When I was a little girl, the first memory I have is of sitting in my high chair, eating eggs and potatoes. My brother " Joe" was in his crib, jumping up and down, smiling, and making funny noises with his mouth. My childhood turned out to be anything but happy.
My brother and I were physically and emotionally abused by our mother, and later by our step father. I often wondered where is my father? "Arthur" was his name," Arthur Hopkins". To hear mom tell it, he was the scum of the earth, and we, my brother Joe and I, were just like him.
I have two younger siblings, a sister "Tina", and a brother "Mike". Tina was great, she had strong feelings for her big sister. I comforted her, protected her on the playground. Everyone knew, you didn't mess with my little sister. I even played dolls with her, when I was way to old to do so, only to make her happy.
I don't think my parents noticed it, but every time they hurt me, they hurt Tina too. It was her pain as much as mine. My brother Mike on the other hand, he always supported what ever punishment, that they put out against us, not matter how undeserved, or cruel it was. I remember I used to spend a lot of time alone. I liked to be alone.
No one was there to tell you how big, fat, and ugly you were, and certainly , no one was there to back hand my face, for the slightest provocation. Being told I was ugly, especially hurt me. I wanted so desperately to be pretty, so people would like me, I thought.
I was always so tall and clumsy. I so admired the little girls, in their little coordinated outfits. You could see, someone cared about them. I dared not even wish for someone to care about me, and buy me clothes like that. Every once in a while at school, various teachers would ask us, what we wanted to be when we grew up. I always said a secretary, not ever believing that the likes of me, could ever become a secretary. I always had ideas of how one should look in my head. A secretary wore heels, make up, and was, oh so pretty.
I knew that would never be me, but I never knew what else to say. It really was a secret dream of mine , though, I never told anyone . They would have just laughed. When I turned sixteen, a friend told me about a job at the theater, as candy girl. I applied, and only got the job, I think, because my friend put in a good word for me. It was there I met Johnny. He was. oh so dark and handsome I thought, and he liked me! What was wrong with him? Nothing it turned out, he was nineteen, worked at a factory,was a pretty steady guy.
I ran away from home one day, just packed some things in my gym bag and left, never to return. My mom signed for us to get married, after all what did she care? "One less mouth to feed", I believe was her comment. Of course it was a disaster. We were together seven years, but that was seven years too long. We had two girls, he cheated and ran around, he made me go to work when I was emotionally and physically unable to do so.
I didn't clean the house very often . Oh I wanted to, but sometimes I was frozen, I just couldn't bring myself to do things, because I was so miserable .Now I know, I had severe depression, and post traumatic stress disorder, because of the abuse I suffered. Then, I didn't know what was wrong with me. After three failed marriages, I was living in California, and moved back to Chicago. I had friends here, and maybe I was finally growing up.
I got a job in an adult education program, (I had taked college classes in California) after a year, I got a job for the state of Illinois, as a caseworker. I worked there seventeen years. I must say, I feel good about my work. Many times I took the extra time and effort to speed their case along. They were, where I once was. I felt terrible when the workers looked down on me. I went there for help, and I got abuse.
They made me feel like I was a kid again, and someone was telling me how ugly I was. Well, I wasn't going to be that kind of caseworker. I would learn all I could, pass the cases through as fast and accurately as possible, and do my job to the best of my ability. Somewhere along the way , I discovered I could write, I wrote song lyrics, beautiful words that touch your heart and inspire. I write articles. A little note to a friend , so to speak.
