Embrace the Sparkle - Telling the WHOLE Truth


Today many of you my dear friends were subjected to a horrible rant on my my wall.  A niece of mine who I have always held dear became annoyed with the issues between her mother and me.  At some point my sister's new boyfriend decided he wanted to take the phone (I'm hoping he took it) and post some really horrible things on my page.  He called me names, belittled me, attacked me and my "witchy" friends.

First and foremost I want to apologize to those that were attacked.  I was out in my car going to pick up prescriptions to take to the nursing home for my mother and I did not know how to remove the post, or remove her as a friend.  I tried to make light harted jokes and make light of it, but really it was a vile thing to do.

He made reference to my coming in and out of my families life and not being able to "take it" to hang around. He said that I should tell all of the truth.  Many of you have read the posts I've made regarding child sexual abuse, drug and alcohol abuse as well as my day to day struggles with being diagnosed with bipolar disorder.   And I have left out many of the gory details that I didn't think really were necessary.  At this point I'd like to post a trigger warning and offer that those that are triggered by these types of things to please come back another day to read my blog.





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I was born to a high school drop out mother and a father who was in prison.  She "SAID" I was conceived on a visit, however no one on my father's side of the family agrees with that.  See my mother took a little trip up to Chicago with my "father's" uncle to get bail money for him.  They say when she returned she was pregnant with me.

I born and left to live with my grandmother and my cousin Tony. I lived with her until my mother showed up pregnant again with my sister.  She was going to leave that one there too, but my grandmother said, no more babies.  She found my stepfather and married him.  When I was five she took me from the only home I ever knew and put me in the house with him.  I remember being of the age to write my name on the wide pages for kindergarten and the little girl next to me telling me that her father kissed her and pointed to her mid section.  I said, OH mine does too ... She called me a liar and said her daddy said she was special and no one else got that.  I never told another soul until I was 14 years old.

My step father had sex with me nightly while my mother watched tv in the living room. To clarify, it was oral sex. Sometimes when she'd go to the store he'd put my two younger sisters in the bath and have sex with me. Today when I'm scared or upset I get in the bath, it's always seemed to be a safe place for me.  When I was 13 my baby sitter and I had sex and the rubber broke.  I thought I was pregnant so we pretended the house was broken into.  Of course the cops figured it out and told my parents.  When my step father found out his once oral only rule was broken and he began penetration.

My step father didn't allow me to spend the night off or go anywhere.  My middle sister and I cleaned the house and did the dishes while my mother sat and watched tv and ignored us.  OH wait, she did managed to go off with an Old man once in a while for money.  She would stay the weekend with him and he'd pay her.  While she was off with him, my step father would put me in his bed.

At night sometimes I'd lay on the floor next to his bed and listen to him breath.  I had a fishing knife I used to carry, and I'd lay there trying to get the courage to stab him in his throat.  See he was a nasty hateful man.  He would wake us up in the middle of the night at ages 8 and 9 line us up in the living room and proceed to call us whores and sluts.  He'd smack us.  My mother sat and watched.  She said nothing.  She played cards.  Never even looking at us.

At age fifteen I'd had enough.  See he came in and hit my middle sister in the face.  I lost it.  I grabbed the keys from the counter and ran out to steal the car.  I took it to a friends house where I tried to get a gun to kill him.  My friend wouldn't give me a gun.  When I finally went back home, my mother looked at me and said, You're lucky I didn't call the law on you.  I remember thinking, I was trying to save you, to save my sister.  The night ended with a knock down drag out fight where I was punched in the face and he was kicked in the nuts.

Not too long after that I left for good.  I ran to my "real" father.  This may rub some the wrong way, but we want the truth right?  My real father offered me acid, pot and alcohol.  The only thing I had done up to that point was a little bit of weed.  One night he was very drunk in the yard and I went out and said what's up.  He pulled me down and tried to have sex with me.  I got up and ran down the road and the followed me in his car.  I got inside the car and he said to me.... You'll give that to him but not me?   Don't you love me?  I gave up and I gave in.   While he was having sex with me I closed my eyes and went to another place.  I found flowers and streams that I could play in all inside my head where there was no one to hurt me.

