Chapter 4 1960’s L.B. & D.B.

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D.B. met L.B. at a store near Kennedy High-school called Carol’s Market. He was there and so was she and bummed a cigarette from her. D.B. quit school early because my uncle John was drafted and had to go to the Army from what I was told he did not get deployed he remained in Texas and was a Medic. My grandmother did not like L.B. at all but D.B. was deeply in love with her. She came from a poor family and she was severely abused and neglected. D.B. told me stories about the abuse that she received from her sister, brothers, parents, and he became upset about that abuse which is what caused him to get into a gang as he wanted to protect her.

D.B. alleged that he thought that if she was with him, he could keep her from being an alcoholic, he thought he could change her and undue the abuse by keeping her safe and by showing her how much she meant to him. The damage was already done, and she was not able to be saved as the only way that anyone can be saved from being an alcoholic is if they choose not to become one themselves. It is not up to others to decide they must see the errors of that life style and then change themselves out of desire to not be that way.

D.B. once said the worst mistake he had ever made in his life was falling in love with and marrying my mother and the second worst mistake he made was having a kid with her and then taking me away from her. He stated he hated her and hated me because I looked just like her especially when I was little. My mother had green eyes just like mine until she got lens’s put on her eyes or they faded with age. Her original eye color was green like mine. 



In this post I am going to explain when the abuse of me started. Sadly, in order for anyone to obtain a clear and concise picture of everything I have been through and the reasons I make the choices I make they must understand the entire story which means I have to talk about some things I really did not want to discuss especially publicly.  While doing this I also have to allow myself to go back as far as possible in my mind to when I was living with L.B.

L.B.  came from a family of alcoholics, her mother father and just about every other family member had alcohol and substance abuse problems. D.B.  knew this and said he had tried to take her out of the situation and give her a new life or so he claimed. However, knowing L.B.  came from an abusive house and how abusive D.B.  really is its really hard for me to believe that he wasn’t abusive of her in the same ways he has been abusive to me.

As it was told to me L.B.  didn’t start to drink until after I was born. D.B.   would come home and find her passed out on the bed in her coat with me sitting in my crib alone and crying. He claimed he tried to get her to stop drinking and to “change” but that she refused. In my opinion he did everything in his power to destroy her including taking me from her custody.

However, after D.B.  left when I was two L.B. became extremely abusive of me. She had no patience for a child and she was always drunk. I have memories of sleeping on bar stools in bars in Summit Il. This didn’t happen one time it happened many times. She spent all her money on liquor and I remember being thin and going to school and asking for food because I was so hungry. I also remember eating mayo sandwiches.

Left with men and had a male babysitter & molested

L.B.  often left me with strange men and I even had a male baby sitter that had molested me when I was in her care. D.B.  knew about the molestation even though I had not told him. The man had read me Pandora’s Box the story depicts a young girl named Pandora who is given a box and told not to open it or all sorts of bugs and evil will escape into the world. Pandora being a child can not help herself and opens the box and lets all of the evil out of the box. The moral of the story is to keep a secret.  D.B.  had contacted me a few years back and informed me that he had in fact paid the man to molest me so that he could use it in court to obtain custody of me. I remember him asking me several times when I was young if I had ever been molested and I had told him know.

Left home alone 

Besides just the physical abuse of me as well as the neglect of me L.B.  left me home alone in the apartment at age 4 or 5. She would send me to the store with a note to buy her cigarettes at that age as well.

The Original Garbage Pail Kid

L.B.  often “played” a game with me in which she would throw me in the garbage can. She also swore at me all the time, called me “bad” and “bad girl” she also beat me with a brush for calling her “mother” and would often fight with D.B.   and tell me and him that we were never going to see each other again. I have seen L.B.  tend bar and put a man on the ground with her foot on his throat which scared me and I have even come out of school to find her in her car with bandages on her head and arm and her asleep on the steering wheel (I thought she was dead).

