My family & Insanity

Born to my mother, who had shortly left him he was, who I believed for the first 25 years of my life to be my father. I was raised by my mother and stepfather, who passed on 2000. I heard whispers about me belonging to a mystery man, but never thought much about it. He contacted me last year. We did a DNA test and yep, I'm his daughter. My mother had an affair with her husband's sisters husband. (her brother in law) Yeah, talk about a sticky situation.

Although I am glad that I know now- my family barely speaks to me. They have a whole lifetime of bonding. My brother and sister are grown and have children of their own. Finally, I belonged somewhere. Living my entire life as a stepchild, I thought I would have acceptance. Sometimes though, blood isn't enough.

I had my first child at the age of 14. I got pregnant because my cousin had a friend stay the night, and I woke with him on top of me. I have raised my son on my own. He is now 12. His father decided to take an interest in him after silence all these years. He is extremely ignorant and constantly makes sexual remarks to me. He also corrects me when I refer to tyson as my son, instead of our son. I refuse to acknowledge that his 8 months of "parenting" qualify him to make a decision. I merely am appeasing Tyson. The only reason he has any contact with him is because his paternal grandmother called up one day while I was at work. My boyfriend, Bill, let him go with her, although we had not heard from her in 4 years or so. She then got her son to come over and meet Tyson. Yeah- sneak attack. Please understand- He has repeatdly asked me to let him sign off on tyson, never paid me the meager $50.00 US for support, never helped me at all, and he has a litter of children, whom he does not support.

When I was 15, I lived in my own trailer. On December 22nd 1996, It burned down. Because I could not afford to buy more kerosene for my heater, I had turned on the stove to warm the house. Next to the stove was a can of crisco, which eventually melted and leaked onto the burner, causing a fire. I lost everything. What I was able to salvage in pictures and things of Tyson's childhood, I would later lose. This is because as I was moving into a rental in 1999, the children next door stole the file box off the back porch. I never recovered them. I am one of those people that gets the brunt of life handed to them- I find comfort in the saying, what does not kill us, makes us stronger. It may be a simplistic thought, but it rings true for me. Sometimes that all that people like me have to cling to, to cope.

I have lived a rough life. It may not be as rough as what some's plight is in this. Maybe I'm being a big cry baby. But here it is, a brief snippet of my life. Your depressing story of the day!