At some point his wife found out and he had to take me to Florida to live with another sister.  I stayed there for a while but he ended up coming back and forth.  He was indeed unstable.  He cut me across my head, he cut himself in front of me.  We rode around to different towns where he would get me to lure people outside so he could take their money.  I was scared and alone.  I heard him talking about doing a 'strong armed robbery' and I didn't want to be part of that so I took a bit of cash I had and bribed his brother into taking me to meet my mother in a small town.

I went back to the house and told my mother I didn't want to stay in the house with Charlie.  She told me I had to.  I found my old babysitter still there and he wanted to get back together, and I thought, at least if I was married Charlie would leave me alone.  Today there's a picture of my first husband (the babysitter) and I on a couch in the trailer.  About 5 minutes before that picture Charlie told me that we were going to start again.  I look at that picture and all I see is hate.

The babysitter and I didn't last long.  About 2 months to be exact.  I went back to Florida to my sister's because my father was in jail and I thought great now I'm safe.  I sent the babysitter packing and was ready to start my life.  At this point 16 and pregnant.  When the babysitter got home my father showed up to find me.  He told my father where I was.  I completely freaked out and my sister and I hid at a burger king for the entire day.  When we pulled back into the driveway my father was there with a gun.  He put it to the back of my head and told me to get in the car.  I did.

For the next few weeks we road around Florida.  I wasn't allowed out of his site for a second.  He burned me, he cut me and he raped me repeatedly.  One afternoon he was trying to break into cars in a parking lot because my little pinto had broken down on the side of the road.  The cops picked him up.  When the saw me they asked where I lived.  The couple that was with us said they'd take me in so I went to the hotel with them.  They promptly wanted me to have a threesome.  (really?)

I left in the middle of the night walking to find a bus station.  An aunt of mine sent me a bus ticket to go stay with her.  She was really nice to me.  So nice in fact that my brain couldn't take it and I ran away.  I was so confused.  I remember being in and out of a fast mind and a slow mind.  Now I can look back and know I was cycling.  I ended up back in Florida and miscarried.

A few months later my sister in Florida's mom was going back to NC to visit her family and asked me if I wanted to come.  Silly as it is, I went.  My mom told me she'd get me back home to Florida.  When I arrived I told her I was going to stay with an aunt because my mother was STILL married to my molester.  She said ok.  When I came back the follow day for the reunion she told me she wasn't paying to send me back home because I wouldn't stay with Charlie.  I lost my car, my job and all my stuff.

I ended up moving in with my aunt in Virginia and getting my GED.  I started working at McDonald's where I promptly had a nervous break down.  I was taken out of work for 3 months and I went back to Florida with my other aunt to relax.  At this point, I had no therapy and hand told no one about my life.

I went back to VA to go back to work, I met my second husband.  He was 12 years older than me.  I told him about my life on the first night we went out.  He promptly screwed me.  I became pregnant and he had me "hide" from his mother so that she wouldn't know he had me on the side.  I never saw her until she walked into my hospital room with a cigarette and wanted to see the baby.  I realized very quickly that I was not meant to be with him.  My daughter was born when I was 18 years old.  I told my husband I was a lesbian at 19.

I lived with him for 12 years to help raise his children.  I took care of them the best I could as a kid with no training at all.  We had an arrangement.  I would go out on the weekends and see the women I wanted, as long as I stayed home during the week and cooked and cleaned.  It was fine as long as I was dating girly girls.  However my little heart quickly went pitter patter for a little butch and the shit hit the fan.  I was kicked out cold in the middle of the night.  My daughter was told that I was a lesbian and that I was unfit to be a mother.

I spent the next 2 years in another abusive relationship while I watched as my daughter was taken away.  Really my only reason for living.  As her father drove away with her in the car, I kept hearing his words.  Get a home, get stable and you can have her back.  I got a good job, I got a house and I sent message after message.  He kept telling me  how a witch and a dyke couldn't raise a kid.

