It's been awhile since I posted, but I haven't had much to say. What I have been saying has been said on Facebook. It cost me some friends, but oh well!!! I had to say what I had to say, and no one is going to stop me from saying it. So, let me tell you a little bit about my family...
I was born in Oakland, CA in 1968 to David and Magdalena Freeman. But, unfortunately for me, both of my parents were (and still are...) selfish, a part of the so called "me" generation. Living for the moment, not caring about tomorrow, free love, etc. According to my mother, my dad was bisexual, and according to my father, my mother was (still is...) a bitch. They married in 1968, and divorced in 1972. My dad didn't remarry until 1984, and my mom remarried in 1972 after her divorce was finalised.
She married some loser from Southern CA named Neil S. Moore. He was in the Army at the time, stationed out at Ft. Hood. He ended up stealing a car in Texas, was arrested, and sent to prison for 3 years; TDC didn't notify the Army, and upon release from TDC, he was taken into custody, court-martialed, confined for 6 months more, and discharged with a Bad Conduct Discharge from the Army. Oh well! He came home to my mom, and she took him back. Anyway, while he was readjusting to civilian life, he made me lunch one day. I wouldn't eat it (it tasted nasty!!! Sorry, I won't eat shit!!!), and I got my ass beaten for it. I had been beaten so bad, I had to go to the hospital for treatment (he left bad bruises...). My mom tossed him out on his ass (as far as I knew...), and I went to stay with my grandmother.
Whilst with my grandmother, I would be further tormented by my aunt (whom I love deeply, and I'm very angry with her at the moment for siding with my mother!!!), and my uncles. My aunt Z has 2 kids, but at the time, Adrian was little, and wasn't up and around. I was 5 years old, and an ADHD child. Back then, I don't think they had a name for it; but I was tortured for being born with it. I was talkative, hyperactive, impulsive, and inattentive. I didn't listen too well to anyone, and as a result, I would receive endless ass beatings. At the time, I had annoyed the hell out of my aunt and uncle so much, they had bound my hands together with masking tape, and taped my mouth shut. I was then put into the broom closet, and let out periodically if I was quiet. That didn't last long. This would go on for several weeks whilst I was in kindergarten. And my mother wonders why I hate her.
Fast forward to 1977... I had to go stay with my Aunt Z and her husband at Mather AFB in Rancho Cordova, CA for the summer. My cousin Adrian, by now, had turned into a malicious child. He would get into all kinds of mischief, and I would get the blame. And of course, I would receive the always present, but never wanted, ass beating. But, with my uncle Ron, I would receive more than my fair share; in fact, I would get my ass beaten everyday by my uncle just because. And, he'd do it with a whiffle ball bat! Finally, after being beaten repeatedly, I had decided that I had had enough. My uncle was an avid model builder, and would hang the completed project from the ceiling, or place it on a bookshelf. I had decided that I would be destructive, and I would take out all my anger on his models. I seem to recall that there were at least 20 finished projects around the house. I took his whiffle ball bat, and proceeded to smash all of the models, both hanging and on the bookshelf! Did I care about the consequences? No! I had figured that since I got my ass beaten everyday anyway, what difference did it make? My aunt, apparently, hasn't forgiven me.
Back to my mother... It turns out, that my mother is somewhat of a promiscuous woman. She went through men back then faster than I could change my shorts. It was not uncommon for her to have at least 2 boyfriends a year when I was younger. But, there were several she had that I did like. Like Wayne, and Bob, and Steve, and Jimmy, and Randy, and finally, Don. Ah Don! Why did you have to go and die?!?! Oh, she had her share of losers as well; the biggest one I remember was this dickhead named Al. He managed an apartment complex on Church Ave. in Sacramento. I only lived there with my mother for the summer; and I hated it! Al, made no attempt to hide the fact that he didn't like me. I can have that affect on people; you either like me, or you don't like me... There's no middle ground there. Anyway, I spent the summer of 1978 locked away in my room. It was a nice room, but a cage is still a cage, no matter how guilded the bars are. Al would send me outside for hours, and I'd take advantage of that. I wouldn't come home until dark. My mother asked me recently if I had something to do with Al getting robbed; Mom, I was only 10 years old!!! How the fuck am I going to have something to do with that?!?! Whatever...
