My So Called LIfe...
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2010-01-20 07:16:21 (UTC)

19 January 2010

Tuesday - 19 January 2010 - 10:34pm

I have never really had a diary before and thought it
might be about time to start expressing my distain for my
life in whole. Maybe this will give me some insight into
how to fix everything that’s wrong.

I am 32, soon to be 33 years old. I am single and have a
5 year old wonderful little boy. We live in a home I just
bought 3 months ago. I have a huge mortgage, debt, and
bills coming out of my ass. I have sister who is 5 years
older than me in which I hate to death. I have a mother
who I don’t think ever grew a back bone and a father who
is one of the most selfish individuals I have ever met.
I really hope one day I have fonder thoughts of these

Growing up we had everything that we wanted. Nice house,
nice cars, nice summer cabin, boats, all the bells and
whistles. Problem harmony, no happiness, no

My father owned his own business. My mother stayed at
home and raised me and my sister. I don’t really remember
a lot of quality family time growing up and I certainly
don’t remember ever being told that I was loved or valued
in any which way.

These are the memories that I remember from about 5 years -
11 years old.

We always spent our summers at the lake. My dad would go
to work during week while my mom, sister and I would stay
at the lake and he would come on the weekends.

There weren’t many kids at the lake and what kids there
were, were all older than me. Our next door neighbours
had two daughters. One who was about 3 years older than
me and one that was my sisters age. My sister and her
always hung out, however I was still in the Barbie stage
and wanted to not even the girl who was 3 years
older than me wanted to play with me...barbies
weren’t "cool".

My sister never wanted to have anything to do with me.
She would never let me tag along, she would always put me
down and express her hate towards me. I was always left
out of everything. I was terribly bored and lonely. My
mom never played with me or entertained me in any which
way. So I played with our dog that didn’t really like me
and always bit me.

My grandparents (dad's side) had a cabin about a mile
away. I would often ride my bike over there for something
to do. I don’t really ever remember seeing my grandfather
there too often, and when I did...he didn’t bother with me
much. I saw my grandmother, who I would have lemonade
with and watch her wash the dishes. We often played
cards. We always played “Kings in the Corner”. My
granny, my grandmothers – mother would often me there
too...we all played. Those were always fun times. When
that became boring, I would ride my bike back to our
cabin. I would often play games that my bike was a car.
I would stop at the park nearby and hope to see some kids
there to play with...even if it just meant watching them
at a distance. But that was very few and far between. I
would walk on the beach and collect shells and rocks.
Sometimes the neighbours on the other side of our cabin
would have their granddaughter out who was the same age as
me. We would play together. But she didn’t come out that
often. Every weekend I would wait anxiously to see if she
would be there...99% of the time left disappointed.
One of my most comforting moments I remember from this
cabin was going to bed and hearing Mash playing on the tv
with rabbit ears in the living room. I don’t think I ever
heard the whole intro finish...I would be fast asleep. To
this day the intro song still makes me sleepy.
However one of my worst memories as a child was on a dad had just come out from the city. He would
always tell me not to leave my bike lying around (isn’t
that what every child is told?). Well I guess I was out
riding somewhere and saw our station wagon in the drive
way and I was excited that he was there...I laid my bike
down at the end of his car. Hours later he came storming
up to me, took me by the arm and starting pulling me
towards the car. I was so scared. He was yelling at my
mom saying "I'm taking her into the car so no one hears
her". I didn’t know what was going on. What he was
talking about! He pulled me in there and started hitting
me on my bum, back, head, everywhere! I still didn’t know
what I did! I remember crying and yelling for my mom to
help me. She never came. I seriously thought he was
going to kill me. I didn’t know what was going on. My
mom never came. She didn’t even look out of the cabin. I
don’t remember how long it lasted for; I don’t even
remember how I got away. All I remember is being back in
my bedroom shaking and crying. I was only like 6 or 7
years old, maybe even younger. My mom came in later and
told me that dad had driven over my bike. That I had no
bike and I wasn’t allowed to have another one. I don’t
remember ever coming out for the rest of the day or
night. I do remember being told I wasn’t allowed to wear
a bathing suit till all my black and blue bruises went
away. To this day, this still makes me cry terribly.

I don’t remember my father ever talking to me about any of
what happened. I don’t really ever remember him talking
to be period.

