Deep in the core, pt 1
Hey everyone.
I've had blogger for almost a year and I still don't know to work it. Literally spent a hour trying to change my little introduction. Aghh. Anyway I really never introduced my self in case you don't follow me on Instagram. I thought I might do that on another post. Today I felt that it was time to share some stories of myself before I became a mother. I won't sugarcoat so it might be a little raw.
.
.
.
Of course from the beginning, My dad (my heart) and my mother met in San Antonio years ago. My mother is from Mexico and my father is from Tehran, Iran. That is in the middle east right next to Iraq. I know right, crazy. Two people from opposites sides of the world meeting in a large city. Well fast forward they got married and had two beautiful daughters. I didn't understand at the time, I was around 5 years old, when my father left out of the country to visit my dying grandfather why I had a new "uncle" coming around the house. Well a couple of months after my "uncle" continued to show up my father finally caught my mother. My father told me today it was me to told him about my mother's cheater. He ask me "baba does anyone come around the house when I'm gone" and I responded by saying "Uncle Carlos". Yeah I blame myself for breaking my fathers heart and my family up. Even before that happened, my mother had her first child (our older step-brother) visiting us all the time. He lived with his own father so my mother only had visitation rights. My father always made sure my mother was spoiled with love, adventures around the world, and even supporting her first child.
I remember vividly of our last night together as a "normal" family. It was around 1997-1998 I was 5 or 6 years old and I heard screaming and yelling in the kitchen and I woke up panicking at all the commotion. I remember seeing my parents kind of wrestling because my mother had a knife in her hand. I remember hearing my father saying "stop maria the kids are watching". I was crying and my sister was right next to me screaming her head off. I remember holding her and just telling her "its ok". The police ended up at our house and they arrested my father. I remember he had his body faced forward walking to the police car like if he was ashamed of the situation we were all in. At that time, I didn't understand why they took him away...
Years fast forward because everything after was a blur. [Sometimes I wonder how I can remember a time so vividly like it just happened yesterday and then there times I can't remember shit.] My father was granted visitation every other weekend and we never saw our older brother Ray anymore. My mother found a new boyfriend and can you guess who it was? Yes it was Uncle Carlos. My mother then had another baby boy, our half-brother, named Carlos Jr. My sister and I loved him so much, funny times we had. I felt that I was living in a double life between my parents. My father was very protective and strict than my mother who always let us do what we wanted. I thought everything was good but as I got older I started to notice some odd stuff. My mother use to have us walk together to the corner store every weekend. It started off with one or two beers then led to more. She ended up being an alcoholic, always gone for the weekend. My step dad would babysit us or we would go with my dad's. At the time I thought that was normal, because she always came back to use after the weekend. It was when my step-dad went to prison that things started changing for the worse...
My step-dad was our primary supporter so after he went to prison my mom moved from job to job, until she had a major accident at this one job. She was working at a bakery factory and slip on the wet floor, she had a herniated disc. So my mother found other type of ways to support us. Not knowing at that time that my father was never aware of anything she did. She meet different men when she went out and randomly had them over, for a hour or so then they were gone. She always told us they were all her friends, and we never asked more. She would bring her friends daily and I didn't remember much of them just when they would go we always went out to eat or to the thrift store to shop. (Yes that's where my thrifting skills came from, lol) My mother got two DWI and was put on house arrest, probation, even on a breathalyzer. I remember she would try taking of the machine off her foot and still go out at night. In the morning we would catch the bus and I would blow in the breathalyzer for her. I didn't know what that thing was for, I just thought it was fun.
During these years I was in middle school and I had my own life with friends. I was always away from the house as much as I could be. I played outside after school until it was like 9, 10, even 11. I remember my dad would check up on us a lot because he never liked the fact my mother never had a set schedule for us. He would come more than once a week to do homework with us, even came to our school to put money in our lunch account. I remember he would always come pick us up in a limo, at that time it was embarrassing. I went to school and lived on the Eastside (not so nice) and my dad lived on the Northside (rice side). That's also what I meant about living that double life.
So after two years or so, Carlos got out of prison. My mother stayed home as house-wife while my step dad became the provider again. Still my mother was going out every weekend, I just hung out with my friends more. I remember during the times my mom would go out she would be late coming home, sometimes a day or two late. I got use to it. Until when it was almost my 12th birthday, I went to school just like any normal day. Then I received a call to go to the office. My father was on the phone line and he said something happened to my mom. She went out that last Friday and didn't return the Monday after. My father said my mother was not coming back she got in real trouble with the police and she was in jail. I was like oh okay because I was so use to her getting in trouble but she would always come back home, sooner or later. My dad said he would pick us up from school for the last 2 weeks of my middle school year. It didn't hit me that this was serious until I got a call from my mother that she was in jail and she told me they were deporting her back to Mexico. I started bawling uncontrollably. I asked her repeatedly if she was coming back and she said yes! It was strange trying to continue living my life when my mother was gone and my dad would pick us up everyday and make sure we woke in time for school every morning. My little brother cried so much for our mother, he was 5 years old at that time. My sister was the closest to our mom, so she handled it the worse.
