So what's it all for

         So what is it all about? You're probibly asking what "What" is. Well, "What" is everything... love, hardships, life, pain, sorrow, joy,... like I said everything. This is just the thought of a 21 year old who is still young, but has experienced more then his share. I hope this helps alittle in those hard times that we all have faced or will face.

         We all go through them and some people make it through them, and some chose not to, or honestly can't. I'm not trying to say one's right or one's wrong, I'm just typing. I was dealt a terrible hand as a child. I had no father, he was a magician. He heard the word "pregnant" and *poof* disappeared. It's ok to laugh about it, I know he had his reasons, and I'm not mad at him. I would be the way I am today if he hadn't left. I was abused by a man that I thought was my dad, until my 12th birthday. During the time this was going on my mom was in the navy woking all hours of the night, just so she could rest and play with me and my sister on the weekends. She didn't know it was going on. My sister was in 4th grade and learning to write. She was the one that wrote a letter to my mom telling her what was happening when she wasn't home. One night my mom and my "dad" got in a fight and she was walking up the stairs yelling at him. I remember seeing him yell back and then he pushed her. I was maybe 5 years old at the time. Her back was toards me as she started to fall down the stairs. She reached out and grabed the side rail, and she caught herself, but she was still falling. I blinked for only a second. In my mind I saw her hit the floor, my ears heard it actually happen. When I opened my eyes and she was getting up holding her arm yelling at my "dad". He had just broke her arm. My mom was in danger and I couldn't do anything to help. I was 5 wanting to help wanting to help, and I froze. A lot of people think "you were 5, what could youhave done". Honestly, I don't know, but just the feeling killed me inside. My mom had a som with this man, but after that night my mom took my sister, me and my new brother out of that place. We moved to Colorado, where I met "dad #2", and learned the truth. I remember getting in a fight with my sister and slamming her finger in her room door. That was the first time I had ever truely hurt someone. I was so scarred that I begged her to let me help her. She wouldn't let me. That was my first feeling of guilt in my life, I was 10. My sister hated "dad #2" at first, she wanted her real dad back. I didn't understand at first, but time has helped me understand beyond my years, by this time I had been man of the house for 3 years. I liked him, he tryied to be a father figure to me but I was about to turn 12 and I had already been molded to my own values. My 12th birthday the truth about my past was told to me. My mom took me upstairs and showed me a picture of a man that I had never seen before. With tears starting to flow she told me she was sorry for not telling me earlier. She cried. I had gone through the abuse think that my "dad" hated me. SHe told me that the man I was looking at was my real dad. Her tears flowed and she told me how he "didn't want an 18 year aking him if I'm his daddy". As she the tears come she asked me to forgive her for not telling me sooner. I did cause I understood why she waited. She wanted me to be old enough for me to understand what she was telling me, I was 12.

         My sister was 15 when she her best friend to suicide. Her friend was 15, and ended her life with a gun. My sister didn't take it to well. My mom was informed that she was walking around school asking other students for a gun. My sister felt guilty for not being there for her friend, for not seeing it. We had to emit her to an institute. While she was in there she picked up writing, poetry, art. One of her paper to her counselor was about me. She had writen that she felt it was her fault that I keeped getting abused. The counselor showed my mom the letter, then my mom told me. I was told to tell her that I love her and to be nice to her. I did just that on the next visit to see her. She hugged me and started to cry. She told me she was sorry for not stopping it. SHe asked me to forgive her. I was 12 hugging my sister, forgiving her for something she had no control over. Asking GOd to help her and to help me, cause I felt I was loosing my sister. God had gave me that childhood for a reason, and He listened. Wihtin 2 weeks she was released, but she had to meet with a psychiatrist. I was to meet with on to to make sure that I was mentally ok as well. I acted fine as if it hadn't phased me, and that was the only time I met with psychiatrist.

More to come later...