My childhood was a shit show

I have done this once before during my anniversary month. March 25th of this month I will celebrate 14yrs as a person in recovery from a substance use disorder. You can go to March of 2017 of my blog and read my daily blog during that month. I blogged every day. I chronicled most of my life throughout that month. I am going to give it a go again this year. I didn't write much about my childhood in that month and am going to tell more of my childhood this go around. 

Why didn't I tell more than? Well, my mom passed in January of 2019. When she was alive I didn't want to write things that might hurt her in any way. I don't intend to do that now, say mean spirited things about my mother, simply because she isn't alive, but, I am going to write about some of my experience being raised by a single mom raising four of us in the late 60's through the mid 80's. Being raised by a mom who gave us what I term "dad's of the week". We got used to being woken after bar hours by the latest guy mom would bring home to meet us kids. We learned quickly how to run them off about as quick as they showed up. Most of them, when they learned Mom had four kids didn't stick around long.  I honestly only have a few faint memories of this happening, but, I am sure my older siblings remember more. 

To really put it in simple terms, the title of this blog, it says it all; my childhood was a shit show in so many ways.  I was the youngest of four and to be real honest, their are periods of my childhood I have zero memories. Probably for good reason. I have heard the stories from my older siblings, and, knowing we are all survivors of childhood sexual abuse, it's probably best I don't remember it all.

What do I remember?  Not a ton really. I have always had spotty memories of my childhood. I am talking from about the age of 6-10-ish. I remember a lot from 10-ish on. I remember living in Ocean Shores, WA. between the ages of about 6 to 8ish. I actually have some good memories of living at the Ocean.  I also have some pretty shitty memories I wish I didn't have. The good memories involved having a lot of freedom as a very young boy.  Now, as a parent and grandparent myself, this freedom I had when we were kids, would be crazy to think for a kid to have today. Mom worked nights and slept during the day. She would tell us to get out of the house so she could sleep. This meant us being outside, left to our own decision making for entire days. My oldest brother, who as just a teenager himself, was put in charge of us many times. Imagine that in today's world. Now, Mom worked as either a waitress, cocktail waitress, or a bartender most of her life.  This meant she worked nights.  I don't remember her having day shifts much of my childhood.  Thus, she would leave the house between 2-4pm and not return home until the bars closed. So, that meant for us, a lot more freedom.  I don't remember us having babysitters outside of my brother watching us. I just don't. Mom also did her share of partying after hours, thus, the take home dads, most of which who were just blips on our radars.  

Back to the good memories with having lots of freedom. I remember having free reign of Ocean Shores.  The bowling alley, putt putt golf, go carts, the amphibious vehicle I used to take our dog Bruno on with me, and of course the beach. We roamed all over Ocean Shores. I remember my brother working at the putt putt golf so I am sure I got a free round or two. My brother at this time, even with all of the chaos of our family environment was star athlete at North Beach High School. If there was sport he probably lettered in it.  In Ocean Shores I remember it being football. I loved going to his games.  I would sit with the girls that thought he was the most amazing human around. Not a bad spot to be in really for a kid. My sister's Tina and Cheri were doing there thing I guess.  Honestly I don't have many memories with them.  I mean I know they were there and I remember certain things, but just not your normal memories I guess. 

We have different biological fathers.  My brothers biological father was Gerry Emmerson.  We aren't sure who Tina's is, mom gave us a possible name of Kenny Rogers (she said not the singer, haha), but who knows really.  My sister Cheri and I have the same biological father, Danny Douglas.  Shit fathers...period.  My mother ran from my real father in '67 after he pointed a gun to her head in a drunken rage.  He also sexually abused my brother.  Gerry, same shit. He, who I have shitty childhood memories of just because mom kept taking him back, well my sisters opened up to him sexually abusing them.  Real pieces of work, both of them.  I never knew my biological father until I found him when I was 29yrs old.  While I am glad I found him I can tell you our relationship was never real good.  I could never get over the fact that he left me and my sister.  And get this, I found him living 40 miles from me. He had been living in Bremerton for 20 plus years all while I lived in the Tacoma area most of that same time. Crazy I know. 

I have memories of Gerry in Ocean Shores. He lived with us for a while in an A-Frame house that is still there. It sits on Frigate street in Ocean Shores. I have the memory of waking up to my mom screaming and seeing him hit her. I know my siblings have many more memories than I do. I guess I was fortunate to have suppressed a lot of them. Mom tries with Gerry to many times.  One of the last was in Tacoma that I remember. Always it was the same.  He was highly abusive, as we know to what depth now with knowing the atrocities he put my sisters through, and with our mother.  She was knocked to the ground to many times to count.  

When mom wasn't with Gerry at the Ocean we lived in a motel for a while  Mom managed it, so that meant we were able to live there free. Here's another wild one for you. Mind you, I was about 7, which meant Cheri was 9, Tina was 11, and Bob was 13. We lived separately. Mom had a unit that had the kitchenette, Bob and I shared a separate room and Tina and Cheri, yet another separate room.  All of the rooms opened to the outside too. Yeah, this is a great environment for kids right?!  Shit show. Bob, who was full on in teenager mode, well our room was really all his....I just took up space. The second mom was gone to work he had many parties in that room.  I saw things as a boy that I cringe when I think about it today. I remember one time, and we laugh about this now, when he was having a party and wouldn't let me in our room.  Well, I walked to the Ocean Shores Inn where mom was working and told her.  She busted him having a party!  Haha!  I don't think it ever stopped anything really.  Mom had to work, and we had a lot of free time. Party on for Bob!  Anyway, that was a our living environment for a period our time at the Ocean.

I always say, when talking about out childhood, we moved......it's what we did.  Now, these were not, as you know already, moves

I remember going to Dick's Shoprite and stealing candy with my siblings. I had a large jacket with the lining cut out to be able to fit a lot of candy inside. My siblings would be my cover for the store employee and I would load up on candy.  After getting home my siblings would maybe even give me some.  Remember, I was the youngest and I did what I was told.

I remember going to Ocean Shores Elementary.  I have fond memories of a grade school teacher who's house we used to go to and bake cookies.  This was a positive experience and something we would never see happen now.  I have fond memories of a girl I liked in grade school.  She wore a strawberry shortcake jumpsuit that I thought was neat.  I used to stay on the school bus until her stop and get after afterward. I remember that. 

I remember our dog Bruno. He massive short haired St Bernard that loved us kids. He was with us 24/7.  He was so protective of us we had to get rid of him. Any other dog that would come near us he fought. The police came and told my mom we had to leash him up or get rid of him. If they saw him in public at all he would be shot.  That was it for Bruno. We gave him away and he did get shot not long after for killing a farmers animal. 

I remember coming home from school one day and seeing emergency vehicles at our motel. I remember seeing my mom in the fetal position on the couch.  She had a nervous breakdown.  I am certain this was just one of many.  Mom struggled with depression her whole life. Mom was the victim of domestic violence to many times to count.  I know mom always wanted a family.  This was part of why we had so many men in and out of our lives. A few of them were good, but, mom was never comfortable with good in her life. She always either left them and self-sabotaged so they would leave. 

More tomorrow...