My childhood was full of abuse bitterness betrayal and most of all filled with regrets. My mom was the abuser of me and all around her. She mentally and emotionally abused her husbands and boyfriends who lived with her. Mainly though she abused her children the most, physically as well as mentally and emotionally.

She was also an abused person as well. Was a very bitter person. Inever heard any good things comeing from my mom to anyone, yet I never heard anyone have anything positive to say about her either.

My dad and grandma who actually did show me love in my chilhood were actually very negative people to my mom. My grandma being moms mother always had negative things to say to my mom about the way her marriage was going and about the way she did with her children.

Dad was the same he never had nothing good to say about our mom to her face nore behind her back. He actually acted like he hated her, yet never could actually stay away from her.

Dad said nice things to us kids but he always had something to complain about. The same with grandma she was always complaining about us kids aggrevating her but she sometimes played around with us and hugged us when we were scared.

My mom never hugged me ever. I can't remember even one time. I was the oldest and the one mom always chose to beat on the most. I felt her hatred towards me and never figured it out.

When I was freshly out of Bonny Oaks group home after our second time in foster care I was 11 years old and mom didn't hit on me. She did start hitting on my younger brothers and sister though and when I tried to take up for them she'd tell me that they were her kids and she could do any damn thing to them she wanted to.

I could stand watching her beat on my little sisters and brothers who were still babies so I started running away from home. I was looking for somebody to love me where I didn't have to be around mom.

I remember my grandparents so well because they are the ones where I can say I grew up at their house. They lived in the projects when I was a todler and I have a scary memory from that time of giving my sister who was a year younger than me some lighter fluid and her drinking it. Its was the most scariest thing I went through then. I was so afraid she would die and I'd get the worst beating that my mom had ever given me. I'm lucky she didn't beat me right then.

Then my grandparents moved to Orear street where they lived out the rest of their lives. They have both passed away. Grandpa was a very distant man and didn't tolerate children too well grandma was always trying to get us to be quiet cause he didn't like the noise. My younger brothers Johnny and Jesse would always do things that made him yell at them, they even panicked him a few time that I know of. He wasn't a very stable man and had a history of mental problems. Grandma even used to tell me that grandpas mom had signed him into a mental hospital once for going out with girls all the time...

Grandma was shy and very timid seeming most of the time. But she would brake into an angry woman when someone messed with her too much. Or she got very aggrevated at us grandchildren. She told me that mom had been a very rebelious child and never minded and they had to send her to live with grandpas mom once because of her wildness. Grandma had finally given up and signed the papers for mom and my dad to be married cause mom wouldn't stay away from dad who was a drinking man grandma never approved of whom grandma had known since she and dad where both children.

Grandma was showed me love though, what little love she knew how to show anyone. She was the very example of a backwards country girl in Tennessee. She had been so shy that she couldn't even find a boyfriend and then she had been so scared of boys in her childhood that she wouldn't go near them. She was always a very timib girl. So one of her sisters, May Bell, sent in an ad to the personals part of the paper and got grandma a man. Her sister had to write for her because she couldn't write or read over a kindergarten level. My grandpa was the man who began to write back. He eventually had to go and stay at their home with them to get to know grandma enough where they could have a relationship enough to get married.

I remember grandma aways smoking us all out of the house whenever she cooked grandpas tobaco in the oven which she used for his pipe. The house would have that smell a long time afterwards. It was a good lingering smell though. I still have that memory everytime I smell cigar smoke. 

My mom, Linda Joyca Lamar, has always been a very abusive, mean, and hateful person. I've always felt sorry for her though since I've been grown. Just reasently she lost the only person who'd been talking to her since mostly all of her childrens (who thank the heavens are now grown) had all been lost to her for her hatefulness. My husband was the only one who'd been left to talk to her. Not even I would answer the phone for her when her number poped up on the ID caller.

Mom was always very abusive to me when I was a child. My back was always the first thing to catch most of her beating, cause its what I turned to her when she started sling her fists. I had a sore back before I even fell off of the cliff on Signal Mountain when I was 13 years old. Mom always used to call me all kinds of names that I even came to like as a child and they never bothered me when others called me by those names, and they still don't.

