Here is my family history. My grandfather died when my mother was 5 years old. I don't know exactly why. He was shot to death and from what I understand it was an accident, as in they thought he was someone else. My mother grew up extremely poor, in an area that did not have any running water until 1990 or so. She had to start working at 7 years old. My grandfather's family had some money and they would help somewhat but not very much and they looked down at my grandmother's family. My mother is the oldest of 5 and they have an older half sister from my grandfather's previous relationship. They didn't have much to eat and had to rely on handouts for food. I feel sad when I think of the life that she had. As they got older, they moved into other family member's homes. I don't know if this is when it happened, but I do know that at around the age of 11 my mother was sexually abused by an uncle. I also know that she tried to tell her mother and her mother did nothing about it. So at about age 17 my mother met my father. I don't know where, or how. My father also grew up extremely poor. He was the youngest of 7 kids. He would get beat up all the time by his older siblings. They would berate him, make fun of him and literally beat the crap out of him. One of his parents had cancer and they would ask for massages and he would sneak out of the house. My father had a lot of guilt for doing that because his parent died as he was sneaking out. I know taht my father went to school and he alleges that he was eitehr 2nd or 3rd in his class and he and the other 2nd or 3rd in the class would discuss killing the smartest student by throwing him over a bridge. I don't know if I believe that. So my parents meet. They get married. I was told that before my mother was ever pregnant she knew - she knew she had made an enormous mistake. She wanted a divorce. Unfortunately for her, we are all very strict Catholics and her mother told her that the committment was for life. There was no way out. She stayed with him and had two kids. They decided to move to America. They left my brother and sister behind and went to New York. There she got pregnant with me. Once I was born they went abck for my brother and sister and then we were one big happy family. So as far as I know, we had problems from the beginning. My mother ended up with an STD. My father accused her of having an affair. If you knew my mother you would know that that could not be true. My father was having affairs. He was verbally, physically and emotionally abusive. He would beat teh crap out of my brother for every little thing. He would call us stupid and that we would never amount to anything. He would call my sister into the bedroom and tell her that he was going to make so much money and that she would never accomplish anything. He would be cruel and make fun of us. He felt that his children were a waste of money. He never wanted to buy us anything - clothes, books anything. Food was an absolute necessity or I'm sure he would have argued that one too. I can remember wanting to help him in the garage and he gave me the water hose to clean the floor. I was 7 or 8 years old. I turned it on and it was too powerful to hold on too. It sprayed water on the walls and he got so mad at me. He called me stupid and took it out of my hands. Can you imagine calling your child stupid? Do you know what that does to a child? When I was 2 or 3 I didn't want to finish my dinner. My father started to beat the crap out of me with a belt. I can still remember my legs and the welps and the bleeding. I know that my sister tried to step in and then he beat the crap out of her. Another time I didn't want to eat my soup. My uncle was watching me. He told my father I didn't want to eat. I can remember running from my father as he chased me with a belt. We had a neighbor with a daughter my age. I can remember not being allowed to go over there. Once I did anyway and I ended up with chicken pox. My father beat the crap out of me for that. He sexually abused me. At the age of 2 I can recall certain instances in the bathroom that don't make sense. I can remember being older (7) and he would watch movies with nudity with me in bed and I also remember having him rub my legs in an inappropriate way. There are some other things that he did that I won't go into detail about. I don't remember telling my mother anything. We grew up very afraid of him. I can remember hearing him walk into the house and just sitting in my room hoping that he wouldn't come talk to me. I remember once hearing his footsteps stop at my door because he was watching me. Weirdo. The catholic school I went to was an ok school. The janitor once told me that if I wanted to I could sleep in his office. He took me back there and he had a small bed. He also gave me a card once with $5 and my mother was so pissed she told him to stay away from me. He was another weirdo.