Then, there were my many cousins. First off, there's Adrian and Dusty...my Aunt Z's kids. As I said earlier, Adrian was malicious! If I wasn't there, he'd get the brunt of the ass beatings. And, when his brother got older, they both got them; at least until Aunt Z moved away from Ron... Next, there's Pancho and Pete. Pancho was always the troublemaker. Pete on the other hand, was the one that had a hard time in school, but did the best he could. I got along fairly well with Pancho, until he'd get us into trouble. Then, the ass beatings would happen. As well as the beatings, I would end up fighting Pancho's battles. After a couple of years of that, I got tired of that, and communicated with his adversaries that I want no part of his actions. They agreed, and ambushed Pancho. He got his just dessert, and he ran home to tattle on me. Of course, I got my ass beaten for not helping Pancho. Even after explaining why I did what I did, the excuse was that he was family, and we don't abandon family. Fast forward to 1985-1986...Pete moves in with my mom and I. I was an only child, and wasn't used to this. I gave him hell, and that wasn't fair of me. Luckily, he graduated, joined the Army, and hasn't looked back. He's doing well now, living in San Diego. Pancho, hates his brother.
Since we're still in 1985, I think I've told the story of what happened between Toni and I. We had each other for such a short time; but, we loved one another passionately in the time we had. We never had sex back then, but we were close! Again, I hate my mother for breaking us up...bitch!!! If we had been allowed to stay together and grow, I think things would have been different. My life wouldn't have been so difficult.
Now, fast forward to 1989. I've returned from the Far East, and I'm sowing my wild oats; fucking women every chance I get! I was still hurting over losing Toni (yes, it happened in '85, but pain like that lasts a long time; it also inspires poets to write love poems!!!), and my mother then introduced me to Elena. My mother said that this should make up for her breaking Toni and I up, and to stop whining about it. At first, Elena was attractive. But, as time went on, I saw the inner her. And, from what I saw, I really didn't like what I saw. She was incredibly selfish, self-centered, narcissistic, and petty. I wasn't allowed to have female friends whilst I was around Elena. She was so insecure, that she would assume that I was having sex with my female friends (well, I did have a few friends with benefits, but that wasn't until later...). In July of 1991, right before Ian was born, Elena and I were at Birdcage Theatre. We were waiting to go into the theatre, when I saw Toni again, for the first time since High School. She called my name 3 times, and finally shouted "Hey, dumbass!!!" I immediately turned, and saw her. She was pushing a stroller towards me, as Elena returned to me. Elena looked over, and saw Toni...Toni stopped, stared at me with sad eyes, and just stood there. I looked at her, and wondered what she was doing. Elena meanwhile, wraps her arm around my waist, and makes sure that Toni sees this. Elena then asks me who that bitch was; I told her, promptly...she isn't a bitch, that's Toni! Elena replied, oh, really? She's cute; I guess you do have good taste in women after all... After that, whenever Elena and I would argue (which was constant...), Elena would bring up the fact that I was still pining away for Toni, or that I was a loser for still thinking about Toni, or how I should just grow up and forget about her. And the one that would piss me off the most...so, how's the search for Toni going? Little did she know, I knew where Toni lived...but, I operated under the assumption that Toni hated me for dumping her. Little did I know, that she was still in love with me! Oh, if only I could go back into time, and change our past!!!
Then, there are my kids... Ian, Julian, and Brianna. Ian, was born in 1991 in Sacramento. He's a good kid, but he's made some dumb choices. His mother has only exacerbated this by pandering to him. At one point, he was enrolled in Options for Youth; an independent study program that met weekly. He didn't want to do the work; Elena did it for him! So, it was discovered that all the course work that Ian had submitted was reviewed, and discarded! He was subsequently dismissed from this program because he had committed academic fraud! He still hasn't graduated from HS. Julian well, he's doing well (at least that's what they tell me...). He got into Del Campo HS (Ian had tried to get in, but due to poor attendance, they refused to admit him...) without too much trouble. It didn't hurt that he had went to Will Rogers Middle School, a feeder school of DC. Since he's the middle child, he doesn't get enough attention from Elena. Elena pays attention mostly to Ian or Brianna, leaving Julian to fend for himself. When I was there, I would hang out with Julian. I tried to anyway. Finally, there's my daughter, Brianna. I love her, but she's an ADHD child, just like her father...I have tried to tell Elena that Brianna needs to get the evaluation done, but Elena balks at the idea. Elena also balks at the idea that she has undiagnosed mental health issues. Brianna is a smart kid, but she has a hard time getting along with other kids. This is a source of contention for her; I hated seeing her always upset because she didn't really have friends. I'm not there anymore, so I really don't have any influence on the situation.
Well, there you have it...mi familia loca!!! Now you understand why I am the way I am...at least on some level...