When I was ten years old my father ran over the neighbors mailbox, splitting the car in half after taking too many sedatives. My parents just separated and I did not understand why my brother and I were left with my father who clearly had a multitude of problems. Basically, we were left alone.
I found my father flat on his face with blood dripping from his legs. I discounted what I was seeing and seriously believed he was just tired and had spilled ketchup on his legs. We needed to get to school and Jason comes roaring into the living room yelling “the car is totaled. The car is totaled.”
I yelled back that dad was tired and he spilled ketchup on himself. But Jason was keen enough to know that our greatest concern was to find a ride to school. The Morris’s lived up the street and while I was not friends with them I asked their mom if she could drive us. I did not tell why. I did not know how.
When we arrived home my dad had already gone to treatment and we were stuck living with our nineteen year old nanny who my father knew through drinking with her mom at the local El Torito. Jackie, our nanny, did not like us.Her judgments were clear as she relished on talking about how my dad had to go to jail instead of returning home after rehab. She put us down constantly and she humiliated me in front of my friends saying “your dad forgot to pay the power bills because he is locked up.”
I did not know that my life had completely changed forever. I did not know I would be own from that point into adulthood. Had I known I may have been reluctant to keep trying. However, I was resilient and I would never give up.