so I packed what I could and she walked me back to the front door.. And that’s when my life began as a crazy bitch from hell.

Bob was a player a cheater. He W’s a bad one. I don’t mean he was bad in a good way, I mean bad as in he’d get caught. Not all the timw, but i did catch him, or he wanted to get caught. Bob and I had a volatile relationship about every six months. We would break up and get back together. This happened more and more. When I’d catch him, my crazy would come out. It didn’t matter who was around or not. If I was mad, everyone knew I was mad. There was a time i had grab ed a beer mug and threw it across the room, chipping his elbow bone. There was another time, i had jumped on his car, to stick my foot through his front window. After seeing him cheat and seeing with whom he was cheating with. I’d follow them to their house and jump outta my car to whoop on their ass. To never leaving Bob, just threating to leave. Yet continuing this same olé fight. Another fight was when I actually caught this girl, in nothing but a towel in his friends apartment bathroom. He says he didn’t know she was there, he was just watching his apartment while he was gone.. Are you for real, dude? I didn’t fall off the fucking turnip truck yesterday. When I caught him, I beat on him and when I found her I beat on her slamming her head into the wsll. Scaring her to run outta the apartment dropping her towel. So I left him. I left and stayed with my grandparents in a small little town, near Napa Calififornia. That didn’t last long until I went back to him. When I got there, things seemed to have changed. changed for the worst. Our drugs we used were crack cocaine, cocaine and weed. He also drank. I never did it all at once, u used because it took me away of my loneliness. I was a using my body, because I didn’t care. I didn’t care about myself, I didn’t care to feel anyway, but this way. I couldn’t leave, because this is what I deserved. I deserved to be hurt. I was a bad kid, from what Kathy had said and what she had shown me. This is what Sam had said and this is what he had shown me. My life would never change, because this what they had all shown me
If you love someone, it hurts you. If love was really like that, how come people were married for years and years? Did they get a knot in their stomach every time their spouse was coming home, did they have to beat up people because their spouse cheated? I knew there was something better. I don’t mean a better person bit more like a better way to live your life. I knew it wasn’t me who was a crazy botch. The people I thought I loved made me a crazy bitch. If they wouldn’t push me in a corner, I wouldn’t come out swinging.

One of my last memories of Bob was when we had broke up the time before our last. I had been living with my grandparents in Fairfield and I’d go see Bob all the time. With some of my things still at the apartment. I had gone over there and he had been seeing this black girl. He had said he wasn’t seeing her anymore. This was my chance, my chance to win him back. He happened to be leaving outta the house. We were fighting about this item I had in the apartment that he had given to that black girls daughter. He swears he didnt. Anyway, he was fighting with me, to leave and I was fighting him to stay. Not to go with this girl. When I started walking down the stairs, I was screaming and cursing and calling him and thus chic every nasty name in the book. I had gotten to the bottom of the stairs and I screamed at him calling her a nigger bitch. (I didn’t normally don’t talk like this, but i do when I’m fucking pissed) So after yelling at him calling her these names, I turned to the side all and this white van that was sitting on the street, watching and listening to everything that had happened. The door slid open and thete came outta the van four black girls. Now I said I’d never fight a black girl because their sista’s got their back. So I didn’t fight her or fight all of them. I chose to keep walking as if my shit didn’t stink. I didn’t run I didn’t try to fight I didn’t do anything. Bob and I were do r with what we had to say to each other. So I wsled, Wales like u was taking a stroll through the park. Without a care in the world. All that was done, one of the four girls threw a half full can of beer at me and it hit my back. That’s when I turned around and called all of th fucking bitches.. That was it. I got in my car and left. I wasn’t gone very long, because you see. Don’t you know who I am and what I am?

I finally got him back after trying! Yes, I’m the winner! ! I’m the winner, right? Not to long after winning him back, we got married.. What are you fucking serious? You got married after all the shit he put you through? You idiot, what the fuck were you on? What were you thinking? First, I wasn’t on anything. Second I wasn’t thinking. Don’t tell me you weren’t on anything, because your an addict and you said you were using with Bob. But when Rob and I broke up about the black girl thing. I had stopped using crack. I stopped using crack by using cocaine. I stopped cocaine because I couldn’t find it, and because I no longer wanted to be associated with the ones who sold it.