I remember there were these big rocks that surrounded our
fire pit at the lake. I would sometimes jump from rock to
rock trying to circle the fire pit as fast as I could go.
At this time, I had a nail biting problem..I bit my nails
all the time. My father walked by and said "you shouldn’t
bite your nails" I said "okay dad" and never bit them

I remember one time my uncle was at my grandparent’s cabin
and his buddy was out there with him. My grandparents had
a big party going on. I don’t remember what the party was
for...we were just there. My uncle and his buddy had a
couple of 4 wheelers and I really really wanted to go on
it. I knew my parents wouldn’t let me if I asked. So I
lied and told them they said yes. Well, I was the one
steering and I crashed it. Drove right into a ditch,
scraped up my arms and legs really badly. I remember my
back was bleeding badly and I had a really hard time
walking. I begged my uncle’s friend not to tell my dad.
I was so scared of getting in shit for being on the 4
wheeler I never told anyone of the pain I was in. I sat
in a tent that was setup to hide from my parents for the
rest of the night to ensure they didn’t know I was hurt.

I remember being in grade school and I became phobic about
germs...I washed my hands till they were raw. I would
make a fist and my knuckles would bleed. My father one
day said "I would like to see your hands more soft" I
said "okay dad" and poof I stopped washing my hands so
often, my hands cleared up and the problem was gone.

I remember I would say I had a tummy ach all the time so I
didn’t have to go to school. My mom would always let me
stay home. I would just lay in bed all day and try and
At school, whenever the teacher would call on me to speak
in class...I would say I was sick and go to the office so
I didn’t have to talk in front of everyone. It wasn’t
until my grade 5 teacher told me how good of a project I
did and he wanted me to become a part of the public
speaking club. I remember being sooooooooo surprised that
anyone liked my project! I honestly can’t remember my
parents ever praising me stuff like that.

I didn’t have a lot of friends in elementary. I just had
one. The one I had...I don’t even think I was very nice
too. We are actually still friends today, 25ish years
later. We laugh about it...but it still hurts me inside.
I don’t think I ever really knew how to have or be a
friend then. I was always alone and had to fend for
myself, having a friend...what was that?

Since me and my sister were five years apart....this was
the only time we ever attended the same school with one
another. I remember walking to school following my her
and her friend and being told I had to walk at least 1
block behind. I remember the snow being deep and it was
cold outside (-20ish)...I walked in my sisters snow foot
prints and would pretend that I was just like her. And
when I started closing in on her and her friend...she
would tell me to stop and wait till they got a least one
block ahead, as I wasn’t to be ever seen with her.

I remember when my sister got the chicken pox and was at
home sick for a week, my mom made me go to her classroom
and retrieve her homework. I was so scared walking down
that hall. I thought all the older kids were going to
beat me up. I didn’t think I was allowed to be there. I
remember walking right up against the wall in hopes that
no one would notice me. I hide around the corner as some
of the kids were talking to the teacher after school and I
was scared to walk in. The teacher noticed me peeking
around the corner and laughed and said "you must be
Shannon's little sister picking up her homework” I
remember taking the homework and practically running out
of there. On my way home I remember thinking I was
surprised no one cared that some young kid was there and
that they didn’t beat me up.
One of the last things that I remember very very well was
a trip that my parents took to Hawaii for two weeks. I
was like in grade 3. My grandparents came to watch my
sister and me. I remember my grandmother telling me I
wasn’t allowed out of the house to play with the kids on
the street as per my parent’s instructions. I wasn’t
allowed to have my friend over and I wasn’t allowed to go
to her house (my one friend). I was so confused. I told
my grandmother I was allowed to, cause I was! I didn’t
understand why my parents would tell her I wasn’t! I was
so sad. Two weeks, no mom, no friends. I really felt
like I was on my own. I remember one night my grandfather
yelling and screaming at me. I don’t remember what
triggered it however I remember his words exactly. He
told me I was the worst kid in the world and why couldn’t
I be just like my older sister. I remember my sister
laughing at me from her room. I remember crying
terribly. I had no idea my grandfather hated me. I
remember my grandmother hugging me and yelling at my
grandpa to shut up. I have NEVER heard my grandmother
raise her voice like that, let alone EVER say words like
that. I remember her consoling me afterwards telling me
he didn’t mean it and that everything was okay. I don’t
remember much after that. I do remember never wanting to
be around my grandfather again though.

I also remember Christmas’s at my grandparent’s house. My
father had two younger brothers and a youngest was a
sister. No one seemed like or get along with my father’s
sister. I remember every Christmas ended in my father,
uncles, aunt and grandfather Yelling, Swearing beyond
belief and my grandmother crying. My mom and Uncles wife
would consol her. While all the kids would sit in the
living room not moving or saying a word. No one EVER knew
why they always fought. Eventually, we just stop having
Christmas together.

It’s sad...these are what I remember from my childhood.
This is it! I don’t remember any of my artwork on the
fridge, and the clay like ashtrays I would make for my non-
smoking mom would always go in the garbage when I wasn’t
looking, or when she thought I wasn’t looking.

I am sure there were good times. I just don’t know what
those looked like. I really don’t.