Made to stay in my room or locked in a closet

I would be beaten for whatever the reason and put in my bedroom and in order to come out of my room I would have to say “I love you mommy I’m sorry can I come out?” If I came out without saying it, I took the chance of getting hit again. I was also locked in a laundry closet which is probably why I am claustrophobic and don’t like interior doors closed for long or locked very often.

Beaten for failing grades

I was dyslexic and abused and neglected and I remember being beaten by both of my parents for bringing home a failing report card. This remained common practice for D.B.  as I grew up as well. I even remember being brought into the back bedroom at my grandmother’s house to receive a spanking from D.B.  at my grandmother’s instruction for bringing home a bad report card.

Beating a child due to academic’s does not correct the problem it only creates a child who is afraid of his or her parents and it is abuse especially when the child has already been abused and especially when the child has lost a parent and is an emotional wreck and is dyslexic.


The reality is this, I had remembered so much of what happened to me when I was with L.B.  that I used to have night-terrors and what she did interrupted my studies caused me a life time of depression and made me feel worthless and not wanted. I can’t remember a lot of what had happened to me back then at least not the exact incidents but what I can remember is pretty terrible and no child should ever have to go through.

CPS/DCFS Strip Search at age 5 or 6

One memory I have in particular is CPS taking me out of school in the middle of the day without any parental figure present. I was taken to their office where they had me take off all my clothing and searched my body for bruises. I was only in kindergarten or first grade at the time and the incident made me deathly afraid of CPS. A fear that had stuck with me all the way up until CPS took my girls from me.  The difference is I am not a alcoholic nor am I abusive and the reason that I am not is simple I suffered my entire life without a mother that I cried for and wanted to have in my life so badly that I would put up with her verbal abuse of me just so I could have her around. I know what if feels like to lose a parent to alcoholism and abuse and I would not and could not do that to my daughters. I do not nor have I ever called anyone of them bad. Their behavior may be inappropriate but there is no such thing as a “bad” child just bad choice. I even used to say inappropriate behavior to them when they were very young and I was asked by D.B.  if I thought that the baby knew what I was saying and I replied to him “she stopped didn’t she”. It is one thing to attack the behavior a completely different thing to attack the child.


After D.B.  took custody of me L.B.  hardly ever came to see me at all. Years would go by and I would wonder if she was even still alive. Many times, and I mean MANY times she would call and say she wanted to see me and I would say I wanted to see her and she would never show up. I would sit in the front window at my grandmother’s house where we lived and I would wait for her all day. Nothing could pull me out of that window. Eventually, I gave up and she called and asked to see me and I refused to see her. What this did to me still affects me today in that whenever anyone says they are going to do anything I do not believe them. When my x-husbands and my friends found out what she had done they in turn did the same exact thing to me further causing additional emotional turmoil. Abuse begets abuse.

The physical abuse that I endured while I was in her care no child should ever have to go through and it is why I have found myself in a conundrum in that I don’t believe that the CPS laws are in alignment with the constitution and I believe that to much power has been given to CPS and DCFS but at the same time I understand why these agencies exist. I understand both sides because I was once the abused child and now, I am the wrongfully accused parent.

The abuse continues today as verbal insults and hateful comments

L.B.  was extremely physically and emotionally abusive of me as a child and she may of stopped hitting me physically but has never stopped abusing me emotionally. While I have attempted many times to build a semi-functioning relationship with her and have even somehow found a way to forgive her for abandoning me and for the abuse, she and I still have a rocky relationship to say the least. This is mostly because I refuse to allow her to continue to abuse me the way she always has.

L.B.  is NEVER going to stop drinking Cirrhosis of the liver or not. 