I ran away from home a lot cause mom would beat on my younger brother and sister Margaret and Dale, hell she even beat on her favorite, the baby, Sarah. Her baby even dislikes her and doesn't even want to go near her with her own child now. Mom didn't do herself any favors by having that hateful attitude shes always had and never lost.

But she had a rough childhood and adulesence. She didn't have the best of parents I am ashamed to admit even here on a personal blog that is mostly hidden from view of those who care anything about the subject. I have the feeling my grandpa wasn't the best of dads, not even a tiny bit. Mom used to call him James Lamar and I never heard her call him dad. Grandma was very timid outwardly, but mostly complained and had a lot of built up bitterness my whole childhood.

But I loved going to grandmas house though, which is what I called it (never grandparents house). Grandma was one of the ones who showed me love, the other being my dad, when my mom never even showed me a speck of kindness much less love. I never ever heard mom say the words I love you, not to anybody and especially not to me. I seemed to be the one she hated the most. The one she took everything out on.

I was the one mom took her anger for not being single and free anymore out on, I was the one she took her anger cause my dad never came home after work on, the one she took her aggrevations out on. I was the oldest and in her way. I never could quite stay out of her way or out of her attentions. When the little kids were too loud I was the one she screemed at. I always tried to figure out why she hated me so much but I couldn't never figure it out when it mattered, then it just stopped mattering.

Now I tolerate her and try to ignore it when she starting trouble which is what shes famouse for. She just can't never leave things along and shes always got to be picking at scabs, breaking them open and never letting them heal all the way.

My husband likes to talk and gossip with his own sisters who are I might add a lot like my mom, so he naturally fell right into talking with mom all the time. Just here the past few days mom said somthing about taping me on the phone when I last talked to her and he got angry and told her not to call anymore, which shes been trying to call everyday but nobody answers.

I am not even going to let myself feel sorry for mom too much cause I know shes brought everything up on herself and never could let things go. So what am I suposed to do about it. I can't get her to change. I can't make her stop doing the things that makes everyone mad. She has been there before on the brink of looking at herself closely and admitting she was wrong and then going forward to change, but she never took the steps that chang a person, she never was willing to go through the process of moveing forward to change herself. I gave up on her a long time ago, I've prayed for her endlessly and wished for her the best. Now theres only the emptyness I've always had when it comes to mom like always!

I miss my dad so much. I still wanna go to my dads place whenever I go to Chattanooga do things. He died back in August of 2005 though.

Dad used to be an alcoholic when I was a child, before he stopped when I was an adulescent and became a struggling family man. When I was a child he would be absent from my life a lot more than I had wanted him to be.

Mom used to take me to the bar where my dad went a lot and send me into get some money. Dad would just talk to me then buy me a hamburger fries or chips and a coke then he'd give me a hand full of coins to play the jukebox or to play pool if there werent no grownups at the table. After a long time it seems to me dad would finally give me some money to take to mom. Mom would jerk it out of my hands.

Dad never physically tried to stop mom from beating on us but he would cuss about it. He tried to run off with me and my sister Linda (who at the time happened to be the only two kids who were out of foster care before Margaret and Dale came along). Dad tried to run off with us to Rockwood more than once but something always happened and we'd never get to Rockwood. Once he ran off with us to Knoxville where our oldest half brother James lived with his wife Janney.

Knoxville was quiet an adventure for me. I almost lost my verginity to a boy I met through Janneys little sister who was my friend while we lived at her grandmas house. Me and Linda stayed there while dad left to go back to Chattanooga to work and make arrangments to go to Rockwood where we were going to live. We got signed up in school and mom came and got us one day while we were about to go outside of the school to walk where we were staying. We knew then that the adventure was over and we were not going to get to go to Rockwood with dad.

My life has been so tough that sometimes its so hard to try to remember whats all happened. I used to try and keep a journal but I always got too emotional and tore them up or threw them away or stopped doing them.

No though on this blog I'd like to try again and not to end it but to just come back again when I'm felling better and stay away when I'm feeling bad.

Memories always come back to me over even just the littlest thing like a song. For instance, once my mom tryed to beat me up on a vist when I was in foster care. The workers had to get her off of me and away from me.

I didn't want to talk on the long trip back to the foster home so the worker just left me along. The music was a kind of soother. It was light easy rock music.

When I miss someone whos passed away I always remember a lot of things and I will post them over the course of this blog.

Please come back for more if your inclined to do so.