The early years of my personal twilight zone

Washington D. C. 1961

I was born in the base hospital at Andrews AFB, Maryland.  My father was a personnel officer in the Air Force at the time.  My mother had been sent there due to having a cataract in her eye.  Which was the medical practice at the time.

So she wanted a daughter.  And got pissed when I turned out to be a son instead of the daughter she wanted.  So she had a psycho bitch meltdown.  Telling the medical staff she had prayed for a daughter.  She told the medical staff to just swap her out a daughter another mother had produced.  Eventually a shrink was called in to calm her down.  Of course the only reason I know this is having overheard talk over the years.

So from day one I was on my own mother's shit list.  I can't say I exactly remember when the first beating at her hands occurred.  But it was early.  Probably around 2 or so.  I was told she used to have her psycho bitch meltdowns on my two older brothers.  But never actually witnessed her beating them.

Before my first birthday, my mother bullied my father into getting out of the Air Force.  Because she didn't want the family moving around in the military with young children.  At the time there was me, and the two older brothers.  So my father gets a job teaching high school in the southwest Missouri Ozarks.

I remember my mother always being psycho bitch pissed all the time in the early 1960s.  She would scream at my older brothers and I.  And she would chase us. And we would run away.  This is when I received the first psycho bitch beatings that I remember.

Around this time, I remember her being in the bathtub.  And she starts angrily screaming for me to come in the bathroom.  And one of the only two times I remember my father standing up to her on my behalf happened.  He told her to leave me alone.  And she went ahead with her psycho bitch meltdown.  And I  ended up in there washing her with her angrily yelling at me.  I was maybe 2 or 3 at the time.

By this time I was the only one taking her wrath.  She left my 2 older brothers alone.  When I was 3, a younger sister comes along.

Years later, as an adult, I learned my mother was addicted to pain killers during this time.  And sure enough that explains an experience I had during this time.  My two older brothers were in school.  And I was home alone with my psycho bitch mother.  I was hungry.  And asked for food.  And she said something like that's not important, and waved me away from her.  Looking back on this, she was obviously stoned out on painkillers at the time.  She had gotten addicted to them when she had her eye removed at Andrews Air Force Base a few years before.  So she told me to climb up on the counter and fins something to eat.  So when Dad got home, I start asking him for food.  And he figures out Mom is stoned.  So I was told years later she got off the painkillers.

However, around the age of 7 or 8 I remember her asking one of my older brothers friends, a guy named Charlie Jerimiah, to get drugs for her.  So she never did get totally off drugs for a few years.

And many of her psycho bitch meltdowns were out in public.  So needless to say, people in a small town gossip.  And many of the locals were hard core christians.  So after I had taken a few psycho bitch beatings at her hands in public, pretty much everyone in town knew what was going on.  And there was a lady, probably in her 50s who worked in the MFA grocery store on the hill.  Which is what we called the square in our little town.  I never did know her name.  When this lady saw my mom on the hill, she would come out on the sidewalk, and scream at my Mom, "You are going to hell".  Which would obviously throw my Mother into one of her psycho bitch meltdowns.  And I would take yet another savage beating.  So one of these times, my Mother slams me into the side of our station wagon we drove.  And my teeth cut the inside of my cheek.  And I start bleeding a fair amount.  And was spitting the blood out on the pavement of the square.  By standers saw the amount of blood.  And became concerned I might bleed to death.  So they actually pulled my mother off of me.  And used a wadded up paper towel stuck between my teeth and cheek to stop the bleeding.  It was rare for people to pull my mother off of me during these psycho bitch meltdowns.  Usually people just stood around and watched.  Then stood around and looked at each other afterwards.