I decided I would end it.  I wanted to see California.  I stopped in Kentucky to say good bye to my daughter and drove to San Diego where a friend of mine lived.  I was there ready to die.  It was all I could do to wake up in the morning.  I went to see a psychiatrist there and he told me I was bipolar and promptly started me on meds.  One thing I left out in this story is that I started out weighing about 300 lbs and by the time I was heading to California I was down to 110.   I had a gastric bypass surgery to try to lose weight.  It worked to the point.  I met the love of my life in California.  He's amazing.  He's strong and understanding.  he helped me get my daughter back.

We got my daughter back and we both worked hard to get her into a great school where she could go to college.  We both lost our jobs and had to work crap and eat nearly nothing, but dammit she had a senior gown and a picture.  We even got her a class ring.  She was accepted into a private college in Oakland California.

While she was in her senior year my husband and I decided to move back east because of his job in Virginia.  We moved back to a little town just outside where I grew up.  I thought I was far enough away.  Hubby would leave for work on Sunday and come back the following Friday night.  My weight ballooned to over 268lbs and my family slowly began to make me insane.  My cycling became worse.  I am what you call a rapid cycling bipolar.  Bad food, bad energy and lack of sleep trigger my events.  He ended up having to quit his job to stop me from going to the loony bin.

Slowly over the next 4 years we got it back together.  He got me back to a vegetarian lifestyle.  He was able to keep me away from my family.  I only saw them once ever other week.  I was slowly becoming myself again.  Our kid graduated from college and moved back home for a year to get ready to go to school abroad.  After she left for school again we were those fun loving kids again.  Riding the motorcycle and having a great time.

Then in January I got a call from my sister telling me that our mother was in the hospital.  I told her I'll be right there, to support her.  I walked in the hospital and she walked out.  She left me to take over.  I'm the oldest after all.  It's my job.  HUH?  Wait what?  How is it my job to take care of some old lady that I don't even know just because she happened to be the twat I fell out of?  Really?  Yes, harsh.... Did I mention not only did she stay with my step father until he died of cancer but she also had another child with him?  Yeah, mom of the year she ain't.

So over the months from January - June I was able to get her on medicaid.  Get her sugar back to normal, get her weight down and get her healthy.  Granted she still had renal failure but at least we were trying to get her back up.  I got her on a full organic diet and got her to the doctor.  We got her teeth and glasses.  Because of the renal failure, she had a lot of accidents.  She did not have great control of her bowels.  Needless to say I was slowly going down into a serious depression.  I started putting on weight again.  I was negative and moody.  My mind filled with suicidal thoughts.  I reached out to my sister asking if she could take her for a while, or maybe for a weekend.  She laughed.   One day we told her that hubby and I nearly got hit while we were on the bike, her response was, You can't die and leave me here with her. (referring to our mother)


In May my mother developed an infection from sitting in her own poop too long.  With my sister's assistance we got her into the hospital which allowed me to get her into a nursing home.  That should be a good thing right?  Well apparently not.  Now I'm being accused of sneaking her out of the hospital and stashing her away in a nursing home without telling anyone.  She's accusing me of stealing from her and being a drug addict.

Yesterday I get a message saying "Mama's out of pills, you're keeping her meds" "I'm going to a lawyer" and I go to the home and they said, she's got plenty of medicine, no one told your sister any of that.

Today I got a text telling me that she was going to file a paper to revoke my power of attorney.  Which is really funny because I resigned that last week and filed it with the court. AND told her I did.  What kills me, is that I'm the unstable one.  I'm the one that gets messages posted on her wall calling her names, "bi polar bitch" I believe was one.  SMH

So there it is.  The entire, ugly truth.  My life out in the open for all to see.  Hopefully I haven't misled any of you.  Hopefully after seeing this those in my life that feel they know it all after only being in the family a few months will do me a favor.  Leave me alone.  Don't text me, don't email me, don't call me, don't post on my wall and I do mean every single word of that.

Embrace the Sparkle
Looking forward to some positive energy.

Namaste & Blessed Be
Sosanna
)O(

Renee Olson

Wife, Witch with the Metal Skills of a Dark Elf. I spend my time working with wire, weaving life and magic.

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