Thursday, May 19, 2011

The years I dubbed the 9 years of hell

Life went on seemingly normal for me after Dad died.  I had to get up and go to school Monday through Friday, church on Wednesday, Sunday, and Sunday evening.  That was mandatory unless you had the flu and well as fate would have it I never was sick enough to have the flu.
Mom became more controlling the older I got.  I didn't see it then but as I write this blog I notice it now.  I couldn't have sleep overs not because the house was dirty, but because I refused to subject anyone to my mother that wasn't family.  I looked to refuge with my Aunt Shirley and Uncle Terry because for once I was able to be the small semblance of the girl I was when Dad was around.  Mom seemed to put on a new hat when we'd visit them or her father for that matter.  I would go to Grandaddy's and leave at 9 and not come home till 7 or 8.  I loved it.  She didn't drink too much when we were there so it was hard for me to have them see what it was like every day at home.
Mom seemed to shut down when Dad died.  Maybe because she didn't know what to do.  She had a responsibility that she thought that she was going to be able to ease into only to be shoved and that made her angry.  She may have become angry with Dad or God or various other things and people because now she had to do it alone.  She once told me that she loved Dad, but if she did, why did they argue like they did?  I guess answers I never will get now.
I turned 18 and graduated in June.  I was mandated by my mother to attend some horrible college in this hick town in Georgia.  No offense but I had my own plans where I wanted to go and what I wanted and Georgia was not in my plans.  Tallahassee Community College then from there FSU.  Little did I know...  Here again the small girl from FLA that had no clue I could do things on my own at this point, but I learned and learned quick.  I went to Cuthbert Ga for a month purposely flunked out or got kicked out and came home.  Then the mischief began.  I learned that she couldn't tell me what to do any more.  After a year at the oceanfront I decided it was Cyndee's turn! (here again was a stab in the wound of ol' Fay because I went by Cyndee).  She hated me for that and to this day her and I think my 2 cousins call me Cynthia.  Life began as Me on January 29, 1992 or so I thought.

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