Hello World. Yes this is the DYCEMAN in the flesh with random thoughts that pop in my head. Those that know me may worry and those that know me have seen first hand that at times my posts can be long and to the point.
Before I go any further I must say a few things about myself to start off this blog. I was a premature baby. Born in 6 months. Yes I was very small. Could have died. Reason I was born that young was because my father had kicked my mother in stomach. The reason I'm guessing is because someone told him that I wasn't his son. It didn't help that when I was born, my completion was light compared to him who was dark. My mother was light. Our family is Puerto Rican and some PR's can be dark is chocolate. My Dad was not to dark, not to light but I was the same as my mother. My father always said that I wasn't his child because I did not look like him. I looked more like my mother. I have an older brother, and older sister and then my younger brother who is my half brother. Same mother different father.
Oh well, what is a child to do. Funny thing is I was closer to my dad than all the other kids that he had. He refused a DNA test to determine if I was his child. I guess over time it didn't matter because he was the only father I knew. While I was young, my father was always in to Drugs. Every waking moment, I saw him taking drugs. I didn't understand what drugs were. I just thought my dad was funny all the time or acting funny. I didn't know that while my mother and father were together, my mother called the Operator to rush him to the hospital. They didn't have 911 back then. My father would shoot drugs through his needles. My mother left him when I was young. I'm guessing when I was 4 or 5 I can't really remember. Thinking back, I don't think my mother could have changed any outcome that was to become my father's destiny.
Growing up. We were dirt poor. I mean we had to steal clothes from the Thrift shop. Of course I'm not going to say which one. Our shoes had holes in them. Our socks had holes in them. We ate when ever, whatever. For our shoes we would put cardboard on the inside. It didn't help when it rained. Socks, well we tied our socks so there wouldn't be a hole. We were dirt poor. There was even a time where we had to place to live. We slept in a park. Things started to look up late 70's. Meaning that we had a place to live. We had food. We didn't have to steal clothes anymore. Everything we had was second hand but still we had a roof over our head and food to eat. The food though was rice and beans. This is the part where you laugh because it's not like you never heard a Latin family eating rice and beans. Steak OMG when we had steak it was like heaven. My mother although she could be a pain in the rear was a great cool. I should say is a great cook because I don't know if she will see this.
After my Mother and Father split, my Mother met this guy who was to become the father of my little brother. This was a time in my life that I call pain and the reason I say pain is because of all the crap this guy put us through. I think I was about 8 years old now. My Sister who is about 4 years older started to complain to my mother that she was being touched by my little brother's father. My mother of course took action!!! She kicked my sister out because she didn't believe her. Looking back on that, I realized how evil my mother was but leaning how many other mothers do the same thing. If you are one of them, you need to slap yourself in the face because your child should come before any man. This guy was my sister's step father. My mother kicked her out for telling the truth. She went to live with my Grandmother. Her life would never be the same. So it was my mother, step father, older brother, and younger brother. Soon after my sister left. I noticed that my step father would go into my brother's side of the room and begin touching him. My brother could not defend himself since he was retarded and didn't know what was going. I didn't know what to do other than keep quiet because I knew that if I said anything that my mother would kick us out. I stayed quiet till he wanted to touch me!! Candy didn't work, money didn't work, I would scream and yell when he came to my side of the room. I learned that this also protected my brother so since then I screamed each time he opened the door.
Being Honest, the most he ever did to me was touch my privates once. My mother finally left him but he would always come around to see my little brother. I don't know if my little brother was ever touched. I never asked and have yet to ask. I figure it's a dead issue because he hated his father so I'm guessing his father touched him as well. During this time my father was in prison. I never said anything at all ever to him. My father would kill him. When my father was released, he tried to get back with my mom because my mom was now single but my father loved his drugs even more. I wished they got back together. My mother was no Angel. If you saw the movie mommy dearest, my mother made that woman look like a saint!! I have scars on my body from the beatings I received. My mother once turned out her smoke right on my right wrist. I have the scar from that to prove it. Even after all the beatings, I love my mother very much but things changed after this next event in my life.
