Interesting Life? All the way to Spankings? HUH?

Have you had an interesting life?

This was a quiz idea that was in the seminar I was at yesterday.

Immediately I thought of Butch, Carr, Orley, Michael... yes, yes, yes, and yes.
I mean talking to anyone of these people you kind of feel like you're not really living your life like you could. More like you've missed some opportunities or something.

So I thought about reviewing my life.... to search for something that would seem interesting to someone else.. would someone really read a book about my liife?

Ok.. what would be interesting?... What's happened???

Chapter one?

My childhood?

Normal in the everybody's life is fucked up somehow sense....
My dad was an alcoholic (weird how I can never just write that word.. I have to really think about how to spell it and still never get it right) So he had the temper that went with the angry drunks and you never knew if you were in for it or not.

Now I'm wondering how much of this I should write. I don't want to come off as "oh poor me.. what a horrible childhood I had" cuz I didn't. It wasn't roses, but there are people in a billion times worse situations than I could even imagine. But childhood helps shape who you become, so maybe it's relevant.

The worst thing done (and done often) was "spankings" with dad's leather belt. We never really had to do anything wrong... he would find something or believe we did something and that was it. And he would always preface it with "This is going to hurt me more than it is you."
By the time I was 6 or so I would think "Fuck You" and make a deal with myself that no matter what I would not cry.. I would not let him see me cry. I would pretend it didn't hurt, and I didn't cry until I was alone in my room, and I learned to cry softlly into my pillow.

I was more angry than hurt most of the time.

I grew up on a farm. We had horses, pigs (UCK!) and cattle which meant we had chores to do.

I remember being about 7 or so and I was doing my chores one night, and it had rained. As I was walking my new boot got sucked off into the mud.
I was terrified. I knew if I went into the house without my new boot I would get "the belt" so I started digging through the mud. As I was frantically searching, the sun slowly set for the day.

And there I was... digging for my black boot in the dark, in a good 5 inches of mud.

And then... my other boot got sucked off.

I just sat down and cried.
I don't know how long I stayed out there afraid to go in, but I do remember being cold, getting scared cuz it was dark, and finally giving in.

As I walked through the basement door crying, my dad was there waiting... he was angry cuz I was coming in late.
When he saw me covered in mud, he lost it.

You see about a week prior one of the spankings I had gotten was because I was covered in mud.

It was a very hot summer day and I had decided to go "swimming" in the horses water tank. On the walk back to the house I got muddy. When I got in the house dad asked why I was muddy, and I reluctantly told him I had done.

Now, I wasn't sure why that was so bad, and I'm even guessing now that the reason had something to do with the water was dirty? Or more than likely I made the horses water too dirty for them to drink.

"You were playing in the horse tank again weren't you?"

Through sobs I managed "No."

"Don't you lie to me"

"I'm not. I lost my boots"

"Because you were playing in the horse tank again"

Sobbing even harder, the choking feeling in my throat, I said again quietly

"no."

"Get upstairs, get ready"

So I would get "ready". He always gave us our "spankings" before bathtime.
We would be in our undies, and the smack of the belt would sting so much I swear I would pretend I was someone else.. anyone else... anywhere in the world.

The very last time he used the belt I was 16 yrs. old.

He had company over, and without going into the whole long story, he said I talked back to him after he asked me a question, and I had bruises from my ass to above my knees.

I wrote a note to a girlfriend of mine in school the next day, and she gave it to the school counselor.

I got called into his office, and he wanted me to tell him more.
I wouldn't.
He said he wanted to talk to my dad.

I thought that was going to be the end. I was terrified.

I ended up living with my grandparents for a couple of weeks, and for the rest of my high school days he pretty much refused to acknowledge my existence. Which was fine by me.

I moved out of the house one week after I graduated high school.

He stopped drinking.

I moved to St. Cloud with my boyfriend of 3 years.

I didn't know it yet, but I just jumped out of the frying pan and into oven.