I have huntington's Disease
2010-12-23 02:09:29 (UTC)

Entry #1.......My earliest memory....

....Let's see.......I don't have a lot of early childood memories, I remeber that I used
too, but for the life of me I cannot remember the memories I remember I used to say THAT three times fast...anyways

My earliest memorie is when I was about six or seven years old. Back then I used
to be able to tan, but after puberty all I could be was pasty white with freckles...but

Hulk hogan was my HERO. I had hulk hogan wrestling buddies, all the way back to
the posable action figures..not the jointed kind, the kind that had the metal wire and
the soft plastic that came out when parents didn't care about what their kids put in
their mouths. I am talking about taylor, mi back when it wasn't scary to outg at night
without a gun....when we didn't have air conditioning and we were hot and sweaty
and would run our heads under the hose and take off running.

My first memory is my father beating me. Beating all of us. My first memory is my
mom with a bloody nose. We were living in a crap apartment and my parents were
blasted...high on who knows what and drunk as a skunk.
My dad was drunk. (And saying he was drunk would put it mildly) my mom was in
the kitchen and we were getting ready to go see uncle stephen and watch wrestling.
My dad was saying a bunch of whole nasty shit to my mom. (Things a real man
wouldn't say to the woman he loved and definitley not in front of the children)
We got to uncle stephen's house and my dad took his attention off my mom. I
guess she said something he didn't like or she was breathing wrong or if she was
asleeo. He never really needed a reason. He liked to do it, to make himself feel big.
He was the terror of my life. we got in the car and she was behind the wheel he
started punching her in the side of the head, then made her drive home with us in
the car. We got home and there was no beer and no money. So my dad took the bag
of Funyuns my mom bought us with her last few dollars tore it open and ground it
into the floor. Calling mom the stupid mother effin c-word idiot. I coulda got three
forties(beer) grinding her face into the funyuns and beationg her head with an
ashtray.I was crying for him to stop so hard that I peed my pants...which turned his
attention onto me...
One hand pics me up off the floor by my hair and the other one swinging at me
with his belt. "Wanna get the belt?" Was the phrase I dreaded. I pleaded for him not
to hit me. "I love you daddy" "your hurting me" and screaming and crying. "Please,
stop" he beat me with that belt until I had welts everywhere. Thinking about it I
always did wonder why my mom and dad always made me whear long sleeves and

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