The bitch who gave birth to me got married to my stepfather somewhere. Don't exactly know where and for sure don't care. I didn't like it and her and my sister may have needed someone to take care of them but I sure as hell didn't.
That attitude has prevailed all of my life. I don't ask for help, I don't need anyone and until recently I didn't really want anyone. I never let myself get close to people, I don't trust people and the only emotion I ever showed was anger or irritation. All they ever did was let me down and hurt me. With the exception of my paternal grandmother.
This attitude worked for me all of my life. It doesn't work for anyone else tho. Others I know have tried to be like me and they couldn't because they all had emotions they couldn't control. How I am worked pretty well for me. Heh, if you leave out the relationship part.
I was quite fine until Pattie made me fall in love with her. Damn woman caused emotions in me I never even knew existed anymore. I suppose she's the reason this blog exists. The only thing I know for sure is I don't know how to deal with emotions and all that comes with them. Never had to learn and suppressing them all was easier. I suspect if I hadn't I'd been dead long ago.
Emotions suck!
After they got married we moved to my step fathers hometown in Mn. It wasn't a bad place, smallish and cliqueish but not to bad. All of his relatives seemed to like me but I didn't like any of them. By then I was ten or so and they were just to normal. I smoked and drank and they were all Catholic goody two shoes types.
My stepfather worked for his brother as a meat cutter and I had to come to the store and work a couple of hours everyday. I still remember cleaning up the butcher shop part, saws, grinders, etc and making ground beef and bagging potatoes into 10 pound bags.
It didn't take me long to start hanging out with the worst kids in town. Funny but the police chiefs son and a preachers son were the two worst. Then came me. ;) You can sure get into a lot of trouble hanging out with a cops kid and a preachers kid.
I was behind in school because back then Iowa was about a year behind Mn. Took me all of two weeks to catch up and another week to pass everyone in my grade. Once again school recommended I skip a grade and once again my mother said no. So school was boring, again.
So we were all moved, I had new friends and nothing had really changed except locations. Well, almost nothing. My mother was more free to hit me and beat me and she did. My stepfather used his fists on me and kicked me but not nearly so often as my mother. He also didn't allow her to get as carried away beating me as she did before.
Lol, after they got married he also stopped giving me money. After a couple of weeks of living with him I learned that money, to him, was measured by the amount of dime glasses of beer he could buy. Yeah, you could get nickle and dime glasses of beer back then.
Every now and then he'd feel guilty and try to do something I liked or enjoyed but he was so inept and most outdoors things it wasn't even fun. The only thing we both liked was shooting the .22s on one of his relatives farms.
So life went on.
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