Good Times Gone Bad
I started Looking for the Light on 2-22-2014, exactly 22 years after my father’s suicide. Every year on the date, my emotions/logic are so conflicted. I stopped drinking years ago but every year I get drunk, my coping mechanism. I thought my dad was cool as a child and we had lots of fun. My father had no clue how to parent, it was scream or give in. My brother and I where seeing my father every two weeks.
My father (married) had a girlfriend and liked to party, 8:00 p.m. on Saturday nights he would head out. We were left with our step mother and step brother. It was boring for me. I remember the weekend well. I got dressed, put on my stepmother’s make up and said I’m going with you. He said no at first but it was the well ask me again type of no. I said I had to get out of the house.
I’m 9 years old but I looked older, not that much older. I received a lot of attention from the guys and it made me feel good. It made me feel pretty, when I got older the memories screwed up my view of relationships. Being the life of the party was great. I know there were several men who would have slept with me if I’d let them. My dad had one club he liked, I became a regular.
He would find a couple of women he knew and asked if they would keep an eye on me. They did, asking what I wanted to drink, do you want black molly’s or ludes? My dad was dancing all night so we only saw each other when we danced together. My father had a warped sense of being proud by showing off his daughter. I’m 9 years old, people must have thought he was crazy. Those who had any sense.
He was an alcoholic, I’m not sure he thought anything was wrong. Eventually it led to parties after closing time. I saw an orgy while walking upstairs looking for a bathroom. People were everywhere. I had to step over people on the stairs. People saying take off your clothes and join us. There was all types of sex going on and some in a group. My mind could not process. I knew nothing about a mans dick let alone what to do with it. I’m 9 yrs old, a child but no longer a child. At parties my dad would get a couple of joints for me, he knew I was smoking pot. I was having fun, my dad was cool. It became our weekend ritual, sometimes not coming home until four a.m., crazy. My dad’s nick name was Foxy, I was Foxy Jr. I believe his mental illness was driving this madness.
Another memory my brother has to live with, I’m thankful he doesn’t know the worst. I went to live with my father at 12 years old. We continued to go out until I met my boyfriend, 21 years old. This guy must have had big problems. I’m no prude but a 12-year-old doesn’t date, let alone a 21-year-old drug dealer. You can read ” I Almost Killed My Father” and get a bigger picture.
My father was jealous of Sterling. The relationship with my father started a tumble. This is when the sexual abuse escalated. It started with him kissing me, slightly pushing himself towards me. I pushed him away saying “I’m not your girlfriend”. I never imaged where it would go from here. This was the beginning of the worst to come. My therapist is the only one I’ve told. Sexual abuse left me with warped ideas about sex and relationships as I got older.
Those were visible scars, there was an iceberg below. I don’t know how long it will take for me to process this time of my life. Those are the only words I can say out loud at this time.
I want to thank G, his courage has gave me the strength to wipe dust off my box. If you are in an abusive relationship, please reach out. There are many survivors of every type of trauma who will gladly hold your hand or lend a shoulder. This is a place where you can remain anonymous and no questions asked.