The reality is, L.B.  is and always will be an alcoholic. No matter what I still love her, D.B.  has never and will never understand that but she is L.B.  and I love her. The problem is I can’t stand her or anyone else around me drinking the other problem is I may look like her but I am not L.B. ‘s daughter, I am not D.B. ‘s daughter either I am a accumulation of peoples hard work and energy and I have been lucky in so many ways in that I have had many “surrogate mom’s” or “mother figures” in my life that haven’t exactly taken L.B. ‘s place because that’s not possible but they did fill in the gaps for all those years and as a result I think I am a better woman because of the love shown to me by those surrogate mom’s.

How did I not become an alcoholic or drug addict you may be wondering especially with all the abuse I have endured?

Most people in my situation would of but I haven’t become one yet at the age of 42 & it’s never going to happen. 


The answer to that is not a simple one but it’s not that difficult to grasp either. For one thing I lost L.B.  to alcoholism that made me hate alcohol as nothing could replace her for me. Additionally, I detest bars I spent more time in bars before I could write my name that I despise everything about them from the smell to sitting at the bar etc. It brings to many awkward feelings for me I become uncomfortable. Since I have been a mom since I was 19 I didn’t ever go out and gratefully it shows in that I don’t suffer from bad skin and premature wrinkles as a result of to much partying because I never partied.

After D.B.   took custody of me when I was 5 he rarely drank in front of me but he did drink from time to time. If I saw him drinking, I would become upset especially if it was multiple days in a row which he did do. D.B.   was a bouncer at a bar for a while when I was 8 or 10 years old and he was a single man so he would go out sometimes and drink but he knew it upset me so he didn’t do it often and he tried to come home after he knew I would be asleep. My grandma was what D.B.  called a “puritan” who never drank so I grew up in a “dry house”. When I was in high-school and around age 14 I was sent to addiction’s classes to learn about alcohol and drug abuse the same way a person would go to AA or Al-anon except this was ALA-TEEN and it was set up to help kids understand co-dependency and alcoholism.

I believe that alcoholism is a CHOICE and not a predetermined destiny JUST LIKE SHE AND THE OTHERS CHOOSE TO ABUSE ME

Once you accept that life is full of choices and not chances you begin to realize that this apply’s to all things including being an alcoholic. Instead of teaching people that alcoholism is a disease like cancer or lupus they should be teaching people that it is a life choice and making them own that choice so that they can then learn to alter their behavior and make better life choices. If you teach people that alcoholism is a disease you are doing nothing more than giving them an excuse for their poor choices and decisions. L.B.  chose to drink the same way I choose not to drink it is as simple as that. She doesn’t suffer from some uncontrollable disease she suffers from selfishness and had mixed up priorities plain and simple.

Do I forgive her? Absolutely Why? Let’s just say that over the past 5 or so years I have learned how much of a tyrant D.B.  really is and I realize that much of what I have been put through is more than likely what she was put through except she didn’t have the same mindset that I have nor did she have the tool-set that I have in that I suffered a great loss due to alcohol and I detest it as a result. I don’t break L.B.  didn’t have the emotional strength to fight him and his abuse of her the way I do instead she had to leave and relocate and re-establish herself in Las Vegas where alcohol was given freely when you gamble.

Alcoholism is not a road I ever want to go down; I realize that with my gene-pool and inherited tolerance level to alcohol drinking is dangerous. I don’t think it’s right that I have to pay for other people’s mistakes, but I do understand that my tolerance to alcohol is inherited and it can be dangerous and it’s just not something I want to test my limits with. It’s OK once in a while like on holidays and on special occasions but it’s not something I ever really did. I was always fine with watching over my friends and being the key-keeper and parties so everyone would be safe.  I had just as much fun watching them make fools of themselves as they had yet without the alcohol.  I was responsible and still am.

The moral of the story is this. I don’t abuse because I have been abused. I don’t drink or do drugs because I lost L.B.  to alcoholism and I know what would be at stake if I made the same choices she made.

Abuse begets abuse, the only way to break that cycle is to be the one to break it there is no other way. That job is mine.


Chapter 5