I am now 11 years old when I developed a headache that wouldn't go away. After about a week my mom took me (finally) to the doctors. It wasn't my regular doctor. He gave the pills and that was it. Two days later I was worse. I mean, every time I stood up, I would vomit. I could not hold any food down. I stood up, I vomit. My mom would call the doctors, same doctor said it's a side effect from the medicine. Two days later, I was worse. My regular doctor was back. He was pissed at my mother because of the fact that she should have taken me to the emergency room. She told my mother we need to admit him to the hospital. I remember receiving shot after shot after shot in my arms that both my arms were purple. I still could not stand. Three days after arriving to the hospital my condition was worse. My father during this time was back in prison. He didn't know anything that was going on.
My so called Family didn't come to visit. It was just my mother. I remember her telling me this entire story because I could not remember any of it. The Doctors came to my mother early morning telling her that I have about 20 minutes to live. My mother started going crazy. She looked through the glass window to see white foam coming from my mouth. My stomach started to go in and out or doing a wave like a snake or something. 20-minutes. This was the second time in my life that death was knocking at my door. I guess the doctors were right on because it came down to the last minute when I flat lined. They all rushed in all of them and used those things to shock me. Sorry I don't know what that's called but they did it three times and nothing. They said I was dead. It was 15 seconds later that they received a pulse. They almost put the bed sheet over my face. I was ALIVE. They received a pulse. Cheated death again but this time it came with a price. After that the Doctors came to my mother and told her I won the fight but that I'm not out of the woods. I fell into a coma and stayed that way for three weeks.
I can only imagine what any parent might feel thinking of the very thought of loosing their child. Nobody came to visit me. Nobody gave comfort to my mother. Here was a woman who beat me so bad at times to being right there by my side and not leaving for one second. I'm almost in tears telling this part of my life. When I came out the coma I lost all my memory. I did not know who anyone was. I did not know my mother, father, brothers, or sister. My uncle finally showed up while my mother was down stairs getting some coffee. When she saw him there, she screamed at the top of her lungs Demanding that he leave. She instructed that hospital that no one is to visit me but her and my grandmother. They were not there to support her when she needed it. My mother later told me that my uncle told her that he asked me if I knew who he was, I stated " I don't know you " is what my uncle said. After my mother yelled, my uncle left and my mom stayed in the room with me showing me pictures. Even my classmates came to visit, my best friend at the time came to visit. I didn't know any of them. My best friend later told me that I had an empty look in my eyes as if I wasn't me.
Maybe a few days later I remember opening my eyes. The person I saw was my brother. I said his name. He was shocked that I said his name. He said my name. I remembered who he was. The first thing I said to him was " I'm thirsty, Where am I" he ran to my mother who came in and I asked my mom where am I. She was crying that I remembered her. Doctor's came in and explained to my mother not to excite me. She couldn't help it. She hugged me and cried. I cried with her simply because of the thought of seeing her cry hurt. I was shown all kinds of pictures of different people but I did not remember anyone outside my mom, dad, brother, sister, former stepfather. I was still clueless. I lost most of my memory. I could not recall things and till this very day I get bits and pieces of what was and I wonder if it's just a dream. I did remember lots of things but could not remember things I did or places I've gone. I did remember some of the bad things that happened and lost many things that happened. I guess it was a new start.
I'm now about 14. My memory is still off but I'm good. Now that I'm older but still remember some of the bad things, this one event crossed my mind just now. One night while my mother was out, I saw my former step father walking up the hill from a distance. My sister was living with us again after what happened in the hospital. Anyway, I saw him coming up the hill. I filled a bucket with ICE COLD water. As soon as he knocked on the door, I got him with the water and told him to get the hell out of here. Small revenge but it worked. I never seen him again. I heard he moved to mexico only to die years later from Alcohol.
Now I'm 15 folks and I know it all. Yeah right. This was the year that my father died.
I'll continue this story later on........
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