Ride along on a journey that starts from a disfiguring childhood accident to years of abuse and bullying, and ends with a life full of success, happiness, and love.
As I got older, this escalated to the point of near destruction. The senseless physical abuse and mental torture I endured from my father was unmerciful. As a child, I was a bed wetter until I was somewhere near 10-years-old. This added much stress to the already dysfunctional life I lead. I felt that, here again, I was not normal and a freak or misfit. The beatings and agony from my father went on for several years. My father had a much different approach on my bed-wetting. He figured that I was just too lazy to get out of bed to go to the bathroom. He reasoned that I would much rather lie in the bed and urinate all over myself. So his diagnosis and plan was that he would beat it out of me! This punishment did not work, and if anything escalated the problem. These moments seemed to last an eternity. This continued to feed and fuel the hatred deep down inside me that I had for him.
I describe how I ended up homeless at sixteen; my home a tent pitched in the forest, my kitchen and living room a campfire and a folding chair, my grocery store the wilderness that surrounded me.
The descent into the dark hole of pain continued for many years. At times this descending path was a free fall and then it started to slow down. I managed to grab on to something in this crevice I had created and stopped from going any deeper.