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MY BIOGRAPHY WILL BE POSTED IN MONTHLY SEGMENTS. DUE TO THE URGINGS AND ENCOURGEMENTS OF TOO MANY FRIENDS TO WRITE MY LIFE STORY, I'VE DECIDED THAT HERE AT MARINE LIFE IS WHERE I SHALL BEGIN TELLING IT. EXPOSING MY LIFE WHICH I'VE TRIED TO HIDE FOR SO LONG, IS PROBABLY THE HARDEST JOB I'LL EVER HAVE. SO, THIS BIOGRAPHY IS FOR ALL MY FRIENDS WHO LOVE ME FOR WHO I AM TODAY REGARDLESS OF WHO I WAS, YESTERDAY. A SPECIAL HEARTFELT THANKS AND DEDICATION TO MY FRIEND IQBAL AHMAD RASHID OF RAWALPINDI PAKISTAN. MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENCOURAGER IN THIS WRITING ENDEAVOR. I LOVE YOU IQBAL.
I was born on the coldest day of February 14th 1955 in a small town of Pennsylvania. My mother did not want me because she was no longer in love with my dad and hoped to one day be with her lover. Anyway, I was indeed born. A bluebaby. Very sick. Mom said to leave me to die in the hospital because she did not want to be stuck with an ill child. And besides that we were very poor and there would not be enough money to care for me and tend to my oldest brother and two older sisters. At her request to leave me for dead, she began hemoraging and almost died herself in the hospital. My dad was distraught! The doctors waited for his decision as to what to do, he said, "save them both, I will find a way to pay."
My mom regained her health first, but I was weak and had to undergo 3 full blood transfusions. 3 because my body kept rejecting every type. The type I have now is o+, makes me a universal donor. Mom and dad got to go home without me, but it was dad who always came to see me, he said. Mom still did not want me and tried so hard to get dad to give me up for adoption. He would not do it. Soon after, my mom lost her boyfriend and she always felt that it was because of me. That left me as an infant in the hands of a totally angry and grieved woman.
Anyway, because I was left in the hospital for so long, and not really expected to live, there was never a name put on my birth certificate. Under the part where it asks for the babys name, mine only says Infant Daughter, born to Doreen Saget Emery. There is not even a fathers signature, or a doctors signature in the areas calling for one. That is because I am not my fathers daughter. I was the baby of her boyfriend. But my dad did love my mom, and he did not blame me, an innocent tiny baby, for the ills she brought to his life. No matter what, he loved her enough to at least keep me as his own. His gesture was good, but my life was a living hell at the hands of mom. Here I will not get into the details because there is just too much. Briefly, I suffered burns by her holding my hands over the top of a hot stove, she beat me repeatedly, kept me locked in an attic all day while dad was at work, and she tried to poison me before the age of 5. She was in a word, mean. My whole life she was mean! This caused me great psychological problems. You cannot imagine the enormity of them. It would take me at least 10 years to tell you everything. Pehaps one day that will be another book.
Skipping years ahead, to my age of 15. I was raped. Scared to death, I did not know what to do exactly. But, I did somehow get the nerve to tell both my parents. My dad broke down and cried, while my mother slapped me repeatedly calling me a dirty slut and whore, and said that because I lost my virginity before marriage that I was doomed to burn in Hell. That scared the Holy Love of God right out of me!! I was not too bright then, so naturally I believed her. She and dad knew who the guy was, (Joe) and since he was always bothering around me in the first place they said I would have to marry him as soon as I turned 18 and would have to get out of the house immediately at that time. My life had became a hotter living hell than it had even been before when I was little.
In those 3 years between 15 & 18 I had run away 5 times and tried to commit suicide. Once by slashing my wrists, once by an attempted jump off a bridge, and once by taking an overdose of crack cocaine. Nothing worked! I was rescued every darn time! I felt that I was so bad that even death would not take me. I hated living and I could not find a way to die. Indeed, I had become convinced that life on earth was hell with no escape. I was stuck big time in this living nightmare.
It was during my 15th year that I did begin to listen about Jesus, but, I was raised to think that Jesus was God. And as I already told you, God was already scared right out of me. But something with that never really quite fit with me spiritually, so on my own, in my own decrepid mind, I became so angry with this Jesus guy. How could I believe in a God who allowed parents to be cruel to their own chldren? I just needed someone to blame for my life.
I would talk to this Jesus and swear at him. Telling him he was NOT GOD and anyone who trusted him to be was insane because I would not believe that IF there truly was a God for this world, that he would never allow my life to be as it was. Oh boy was I ever messed up!!! I became extremely hard and cold hearted.
Knowing my destiny was to marry Joe and have no choice about it, I got sneaky, in a dumb way. As 18 was approaching I was so afraid to become Joe's wife for life. All I could see in my mind was this fat grotesque unmannered slob having his way with me!!! grrrr just thinking this is pissing me off! Anyway, I toughend up, and began to think that if I could just pretend I liked him that he would not be so hard on me. I WAS WRONG! Anyway, my plan was to be nice to him. He could not wait to get his grubby hands on me, and I couldn't wait to leave home. I began to see him as my ticket away from my mom who was making my life more and more unbearable. I told Joe that I would marry him, but did not want my parents to see it happen. He could have cared less, so he agreed, and on my 18th birthday we ran away and eloped. Oh I felt so sick!!! There I was, out of the frying pan and into the flames themsevles!!
That first night with him alone was the second most disgusting episode of sex I had ever experienced !!! The first being the time he had raped me. Actually, I did sort of have sex before that too. In a sick way. You see, I was molested by my oldest brother from the age of 3 til I was 12. But that episode of my life is a whole other story for you, if you think you could ever stand to hear it! Perhaps another book?
Ok Joe was husband #1. He drank heavily, rarely came home, and when he did he would have his disgusting ways with me and then beat the living day lights out of me. When I became pregnant with my first son, Joe accused me of having an affair and denied being the father. I was devasted at his accusations but on the other hand I was kind of glad he denied being the father. I DID NOT WANT HIM TO BE THE FATHER OF MY BABY!! Anyway, at 3 months pregnant, he came home one night drunk, and wanted sex. I said, NO WAY I HATE YOU! That did it!!! I set him off on a good fight this time. He beat me so hard that I almost lost my baby, ended up in the hospital and had very bad complications during the rest of that pregnancy. During the rest of the pregnancy and my time with Joe, I had been beaten into such submission that I gave up the fight. On the outside anyway,....in my heart I had promised my new baby that I would one day get us out of there. And, I did.
When Curt was 18 months old I had stolen and saved just enough money from my husband to run away. Far, far away. As far as I could, to San Diego California.
to be continued...
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