The married life wasn’t what it was all cracked up to be. I thought by having that piece of paper saying we were married, I thought it would change him. It didn’t, yet I don’t think it surprised me one bit. After ten months of marriage. I was diwn filing for an annulment. I can remember the price dven. $250.00 Bob said he’d pay for half. Bob never paid a penny.
The last time i saw him, he was working at a Christmas tree lot and I stopped by to show off. To show him I was a better person. Not a better person than him, but a better person without him. I was nothing but kind to him that day the only thing I did do waz, show him my one and only new Visa card..

“I GOT FUCKING CREDIT!

MY life as I knew it then, would never be the same.

RIP = = Robert -Bob “2006”

Patty
Only child

MY truth! Posted from WordPress for Android

Different types of abuse

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and I’m not gonna talk about just my abuse . I’m going to talk about abuse in general. I’ll start with my abuse. The abuse I endured and the abuse I’ve dished out.

From as far back as I can remember I was either verbally or physically abused by Kathy (mom) or Sam (dad) or someone I was dating or a husband or myself. All depending on where I was and what was going on at that time.

I will say this, I will never make excuses up for anyone, including myself.

I think the most hurtful type of abuse amyone could ever get, is being verbally abused. I know that if I had to pick out of the two, I would most definitely choose to be physically abused. Ofcourse, I would choose neither, but I’m having to pick.. Please physically abuse me, because my bones will heal and my black eye will go away, eventually.. why wouldn’t I choose verbally. Well because words hurt and some words hurt more than others. .
When someone, Kathy tells you, you “look like a slut” or she tells your husband “she disowned you.” Those words will never be forgotten. When she gets mad at you and tells you to “fuck off”or she says to you, “my world doesn’t revolve around you.” Those words get stuck in a compartment in your head so when a situation comes up in your life that’s similar to when they said that to you or said it to someone your close to. You can open that compartment up anytime anywhere and pull them out. Their always there for future references. .

Then there’s physical abuse. Smacking me around, punching, she would spank me, with my pants down and up. There was a time she made me and someone else physically fight each other. We were in elementary school.

Now learning from the best, I learned how to fight. I wasn’t afraid of fighting either. I can remember the first time I ever fought anyone, I was in elementary school. I had fought a boy who was bigger than me. I’m talking fist fight, rolling on the ground. Ofcourse I’m going to say I won and he’d say he won. But i really can’t remember who won and who cares. My second real fight was again. in elementary . I fought three black girls. We all know who won that. Them! But they taught me not to fight a black girl because they don’t usually fight one on one. Their sista’s got their back. When white girls, their friends stand back and watch. Their not even cheering you on.

Eventually as I got older, I would fight my boyfriend.

To be continued.

Until we meet again..

Patty
Only child

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#Mendingmy♡onestep@atime

Why don’t I trust men

healing-hurtSo if I don’t trust women who can I trust? The men in my past? NO! They’ll only hurt me too. The proof of my not trusting is in words and memories.

Sam (dad) he left me and got married and along the way stopped having anything to do with me. Telling my husband now, he had nothing to worry about, that I’d never cheat on him. Why in the fuck would he say something like this to him. He didn’t even know his daughter, not on that level..

My grandfather Austin. Kathy’s (my mom)dad. He cheated on my grandmother (Edna) for approx 10 years of their marriage. I’d go to visit they would pick me up from the airport and my grandpa would drop us off at home and I wouldn’t see him again until it was almost time for me to fly home.

My ex husband (Bob/Robert) RIP from the time I got together with him to the day I divorced him, he cheated on me. He cheated on me the whole six years we were together. It equaled out to be about every six months. I’d catch him, either up close and personal or I’d hear it through the grapevine. Every time I’d take him back, course after whooping the girls ass and whooping on his. I had busted his car window out with my foot, I had chipped his elbow with a beer stein. With the girls I’d follow them home, kicking their ass in their driveway or I’d bust their head on the bathroom wall, where I found them wrapped in nothing but a towel. Now this is what I thought was love. Someone who made my stomach hurt every time he came home or didn’t come home.

These were the types of men I had in my life. Cheaters,men with to much confidence or low confidence in me and in themselves. Sam had been cheated on by my step mom Yolonda. He was the one with no confidence. My grandpa and Rob had to much confidence, in such they’d get caught and knew their spouses would stay with them.

My dad’s dad Dale my grandpa had a lot of confidence but never cheated on my grandma. Yet when she passed away, he started seeing Yolondas mom (Virgina). The day of my grandma’s funeral Virgina helped my grandpa pick the clothes he was going to wear. Then it was game on for him.. Whether he cheated or not it just looked wrong. I do believe he may have, because Virgina used to flirt with him and he would too, sometimes even hanging off of him like on family get together. I guess this is where that old saying comes from, “keeping it all in the family”..Yuck!

