Chapter 56 Dyslexic Not Disabled

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All meetings at school were held behind closed doors and I was not allowed to know what was being said about me or my progress, this made me fearful of the meetings because often I would hear about it afterward and be told I was “not trying hard enough” and that I needed to “buckle down” “get down to brass tacks” start hitting the books and when I got to high school was often asked if I thought the information was going to get into my head through osmosis. I was accused of not trying hard enough and not doing good enough constantly.

I had been beaten and spanked and hit with the belt by both parents for bring home bad grades starting in Kindergarten and once was hit by my mother for a bad report card and then again beaten by my father for the same report card. If I gave C.B.B.G.G. a hard time or complained D.B. would step in and threaten me. He had no problem with cracking me upside the back of the head when he got angry. He yelled at me and would tell me to buckle down, get down to brass tacks, hit the books, and ask me if I thought the information in the book was going to get in my head by sleeping on them in class and though osmosis. 

I spent everyday after school from 3:30p.m until 10:30p.m Monday through Friday without fail working on homework at the kitchen table with C.B.B.G.G. she was relentless and a drill Sargent and did not seem to enjoy the time she spent with me. She was frustrated with me and very stern and often complained of headaches and not feeling well and being in pain.  I had to write my spelling words ten times each every day, write out my answers out of the book in complete sentences even if the teacher did not want them that way. Bring every book in the desk home each day even if I did not have homework in that book. I had to write my multiplication tables ten times each and everything was about repetition. It was hard and grueling and as a result my childhood was stolen. It was this way from second grade up until eighth. I had to read the entire chapter of books out loud and hid my fingers under the table to tap the sounds. I had to learn how words worked, and how to break them up into syllables so I could pronounce them correctly and read them fluently. I had a slight problem with my speech and had to work on that as well.

I was severely dyslexic not disabled. D.B. is also dyslexic and was not very good at school and did not like learning. I enjoyed learning and still do, I just did not like having to work so hard at it and bring home such awful grades. No matter how hard I tried I always brought home C’s unless it was Art which I did not know I was good at until high-school but wanted to be my career. I love to paint, and thought I was good at it and have been told so many times but painting is not good enough for my family, “You’ll never make any money at that”, it doesn’t serve our purposes. I chose graphic design as a compromise and then went into web, and studied business and marketing because I found out I really loved it and saw the potential. Having a business of your own is nothing more than a smoke filled pipe dream, waste of time, and nothing will ever come of that, and “Don’t get your hopes up”.



Dyslexia is not a disorder, or a disability or even an dis-advantage it is a difference in how my brain processes information and how that information has to be taught. Being dyslexic is not easy as it does make you feel like you live in a backwards world, especially in the situation that I am in with attempting to obtain justice and people lying about me and saying the things they did are things I did when its the opposite. 


I have four dyslexic daughters all who are very smart and educated and I am the one responsible for their education, I was their tutor the same way C.B.B.G.G. was mine. Except, I am not nearly as strict and do not put them though what I was put through. All my girls need extra help in their studies because of what they have gone though and being Dyslexic and need to be patient as learning does not stop at a certain age. I still have to practice certain spelling words that have haunted me since childhood. Normal, is just a setting on the dryer, we are all different some people might be good at Math or Science others Reading and Art. We all have our issues, how C.B.B.G.G. went about handling those issues that I had was not the right way and I think it is because the needed me for their political agenda’s which is what D.B. had alleged to me. 

                                     TEASED AND TORMENTED FOR BEING DIFFERENT

I was teased not only for being dyslexic but I was sent to school wearing clothing that did not fit correctly, and everything came from Sear’s distributor or the Salvation Army. I did not get to try the clothing on and most of the time it did not fit me right. C.B.B.G.G. made me wear the same pair of jeans repeatedly and did not like washing clothing. If I complained I was put down and yelled at and told that I was acting like a snob, and that I should not care what the other kids were wearing, it was said that I was just trying to keep up with the Jones’s.


My hair was cut off, and I looked like a boy. My teeth were very crooked, and my haircut was uneven. I begged for braces because I needed them and C.P.S.B.S.B. purchased six different dogs instead. The cost of the dogs totaled the price of the braces which I did not get until much later and then were left on for to long for six years due to D.B.’s refusal to pay for them. I was made fun of and teased constantly because of how I looked and how I dressed, my teeth, and my educational differences.

D.B. alleged that they made me look this way on purpose so that people would think that I was mentally handicapped, and they told people that I was as well. D.B. used to call me names like stupid, dummy, dumb ass, retard, dumb f**K, stupid, idiot, moron, etc. the list goes on and on. I was constantly tortured by the kids and teased all of the time. D.B. alleged it was done with the idea of keeping me down and possibly causing a ripple effect to suicide later on. C.B.B.G.G. acted like the “poor-put u-pon” grandmother that had to take care of her handicapped grandchild and used to talk about to me as if I was not standing right there. Doris Grabowski was dressed in poor fitting ugly clothing, and  the most horrible things were said about her the same way D.B. alleged that things were said about me. This is a pattern of behavior that lends credence to the point that I was targeted for life insurance and then political activism if I survived.  In 2012 I survived, and went to the police and told my doctors and put it up online, after that point it made it much more difficult to kill me and get away with it or get paid for my death. My family has stolen my life for their “stupid so called causes” and I am beyond hurt and infuriated. 

I am a Dyslexic it takes me longer to do everything that does not mean I am disabled and will not tolerate being treated like I am anything other than a woman who had dyslexia as a child as it obviously has been more than corrected.