The day before the last day of school, I was walking home excited because I was going to take a walk with this boy I really like. A couple of nights before this I had a little argument with a close friend and I slap her but before the situation became worse our friends intervened. Well while I was walking home, my sister went to the corner store, I felt a hit on the side of my face. It was that close friend, who started attacking me. I tried to fight back I remember her on top of me pounding my face over and over. After what seemed 5 minutes, I couldn't defend myself no longer. I got up to walk away and she came after me again. I gave up I let her hit me. I screamed and cried for help but all I saw was everyone staring out their apartment doors and our friends standing around us, laughing. I think the worse part was seeing my little brother watching me on the side asking people to get her off of me! That hurt me the most over all the hitting. I remember looking at him as the girl grab my head and pounded me back and fourth to the ground until I passed out. Then when I came to people took her off of me. I went walking I didn't know what to do I had no one to help me at that time. I had to wait for my dad to pick me up and my step dad didn't care so much about us after my mom was gone. I went walking to the front office and they called the ambulance and then my dad came right away. I left my past and there never looked back...
I never thought I would cry right now writing this. I thought it would an easy thing to just write my life. I guess was really into my story. It brought back many memories and pain. I'm not ashamed of my past, that is why I write it proudly. I've learned a lot from looking back at those times of hardship. Some people suffer differently from their past. I suffered mentally and physically. That's why when I write about my children on Instagram or social media I talk very highly of them, because they are my life savers. I started living a normal life when I became pregnant at 16 years old. That might sound crazy but I'll get into that story another time. Until then, thank you all for reading part 1 of this story.
-From a mama, xoxo
I've had blogger for almost a year and I still don't know to work it. Literally spent a hour trying to change my little introduction. Aghh. Anyway I really never introduced my self in case you don't follow me on Instagram. I thought I might do that on another post. Today I felt that it was time to share some stories of myself before I became a mother. I won't sugarcoat so it might be a little raw.
.
.
.
Of course from the beginning, My dad (my heart) and my mother met in San Antonio years ago. My mother is from Mexico and my father is from Tehran, Iran. That is in the middle east right next to Iraq. I know right, crazy. Two people from opposites sides of the world meeting in a large city. Well fast forward they got married and had two beautiful daughters. I didn't understand at the time, I was around 5 years old, when my father left out of the country to visit my dying grandfather why I had a new "uncle" coming around the house. Well a couple of months after my "uncle" continued to show up my father finally caught my mother. My father told me today it was me to told him about my mother's cheater. He ask me "baba does anyone come around the house when I'm gone" and I responded by saying "Uncle Carlos". Yeah I blame myself for breaking my fathers heart and my family up. Even before that happened, my mother had her first child (our older step-brother) visiting us all the time. He lived with his own father so my mother only had visitation rights. My father always made sure my mother was spoiled with love, adventures around the world, and even supporting her first child.
I remember vividly of our last night together as a "normal" family. It was around 1997-1998 I was 5 or 6 years old and I heard screaming and yelling in the kitchen and I woke up panicking at all the commotion. I remember seeing my parents kind of wrestling because my mother had a knife in her hand. I remember hearing my father saying "stop maria the kids are watching". I was crying and my sister was right next to me screaming her head off. I remember holding her and just telling her "its ok". The police ended up at our house and they arrested my father. I remember he had his body faced forward walking to the police car like if he was ashamed of the situation we were all in. At that time, I didn't understand why they took him away...
Years fast forward because everything after was a blur. [Sometimes I wonder how I can remember a time so vividly like it just happened yesterday and then there times I can't remember shit.] My father was granted visitation every other weekend and we never saw our older brother Ray anymore. My mother found a new boyfriend and can you guess who it was? Yes it was Uncle Carlos. My mother then had another baby boy, our half-brother, named Carlos Jr. My sister and I loved him so much, funny times we had. I felt that I was living in a double life between my parents. My father was very protective and strict than my mother who always let us do what we wanted. I thought everything was good but as I got older I started to notice some odd stuff. My mother use to have us walk together to the corner store every weekend. It started off with one or two beers then led to more. She ended up being an alcoholic, always gone for the weekend. My step dad would babysit us or we would go with my dad's. At the time I thought that was normal, because she always came back to use after the weekend. It was when my step-dad went to prison that things started changing for the worse...