My husband now,I trust him. He has confidence, yet i believe that he thinks ive cheated or will, which gives him low confidence. I’ve trusted him since day one. I’m not sure why I trusted him. Maybe because he was raising his two kids by himself, he had a job for years, lived in the place for years, he had waited years to get into a serious relationship.. He chose me to get serious with, he chose me to marry him. Lucky him! <~~~Im being sarcastic.. Granted I say I trusted him, but something in my head told me he was going to leave me or cheat on me. But i don't think I ever have accused him of it.. And i dont think he ever has.. I maybe still think that he would leave ir cheat on me, but its short lived.. Thank goodness..

So who can I trust and who can't I trust at this point? The one person I can trust, is my husband. But anyone else? That answer is NO!

This is about the men in my life.. Love them or dislike them. These are my men.

I trust only one, my husband, Rick.

I am Patty
Only child

Why I don’t trust women

So you wanna know why I don’t trust anyone, but more so women.

Almost everyone woman and man, I’ve let into my life hurt me, one way or another.  Theres two women that are the exception. The first one, my grandmother from Sams (my dad) side and my bestfriend from middle school, Yolanda A.
These two women I wished were in my life on a daily. My grandmother, passed away and Yolanda A. lives on the East Coast.

In my lifetime I only had two best friends. One I met in elementary school (Shelly) and the other in middle school (Yolanda).

After knowing and having Shelly beside me all those yearz, with all of our ups and downs, good times and bad times. Each of us divorced once, boyfriends came and went. Both of us never had blood children, I adopted my beaitiful daughter. We both had step -kids. We both had gotten remarried.

The only time we didn’t go to the same school was in middle school and even then I’d cut school and go to hers.. #crazyshit

Her and i had a lot in common, not just knowing each other. We had been through all of that and much more.

All to have her stop speaking to me 5 years ago.. And to this day, I still don’t know why. For me, that was like going through a second divorce.

We were besties, and no matter what happened i was there for her and she was there for me.She was my daughter’s Auntie.. Her mom was my mom and her brothers and sister were mine. Shelly was pretty flakey yet i accepted her for who she waz.. Her famous words to me were, “Pat your my bestfriend”. Yelling it at the top of her lumgs.. But this is who she was. Over the years i would tease her and tell her she probably told all of friends they were her bestfriends. Shed deny it, ofcourse.. But I was, right. One of many holiday get togethers, one of her husband’s friends said to Shelly in front of me, “Shelly you tell everyone their your bestfriend”. Which hurt me, but i kinda knew this. I guess i took being a bestfriend more seriously than she did.

So in rambling on, again… sorry

Shelly had hurt me after spending 40 years of my life, as my best friend and everyone else’s bestfriend… But thinking about it now, and thinking about whom she was. I should have known it would happen. I trusted her. Shelly is no longer my best friend, she is no longer in my life.

We all know that Kathy (my mom)played a big part in me not trusting women. I think it was because of her, I actually wouldn’t let a girl, get close to me. I had Kathys girlfriends. They took a lot of time, Kathys time away from me. I really disliked them..

My step mom Yolonda. When she married my dad, I thought she loved me. Wrong! Then hearing from my dad what she had said to him once. “It’s either me or Patty”? Giving Sam an ultimatum. He chose, her..

My ex – husband would cheat on me with women I knew, as aquintences and I believe he also slept with Yolonda (step-mom) and I know he had with Shelly. “Yes” I was stupid for having her still be a part of my life. That reason is kinda unknown and kinda who I am. Forgiving..

Now at all of my jobs, I have women glare at me, have attitudes with me, dislike me for whatever reasons. It’s not that I’m rude to any of them. It’s I just don’t trust them. So at work and outside of work, I treat everyone just the same..I say hello and get doing what I need to..if I make a friend at work that’s great if I don’t that’s ok too.

My step daughter hurt me also, saying things quite a few things to others that just weren’t true.. They were just hateful and hurtful..

Over the last 5 years I’ve started to trust more women, but still keeping the box around me and my feelings. I’m only human.

I am NO longer speaking to any of these women. Because I guess it wasn’t meant to be..

