It turned out I would be evaluated for about 2 months. During which I was very lonely, and I tried to be friendly with other kids.  We all had classes, free time and cafeteria time. Then we had some times to meet with the therapist, group or relaxation. I had a roommate that masturbated loudly in the night. He was a bit older than I, possibly 3 years older?

The therapist or psychiatrist would ask a lot of questions and then tell me I would receive medicine. I didn’t care, maybe it would get me high? It didn’t, but the doc. kept asking me if I felt anything, and I always said no. He kept upping the dosage.

Well, I don’t recall what it was called, but it had something like “pro…” as a prefix and the 2nd drug seemed to have “co…” as a prefix and “…gentine” as a suffix? I had a very severe reaction to the first drug, and the 2nd was supposed to ameliorate the first’s effects. I ended up with muscle paralysis and other side effects.

I lost control of my muscles, and my feet would splay out, I walked on my ankles. I had no leg, body or arm strength. My neck and eyes were weak too. I had a very hard time with bowel movements. The worst effects stayed with me for about 2 weeks and gradually reduced over the next 3 months. During the end of that two weeks paralysis, my mom took me on an outing. She told me my dad had an interest in coming up to get me and asked whether I would live with him. It was presented that I had no choice, it would be what happens. The outing was to someone’s house around Lake Minnetonka. I laid on a lounger the whole time, I don’t recall eating, and probably only drank some water.

Dad Begins:

I think it was about a week and I was picked up by my dad. He laid me out on blankets in the back of his station wagon for the long drive from central Minnesota to central Illinois. He stopped somewhere and I couldn’t get up. I asked to stay in the car because I was drenched in sweat and felt awful. To this day he explains that drive like I was afraid to meet those people, that’s why I asked to stay in the car (No). Is it that he wanted to hide my side effects and appearance from that bad drug? I don’t know? I was being taken to another school, in a small town, where I knew nobody. It’s what people call a fresh start yippy skippy.

I liked his townhouse, and I had my own room. I had to start school though, and I still had some residual from the drug side effects. I had a very hard time with bowel movements. I went to regular classes for a week and asked to speak to the counselor. I broke down and cried. I told them I had been through a tough time, moved from my mom’s in Minnesota to my dad’s there. They chose to let me spend most of my classes in a Special Needs class, and only Biology with the regular population.

The Special Class was stupid. We learned nothing. It was a babysitting operation for excluded kids in that school. I thought of myself as a loser, worthless and nobody, and it seemed fitting to isolate me. I stayed in that class for a few months, eventually asking to get back in the regular population.

During all this, my dad would have dates with a nice lady. She would stop by or we would go to her house on rare occasions. Eventually I met her son, a nice kid about my age. Also during this timeframe my brother moved down. So, now my tormentor brother was with me again. He had always been a source of severe trouble for me, teasing and fighting me for tv time. I wanted to watch comedies, movies or some shows, and he wanted to watch sports, I hated sports because of him; that and I had no physique for it. Having a bit of an aptitude for it didn’t compensate for weakness of muscles.

By 7th grade I hated sports on tv I never wanted to watch again. However, my brother insisted he had the choice by permission of our mom, and would argue until I got furious. He would just walk up and change the channel, not asking, but telling me it was his turn and my shows were stupid. Tv was about all I had left for control, and him usurping me caused me to get very angry. It was always him getting what he wanted for his sports and I’m the disappointment. So, here he was again (side note: as adults, he claims I wrote him to join me? My memory of that fails). Soon, he was also being a good friend with this boy, my dad’s girlfriend’s son. They became better friends than I, I was timid, and so it goes. No more Pizza shop, nor bike rides, or boomerang throwing.

During school, my brother again got into sports at school, and I isolated by finding a job as a dishwasher/pizza cook-helper at a local restaurant. I was good at that job and kept at it for many months. I eventually earned enough to buy a bike and stereo. I wanted some fun. I also had a few hundred in the bank.

My dad found out I had that savings! He asked to borrow it to pay some emergency? I didn’t know any detail, but he seemed desperate, and I felt sorry for him, so I gave him all the money. I even returned my stereo to give him that extra money. It was over $500, maybe closer to $600? I think I recall it was a loan, but I never got a hint of it back, nor any remorse for him taking it.

Late during this time, my dad soon left his long-time girlfriend. This is also the timeframe I had a horrible nightmare, and my rape occurred.

The nightmare was this: One late morning I awoke to the sight of creepy hands, having long freaky fingers, and then the appearance of long, stretchy horrid arms that crept up from the footboard of my bed. They went up a few feet then started to arch and stretch toward me. I was terrified, panicked, it was a vision, in semi-darkness. It seemed I was awake with this happening. To this day it seemed to me that the vivid action of those horrid hands and arms were seen in real time?

I got up screaming, and ran to the hall which adjoined the 3 rooms of the upstairs. I ended up knocking on the door I thought my dad was in? Noise was coming from the room, and later I realized it was my dad having sex with his girlfriend. It was a horrid experience to try to explain, while they were both terse with me for interrupting their sex. I really didn’t know at the time. It was later that I put the event together.

The story will continue…


One thought on “The story of my childhood continues:

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