My step-dad was our primary supporter so after he went to prison my mom moved from job to job, until she had a major accident at this one job. She was working at a bakery factory and slip on the wet floor, she had a herniated disc. So my mother found other type of ways to support us. Not knowing at that time that my father was never aware of anything she did. She meet different men when she went out and randomly had them over, for a hour or so then they were gone. She always told us they were all her friends, and we never asked more. She would bring her friends daily and I didn't remember much of them just when they would go we always went out to eat or to the thrift store to shop. (Yes that's where my thrifting skills came from, lol) My mother got two DWI and was put on house arrest, probation, even on a breathalyzer. I remember she would try taking of the machine off her foot and still go out at night. In the morning we would catch the bus and I would blow in the breathalyzer for her. I didn't know what that thing was for, I just thought it was fun.
During these years I was in middle school and I had my own life with friends. I was always away from the house as much as I could be. I played outside after school until it was like 9, 10, even 11. I remember my dad would check up on us a lot because he never liked the fact my mother never had a set schedule for us. He would come more than once a week to do homework with us, even came to our school to put money in our lunch account. I remember he would always come pick us up in a limo, at that time it was embarrassing. I went to school and lived on the Eastside (not so nice) and my dad lived on the Northside (rice side). That's also what I meant about living that double life.
So after two years or so, Carlos got out of prison. My mother stayed home as house-wife while my step dad became the provider again. Still my mother was going out every weekend, I just hung out with my friends more. I remember during the times my mom would go out she would be late coming home, sometimes a day or two late. I got use to it. Until when it was almost my 12th birthday, I went to school just like any normal day. Then I received a call to go to the office. My father was on the phone line and he said something happened to my mom. She went out that last Friday and didn't return the Monday after. My father said my mother was not coming back she got in real trouble with the police and she was in jail. I was like oh okay because I was so use to her getting in trouble but she would always come back home, sooner or later. My dad said he would pick us up from school for the last 2 weeks of my middle school year. It didn't hit me that this was serious until I got a call from my mother that she was in jail and she told me they were deporting her back to Mexico. I started bawling uncontrollably. I asked her repeatedly if she was coming back and she said yes! It was strange trying to continue living my life when my mother was gone and my dad would pick us up everyday and make sure we woke in time for school every morning. My little brother cried so much for our mother, he was 5 years old at that time. My sister was the closest to our mom, so she handled it the worse.
The day before the last day of school, I was walking home excited because I was going to take a walk with this boy I really like. A couple of nights before this I had a little argument with a close friend and I slap her but before the situation became worse our friends intervened. Well while I was walking home, my sister went to the corner store, I felt a hit on the side of my face. It was that close friend, who started attacking me. I tried to fight back I remember her on top of me pounding my face over and over. After what seemed 5 minutes, I couldn't defend myself no longer. I got up to walk away and she came after me again. I gave up I let her hit me. I screamed and cried for help but all I saw was everyone staring out their apartment doors and our friends standing around us, laughing. I think the worse part was seeing my little brother watching me on the side asking people to get her off of me! That hurt me the most over all the hitting. I remember looking at him as the girl grab my head and pounded me back and fourth to the ground until I passed out. Then when I came to people took her off of me. I went walking I didn't know what to do I had no one to help me at that time. I had to wait for my dad to pick me up and my step dad didn't care so much about us after my mom was gone. I went walking to the front office and they called the ambulance and then my dad came right away. I left my past and there never looked back...
I never thought I would cry right now writing this. I thought it would an easy thing to just write my life. I guess was really into my story. It brought back many memories and pain. I'm not ashamed of my past, that is why I write it proudly. I've learned a lot from looking back at those times of hardship. Some people suffer differently from their past. I suffered mentally and physically. That's why when I write about my children on Instagram or social media I talk very highly of them, because they are my life savers. I started living a normal life when I became pregnant at 16 years old. That might sound crazy but I'll get into that story another time. Until then, thank you all for reading part 1 of this story.
-From a mama, xoxo
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ReplyDeleteI commend you for this. It takes a lot of courage to be so transparent especially to this extent, we all go through things that more than often we shy away from and it's easy to act like it didn't or isn't happening. We'll never know what other people are going through & after reading this it made me feel like I was free to tell my story too. A lot of times I've put a blanket over all the problems my family has gone through and is going through, but until recently I realized that these are all learning experiences and one day I'll have my own family & I want to be able to give my children a better life, beautiful experiences and honesty in all areas. Suppressing our emotions can hurt us in so many ways. Thank you for sharing this. 🕊
ReplyDeleteI wish you and your family so much love & joy. You've came a long way and I can tell how much happiness they have brought to you as well as you have brought to them. ♥️