In saying all of this, I know my husband will hurt me, I just don’t know when and how he’ll do it. He’s probably going to leave me.. lol Just a inside joke…He better not!
I am Patty
Only child

#Mendingmy♡onestep@atime</s

Who is Only Child

PicsArt_1396485323323A little about me and how I roll!

••••••••••I’m an only child••••••••••
My parents divorced when I was a toddler. Both are remarried to women.
I don’t speak with either one of my parents.

I don’t trust easily.

I’ve been married for 25 years
I have one daughter, we adopted her in 1999 she was a little over four months.
I have two step kids, five grandkids. I was pregnant twice. I lost one child i placed for adoption, he passed away from SIDS in 1982 and my second, I lost due to an ectopic pregnancy in 1996. I was four months pregnant.

I love animals big and small.

I don’t like the word ‘hate’. but I do dislike things and people.

I really ‘DISLIKE COPS’

I curse like a drunk sailor.

I’m a caring loving person.
Women usually don’t like me.

I’m a hard worker, I don’t listen to rumors and I dislike drama. I tell it like it is, without trying to hurt anyone.

I’m a self starter. You only have to tell me once, well maybe twice what needs to be done.

I’ll give you my coat off my back, if your hungry I’ll feed you. I won’t tell your secrets.

I joke a lot, maybe to much. I love seeing people smile, I like hugs. I have a silly sense of humor.

If you need help, ask and if I can I will. I’m afraid to get old, but not afraid to die.

I’m afraid of drowning, but like to swim.

I have OCD, sometimes it drives me insane.

I’m an addict. I don’t use any longer, but it does cross my mind at time.
Drug of choice was Vicoden/Norco.

I believe in GOD.
I think I I died years ago and I’m living my second life.

If you piss me off and I feel like your backing me in a corner, I react like a pit bull on crack. I forgive easily, but don’t forget easily.

If I love you, I love you unconditionally.

I hate to argue, but if I’m right. I’ll argue my point into the ground… I don’t care who wins a fight, as long as it ends soon.

I try to build people up, even when their trying to knock me down. I have feelings like others, so remember when you talk behind my back, I feel hurt to….

I’m shy, yet outgoing. I praise people a lot. I’m patient.

I’m very sincere when I’m speaking. I’m genuine. 

I’m not a follower. I have my own style.

You either love me or hate me. There is NO in between…

I WILL NEVER STAB YOU IN THE BACK!

Patty
Only Child

#Mendingmy♡onestep@atime

Letter to Kathy, my mom ♡

I’m writing you this letter because you need to know a few things also to let you know I will not be attempting to contact you ever again.

You have hurt me and I can no longer sit back and accept that. I haven’t spoken to you in almost four years. Just about the time I stopped talking to Sam.

You and I never got along so this shouldn’t be a surprise to you, that I’m cutting what kinda ties we had.
I know I wasn’t the greatest child to have, but to have you treat me the way you have, that’s unacceptable. So I have chosen to write to you as if you have crossed to the other side.

You treated me a way that people treat an acquaintance. Anytime I wanted to visit you always had a time limit. When I would call it was always on your time clock. It was a job having a relationship with you. I no longer have a job with you. I have left the building. You thought that I was your own personal slave and punching bag. Whether you hurt me with your fist or your words. It all hurt the same in the long run. I will no longer be under your fucked up control. And, yes it was controlled, everything was controlled by you. My attitude towards women were under your control, my hatred towards men was controlled by you. My feelings about myself was under your control. I have taken that all back from you.

I no longer need you, for that matter, I no longer want you to be a part of my life. Now in saying that, if you want to have a relationship with my daughter, I have never stopped you from that. Please feel free to contact me through my email, as I will not speak with you. Why you ask? It will only turn ugly as it always did.

You have done this to yourself. I have tried and tried with you only to get shunned.
You curse at me, call me names and treat me like a child. I am a woman of age and I WILL NOT BE TREATED as a CHILD!

I will not have you be a part of my life. You are just plain mean to me.

You were always to busy for me, when you had a girlfriend and that was almost my whole childhood. I am to busy now, my schedule is booked for the 50+ years. So I can not take phone calls or letters (emails-OK, maybe) and definitely no in person contact. That shouldn’t be hard, your all the way in Hawaii. Plus, your way to busy with your wife that you would never try to contact me anyway.

I’m a big girl now with a family of my own.

I wish you health and happiness that any one person deserves.

If anything should ever happen to you, please do not have anyone contact me, as I have already said my good-byes to you.

I still love you and I always will, but I will never forgive you.

Your daughter Only child,

Patty