Things Were Getting Better… Or Were They?

When I was around 12 years old my grandmother and I got an apartment of our own, I was talking to my mom everday and everything was going good. Until the summer after I turned 14. I would go see my mom every summer in Texas where she was on probation for stealing from my grandma and I and running to another state. So, it was summer break and it was time for me to visit my mom again. My mom and I talked about me going to move in with her over the summer because she claimed things were great and she was clean. Naturally, a child wants to be with their mother so I moved in with her over the summer and things were good until 2 months after I moved. I was noticing little changes in my mom that were all too familiar to me and that’s when I realized she hadn’t been clean at all. After that, things starting getting progressively worse. My mom’s girlfriend (who yes she was still with) abused me along with her 2 sons. They would call me “fat”, “ugly”, “crippled”, and a “crack head baby” (referring to my mom being addicted to drugs and my disability.) I would just cry and wonder why someone could say those things to me. My mom’s girlfriend told lies on me and my mom trying to get CPS to take me away. Until finally a year later we went to visit my grandma in Mississippi one summer and after we came back from our visit that was when we hit rock bottom or so I thought. When we came back we didn’t have anywhere to go because everyone moved out. I can’t exactly tell you why we couldn’t go back because everyone moved all I know is that we ended up staying into Women and Children’s battered shelter. We stayed there for a few months until we finally moved in to an apartment and you are thinking “Well, everything is okay after that.”, right? Yeah I wish I could say that but it wasn’t…

Published by southernhospitality23

I am 25 years old and a mother of 2. I'm also married and apart of the LGBT community.

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